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OPINION

OPINION AND ANALYSIS

How to calm down: get off Facebook and start talking

In a world that's suffering a political nervous breakdown, getting off Facebook and arguing face-to-face could be the best way to calm us all down, argues The Local's managing editor James Savage.

How to calm down: get off Facebook and start talking
Calm down, guys. Like this man in Almedalen. Photo: Henrik Montgomery/TT

I’m writing this from Visby, a medieval walled city on the island of Gotland, which this week is home to the entire Swedish political establishment, businesses, charities and most of the media for the Almedalen political week. Some say the soul of Almedalen political week has been snatched by big business. And endless seminars on the future of public procurement aren’t exactly the stuff of political viagra. 

But actually, what’s most striking about Almedalen is how open and varied it is. For every big business, there are dozens of charities, political parties, pressure groups and ordinary people with bees in their bonnets.

Ordinary tourists might be crowded out of the tiny medieval town for the week, but the gabfest still brings people together. 

As I write this, the Sweden Democrats, Sweden’s nationalist party and the country’s third biggest, are preparing for their day in the spotlight. Yet also today the European Commission is holding a debate about the role Europe should play in the refugee crisis, the Salvation Army is discussing human trafficking and a feminist group is talking about porn. 

And those are just a few of hundreds of talks, seminars and discussions being held on a single day. All of them open to anyone who wants to drop in. And all of them face-to-face discussions. All  of them civilised, reasonable discussions between people who often disagree with each other.


Prime Minister Stefan Löfven talking to journalists at Almedalen. Photo: Linus Sundahl-Djerf/SvD/TT 

This is the perfect antidote to Facebook, where it’s becoming clear that the algorithm essentially delivers us arguments that we’re already likely to agree with, meaning it can be very hard for facts and counter-arguments to get through. Put another way, social media will reinforce your prejudices and protect you from alternative views. Discussions, when they happen, often result in people digging their heels in rather than re-examining their views.

This became glaringly apparent during the Brexit referendum in Britain. The success of the Leave campaign’s populism and lies (lies that they cheerfully admitted to hours after the result) and the failure of the sober and factual Remain campaign led to claims that we’re living in a post-factual society. Very often Leave voters and Remain voters say few of their friends held a different opinion from them, and many complained they found it hard to get hold of facts.

Events in America, split between supporters of Trump and opponents distraught that their countrymen can support a populist, racist demagogue, seem to mirror events in the UK.

Equally, both Trump and Brexit reflect deep anxiety from globalisation’s losers. The chasm that separates the elites of our capital cities and the half of the population who reject them is wider than ever.


Leave supporters campaigning in the Brexit referendum. Photo: Sofia Eriksson/TT

And you see it everywhere in our western world. Take a trip to the former industrial areas of Bergslagen in Sweden and you’ll see the same empty shop fronts you’ll see in Britain’s north-east. With asylum centres opening up in closed down hotels across the area, the Sweden Democrats have been prospering by talking up the problems of immigration.

Likewise, in a portrait of the small town of Fougères in Brittany, the French magazine Nouvel Observateur, painted a familiar picture of closed-down factories, run-down public services and struggling farms. Locals speak of Romanians and Poles working in local factories on short-term contracts at wages 30% below what locals would command. The centrist local mayor reckons “Frexit” would be supported by six out of ten locals if they were given a vote.

People are determined to send a message to the smug, urban, cosmopolitan middle class. To the journalists, the university educated, the politicians, the lawyers, the bankers, to those of us who find more in common with people like ourselves in Paris, London, Berlin and New York than with them. To the people who will speak up loudly for immigrants – our big city friends, neighbours (and cleaners) – but work hard to ignore the existence of areas a couple of hours down the road. To the elite.

That message is getting heard loud and clear. But an election or a referendum is a blunt (and in the case of referenda, toxic) instrument for communicating. And the echo chambers of Facebook and Twitter are making things much, much worse. It’s time for us to re-learn the art of talking – face to face – with people we disagree with.

FOOD AND DRINK

OPINION: Are tips in Sweden becoming the norm?

Should you tip in Sweden? Habits are changing fast thanks to new technology and a hard-pressed restaurant trade, writes James Savage.

OPINION: Are tips in Sweden becoming the norm?

The Local’s guide to tipping in Sweden is clear: tip for good service if you want to, but don’t feel the pressure: where servers in the US, for instance, rely on tips to live, waiters in Sweden have collectively bargained salaries with long vacations and generous benefits. 

But there are signs that this is changing, and the change is being accelerated by card machines. Now, many machines offer three preset gratuity percentages, usually starting with five percent and going up to fifteen or twenty. Previously they just asked the customer to fill in the total amount they wanted to pay.

This subtle change to a user interface sends a not-so-subtle message to customers: that tipping is expected and that most people are probably doing it. The button for not tipping is either a large-lettered ‘No Tip’ or a more subtle ‘Fortsätt’ or ‘Continue’ (it turns out you can continue without selecting a tip amount, but it’s not immediately clear to the user). 

I’ll confess, when I was first presented with this I was mildly irked: I usually tip if I’ve had table service, but waiting staff are treated as professionals and paid properly, guaranteed by deals with unions; menu prices are correspondingly high. The tip was a genuine token of appreciation.

But when I tweeted something to this effect (a tweet that went strangely viral), the responses I got made me think. Many people pointed out that the restaurant trade in Sweden is under enormous pressure, with rising costs, the after-effects of Covid and difficulties recruiting. And as Sweden has become more cosmopolitain, adding ten percent to the bill comes naturally to many.

Boulebar, a restaurant and bar chain with branches around Sweden and Denmark, had a longstanding policy of not accepting tips at all, reasoning that they were outdated and put diners in an uncomfortable position. But in 2021 CEO Henrik Kruse decided to change tack:

“It was a purely financial decision. We were under pressure due to Covid, and we had to keep wages down, so bringing back tips was the solution,” he said, adding that he has a collective agreement and staff also get a union bargained salary, before tips.

Yet for Kruse the new machines, with their pre-set tipping percentages, take things too far:

“We don’t use it, because it makes it even clearer that you’re asking for money. The guest should feel free not to tip. It’s more important for us that the guest feels free to tell people they’re satisfied.”

But for those restaurants that have adopted the new interfaces, the effect has been dramatic. Card processing company Kassacentralen, which was one of the first to launch this feature in Sweden, told Svenska Dagbladet this week that the feature had led to tips for the average establishment doubling, with some places seeing them rise six-fold.

Even unions are relaxed about tipping these days, perhaps understanding that they’re a significant extra income for their members. Union representatives have often in the past spoken out against tipping, arguing that the practice is demeaning to staff and that tips were spread unevenly, with staff in cafés or fast food joints getting nothing at all. But when I called the Swedish Hotel and Restaurant Union (HRF), a spokesman said that the union had no view on the practice, and it was a matter for staff, business owners and customers to decide.

So is tipping now expected in Sweden? The old advice probably still stands; waiters are still not as reliant on tips as staff in many other countries, so a lavish tip is not necessary. But as Swedes start to tip more generously, you might stick out if you leave nothing at all.

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