Why is Finland the happiest country on earth? The answer is complicated.

Why is Finland the happiest country on earth? The answer is complicated.

The Bright Side is a series about how optimism works in our minds and affects the world around us.

On March 20, the United Nations Sustainable Development Solutions Network released its annual report World Happiness Report, which assesses well-being in countries around the world. For the sixth year in a row Finland was at the top.

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

“I wouldn’t say I think we’re very lucky,” says Nina Hansen, 58, a high school English teacher from Kokkola, a medium-sized town on Finland’s west coast. “I’m actually a little suspicious of that word.”

Ms. Hansen was one of more than a dozen Finns we spoke to – including a Zimbabwean immigrant, a folk metal violinist, a former Olympian and a retired dairy farmer – about what supposedly makes Finland so happy. Our subjects ranged in age from 13 to 88 and represented a variety of genders, sexual orientations, ethnic backgrounds, and occupations. They came from both Kokkola and the capital Helsinki; Turku, a city on the southwest coast; and three villages in the south, east and west of Finland.

While people praised Finland’s strong social safety net and spoke highly of the psychological benefits of nature and the personal pleasures of sport or music, they also spoke of guilt, fear and loneliness. Instead of ‘happy’, they characterized Finns as ‘pretty gloomy’, ‘a bit moody’ or not inclined to smile unnecessarily.

Many also shared concerns about threats to their way of life, including potential profits from a extreme right party in the country’s elections in April, the war in Ukraine and a tense relationship with Russia, which could worsen now that Finland is in a state of distress join NATO.

It turns out that even the happiest people in the world are not so happy. But they are more like content.

Finns get satisfaction from living sustainable lives and see financial success as being able to identify and satisfy basic needs, explains Arto O. Salonen, a professor at the University of Eastern Finland who has researched well-being in Finnish society . “In other words,” he wrote in an email, “when you know enough is enough, you’re happy.”

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

Finland’s high quality of life is deeply rooted in the country’s social security system, said Mr Kiiski, 47, who lives in Turku. “It gives people a sense of security, not to be kept out of society.”

Government funding for education and the arts, including individual artist grants, gives people like his wife Hertta, a mixed-media artist, the freedom to pursue their creative passions. “It also affects the kind of work we do because we don’t have to think about the commercial value of art,” says Ms Kiiski, 49. “So what a lot of the artists here are making is very experimental.”

As a black person in Finland — which is more than 90 percent white — Jani Toivola, 45, spent much of his life feeling isolated. “Too often, I think, as a black gay in Finland you still feel like you’re the only person in the room,” said Mr Toivola. His father, who was Kenyan, was absent for much of his life, and Mr. Toivola, whose mother is white, struggled to find black role models to identify with.

In 2011 he became the first black member of the Finnish Parliament, where he fought for the legalization of same-sex marriage.

After serving two terms, Mr. Toivola left politics to pursue acting, dancing and writing. He now lives in Helsinki with his husband and daughter and continues to advocate for LGBTQ rights in Finland. “As a gay man, I still think it’s a miracle that I get to see my daughter grow up,” he said.

The conventional wisdom is that it is easier to be happy in a country like Finland, where the government provides a secure foundation on which to build a fulfilling life and a promising future. But that expectation can also create pressure to live up to the national reputation.

“We are very privileged and we know our privilege,” says Clara Paasimaki, 19, one of Mrs. Hansen’s students in Kokkola, “so we are also afraid to say that we are not satisfied with something, because we know that we have it that way.” much better than other people”, especially in non-Scandinavian countries.

Frank Martela, a psychology researcher at Aalto University, agreed with Ms. Paasimaki’s assessment. “The fact that Finland has been ‘the happiest country in the world’ for six years in a row could put people under pressure,” he wrote in an email. “If we Finns are all so happy, why am I not happy?”

He continued: “In that sense, dropping it to be the second happiest country could be good for Finland’s long-term happiness.”

The Finnish way of life is summed up in “sisu”, a trait said to be part of the national character. The word roughly translates to “grim determination in the face of hardship,” like the country’s long winters: even in the face of adversity, a Finn is expected to persevere, uncomplainingly.

“In the old days, when it wasn’t so easy to survive the winter, people had to struggle, and then it’s been passed down from generation to generation,” says Matias From, 18, a classmate of Ms. Paasimaki. “Our parents were like that. Our grandparents were like that. Tough and don’t worry about anything. Just live.”

