Danes and Happiness

I just came out from my very last Psychology of Happiness class, so I thought I'd share with you a short essay (and supplementary photos) I wrote about Danes and happiness as part of a portfolio mosaic that we turned in last week.  We were only asked to write two pages, so it's definitely a  topic that could be expanded on, but I also thought it would be a good way to briefly relay my thoughts on the matter to you, the blog readers.  Consider it a blog with references.

On another note, if you want to hear about what's going on with COP15, some of my friends from DePauw are keeping a great blog of updates here!

The Happy Socially Secure Danes:

A Reflection on How Culture Can Beat the Happiness Test

Aside from the original data in the Happiness in Nations report, my observational experience about Danes and their top-ranking happiness waters down to two types of sources: popular media reports with interviews that make causal speculations, and members of the greater internet community who angrily strive to prove the news wrong, listing evidence from personal experiences. On the other hand, my own observations indicate that the people in Denmark are no different from Americans in terms of expressing happiness. I cannot count the possible solutions to these discrepancies, especially with the debates over both the definition of happiness and the question of life satisfaction that the Happiness in Nations report is actually measuring. Nevertheless, we know that they are measuring some difference, and from analysis based on both research and my experience, I believe that Danes report higher life satisfaction ratings due in part to the values they have formed as a national culture—be it a sense of contentment rather than extreme joys, principles of unanimity and community, and even language that supports and emphasizes a pleasant mentality.

There haven’t been too many studies done to crack just why the Danes rated so high on the Happiness in Nations survey, but Kaare et al., who compared Denmark with its northern neighbors Finland and Norway, noted the crucial difference that “Danes have consistently low (and indubitably realistic) expectations for the year to come” (1289). Theoretically, this mindset can keep people from becoming bogged in the disappointment experienced when one fails to reach his self-expectations. Plus, when the threshold is lower, increased instances of exceeding expectations might even improve self-image, however temporarily. It also fits well with excerpts from Knud Jespersen’s account of the formation of Danish national identity and culture, which I read in my Danish class. Jespersen notes that the loss of the German duchies in 1864 did not only whittle the kingdom to its smallest size, but also sprung a change in the collective attitude. Thus, when the Danes acknowledged they were not fit to be a world power with a strong military, the people began to reflect this modest mentality on themselves—working and farming to support the community that they all valued. In short, the attitude became “we don’t have a big world, but we do our best to keep it running, and we are happy doing it together.”

Although Denmark has a western, individualistic culture, this intense sense of homogeneity means that the people also take on characteristics of traditionally eastern, collectivist cultures. In an article on how the self and culture influence subjective well-being, Eunkook Suh explains that people from individualist cultures rate life satisfaction with a locus of internal emotions, while those from collectivist cultures tend to focus on social appraisal. Can the Danes, then, be getting the best of both worlds—satisfied not only with their own successes, but also with the roles they have secured within their tight communities? There is also the fact that the mutual understanding within the homogeneous community and the work to support it economically are two factors that have directly fed the welfare system (Jespersen), which in turn supports people with basic needs and allows them to devote more attention to eudemonic concerns.

Lastly, the Danish language has its own contributions to the Danish mentality. In 1928, when linguist and anthropologist Edward Sapir first wrote about what would later be known as the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis, he proclaimed that “the fact of the matter is that the ‘real world’ is to a large extent unconsciously built up on the language habits of the group” (qtd. in Joseph 72). In Danish, the existence and frequent use of certain words supports a positive outlook. From arbejdsglæde—which describes happiness in the workplace—to hygge—that cozy feeling of fellowship that is so emphasized both within the culture and as a selling-point for tourists—Danes use a language which puts a focus on happiness and contentment. But it should be noted that hygge also carries the connotation of a group wrapped up in their own fellowship and cares, excluding anyone from the outside. So although hygge’s place as the Danish social ideal promotes coziness, the society pays the price of promoting exclusivity.

