I walked by the first protest I’ve seen in Finland this morning. It was not very big—maybe a few dozen people standing in front of the large church in the center of Turku—chanting slogans in Finnish. You have to understand that Finns don’t usually make a noisy fuss—the idea of a bunch of people standing in public and yelling is quite out of character. I asked a cluster of young men who were standing nearby what the protesters were upset about. I thought for a minute one guy was rudely pulling my old-lady leg when he said “Woodshopping” and started to explain that you could cut wood in different ways… but then I suddenly understood—he meant wood chopping, and they were protesting the practice of clearcutting forests.
The jarring sight made me start thinking about the strength of the Finnish concern for nature. It seems to have been a theme over the last week. Last weekend Benjamin and I attended one of those public dissertation defenses I mentioned earlier. We weren’t particularly interested in the topic (“the hidden diversity of moss mites”) but it was in English and we were eager to witness one. Part of the candidate’s message was that these mites thrive on moisture on the forest floor, and clearcutting forests was leading to a loss of that important moisture. On Wednesday, I invited my students to join me after class at a local watering hole to continue our conversation. I asked them what their favorite and least favorite parts of living in Finland were. There was a general sense that the things they loved—the benefits of the social democracy like free education and their faith that all people would be cared for from childhood to old age—were under attack. They all nodded their heads when one added that the same was true for her favorite part of Finland, the beautiful nature.
A recent study on Finnish identitysaid that “although around 70 percent of Finns live within the boundaries of towns or cities, a majority (65 %) prefer to spend their time in nature rather than in an urban environment.” According to one websiteabout the depth of Finns’ “forest relationship,” 70 % of Finland’s surface area is covered by forest. “Half of all Finns live a maximum of 200 metres away from the closest forest and more than two-thirds of all Finnish people go to a forest or nature every week for a variety of different purposes. Over half of all Finnish forests are privately owned and every fifth person over 20 in Finland is a forest owner.” Finns enjoy—and are proud of—their Jokamiehen Oikeudet, the law that says that every person has the right to roam on any piece of uninhabited land, to camp or swim, and to enjoy the fruits of that land, such as berries and mushrooms. In the summer, thousands and thousands of Finns visit their family mökki, or cabin, for a few days or weeks or even months.
It’s easy to romanticize this connection to nature, and it’s clear that some of the discussion about it is focused on attracting tourists. But it’s not just an advertising ploy. My conversations with people here and my observations suggest that there is a deeply felt
I’m curious about how the connection to nature affects views on health. I’ve already talked about how people voluntarily submerge themselves into freezing cold water for fun—at least partly because they see it as a way to boost their immune systems and their stamina.
I also notice that, no matter how cold it gets here, most people do not wrap their scarves over their faces—somehow that is seen as not the right thing to do. One person told me that it was better to let the cold air in; that trapping the warm moist air of your breath on your face was not healthy.
In Finland (as in other Nordic countries, I’m told) it’s not unusual to see baby carriages parked outside cafes—with babies in them, napping, while their parents drink their coffees inside. In the winter. People believe that babies (and all people) need fresh air, that it’s healthier than being inside crowded places where germs can spread, and that cold air in particular strengthens children and their immune systems. They bundle the babies up in blankets and snowsuits. And they keep an eye on them through the window; there is very little fear that anything bad will happen. At home and at daycares, too, they will often set babies outside in their carriages for naptime, perhaps on a balcony or in the yard, as long as the temperature does not go below about 20 degrees F.
Some of what appears to be “natural,” though, has actually been thoughtfully and carefully programmed. All the walking, biking, skiing, ice skating that people do? That is at least partly the result of a national program to improve Finnish health, starting back in the 1970s, when heart disease was worse here than pretty much anywhere else. Creative, energetic public health campaigns and immense investment into infrastructure and subsidies that make it possible for almost anybody to get to a local cross-country skiing route that is nicely maintained, or a public pool or ball field. You can read more about it here. More recently I saw a new campaign to get kids’ hands dirty again—let them not only go out into nature, but touch it more—since studies show that coming into contact with a variety of natural habitats is good for our bodies’ biomes. This new planis being implemented in the nation’s childcare centers. “The children in the participating day-care centres will be encouraged to be physically more active and to explore, touch and observe nature around them. Children will also practise self-calming skills in nature.” The combination of people’s love for nature and their trust that getting outside is good for you, combined with national investment in supporting healthy behaviors seems, from what I have observed, to lead to an appealing culture of health.
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