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LANGUAGE AND CULTURE

OPINION: Why do Danish leaders seem rude?

Cultural differences that struggle to overcome linguistic transitions can easily affect the way in which Danes are perceived in leadership roles, writes guest columnist Skip Bowman.

Published: 29 September 2017 16:10 CEST
OPINION: Why do Danish leaders seem rude?
Photo: Iris/Scanpix

Over the years, I have had to explain Danish leadership and organisational style to many non-Danes. And the typical reaction has been: I wish I had known that 8 years ago. And that’s because lots of things about Danish culture when translated into English come out wrong.

Danish leaders are often described as candid and direct by non-Danish employees and colleagues; rude even. This is not the case in Danish, as Danish culture is relatively conflict-avoidant. So how come?

Firstly, Danes are judged to be expert users of English based on the fact that their grammar and pronunciation are good. They are regarded as the most competent non-native speakers of English.

However, their mastery of social rules like politeness is not as good. Secondly, Danish intonation is very flat in English (especially when compared to Swedish and Norwegian) Flatness in intonation, combined with a preference for sounding competent rather than charismatic, can lead to coming across as direct and perhaps tough.

When you sound like you master the language, native English speakers will tend to attribute everything you say as what you mean. Unfortunately, Danes often don't mean everything they say from a social point of view.

READ ALSO: What Google says about the Danes (and other Europeans)

Thirdly, Danish leaders often translate Danish expressions and phrases directly into English. In Danish, there are lots of small words and sounds that reduce the directness of what is being said, but these are missing in the English version.

So, Danes can sound rude. And this is combined with an egalitarian, “tall-poppy” syndrome where putting down friends, colleagues and employees is a sign of affection. It’s a little like the Australian “mate” phenomena. By making fun of you, and you making fun of me, we are on the same level. However, this does not translate well either especially when it is couched in irony or sarcasm.

Danes are contenders for the world championship in irony and sarcasm. They deploy lots of it daily in almost all work relationships. It’s kind of funny, kind of uncomfortable. A little like being tickled and poked with a pointy finger all day. And sarcasm doesn’t translate well, like when I overheard a Danish boss say to a guy from Estonia that he didn’t like it when he didn’t know what his employees were up to. Now, I think the Danish leader was joking, but the Estonian who had a very different and literal understanding of the comment, was not laughing.

Danish people tend to have fairly stable and limited social networks. Making deep and personal relationships after university is not that common. In fact, social networks in Denmark are notoriously hard to penetrate for foreigners or Danes moving from one side of this little country to the other. Add to that, Danes don’t like flattery, or any other exaggerated forms of social recognition. They really struggle with the positivity, expressiveness and enthusiasm of many American colleagues and business partners. Danes describe it as superficial.

READ ALSO: Social entrepreneur: 'I learned early on that I was an outsider'

Don’t expect Danish leaders to say please. Danish language is based on “1000 thank yous”. Foreigners always ask for the equivalent of please, to which there is no easy answer.

Add to this that most Danish children grow up in families where showing respect for parents or older members of the family is not as common or as distinct. In fact, intimacy seems to be expressed by a lack of respect.

Teachers, too, are mostly on first-name basis. It’s got to do with the extremely low hierarchical aspect to Danish culture.

Because they master English, Danes also take leading roles in cross-cultural groups. This is regarded as the “native speaker” phenomenon. That groups are led not by the most technically proficient person, or the most important, but rather by the person who speaks English the best.

Danish children are taught to participate, not to lead. This is quite different to other countries. This means that when they are given leadership roles for non-Danes, they often struggle with a more “leader with a big L” type of leadership.

When they have to set direction, give confronting feedback, create accountability, it doesn’t come out well in English. It sounds even more bossy or patronising than it should. This is because being a leader for anyone other than Danes requires a much stronger sense of role.

‘Show more ambition’ is a common advice I give to all Danish leaders. Non-Danes are, rightly so, more inspired by leaders who have a strong sense of where they are going. Danes fear too much charisma, deeming it equal with manipulation or incompetence.

Unfortunately, too, Danish leaders are brought up to under-promise and over-deliver. So, they tend to show enthusiasm mainly for problems and challenges and things that are going wrong.

READ ALSO: Why you should learn Danish (and how it will benefit you)

To become effective, I have had to train Danish leaders to become comfortable with being someone they “think” they are not. These are my common tips:

1. Show more enthusiasm and recognise success
2. Learn to speak more politely
3. Show more interest in making friends
4. Remove all irony and sarcasm
5. Speak more passionately; use stronger adjectives
6. Respect authority and the people who do
7. Stop looking down on employees that expect more direction than you are comfortable giving.

