Over the morning coffee at Klaudio’s, a bunch of us are gabbing about everything under the sun. The just-established Norwegian seed bank comes up. “They are saving the seed for after the whole world goes to hell,” says one. “But who will remain to use the seed afterwards,” laughs another. “C’mon,” I jump in, “there are several such seed banks around the world, and they have nothing to do with the world going to hell!” Everyone around the table is convinced that this was the specific reason the Norwegians put it all the way up the frozen north, and they all mention a recent article in the local newspapers. In the end I give up, for I have not read the article. On my way home a short while later, I wonder about the ease with which the end of the world rolls off people’s lips nowadays. The world seems to be written off already with or without the seed bank. Even worse, there are hardly any signs of regret, either.