The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
Some Finn to think about
Previously, it was great to be a Dane. Now it’s fine (not to say fun) to be a Finn. The denizens of Finland, it would seem, have risen without trace to become members of the happiest nation in the world. They are following in the often snowbound footsteps (and couldn’t we in Britain, judging by recent weather events, learn from that?) of Norway, Denmark and Iceland in terms of general social jollity and satisfaction with life, the universe and if not everything, well, quite a lot of things. Sweden isn’t quite as highly delighted with itself as these others following the Nordic model of social democracy, high taxes and high benefits but it’s still in the top 10.
But what in the name of fortune makes the North (except in Game of Thrones) so damned cheery? If Wallander (aka Inspector Morose) is anything to go by, Scandinavians in general are no strangers to the furrowed brow and the grimace of misery.
On the other hand, that may work for them. Maybe it’s because they get it all out of their systems in interminable series of Nordic Noir, so they don’t have time for all that angst and stress in real life. Could it be that they’re too busy benefiting from reasonable levels of income, high life expectancy, social support that is second to none, freedom of choice, equality of the sexes and levels of individual trust and generosity that are just oozing from every pore?
Or maybe they’ve just made a bit of a speciality of finding interesting and instructive things to do on all those dark nights rather than indulging in dark nights of the soul.
Finland seemingly has taken longer to recover from the financial crash than many other nations but seems to have done it better. And maybe, on a more serious note, people bond, instead of fracturing, when trouble comes because they have already pulled together and enjoyed the luxury of being treated equally. Nobody feels as if someone else is getting more or doing better than they are, getting what they shouldn’t or what they don’t “deserve”.
Looking north, of course, especially to a fellow chilly nation with a population of about 5.5 million souls, is something that has been happening quite a lot in Scotland recently, as we attempt to find a new political role model. I suspect, given all this new information, we could “go faur and fare waur” than taking a good, long look at Finland. What’s in a name? It’s difficult to escape the fell grasp of D J Trump Esq on the attention of the watching world, even if said watching is increasingly taking the shape of Dr Who-style viewing – i.e., between your fingers from behind the couch. No matter how one tries to ignore him or pretend he doesn’t exist except in the fevered minds of dissatisfied coal miners in Pennsylvania or scramble brained members of the NRA, he is a political gift that just keeps on giving.
Whether he’s falling out with China or sending troops to form a human shield on the as yet wall-lite Mexican border, he also finds time to add to the greater gaiety of nations in his (not very) private life. His chequered relationship with the female of the species is on record. And he is also a man who does not believe in climate change. But when you put these two things together, like bits of a strange jigsaw that seem to have no business anywhere near each other, I bet he believes in the existence of the warm front that is adult film performer Stormy Daniels, currently, in spite of alleged attempts to silence her, managing to rain very effectively on his parade.
Now, whatever you think of Ms Daniels’ chosen profession, you have to admit that she’s made her mark in ways that don’t involve what passes for her day job. Not least because, if nothing else, she is living proof that the perfect way to create your porn star name is to use a combination of your first pet and your mother’s maiden name. But as life continues to outsmart art, if one can call Ms Daniels’ cinematic oeuvre art, it seems that one of the Kardashian klan has named her recently-born daughter Stormi with an ‘i’, which has the doubtful merit of sounding more like a porn star than even an actual porn star does.
Of course, it could be that Ms Daniels chose her nom de guerre not from her childhood hamster and her hitherto blameless maternal line but from her favourite weather condition and her beverage of choice. Think about it. That would make me Sunny Gordon. And I suspect the Significant Other might find himself answering to something along the lines of Haar Auchentoshan.
In which case, next time the president chooses to visit his Caledonian holdings, I suspect he should take great care to give an extremely wide berth to anyone he might happen across who claims to be called Dreich Buckfast.
But what in the name of fortune makes the North... so damned cheery?