As an American, the notion of a universally happy society elicits images of constant joy and elation. It’s an unrealistic ideal, and for the scientifically proven happy society in Denmark, the truth lies more in perception and values than it does in the emotions themselves. Like in any country, Danes are gleeful when they put themselves towards their passions, or they may be gloomy and sullen when they are less interested in their current activity. The mastermind behind their high life satisfaction is the strong sense of national identity and community with other Danes—trusting, respecting, and fostering their neighbors, socially and financially. Danes are not filled with happier emotions, but rather supported and supportive within their tight group. The question left now is if it can—or should—be a formula to repeat these results in other cultures.

Flying Colors

Helsingør, Denmark
29 August 2009

The Three Grouches

Køge Festuge
Køge, Denmark
29 August 2009

Still on the Honor System After All These Years

Samsø, Denmark
20 September 2009

Arbejdsglæde: Happy People Make Happy Beer

Samsø Bryghus
Nordby, Samsø, Denmark
20 September 2009

Works Cited

• Jespersen, Knud J.V. A History of Denmark. Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004.
• Joseph, John Earl. From Whitney to Chomsky: essays in the history of American linguistics. Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing, 2002.
• Kaare, Christensen, Anne Maria Herksind, and James W. Vaupel. “Why Danes are smug: comparative study of life satisfaction in the European Union.” BMJ: British Medical Journal: 333.7582 (2006), 1289-91.
• Suh, Eunkook M. “Self, the Hyphen between Culture and Subjective Well-being.” Culture and Subjective Well-Being. Ed. Ed Diener and Eunkook Suh. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2000. 63-86.

Psykologi Skål

So I don't know what YOU did this evening, but I went to my Psychology of Happiness reception, drank some wine, and did this:



Obviously, we kind of butchered the lines in Danish, but it was fun, and I'll provide the lyrics here for your reference.  The words we used are either "yes," "cheers," "I would like to have," or different foodstuffs.

Dashing through the abyss
Of my dismal existence:
Maybe I'll go to Denmark
See what life's like there!
JA! JA! JA!
Jeg vil gerne have
Chokolade kage!
Danish food is on its way to help people each day!

[CHORUS]
OH! 
Wienerbrød, æbleskiver, øl øl øl øl øl!   
Rød grød med fløde og flødeballer,
And then we'll all cheer skål.
SKÅL!
[repeat]

So, then I'll take a class
Called Psych of Happiness
Helle's teaching it
And we think she's the shit!
JA! JA! JA!
We'll romp around the highlands,
Explore our character strengths
Positive psychology is on its way to help people each day!

[CHORUS}
OH!
Seligman, Peterson, Ben-Shahar, Ed Diener
Carol Dweck and Frederickson,
And Philip Zimbardo
HO!

Wienerbrød, æbleskiver, øl øl øl øl øl!
Rød grød med fløde og flødeballer,
And then we'll all cheer skål.
SKÅL!

Tivoli Titillation

For the past two months, the main entrance to Tivoli Gardens taunted me as I passed by it on my morning walk from Vesterport station to DIS.  My childlike mind could only imagine and eagerly anticipate entering the gate and seeing what spectacular carnival lay behind the wrought-iron fence and stucco walls that surround an entire city block.  I wouldn't be surprised if the lit-up letters on the entry-arch were permanently imprinted on my retina, for how many times I longingly gazed up at them.  They just radiate an early 20th century charm that screams 'nostalgic glee' (although more so in the summer season, which I unfortunately was unable to experience)!  Cross that with the fact that it's currently decorated for Halloween (my favorite holiday), and you've got me practically bouncing to get in. 

Well, I finally had the opportunity last night, and I made my way down the main path of pumpkin lanterns into a crowded plaza, layered with shop stalls, mature trees, a lake, lighted eclectic buildings, and performance arenas. Amusement rides are packed in between all of that in ways and at angles that I had never thought possible.  Put this into a space of just over 3 square miles, and you'll find yourself a part of something so kitschy that it rivals Dollywood, Disneyland, and Holiday World combined.  It smells of churros as you walk down the tight alley of shops on the southern edge, and you can happily sip on Pumpkin Pale Ale or varm cacao med 'creamy beige' (that's Bailey's, for those of you not in the know).  You can munch on a mass of candy floss in the rain, as it dissolves and leaves tufts of pink fur on your fingers.  You can even speak English and occasionally insert Danish words (but if you do so, expect your friends to make fun of you for it the entire night).  Personally, I didn't know what to be more excited about--being surrounded by jack o'lanterns or the fact that I was in what I now know is the second-oldest amusement park in the world (est. 1843, although if it was still the summer season I'd only have to travel an hour north to visit Dyrehavsbakken, which opened in 1583).

