After years of learning the Swedish language; shopping at the ScandiKitchen and watching more Scandi-noir than is probably good for me, I finally got to Stockholm.
My obsession with Scandinavia started young (I blame my genes) and my son had an Erasmus term at Lund University. Yet, somehow, despite my family’s love of travel, we only managed to stay there for a mere 48 hours. Now was my chance to really explore a country that I admired.
Getting it right
My love of all things Scandi was not based solely on the landscape and art. It fundamentally rested on the idea that Sweden, Norway and Denmark had finally cracked the code on how to live right. They were more egalitarian than anywhere on Earth – something any woman would appreciate; they valued Nature and worked hard on green solutions; they lived simply and well, accepting that to support a caring society where no-one was left behind would cost them money – a lot of money. Paying 50% in taxes was viewed as a reasonable exchange for an excellent education system, brilliant infrastructure and healthcare.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
And our trip to Stockholm bore this out. Everyone was prosperous, the Metro efficient, the boulevards wide and the roads for cars narrow. The only problem for pedestrians was to avoid being run over by electric scooters and bicycles.
Art for art’s sake
As a bonus, the Swedes also saw the value of art to uplift our spirits. I don’t think that I have ever visited a more uniformly beautiful city. Every building had been built with care and few rose beyond four storeys. The area where we were staying was a mix of well designed modern (in concentric circles) and glorious art nouveau with a hint of classical.
Every building had a sense of style, from the triangulated balconies of the modern builds to the embellishments of the older ones. No window, coal shuttle or door was left plain.
Living space
Unlike most cities, one never had the sense of being crowed. If anything, it was rather quieter than most suburban areas in the UK. I know that Stockholm had lost many residents to the countryside for the upcoming Midsummer celebrations, but we arrived well before that.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Like London, it was filled with parks – but not the awe-inspiring huge variety of Hyde or St James’, but small ones dotted around the residential areas. And at its edges was the water giving access to miles of forest fringed coastline.
It was a city designed for outdoor living, for appreciating one’s free time to picnic with friends or let the children run free. It was like no other city I’ve seen.
Who would not enjoy an evening looking at the fountain at the centre of this very planned development? We looked inside the lower floors to see a communal space with small kitchen for residents to enjoy. Genius.
Except …
Despite all these advantages and unprecedented affluence, the Swedes did not seem overly happy. There is an expression in Swedish, ”En känsla av vemod” or a feeling of melancholy or sadness, which seemed to be manifest in the faces I saw.
For a society that seems as close to a utopia as humanly possible, this was a strange contradiction. When we passed people in the street in our usual smiling, friendly way, we were often met with blank stares or worse, grimaces. My husband and I determined to crack this by smiling and saying hello to everyone. We had very limited success – except with the immigrants who all greeted us in an equally cheery fashion and often looking somewhat surprised that anyone had addressed them.
Image: Austin Wade on Unsplash
Needless to say, these immigrants were doing the jobs that no-one else felt inclined to do: kitchen work, cleaning and manning the Metro. They enjoyed the benefits of a very civilised society, but they were hardly of it. But despite the hardship of their present lives, I’m sure like migrants everywhere, they could see a brighter future for their children.
A puzzle
Perhaps one should not judge a people by their expressions and not smiling may simply be an indicator of taking life seriously or thoughtfulness or a more private approach. Perhaps not smiling is their way of showing that they are happy. Sweden ranks consistently in the top ten of the happiest countries in the world. (See this article for a scholarly approach to happiness: https://worldhappiness.report/ed/2020/the-nordic-exceptionalism-what-explains-why-the-nordic-countries-are-constantly-among-the-happiest-in-the-world/) There are numerous theories as to why Nordic countries are some of the happiest, but the one I most incline to is simply this: the Swedes have enough and are wise enough not to seek more than they need. In the interest of the communal good, they are willing to devote time, energy and income to the benefit of all rather than themselves individually. Life is lived in moderation and, where no-one is left feeling poor or neglected or vulnerable, trust and communal bonds can be fostered and reflected in governance.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
There is so much that we can learn from such an approach. Shifting from an ego-centric to a community-centric view, we can start a quiet revolution towards greater social equality. Finding more balance in our lives will bring happiness to ourselves and others. Making connections is something that almost always brings joy and if we feel the urge, we can smile about it!