The other day, a photo came up on Facebook that took me down one of those memory-filled rabbit holes that seem to crop up from time to time. A friend whom I had spent time hanging out with when I was on my OE back in the 90s posted a photo of her daughter, all grown up and entering the world. Said friend (and, for that matter, her daughter) lives in Denmark, a country that I lived in for a time during the same OE.
Seeing that photo got me thinking about the time I spent in Denmark – the open-faced sandwiches, the copious quantities of Carlsberg beer and the preoccupation with salted liquorice. I remember one icy evening in the little town of Ry near Aarhus, enjoying Christmas with a friend’s family. We were all wrapped in warm clothes, sitting around a small wooden table and sipping gløgg by candlelight. The snow outside blanketed everything in silence, while inside, the room was all warmth and laughter and quiet contentment. It was my first real encounter with hygge, that untranslatable Danish feeling of coziness and connection.
The photo of my friend’s daughter and the memories it brought back of Denmark got me thinking not only of Hygge, but also what enables it – a society in which happiness is the general default. That topic, happiness, was itself the topic of an opinion piece recently in the New York Times.
The article was an exploration of why the Nordic countries perennially top the world happiness rankings. I found myself nodding along with many of its conclusions. The piece argues that what makes Finns (who have been #1 in the index for years) and, by extension, their Nordic neighbors – so consistently content isn’t some elusive national secret but a very intentional societal design: high levels of trust, low inequality, a strong social safety net, and a culture that genuinely values moderation. (To be fair, from time to time, alcohol consumption in the Nordics is lacking a degree of moderation, but I digress.) Alcohol aside, it’s not about being cheerful all the time. It’s about having your basic needs met and feeling secure enough to focus on what matters most.
When I lived in Denmark, that security was palpable. There was a calmness in how people approached life, not because everything was perfect, but because the essentials were stable. You didn’t worry that a medical emergency would bankrupt you. University education didn’t come with the same crushing debt as it does elsewhere. And perhaps most tellingly, people weren’t constantly looking over their shoulder or striving to “get ahead” in the cutthroat, competitive sense that has become so familiar in more Americanized cultures.
Which brings me home. In New Zealand, we like to think of ourselves as relaxed, down-to-earth, and egalitarian. But I worry we’re heading in the opposite direction. We’re buying into the myth that happiness comes from economic growth, relentless hustle, and being the next Silicon Valley of the South Pacific. Meanwhile, our happiness rankings are slipping. Our cities are becoming less affordable, our public services increasingly strained, and inequality more glaring.
The NYT article notes that happiness in the Nordic model stems from a balance of individual freedom and collective responsibility. Finns and Danes enjoy personal autonomy, but it’s underpinned by a deep sense of social cohesion. There’s an understanding that your well-being is tied to that of your neighbor – not in a preachy way, but in a lived, daily reality. In Denmark, I saw this in everything from urban planning to parental leave policies. The entire system seemed designed to support a good life, not just a successful one.
Contrast that with the creeping influence of American-style capitalism in New Zealand. We’ve imported the lingo – start-up culture, side hustles, productivity hacks – but lost the plot when it comes to communal care. Our workdays are growing longer, our weekends shorter, and the social safety net that once gave Kiwis a strong foundation is showing signs of fraying. It’s as if we’re sprinting toward an ideal that even Americans themselves are starting to question.
This isn’t about romanticising Scandinavia or suggesting New Zealand can or should become Denmark overnight. There are cultural, geographic, and historical differences that can’t be ignored. But the broader lesson from the NYT piece is worth listening to: the happiest countries aren’t chasing happiness in the way we think they are. They’re creating the conditions for it. They’re investing in trust: in government, in each other, and in systems that prioritise well-being over wealth.
I think about that December night in Ry often. Not because it was extraordinary, but because it was so beautifully ordinary. There was nothing to prove, no performance to give, just a shared sense that this – being together, being warm, being still – was enough. That moment didn’t cost anything. It didn’t need to be posted or monetised or optimised. It simply was. And it stayed with me.
In New Zealand, we need more of that. We need to protect the parts of our culture that already align with those values – our connection to the land, our belief in fairness, our historical commitment to looking after one another – and guard against the forces that are eroding them. The road to greater happiness isn’t paved with more ambition but with better priorities.
Maybe we don’t need to outpace the rest of the world. Maybe we just need to slow down and remember what made us feel whole in the first place.
