Tall Poppy Syndrome

Last spring, I took a class in Western European politics and was assigned a group presentation on the ideas, interests, and institutions associated with the Swedish welfare state. Now normally these types of situations put me in a cold, dead panic. Not only do I hate depending on other people when it comes to the quality of an assignment associated with myself, but the fear of speaking in front of a room full of people rattles me so thoroughly that I never actually remember what I say. I come to later, having experienced 30 minutes of tunnel-vision and white noise. A blackout more effective than any night of drinking could ever deliver. This particular assignment, however, resulted in some pretty interesting nuggets of insight that I now carry around in my head. And quite a sensational romance, I might add. Once I came to, I realized that it had been worth the temporary disorientation.

Tall poppy syndrome is a phenomenon occurring most commonly in welfare societies, in which the higher class, or the most visibly “taller” poppies are purposefully “cut down” by the other poppies, producing a leveling effect on society. The earliest recording of this phenomenon in Scandinavia came in Aksel Sandemose’s 1933 novel, “A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks”, in which he describes his Danish hometown of Nykøbing Mors. The citizens live by the following rules, called Jantelov (Jante Law):

1. Don't think you are anything. (Du skal ikke tro du er noget.)
2. Don't think you are as good as us. (Du skal ikke tro du er lige så meget som os.)
3. Don't think you are smarter than us. (Du skal ikke tro du er klogere end os.)
4. Don't fancy yourself better than us. (Du skal ikke bilde dig ind du er bedre end os.)
5. Don't think you know more than us. (Du skal ikke tro du ved mere end os.)
6. Don't think you are greater than us. (Du skal ikke tro du er mere end os.)
7. Don't think you are good for anything. (Du skal ikke tro du dur til noget.)
8. Don't laugh at us. (Du skal ikke le ad os.)
9. Don't think that anyone cares about you. (Du skal ikke tro nogen bryder sig om dig.)
10. Don't think you can teach us anything. (Du skal ikke tro at du kan lære os noget.)

This concept was very novel to me when I first began my research, but it seemed to fit in well with the ideas I was trying to assign to the structure of a welfare society. Following a week in the land of 50-70% income taxes, however, I find myself with a more informed perspective on Jantelov. Perhaps the best way to sum up the ways of Danish society would be to quote an article from my Danish Language and Culture class, meant to enlighten us competitive Americans about the Danes’ self perspective:

“It is not considered appropriate to brag of your money, your excellent grades from university, your important job, your family . . . in general you should not in any way hint that you are more or better than others.”

Not so very different from America, though certainly more modest. I’m guessing those braggy Christmas cards detailing the achievements of every member of your extended family would be met with perhaps a heightened sense of contempt in Denmark.

But the plot thickens:

“In the Danish folkeskole kids follow the same class from first to ninth grade. It is considered more important that talented and less talented children get to know each other and learn how to cooperate than to create an environment in which talented and intelligent children get the opportunity to learn as much as possible.”

HOLD UP. I had to read that twice to be sure I was reading it correctly. I think that any American would stop dead at this sentence. Since birth, it has been ingrained in our core values that hard work leads to prosperity, and competition is healthy and necessary in a dog eat dog world. What is this emphasis on cooperation you speak of? Work hard and you will be rewarded. Look out for yourself and you will succeed.

I’ve learned a lot about Danish culture in the past week, and I must admit, it’s hard not to admire this hyggelig little world that the Danes have created for themselves. When choosing Scandinavia as a destination for study abroad, I knew that many parts of my life would remain the same. The sea of Arian faces I see when walking down Nørregade every morning is the same sea of faces I see walking down Pearl St. in Boulder, though perhaps slightly more stylish. I can purchase and eat everything in Denmark that I eat in Boulder, though a spoonful of peanut butter would certainly be welcome. And it only took two Cross-Cultural Encounters lectures to realize that Danes are just as xenophobic towards Muslims as Americans are towards Mexicans. The Danish Tribe is quite protective of their “Danishness”.

But it seems that the most fundamental mentality on life and how it should be lived are what differ the most. I have to plan my time accordingly if I want to grocery shop in my neighborhood after classes, because shops close at 5 or 6. I ate sandwiches for 3 days straight and recounted my frustrations to my roommate, who explained that there are laws about how many hours store clerks can work. And god forbid anyone be subjected to an evening shift (that would be encroaching on vital family time). Apparently, Danes are very concerned about overworking their grocery store employees, and all of their employees, in any field, for that matter. The average Dane works 9-4.

A much, much smaller percentage of Danes actually go for their PhD. But why would they? When everyone is taxed the same exorbitant amount, it makes no sense to be competitive. Sure, with a higher education you will be paid more, but in relative terms, once taxes are paid, you’re not making ENOUGH more than that grocery store clerk to justify working so much harder in a higher position.

I haven’t come to terms with Danish society yet. It lacks a competition and a drive that I am accustomed to, but there are many parts of it that I admire. They are extremely family oriented, and cherish all the extra time that they have to spend with their children. And besides Muslims, I have yet to encounter even one, tiny thing that Danes have to worry about. Everything that gives an American a headache (student loans, picking a career path, long hours in the office, no time for the family) are non-existent in Denmark. The state is the provider. And here I am, the silly little American girl who has always been taught that providing for myself is life’s most important endeavor.

It’s a sweet life, this Danish one.