It really is the historical tradition that makes Tivoli so appealing.  Originally built outside the city fortifications, the park is now totally engulfed by an urban environment, but it still manages to expand as an attraction without actually adding any area.  We're talking here about the park that inspired Walt Disney to make Disneyland--both of which operate on a principle of "never being finished." Rutsjebanen (The Roller Coaster) was built in 1914 and was the oldest operating wooden coaster in the world (until 1999 when a park in Pennsylvania renovated a ca. 1902 coaster).  It's so old it was designed to have a breakman riding the coaster to operate it, AND it's still the most popular ride in the park.  I didn't ride it myself, but I might have to if it's still open when I return for the Christmas season.

I decided to try some of the newer rides, like Dæmonen (The Demon, a steel coaster) and Himmelskibet (The Star Flyer), which, standing at 80 meters tall, is not only the tallest carousel in the world, but also just about the tallest thing in Copenhagen.  It was a new experience to be on a coaster in my winter coat, but the view from Himmelskibet just took the cake.  I could hardly breathe from the wind, and as the swings changed their speed and elevation, tilting the seat in different directions, I was torn between feeling a little like I was about to die and  total elation.

But after that was over, I just enjoyed a crisp, drizzly fall evening, as music played and kids screamed.  And when I got home, I curled up in bed and watched some comedy shows on BBC Entertainment.  I need to take more advantage of that channel while I still can.

Tivoli photos are a part of this FB album and start on page 7.
Disclaimer:  that note about Walt Disney?  It's from Wikipedia.  I hope it's trustworthy.

On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond!

I'm a little unsure about how to do justice to my long study tour to Scotland in just one post.  It's a beautiful country--not just for the breathtaking highlands that surround the cities, but also for the layered streets and tight  closes of historic Edinburgh and the modern vibe of Glasgow.  Yes, we had our visits through Edinburgh Castle, we ventured into the haunted vaults underneath the South Bridge of Edinburgh in a historic ghost tour, and we critiqued aspects of positive psychology with members of Scotland's Centre for Confidence and Well-Being in Glasgow, but I feel like the real value of the trip was the mutual experiences shared with my fellow classmates in Psychology of Happiness.

This was undoubtedly facilitated by the abrupt change in cultural contexts.  On our first night in Scotland, I spoke with many students who felt the same way I did--how absolutely refreshing it was to be in a country where people on the street would welcome you and joke with you over a beer in a bubbly little pub.  That just doesn't happen in Copenhagen (with the exception of the Jutlanders I had met a week before).  Granted, maybe the outward 'coldness' of Danes has more to do with the language barrier.  Sure, they speak English, but I don't speak Danish, and I think that changes the way I act around Danes (I often have a mentality of staying silent, thinking it might be better they just think I'm quiet then know I'm American; I don't want to embarrass myself, right?).  But stick me in Scotland and I'm all over the place obnoxiously speaking English, (even though it did take me a few days to stop saying tak instead of "thanks" and undskylde instead of "excuse me" or "I'm sorry"). 

That behaviour was what got 3 of my friends and me turned into the butt of several jokes at The Stand Comedy Club in Glasgow.  It was certainly all in good fun (and one of my best memories from my time in Scotland, aside from hiking up Ben A'an all of Tuesday), but it's just fact that a guy can't simply walk into a Scottish comedy club wearing a human-rights t-shirt accompanied by 3 loudly-cheering girls and expect not to be called out as American.  Indeed, it was Eli and his human rights ideals that were subject to most of the jokes, while Jill, Katie, and I just sat next to him; together we were a group of overly-happy positive psychology students that exemplified American over-optimism (and the downfall of Halloween, according to one of the acts).  This all meant an overly-giggly night (though, admittedly, the beer didn't help). 

