THERE ARE PEOPLE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN...

On the Swedish character, equality and the idea that no one is better
than anyone else...

That may be one of the most important keys to understanding the Swede, and perhaps also one of the most misunderstood. Swedish equality is not only about taxation, politics or welfare systems. It runs deeper than that. It can be found in the language, in everyday behaviour, in the way authority is treated, in the suspicion of boasting and in the almost instinctive irritation when someone tries to push ahead of the queue. In Sweden, you are expected to wait your turn, regardless of who you are. There is something both admirable and complicated in that.

"JANTE LAGEN" – MORE THAN “DON’T THINK YOU ARE SOMETHING SPECIAL”

When people talk about the Swedish character, the Law of Jante almost always appears. Do not think you are anything special. The expression has become a symbol of a Nordic mentality in which people who stand out risk being pushed back into line. And that side certainly exists. Sweden has sometimes been uncomfortable with people who are loud, highly self-confident, spectacular or very open about their ambitions. Someone who announces, “I am going to become the best in the world,” may still be met with raised eyebrows, especially before they have proved themselves.

But perhaps we make things too simple when we reduce the Swedish mentality to the Law of Jante. Behind the idea of “do not think you are something” lies another thought as well: do not think you are worth more than somebody else.

That is an entirely different principle. The first can be oppressive. The second can be democratic. It says that birth, title, wealth and social status do not automatically make one person more important than another. In many parts of the world, hierarchies are clearly visible. The boss is the boss. The teacher is the teacher. The director is the director. In Sweden, the CEO may sit in jeans and have lunch beside an intern. We address almost everyone informally. Children are expected to have opinions. Politicians can be encountered in supermarkets. Authority often has to be earned rather than simply declared.

That can create frustration, but it also creates something else: a sense that society belongs to all of us.

LAGOM – NOT NECESSARILY MEDIOCRITY

Another word often used to describe the Swede is “lagom”. Not too much, not too little. Just enough. Outside Sweden, the word is sometimes presented as an almost exotic philosophy, but to Swedes it often feels more like common sense. Lagom does not have to mean mediocrity. It can just as easily mean balance: not taking more than you need, thinking about the group, leaving some coffee for the next person and understanding that resources are limited.

It is easy to laugh at, yet the same mentality has probably helped shape a society in which compromise, cooperation and long-term thinking have played important roles.

At the same time, lagom can become limiting. In a world where many forms of success require people willing to be extreme, obsessed or completely unreasonable, the Swedish impulse to level things out can sometimes hold people back. Anyone who wants to change something on a large scale must occasionally dare to be very un-lagom.

There is one of the Swedish contradictions: we often admire the results achieved by exceptional people while feeling slightly uncomfortable with the behaviour and obsession that made those results possible.

THE SWEDE AND THE NEED FOR DISTANCE

Swedes are peculiar in another way. We like people, but preferably at the right distance. There is an old international stereotype that Swedes will sit alone on a bus rather than take the empty seat next to another passenger. Like most stereotypes, it contains at least a grain of truth.

Personal space matters. We happily walk in the forest alone, spend time at the summer cottage, appreciate silence and can live close to other people without feeling a constant need to talk to them. For someone from a culture in which family, friends and neighbours are continually present, Sweden can sometimes feel cold. But the Swede does not necessarily experience it that way.

Solitude can mean freedom. Silence can mean respect. Not interfering in another person's life can be a form of consideration.

The problem begins when we assume that our signals are universal. What a Swede means as “I respect your privacy” may be interpreted by someone else as “I do not care about you”. And the opposite can happen too. What another culture experiences as warmth and community may feel intrusive to a Swede.

It is often only when cultures meet that we realise how much of what we call normal is simply habit.

TRUST – THE INVISIBLE GLUE

One of the most important Swedish characteristics is also one of the least visible: trust. Swedes generally expect things to work. The bus should arrive. The authority should follow the rules. The person in the queue should wait their turn. An agreement should mean something. The basic institutions of society should function.

That does not mean Sweden is free from corruption, crime, dishonesty or institutional failure. No society is. But there has long been a relatively strong underlying expectation that the system can be trusted.

That affects almost everything: how companies are organised, how people work together, how authorities operate and how much control is considered necessary. High trust acts almost like an invisible lubricant within society. When people trust one another, fewer controls are required, fewer guards, fewer stamps, fewer rules and fewer people whose job is to supervise everybody else.

It is extraordinarily valuable and extremely difficult to rebuild once lost.

CONSENSUS – BOTH STRENGTH AND WEAKNESS

The same applies to the Swedish love of consensus. We discuss, consult, circulate proposals, listen to everyone and try to reach a solution that as many people as possible can live with.

