Oh, Happy Danes
by
Justine Nicholas
by Justine Nicholas
DIGG THIS
During the
past few months, there’s been some buzz about a University
of Leicester study that found Denmark to be the happiest country
on earth.
Denmark?
The country with the second-highest suicide rate in Europe? The
home of gray skies, pickled eel, 60% tax rates – and Prince Hamlet,
the most famously depressed character in all of literature?
Yes, that
Denmark. It outranked all of the 178 nations surveyed, including
the US (23rd), UK (41st), France (62nd)
and Japan (90th).
Anyone who’s
even slightly libertarian (Is such a thing possible?) is bound to
ask how can it be. And, I suspect you are at least as skeptical
as I am about surveys like this one. However, however much the validity
of the researchers’ conclusions may be questioned, some striking
insights emerge from their work.
The researchers
concluded that access to good healthcare and education are the most
important factors in the happiness of a nation’s citizens. That
could help to explain why Switzerland ranked second, Austria was
third and Sweden, Finland and Canada made the top ten – along with
Bhutan, an autocratic Himalayan kingdom. It might also explain why
most of the countries at the bottom of the list are impoverished
African states (all of which are, ahem, former colonies) and former
Soviet republics.
However, I
believe that there are two other co-related qualities that the researchers
missed because they may not be as quantifiable as some of the qualities
they measured. For lack of better terms, I will call them proximity
to war and empire and anxiety about influence and power.
These qualities bear upon another phenomenon researchers identified
in the contented countries: People in them do not have lofty expectations
from their own lives or their countries.
One trait that
the Happiest Ten share is that none save Canada has been involved
in a war lately. This flies in the face of what some military historians
and social scientists have argued: Wars actually improve the mood
of a country (at least if people think they’re not losing) because
people "rally around" their leaders and homelands during
time of conflict. Indeed, researchers going all the way back to
Emile Durkheim have noted that
rates of suicide usually decrease during times of conflict and
as people direct themselves outwardly rather than inwardly. However,
I don’t think that people at such times are less likely to commit
suicide because they’re happier. Rather, anger toward a putative
enemy seems to drive people at such times. Are angry people happy
people?
Of the Tickled-pink
Ten, only Canada sent troops to the Persian Gulf War of 1991. However,
our neighbors to the north did not send as many soldiers, sailors
and flyers as this country or its other allies sent. And in my own
none-too-scientific observation, based mainly on conversations with
Canadian friends and acquaintances and following coverage in their
country’s media, the denizens of Quebec and Manitoba did not experience
the surge of jingoistic pride over their country’s sojourn in the
sands as the good burghers of New York and North Dakota experienced
over their country’s imperialistic adventure.
Denmark’s last
entanglement in combat was its ill-fated resistance to Hitler’s
invasion and its aftermath. Switzerland has not been at war, officially
or extralegally, in at least half a millennium; Sweden is also centuries
removed from its last military conflagration. On the other hand,
there’s been talk of Prince Harry himself joining his subjects who’ve
been sinking alongside their American allies in the quicksand of
internecine warfare in the desert.
While France
has refused to send its young men and women to be slaughtered in
the idiocy in Iraq, it – like England and the US – is still staggering
under the weight of its militarism and imperialism. It sent a contingent
to Bush the Elder’s Gulf War, but more important, it – again like
Britain and America – is dealing with the consequences of its fairly
recent colonialism and its military-industrial-welfare state. Even
when they’re not elected to office, Jean-Marie Le Pen and his allies
influence their nation’s politics by stoking smoldering resentments
against les beurs and other immigrants from former colonies.
Why are Algeriens and Ivoiriens flooding the customs
gates of the Paris airports and the Port of Marseille, bringing
the scenarios presented in Le Jour Ou France Tremblera (The
Day France Will Shake) and Le Camp des Saints (The Camp of
the Saints) to life? They are the inevitable casualties of
any empire: The imperialistic power takes their land and other means
of support from them, so they are left with few other options but
to go to their former oppressors in search of work.
Furthermore,
even when France, the United States or the United Kingdom are not
directly involved in conflicts, their economies can be likened to
addicts whose heroin, so to speak, is military spending. (Thank
peace activist/physicist Michio Kaku for the analogy.) To justify
such spending, new enemies must replace the ones that have expired
or become allies. Whipping people into frenzy against young men
who live and die for seventy-two virgins in the afterlife surely
cannot improve anyone’s mental health or well-being. If suitable
bogeymen can’t be found, a country’s plutocrats/warlords have one
option: to sell their wares throughout the world. Thus have the
three aforementioned countries become the world’s leading arms dealers.
This breeds resentment, which gives people justification for their
anger.
None of the
Ten Happiest countries have fallen into this cycle. In fact, the
Swiss have a history of arming no one but themselves, and then only
enough to protect themselves. It’s pretty difficult to build an
empire with such a policy, but, as we have seen, it has also kept
them out of a lot of pointless wars. To be sure, the Danish
and the Swedish crowns once lorded over empires. But the spread
of those courts’ holdings never came close to rivaling those of
his/her Majesty or la Grande Armee in their heydays, and
even the oldest Danes and Swedes cannot remember hearing their cultures’
equivalents of "Rule Britannia." And the fortunate result
is that people in those countries do not have the same oversized
sense of what their nation’s role is, or should be, in the world.
You might say
that they don’t have the hangover or withdrawal that inevitably
follows militaristic imperialism. So they don’t engage in futile
battles to hold on to Caribbean or Arctic islands, as the British
did for so long with Northern Ireland and the French did in their
North African colonies. They also don’t have to act out of fear
that terrorist will wrest their grip off the world’s affairs, as
American leaders seem to be doing now.
Not having
such expansive overseas holdings also ensured that the Danes’ and
Swedes’ languages would be spoken almost nowhere but in their own
countries, and that anyone who emigrated would be assimilated into
whichever country he settled. In contrast, there are still people
who remember when French was the international language of diplomacy
and culture and Britain "ruled the waves." People and
nations cling stubbornly to memories, however distorted, of past
glories and don’t give up visions they have of current lordship.
So the American President finds that he can rationalize nearly anything
and everything he pleases by saying that he leads "the world’s
only superpower," and the French – and, to a lesser extent,
the British – still cling to the notion that their capital is the
center of the universe.
The results
of clinging to such misguided and antiquated notions are encapsulated
in a joke I heard when I was living in France:
Q: What do
you call someone who speaks three languages?
A: Trilingual
Q: What do
you call someone who speaks two languages?
A: Bilingual
Q: What do
you call someone who speaks one language?
A: French,
English or American (depending on who is telling the joke.)
At least one
study testifies to this truth which, like so many others, is
revealed in humor. In contrast, the Danes and Swedes are among the
most likely Europeans to speak a language other than their own.
I have been in many situations in which people spoke a language
other than my own. I certainly felt calmer and more content when
I understood the language. I suspect most people are like me: They
tend to be more fearful of those they don’t understand than of those
they do. In my experience, happiness generally does not include
fear.
So,
the University of Leicester people got at least part of the recipe
for happiness right. Get a good education, be healthy – and get
rid of your armies, colonies and anything else that makes governments
powerful.
May
4, 2007
Justine
Nicholas [send her mail]
teaches English at the City University of New York.
Copyright
© 2007 LewRockwell.com
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