The secret of Finnish happiness – 04/23/2023 – Balance

On March 20, the Sustainable Development Solutions Network, created by the United Nations, launched its World Happiness Report, an annual ranking of the well-being of countries around the world. First place was Finland, for the sixth consecutive year.

But the Finns themselves say that the ranking points to a more complex reality.

“I wouldn’t say we’re very happy,” says Nina Hansen, 58, a high school English teacher in Kokkola, a mid-sized town on Finland’s west coast. “Actually, I view that word with a bit of suspicion.”

Hansen was one of more than a dozen Finns the New York Times spoke to about what supposedly makes Finland so happy, including a Zimbabwean immigrant, a folk metal violinist, a former Olympic athlete and a retired cattle rancher. milkman. Respondents include people aged 13 to 88 years old and represent a diversity of genders, sexual orientations, ethnic backgrounds and occupations. They live in Kokkola; in the capital, Helsinki; in Turku, a city on the southwest coast, and in three villages in southern, eastern and western Finland.

People praised the country’s strong social safety net and spoke enthusiastically about the psychological benefits of nature and the personal pleasure they get from playing sports or music, but they also spoke of feelings of guilt, anxiety and loneliness. Rather than characterizing Finns as “happy”, they were more likely to describe them as “pessimistic”, “a bit grumpy” and not used to smiling unnecessarily.

It seems that not even the happiest people in the world are that happy. But they enjoy something like contentment.

Arto A. Salonen, a professor at the University of Eastern Finland who researches well-being in Finnish society, says that Finns derive satisfaction from living sustainably and consider financial success to mean being able to identify and satisfy their basic needs. “In other words,” he wrote in an email, “when you know how much is enough, you feel happy.”

Artist couple grateful for social safety net

“‘Happiness’. That word is sometimes used superficially, as if it’s just a smile plastered on your face,” says Teemu Kiiski, CEO of the Finnish Design Shop. “But I think this Nordic happiness is something more fundamental.”

Finland’s high quality of life is deeply linked to the country’s welfare system, says Kiiski, 47, who lives in Turku. “People feel safe not being marginalized by society.”

Public funding for education and the arts, including grants for individual artists, gives people like his wife, Hertta Kiiski, 49, a mixed media artist, the freedom they need to pursue their creative passion.

“This also affects the type of work we do, because we don’t have to take into account the commercial value of art”, points out Hertta. “For that very reason, much of the work by artists in the country is highly experimental.”

The defender of public causes who fights to be heard

As a black person in Finland, where more than 90% of the population is white, Jani Toivola, 45, has spent much of her life feeling isolated. “I often felt and still feel isolated, being a black and gay man in Finland”, points out Toivola. His father, Kenyan, has been absent for much of his life. Toivola, whose mother is white, had a hard time finding black figures he could take as examples and with whom he felt some identification.

In 2011 he became the first black member of the Finnish Parliament, where he helped lead the fight to legalize same-sex marriage.

After serving two terms, Toivola left politics to work as an actor, dancer and writer. Today he lives in Helsinki with his husband and daughter and continues to fight for LGBTQIA+ rights in Finland. “I still think it’s a miracle that I, being gay, was able to see my daughter grow up,” he said.

Teenagers raised to feel content

It is often said that it is easier to be happy in a country like Finland, where the government provides a secure foundation on which people can build a fulfilled life and a promising future. But that expectation can also create pressure for people to live up to the national reputation.

“We are very privileged and we know it,” says Clara Paasimaki, 19, one of Nina Hansen’s students in Kokkola. “That’s why we are afraid to say that we are dissatisfied with anything, because we know that our situation is so much better than other people”, especially those from non-Nordic countries.

The Finnish way of life is summed up in the term “sisu”, a quality that is said to be part of the national character. The word can be roughly translated as “unwavering determination in the face of difficulties”, like the country’s long winters: even in the face of adversity, a Finn must persevere without complaining.

“In the past, in times when it wasn’t easy to survive in winter, people had to face difficult conditions. This is something that has been passed down through generations,” says Matias From, 18, a classmate of Paasimaki. “Our parents were like that. Our grandparents were like that. Tough. They didn’t care about anything. They lived life and nothing else.”

The entrepreneur who misses the joie de vivre of her home country

Since emigrating from Zimbabwe in 1992, Julia Wilson-Hangasmaa, 59, has come to appreciate the freedom Finland gives people to pursue their dreams without having to worry about meeting their basic needs. A retired teacher, she now runs her own recruitment and consulting agency in Vaaksy, a town northeast of Helsinki.

