Denmark has an interesting political structure.

Firstly it’s a multi-party system, so most bills are only approved after negotiation and compromise between opposing parties who form a ruling government coalition. Secondly general elections are not decided by physical votes from the population, but rather by counting the number of placards erected around the city minus the number that have been vandalised. No wonder they have turnouts of over 85%.

OK, so one of those isn’t true, but on a serious note, Enhedslisten (the Red-Green Alliance) are the only ones to have highly innovative campaign designs. One of their comrades even gave me a free cup of coffee this morning as I cycled past her. It’s a shame it was wasted as I’m only allowed to vote in local elections.

While the world continues to struggle with how to update copyright laws, this article from Tim O’Reilly in 2002 provides an interesting angle with which to view the situation:

“Piracy is progressive taxation”

For all of these creative artists, most laboring in obscurity, being well-enough known to be pirated would be a crowning achievement. Piracy is a kind of progressive taxation, which may shave a few percentage points off the sales of well-known artists (and I say “may” because even that point is not proven), in exchange for massive benefits to the far greater number for whom exposure may lead to increased revenues.”

Full article to put the quote in context.

The Danes’ sense of humour is typically quite black, satirical and self deprecating. They also often don’t have the same sensibilities and restraints about swearing when speaking English. Combine these two with a trip to the doctor and it can be quite entertaining.

When I visited a year or so ago to have my ears looked at, I was greeted with “F#CK! I am thinking your brain is falling out” as I lay on the examination table. Today while having a small blood blister removed from my arm, he pretended my entire limb had to be amputated for several minutes before telling me to brace myself as “these things bleed like sh#t”.

It’s actually quite charming hearing a qualified practitioner in his 60′s mumble his literal Danish translations in broken English. I was prepared this time and played along with his quaint ways, thankful that he overlooked my lack of Danish fluency with a little humour.

Still, as fun as trips to the doctor can be, I’m not sure I’d want him giving me news of a terminal illness.

The UK is busily preparing itself for the forthcoming switchover to digital-only television signals. Originally the licensing authorities deemed that because the digital set-top boxes were inherently colour devices, people with black and white television sets would now require a colour license.

Yes, that’s correct, there are currently two types of license available, along with two types of prices:

Colour (£135.50)
Black and white (£45.50)

As you can see it’s a considerable discount, and so after a deluge of complaints, the qualification criteria have been changed to apply to the final viewing device only, ignoring any equipment installed along the way.

While on one hand this seems like a fairer, more logical solution, the real issue of why these people are being offered such hefty reductions in the first place doesn’t seem to have been addressed at all.

If anyone can explain to me why owning outdated equipment should be rewarded then I would be very grateful. Surely any price differential should be due to the level of service bought from the service supplier, not a choice in how the service is used by the consumer? It’s akin to getting a discount on your heating bill because you left it on while you were out, or money off your electricity bill because you had your eyes closed while the lights were on.

What heightens the ridiculousness is that the license, which is essentially a tax, funds a multitude of things including extra digital services, radio, BBC Online, etc. If there were 66% reductions on other taxable services for similar reasons, then there would rightly be uproar.

The enforced digital age of course means enforced use of higher power-consumption devices on a mass scale, probably undermining all carbon emission initiatives undertaken so far. Energy saving equipment and those without standby modes are probably the only consumer choices in this market that should be rewarded.

NOTE: The tone of this post suggests that television is an essential service on a par with other major utilities. While I don’t personally agree with this, I think it is fair to deem it as such because of the near-blanket usage, a bit like a washing machine.

I had my first proper encounter with the Danish police today when they pulled me over early this morning. Instead of flashing sirens and pincer movements, they used a small sign saying Stop Politi that was mounted on a rather long wooden stick, which they dangled into the cycle lane in front of me and my bicycle.

I duly stopped peddling, moved my bike to the pavement and lent it on the stand, while a uniformed officer got out of his car and made his way towards me.

“Jeg har et spøgsmål til dig”

Understanding that he had a question for me, I replied:

“Is it OK if we do this in English? My Danish isn’t very good.”

Then, as some Danes do when suddenly confronted to speak English to a native speaker, there was a very brief moment of self-doubt in his eyes, but it was enough to make him say:

“I’m a Danish police officer.”

I’m not sure if it was a desire to put him at ease, or because it was early in the morning and I was still quite sleepy with shower-wet hair freezing my scalp, but I instinctively responded in a rather offhand fashion.

“I can see that.”

It was enough to snap him back in a military-like professionalism and he started barking questions at me.

“Why are you biking so fast?”
“Um.. I enjoy it”

“Why do you have a girl’s bike?”
“It err.. matches my top”

“Where did you just get it from?”
“My back garden!”

As each answer came out I became more and more shocked with my apparent obnoxiousness. I couldn’t understand where it was coming from, but really I didn’t know what else to say. It was true that I was cycling a little faster than the other morning commuters, but I enjoy feeling a burn in my calves and arriving at work a little out of breath. It’s my daily exercise, but I was only a few minutes from my house and certainly wasn’t in danger of breaking any speed regulations. It’s also true that I ride a girl’s bike and was pleased that I’d coordinated my baby-blue hoody with it today. Some of the other reasons I opt for such a model, are that I don’t have to swing my leg over a bar when wearing tight jeans and there’s an excellent basket for carrying my shopping home. I was pretty sure that if I’d offered any of these as part of my explanation I’d only have made things worse.

