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FIKA

Here’s what happened when this Swede introduced fika at her London office

You can take the Swede out of Sweden, but you can never take their fika. Hanna Månsson writes about what happened when she brought the concept to her London office.

Here's what happened when this Swede introduced fika at her London office
Hanna Månsson, left, brought the Swedish fika break to her London office. Photo: Private & Fredrik Sandberg/TT

When I left Sweden for London almost 12 years ago I also left behind a lot of things that I really love. Friends and family aside, I left 'mosbricka' at one o'clock in the morning, grillchips with dip at fredagsmys, Eurovision hysteria and a lot of fairly fabulous employment rights. And perhaps the hardest one of all – I left behind fika.

I tried to adapt. Instead of fika I embraced after work pints, boozy brunches and Pimm's-filled park hangs. I became a little English (and a little alcoholic?). But the sacred, coffee-fuelled fika break was harder than I imagined to shake off. I missed it dearly.

Then, eight months ago, I joined a company called Hubble. Being a company with the vision to enable people to love where they work through matching businesses with really cool office space, we constantly talk about what makes employees happy at work. During one of these conversations it appeared to me – what about fika? I knew fika used to make me happier at work in Sweden, would it also work in England?

In the beginning I kept it quiet. After all, suggesting to your employer to give the whole company 30 minutes' extra paid break time per day takes some guts – especially when such an idea is completely alien.

Then, I started gathering ammunition. I read every single research piece and study I could find about fika and its impact on employees' well-being and work productivity. I looked outside Sweden at similar things, and discovered Alex Pentland's study on the positive benefits of short, regular staff breaks.

Finally, loaded with confidence that this was a great idea to introduce at Hubble, I gathered the senior management and did my pitch. I don't know what I had expected, but after ten minutes of me talking nonstop every single person in the room was smiling. “Sure, let's try it,” was the answer I was given. “You get two weeks to run a trial.”

Only Swedes will understand the satisfaction.

The following Monday I announced the start of fika to the rest of the business in our morning meeting. I set a reminder for 3.30pm in everyone's calendar and even made a spreadsheet of cake responsibilities (might have overdone that a bit…). And so it started. In the beginning I was the driving force urging people to get up and join in. But it didn't take long until my role as initiator was superfluous. Suddenly my colleagues were the ones driving the ship. “Isn't it fika soon?” became the most asked question each day.

On the last day of the trial period I sent out a survey to everyone in the business asking how they had found fika. The results were crystal clear – every single person loved it.

The main reason given was that it brought the team closer together and allowed us to get to know each other better in a relaxed environment. Additionally, many found that their energy levels were better in the afternoons which led to better productivity. In just two weeks we became less tired, more productive and a tighter team. And maybe a little fatter, thanks to that spreadsheet.

With these overwhelmingly positive results, there was no question about it – fika was here to stay. That was two months ago, and fika has now become an integral part of our company culture. We don't just enjoy fika, we are proud of fika.

So to all you Londonswedes, UK-Swedes or general scandophiles out there – I say go for it. Here's some research for you to quote, now go out and make fika happen at your place of work.

Hanna Månsson is a Sweden-born, London-based digital marketer, writer and filmmaker. Together with fellow Swede Evy Samuelsson she forms the feminist media production duo 'Linnea&Lovisa'. Follow her on Twitter.

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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