But she has also watched the rise of anti-immigrant sentiment, exacerbated by the 2015 migrant crisis, and is concerned about the sustainability of the country’s high quality of life. “If we adopt the ‘Finland is for Finns’ attitude, who will take care of us when we’re old?” she says, alluding to a right-wing slogan. “Who’s going to drive the truck that delivers the food to the supermarket so you can do your shopping?”

Julia claims that when she returns to her country of origin, she draws attention to the “positive energy” that comes not from the satisfaction of the “sisu”, but from exuberant joy.

“When I arrive in Zimbabwe, I realize that what I miss most about Finland are the smiles,” he says. “From people who don’t have much by Western standards, but who are rich in spirit.”

The farmer and his cellist daughter

Tuomo Puutio, 74, started working at age 15 and for decades supported his family raising dairy cattle. Thanks to the Finnish education system, which includes music education for all children, their daughter Marjukka Puutio, 47, has fulfilled her dream of making a career in music outside their village.

“You have the opportunity to become a cellist even if you are a farmer’s daughter,” she says.

Music is a source of well-being for many Finns, who sing in choirs, learn to play musical instruments or attend concerts regularly, especially during the long, dark winters. But Marjukka Puutio fears these opportunities will not be offered to future generations. The far-right Party of Finns, which in 2019 won the second-most seats in parliament, has vowed that if it manages to form a majority coalition this year it will cut public funding for the arts.

“Music, which means everything to me, creates a mindset with which people can face their inner feelings and fears,” notes Puutio, who now manages an orchestra. “It touches parts of the soul that we wouldn’t otherwise be able to. And if we are deprived of those experiences, it will have a long-term effect on people’s lives.

Former Olympic athlete and therapist

Many of the people interviewed cited the abundance of nature as a crucial factor in Finns’ happiness: almost 75% of the country is covered in forest, and these areas are open to everyone, thanks to a law known as “jokamiehen oikeudet”, or “the right of the common man”, which entitles people to walk freely in any natural area, whether on public or privately owned land.

“I enjoy the peace and movement of nature,” says Helina Marjamaa, 66, a former athlete who represented Finland at the 1980 and 1984 Olympic Games. “I draw strength from her. The birds sing, the snow melts and nature reborn. It’s incredibly beautiful.”

Their daughter Mimmi, 36, is a dance teacher and sex therapist who recently got engaged to her girlfriend. Mimmi says she is encouraged by the openness and deeper understanding of gender and sexuality she sees in the next generation.

“Many teenagers are already showing themselves as they are”, he points out. “We adults need to encourage that.”

The violinist who fears global warming

Finland’s national treasures, a third of which lie above the Arctic Circle, are especially vulnerable to the effects of the climate crisis. Marjukka Puutio, Tuomas Rounakari, 46, a songwriter best known in Finland as a former member of folk metal band Korpiklaani, is concerned about the growing popularity of groups like the Finns Party and the anti-climate policies they advocate.

“I am concerned about this degree of lack of knowledge that we have of our own environment”, he says, citing endangered species and climate change. “It appears that risk is not yet leading to a shift in political thinking.”

The badminton player dad and his kids

The reasons for optimism may be personal. For the Hukari family, that reason is badminton.

A sports court in the rural community of Toholampi has enabled Henna, 16, and Niklas, 13, to compete at European level, exposing them to new places and players from across the continent. Sport has given the two teenagers a fulfilling hobby in a remote area and their parents, Lasse and Marika Hukari, an optimistic vision of their children’s future.

Lasse Hukari, 49, hopes that in time his children will fully understand the opportunities that badminton has opened up for them. “Now they might not understand, but when they get to my age, I know they will,” she says.

The matriarch and her granddaughter

Born 17 years after Finland gained independence from Russia, Eeva Valtonen has seen her country transform from the devastation of World War II, through years of reconstruction, to become a nation seen as an example by the world.

“My mother used to say, ‘Remember that the blessing of life is work. Every job you do, do it well,'” says Valtonen, 88. “I think the Finns have been like that. People worked together and helped each other.”

Her granddaughter Ruut Eerikainen, 29, was surprised to see Finland ranked as the happiest place in the world. “To be honest, Finns don’t seem that happy,” she says. “It’s really dark out there, and we can be pretty grumpy sometimes.”

Maybe it’s not that Finns are so much happier than other people. Perhaps it is that their expectations of contentment are more reasonable, and if they are not met, they, in the spirit of “sisu”, persevere.

“We don’t complain, we just do it”, points out Eerikainen.

Translated by Clara Allain