Grappling with the Danish View of Success

By: Jacob Lee Michael Rosen

March 19, 2013

So there I was, in a small smoky apartment, in my socks, on the floor, in the Norebro section of Copenhagen. Surrounded by about 25 Danes and outfitted in my most “Euro” clothing, I did my best to insert myself in to conversations while trendy electronic music bumped in the background. Not knowing the native language, but being around people who speak beautiful English if needed, presents an interesting challenge when it comes to striking up conversation. There is always some level of uncertainty I have when I try to jump in. Risking a switch from what might have been an intense political conversation to something so superficial as, “Hi I’m Jacob! Where in Denmark are you from?” definitely can be anxiety producing. Nonetheless, I was determined to fully engage myself in the moment, as I knew this was an invaluable opportunity.

As soon as I came to understand these young Danish people were equally interested to talk with me I became much more comfortable in my own skin. The conversations flowed with unexpected ease, and I soon found myself mustering up the courage to move to more intense subjects like politics and life aspirations. Discovering each person seemed to have an intriguing talent or skill that was unique to them was interesting, but was not what struck me most. Instead, what seemed like a general lack of desire for something greater in life was what left the biggest impression on me that evening.

Living in a country with unemployment sitting at 7.6 percent and a national deficit of $16,715,202,485,577.10 as of 6:30 p.m. (CPH time) causes some stress. This high unemployment and enormous debt has given birth to a group of hyper competitive young people scrapping for their first break in the job market. However unfortunate it might be, we live in a world where connections often play a larger role in determining “success” than personal merit.

Georgetown undergraduates, including me, would be lying if they said they weren’t actively associating themselves with others on the basis of building the foundations of a strong professional network. At times we find ourselves consumed by this utilitarian outlook on the world, and it can be downright suffocating. What is most scary is how easily network-building techniques can bleed over into our actual relationships with people.

So there I was, on the floor again. And while I definitely was genuine in all of my conversations, my past experiences conditioned me to attempt building a professional network with bright young Danish people. Whenever a Dane shared with me a personal talent, interest, or skill I would immediately rack my mind for people back home I knew in the field. I would then offer to put the two parties in touch. Every time we reached that point in the conversation I was a bit shocked by the general lack of enthusiasm I was met with. Back home whenever someone offers to put me in touch with a relevant contact of theirs, I practically burst with appreciation, and I guess I expected a similar reaction. This is not to say that I was upset because I didn’t feel appreciated, but was more confused at why someone would not snatch at a professional advancement opportunity.

It was not until last week while attending "Danish Language and Culture" that I realized how botched my interpretation of this social interaction actually was. Our topic for the day was the Danish Jante Law (pronounced Yende Law). It is not an actual law in that you cannot be legally punished for breaking it, but is more of a societal norm Scandinavian people embody. The concept was created by a Dano-Norwegian author Aksel Sandemose in 1933, and this “law” categorizes individual success and achievement as inappropriate and in bad taste. Although today these ideals are nowhere near as prevalent or widespread as they once were in Danish society, they still do remain evident in certain circumstances.

Analyzing my new knowledge of the Jante Law and applying it to the conversations I had a few weeks ago at the smoky apartment party was eye-opening. It became clearer to me that what I interpreted as a lack of aspiration to something larger in life was in fact a very small part of a widely accepted societal norm. It is not to say that Danish people do not want to live great successful lives, but instead as a society they tend to have a more passive approach to the way in which they seek and acquire success. It was not that they were ungrateful for me wanting to connect them with professionals in their field, but instead that Danish culture heavily frowns upon what could have been “using” someone as a conduit for personal advancement. It is the small things in this world that matter the most, and I look forward to further sharing cultural nuances I continue to discover while here in Europe.

Until next time,
Jacob

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