It can be frustrating, particularly for people from cultures where the boss makes a decision and the organisation simply carries it out. But the Swedish model has a strength. Once the decision has finally been made, there is often a wider understanding of why. People have participated. They have been heard.

The problem comes when a situation demands speed. When somebody simply has to say, “This is what we are doing.” Swedish consensus culture can then turn into paralysis. Everyone waits for everyone else. Nobody wants to overrule anyone. Nobody wants to be the person who makes the uncomfortable decision.

A quality that creates stability under normal circumstances can become a weakness during a crisis.

Culture often works that way. Our greatest strengths and our greatest weaknesses sometimes sit very close to one another.

YOU OFTEN SEE SWEDEN MOST CLEARLY FROM OUTSIDE SWEDEN

It is only when the Swede leaves Sweden that Sweden becomes truly visible. At home, we rarely think about our own cultural habits. They simply feel normal. But move to the Balkans, southern Europe, Asia, the Middle East or the United States and suddenly you discover just how Swedish you actually are.

You react to hierarchy, bureaucracy, people arriving late, people speaking loudly, bosses expecting special treatment, friends appearing without warning and families being far more involved in one another's lives.

At first it is easy to think: why do they not simply do things the way we do?

Then something changes.

You begin to understand.

Not necessarily agree, but understand.

And there lies perhaps the most important image of all.

THERE ARE PEOPLE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN

Imagine two villages. They stand on opposite sides of a mountain. The people in one village have lived there for hundreds of years. They know when the snow will come. They know how houses should be built. They know what land can be cultivated. They know their neighbours. Their way of life feels completely natural.

On the other side of the mountain there is another village. The people there have developed different solutions. Perhaps the wind blows differently. Perhaps there is more water. Perhaps the soil is better. Perhaps the winters are milder. They build their houses differently, eat different food and organise their families differently.

If the two groups never meet, both villages may easily believe that their way is simply the natural way to live.

Then one day somebody crosses the mountain.

And discovers something.

There are people there too.

People who love their children. People who worry about the future. People who bury their parents. People who want to be seen. People who are proud of the place they call home.

Neither village needs to be better than the other.

They are different.

That does not mean every solution is equally good. Societies can obviously learn from one another. Some systems work better than others. Some traditions should change. Some ideas can be destructive. But we do not need to make other people smaller in order to appreciate our own way of life.

THE SWEDISH PARADOX

There is also a Swedish paradox here. We like the idea that all people have equal human value. At the same time, we can sometimes be remarkably convinced that our own way of organising society is the most rational.

In other words, we can become slightly self-satisfied about our lack of self-importance.

We are not like the others, we think. We do not believe we are better.

And therefore, in some strange way, we may begin to believe we are slightly better.

That is human. Every culture has blind spots. But perhaps Swedes should occasionally remind themselves of their own old ideal: nobody is superior to anybody else.

Not even us.

YOU DO NOT NEED TO MAKE SOMEONE ELSE SMALLER

None of this means Sweden should deny what it has achieved. Quite the opposite. There is much worth valuing: a tradition of equality, popular education, civic associations, work ethic, pragmatism, relatively weak social hierarchy, strong personal freedom, a close relationship with nature and a culture in which cooperation is often valued more highly than prestige.

Those are meaningful achievements.

But mature pride does not need an opponent.

You do not have to say somebody else is worse in order to appreciate your own country. You can say: this is our way. This works for us. This is what generations before us have learned.

And at the same time, you can remain curious about the people on the other side of the mountain.

Because perhaps they have something we have lost. Stronger community. Spontaneity. Respect for older people. Warmth. The ability to improvise. Resilience when systems fail. A life more closely connected to family. A different relationship with time.

You do not have to adopt everything.

But you can listen.

SO WHO IS THE SWEDE?

So who, then, is the Swede? There is of course no single answer. Sweden is full of people with different backgrounds, temperaments and experiences. But cultures leave traces.

Somewhere there remains an image of a person who works, keeps their word, waits their turn and does not consider themselves superior to their neighbour. A person who can be cautious but stubborn, independent while relying on a strong society, individualistic yet shaped by collective solutions, quiet but often very determined, conflict-averse until a boundary has finally been crossed, modern yet strangely anchored in the forest, the lake and the summer cottage.

Perhaps the Swedish character can be summarised quite simply:

Do your part.

Do not push ahead of others.

Do not believe you are worth more than anyone else.

But never forget that there are people beyond the horizon. People who have built their lives differently. People who see the world from the other side.

Because there are always people on the other side of the mountain.

And when we finally walk over there, perhaps we discover something even more important:

The mountain did not separate us nearly as much as we once believed.