So there I was behaving like a smart alec in front of a foreign authority and feeling like I’d been coerced into it somehow. I was trying to imagine what answers he really expected from such an odd questioning procedure when he demanded my CPR card (unique citizen identification in Denmark), read the frame number from my bicycle (all bikes are supposed to be registered to owners) and then radioed them into headquarters.

“There’s lots of stolen bikes in Denmark.”

It was only now that I realised I was under suspicion of robbery. I guess a grown man riding a teenage girl’s bike at some speed is prime stop-and-search territory. I struggled for something reasonable to say, but I was on a roll so I relaxed into my new temporary persona:

“I know, this is my third in two years, but you didn’t do a very good job of finding them did you?”

He returned to the car and sat with his colleagues waiting for the radio reply, while keeping an eye on me in case I tried to make a dash for it. I spent the wait being grateful that I hadn’t ended up knocking his hat to the floor and flicking the v’s in his face. Ten minutes later he popped his head out of the window, mumbled “have a good day” and drove off.

I feel sorry for them in a way. They’re either dealing with mass rioting or waving wooden signs at cyclists. Denmark doesn’t really offer them anything inbetween. Still, they really should have been preparing for the 6th instead of making me late into work.

The Danes are often depicted as xenophobic, despite their intrinsically humanistic culture. It’s something I’ve found increasingly interesting during my two years here, but despite a lot of thinking about it, I still feel a long way from being able to understand it. Whenever I feel like I’ve unlocked the mindset, I invariably become thrown by the complexity of it all again.

However, after recently returning to the UK for a week (my longest trip for quite some time) I was shocked to discover so much intolerance and racism; mostly revolving around the current integration “problems” the country is apparently facing. The general attitudes and comments I overheard actually seemed in stark contrast to what I thought I knew about those in “homogeneous” Denmark.

The British media and politicians are in general pretty savvy and PC about such topics (and when they’re not they know what the consequences will be), whereas the respective Danish institutions could probably be described as ‘clumsy’ in their choice of words (and images).

But the underlying moods of the two populations also seem at odds. The Danes I’ve spoken to regarding the issues their country is facing, usually admit to a type of naive confusion together with a good understanding that they have problems that need to be solved. The atmosphere I’ve recently experienced in the UK (both in cities and smaller towns) seems to be the opposite and I’m usually left feeling that people who “should know better” are resorting to closed minds and stubborn regret at the situation.

I realise that this is all hugely stereotyped and open to such factors as language differences, locations, the way one views cultures from afar and a whole host of other things. It’s not meant to be a affirmation of anything, but merely some thoughts resulting from spending time in two culturally quite similar countries at different stages of globalisation. I’m generally quite confused and fascinated by it all and would love to hear other peoples’ thoughts on the matter.

Finally, I’ve just discovered (via here) this excellently written article from 2003 by an American who has lived in Copenhagen since the 1970s. It’s quite long, but discusses what issues he faced as an expatriate, a whole host of perceived contrasts between the cultures of USA and Denmark and eventually touches on the current integration issues towards the end. It’s definitely worth a read.

Life in Another Language by Thomas E. Kennefy.

Whether you agree with the philosophy behind this or not, it’s a great example in both scaling ideas and clean, simple presentations. Read more about string theory.

Vacation attitudes vary a lot across the world. British companies work endlessly through the summer season with employees’ leave scheduled in a serial fashion to limit the loss of manpower in the workplace. Conversely, most of continental Europe chooses to shut down for a month or two, and let everyone head for their summerhouses at once (America is another pattern altogether of course – I’m not sure they actually take vacations at all).

Denmark follows the later and while it’s not a shock to see the hand-scribbled ferie lukket signs appearing on shutters across town or to receive an out-of-office reply for every sent email (this is the country of 4pm closing times and weekday-morning-only-banking after all), it is an odd paradox for a country with such a strong economy.

Not much happens at all during July and August. By this I obviously mean work in the traditional sense – the number of social events and activities happening in Copenhagen during this period reaches fever pitch (I can’t remember the last weekend there wasn’t a festival of some sort). But judging by the number of bars, cafés and outdoor eateries that are closed, I doubt the Danish are even aware of such ‘ideologies’ as making hay while the sun shines.

Now, I’m certainly not implying that a nationwide relaxation period isn’t a good idea. I think these communal breaks are a wonderful thing, I just can’t understand how a business plan that includes “..and of course I’ll be away in Spain collecting starfish from rock pools during the height of the tourist season” ever gets a stamp of approval from the bank manager. But then of course, he’ll be jet skiing in the Øresund and not worrying about negative balance sheets or missed opportunities.

Anyway, as this period comes to an end and people drift back to their shops and offices, there seems to be two very distinct reactions. Firstly, happy people get happier. Those with a job they enjoy, return with a new enthusiasm to get things done and make a difference (this is evident from the amount of new work and types of project Spoiled Milk has been contacted about recently). Secondly, sadder people get sadder. One of the local papers is today full of stories and statistics about the dramatic increase in mild depression during the post holiday season weeks. Stress and sickness rocket and people apparently slump into endless despair.

It’s a fascinating contrast and one would hope that this introspection en masse causes the sad people to realise they should make changes and gives the happy people a productivity boost they wouldn’t have had otherwise.

Of course being British, I took most of my vacation earlier in the year so I could work through it all and unnecessarily cover for the Danish members of staff topping up their tans. I burn easily anyway.