Ever since Julia Wilson-Hangasmaa, 59, immigrated from Zimbabwe in 1992, she has come to appreciate the freedom Finland offers people to pursue their dreams without worrying about meeting basic needs. She is a retired teacher and now runs her own recruitment and consultancy firm in Veelsy, a village northeast of Helsinki.

But she has also seen the rise of anti-immigration sentiment, exacerbated by the Migrant crisis 2015, and concerns about the sustainability of Finland’s high quality of life. “If we have a ‘Finland is for Finns’ attitude, who will take care of us when we are older?” she said, referring to a common right-wing slogan. “Who drives the truck that takes the food to the supermarket so you can go shopping?”

When she returns to her homeland, she is struck by the “good energy” that comes not from the satisfaction of sisu, but from exuberant joy.

“What I miss most, I realize when I enter Zimbabwe, are the smiles,” she said, among “those people who don’t have much, compared to Western standards, but who are rich in spirit.”

Tuomo Puutio, 74, started working at age 15 and supported his family as a cattle and dairy farmer for decades. The Finnish school system, which includes music education for all children, has allowed his daughter Marjukka, 47, to pursue her dream of a music career outside their village. “You get the chance to be a cellist, even if you are a farmer’s daughter,” she said.

Music is a source of well-being for many Finns, many of whom sing in choirs, learn to play instruments or regularly attend concerts, especially during the country’s long, dark winters. But Ms Puutio is concerned that these opportunities may not be available to future generations: Finland is holding parliamentary elections on April 2 and the far-right Finnish party, which won the second highest number of seats in 2019, has pledged to cut funding for the arts if it achieves a majority coalition this year.

“Music, which I’m passionate about, creates a mindset where you can face your inner feelings and fears,” said Ms. Puutio, who now directs an orchestra. “It touches parts of our soul that we otherwise couldn’t reach. And that will have a long-lasting effect on people’s lives, if these experiences are taken away from us.”

Many of our subjects cited the abundance of nature as crucial to Finnish happiness: almost 75 percent of Finland is covered in forest and everything is accessible to everyone thanks to a law known as “jokamiehen oikeudet” or “everyone is right”, which gives people the right to roam freely in all natural areas, whether public or private.

“I enjoy the tranquility and movement in nature,” says 66-year-old Helina Marjamaa, a former track athlete who represented the country at the 1980 and 1984 Olympics. “I get strength from that. Birds sing, snow melts and nature comes to life. It’s just incredibly beautiful.”

Her daughter Mimmi, a dance teacher and licensed sex therapist, recently got engaged to her girlfriend. Mimmi, 36, said 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,” she says. As adults, “we should encourage that.”

Finland’s natural treasures, about a third of which lie above the Arctic Circle particularly vulnerable to the consequences of the climate crisis. As Ms. Puutio, Tuomas Rounakari, 46, a composer best known in Finland as a former member of the folk metal band RavenClanis concerned about the growing popularity of groups such as the Finns Party and the anti-climate policy they have defended.

Global capitalism is still leading. To me, all this is alarming.

Tuomas Rounakari

“I worry about the level of ignorance we have about our own environment,” he said, citing endangered species and climate change. The threat, he said, “still doesn’t seem to change political thinking.”

Reasons for optimism can be personal. For the Hukari family, that reason is badminton.

A sports facility in the rural community of Toholampi has enabled Henna, 16, and Niklas, 13, to compete at a European level, introducing them to new places and players from across the continent. The game has given the teens a fulfilling hobby in a remote area and their parents, Lasse and Marika, optimistic about their children’s future.

Mr. Hukari, 49, hopes that over time the children will come to fully understand the opportunities badminton has given them. “Now, maybe they don’t understand what they’ve got, but when they’re my age, I know they’ll understand,” he said.

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

“My mother used to say, ‘Remember, the blessing in life is in work, and whatever work you do, do it well,'” said Ms Valtonen, 88. “I think Finnish people have been much the same. Everyone did everything together and helped each other.”

Her granddaughter Ruut Eerikainen, 29, was surprised to see that Finland is now ranked as the happiest place on earth. “Frankly, Finns don’t seem so lucky,” she said. “It’s really dark outside, and we can be pretty gloomy.”

Maybe it’s not that Finns are so much happier than everyone else. Perhaps it is that their expectations of contentment are more reasonable, and if they are not fulfilled, they persist in the spirit of sisu.

“We don’t whine,” Mrs. Eerikainen said. “We just do that.”