Don't get me wrong, KBH has been good to us DIS students (and did I mention that while I do enjoy haggis, I'm a much bigger fan of Danish food?). But I think I prefer the open, chatty mockery by the Scots to the lurking "am I being judged?" feeling you can get around the Danes.  That can make a big difference, and I'm going to make an effort to be more aware of cultural perception within Denmark: maybe holding back isn't the right way to go about things.

Jill, me, and Katie on the stage at The Stand.

Remember, you can click on pictures to enlarge them (like the one from the top of Ben A'an at the beginning of this entry), or view all my photos from this trip on facebook!

Adventures in Happiness

Pre-departure for Copenhagen, both my parents had the habit of telling people that I was going to Denmark solely to take the "Psychology of Happiness" core course.  This wasn't entirely true.  In fact--from what I could see about it online--it looked like a wishy-washy class about staying positive, and my first response was to suppress the gag reflex.  But hey, if you're going to take a course like this, why not take in in the "happiest country on Earth"?

Well, while it's true that any place we have visited with this class has buttered us up with a combination of tea/coffee, snacks, and a non-traditional seating environment (all of which I couldn't be more stoked about!), I could not have made a less accurate prediction of what the "psychology of happiness" entails.  Positive psychology is a very real (and fascinating) science.  Sure, it may be more on the social spectrum of psychology fields (which isn't particularly my preference), but that doesn't stop it from peering into what makes humans tick at our best levels.  That statement, at any rate, is what I like about psychology--not the abnormal, but the parameters in which we normally operate, which help us feel emotions, react to them in certain ways, and excel over other species. 

I write this now because I spent last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday with my classmates in this course on our short study tour to Jylland (Jutland, the western peninsula in Denmark).  In addition, I had a field study for the course today, and I have a reflection paper due tomorrow (blog-writing is a good way to collect my thoughts on the matter).  Every single place we visited has been an inspiration to me--right down to the non-academic/cultural visits to Koldinghus castle and the Trapholt museum in Kolding.  Who knew that efforts to preserve the ruins of a burnt wing in a castle or the smooth and well-crafted forms of furniture could help form my perspective of happiness within the Danish "tribe"?

Our academic visits, on the other hand, had a strong base in applied psychology, bringing research and positive psychology theories into pedagogy and the workforce.  I was especially expecting to get a little bored at the visit to the Kaospilots in Århus (Denmarks' second largest city).  We were told that they were school that focused on entrepreneurial skills for youth. What they should have told us is that it's a secondary school of awesomeness, where students (some of which already have a bachelors degree, and others have just spent time doing something else since high school) spend three years learning how to direct their own skills to something good for the world.  Kaospilot grads essentially learn how to live a meaningful life, and while most do not choose to get an actual degree for it, they can still find a job or create their own business.

We also had visits to the Universe Research Lab and Danfoss Universe experience park, both run by the Universe Foundation in conjunction with Danfoss--a huge Danish company in the heating/cooling business.  I know that doesn't at all sound related to psychology, but what Danfoss has done is comparable to if Ford built a science/kid's museum on the outskirts of Detroit and devoted a separate foundation to improved education for young Michiganers.  The Universe Research Lab was behind a lot of what gets put into the Danfoss Universe park.  They also have a two-year project with the schools in Vejle, researching working conditions, well-being, and learning for students, teachers, and administrators.  What's even cooler is that the project makes schools to develop their OWN improvement plan, based on the results from the surveys. 

And then there's Danfoss Universe, which was just pure awesomeness in only a few acres of space.  I think a lot of Danish parents are skeptical about the quality of this park.  After all, there are no rides--just learning.  However, you get to ride segways, play with energy, spin around on awesome playground equipment, play with ACTUAL excavators (not the kids-sized ones we had at my pre-school playground!) and lift a car, for pete's sake! Do you know how many 20-year-olds attacked the lever to lift a car?  Pretty much all of us.  And we all had to have a turn being lifted on the ropes when other people let go.  Danfoss Universe also features a giant blue cube that was Iceland's pavilion in the 2000 World Expo, and an exhibit that encourages kids to explore their multiple intelligences (which I unfortunately was not able to spend a lot of time in).

These businesses don't advertise as part of the positive psychology movement.  They don't sell self-help books that will just make us feel worse when we don't need them.  Instead, they improve the world by helping individuals grow on their own terms.  And that's what it's all about.