Danes, like many Scandinavians, are obsessed with authenticity: “I don’t want to be anyone I am not”.

Unfortunately, being who you ARE in a foreign language or across cultural differences requires translation. Acting like a Dane in English will mean that you end up being someone very different than you expect in terms of impact on others.

Skip Bowman is CEO with consulting company Global Mindset. This article was originally published on Global Mindset’s social media channels and is republished with permission. The video version of the article can be seen on the Global Mindset YouTube channel below.  

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OPINION AND ANALYSIS

OPINION: Down with Danish hygge – Sweden’s mys is more real, fun and inclusive

Hygge, the Danish art of getting cosy, has taken the world by storm. But the Swedish equivalent is refreshingly different, says David Crouch 

Published: 20 December 2022 08:41 CET
Updated: 6 August 2023 11:03 CEST
OPINION: Down with Danish hygge - Sweden’s mys is more real, fun and inclusive

It is around seven years since the Danish word hygge entered many of our languages. Hygge, pronounced hue-guh and generally translated as the art of cosiness, exploded almost overnight to become a global lifestyle phenomenon.

Hygge dovetailed with mindfulness and fed into other popular trends such as healthy eating, and even adult colouring books. “The Little Book of Hygge” became a publishing sensation and has been translated into 15 languages. It was swiftly followed by a second book from its author, “My Hygge Home”, one of dozens on the market. 

There is nothing wrong with new ways to relax, and certainly no harm in identifying them with Scandinavia. But as a guide to living your life, there are some problems with hygge. 

First, the original meaning of the word is too broad and subtle to enable a clear grasp of the concept among non-Danes. This probably helps to explain its appeal – hygge is an empty bottle into which you can pour whatever liquid you like.

Patrick Kingsley, who wrote a book about Denmark several years before the hygge hype, was “surprised to hear people describe all sorts of things” as hygge. Danes, he said, would use the word when talking about a bicycle, a table, or even an afternoon stroll. 

So it is hardly surprising that, outside Denmark, hygge is applied rather indiscriminately. Last week the New York Times devoted an entire article to achieving hygge while riding the city’s subway, of all places. “A train, after all, is basically a large sled that travels underground, in the dark,” it said, trying too hard to find a hint of Nordic-ness on the overcrowded railway.

READ ALSO: Danish word of the day – hyggeracisme

Hygge has become an exotic and mysterious word to describe more or less anything you want. It is as if someone decided that the English word “nice” had a magical meaning that contained the secret to true happiness, and then the whole non-English speaking world made great efforts to achieve the perfect feeling of “nice”. 

A second problem with hygge is that, in Denmark itself, it seems to operate like a badge of Danishness that can only be enjoyed by Danes themselves – a kind of cultural border that outsiders cannot cross. You can walk down a Danish street in the dark, one journalist was told, look through the windows and spot who is Danish and who is foreign just by whether their lighting is hygge or not.

When writer Helen Russell spent a year in Denmark, she was intrigued by hygge and asked a lifestyle coach about it. “It’s hard to explain, it’s just something that all Danes know about,” she was told. How could an immigrant to Denmark get properly hygge, Russell asked? “You can’t. It’s impossible,” was the unhelpful reply. It can’t be a coincidence that the far-right Danish Peoples Party has put a clear emphasis on hygge, as if immigration is a threat to hygge and therefore to Danish-ness itself. 

READ ALSO: It’s official – Hygge is now an English word

Outside Denmark, this exclusivity has taken on another aspect: where are all the children? Where amid the hygge hype are the bits of lego on the floor, the mess of discarded clothes, toys and half-eaten food, the bleeping iPads and noisy TVs? “Hygge is about a charmed existence in which children are sinisterly absent,” noted the design critic for the Financial Times. It’s as if the Pied Piper of hygge has spirited them away so you can get truly cosy. 

But there is a bigger problem with hygge. It is largely an invention, the work of some clever marketing executives. After spotting a feature about hygge on the BBC website, two of London’s biggest publishers realised this was “a perfect distillation of popular lifestyle obsessions”. They set out to find people who could write books for them on the subject, and so two bestsellers were born, spawning a host of imitations. 

Sweden has a different word that means roughly the same thing: mys (the noun) and mysig (the adjective). There have even been some half-hearted attempts to sell mys to a foreign audience in the same way as hygge. But the real meaning of mys in Swedish society is rather different, it seems to me. The reason for this, I think, is that mys has become so firmly identified with Friday nights, or fredagsmys – the “Friday cosy”. 

Fredagsmys is a collective sigh of relief that the working / school week is over, and now it is time for the whole family to come together in front of some trashy TV with a plate of easy finger-food. The word first appeared in the 1990s, entered the dictionary in 2006, and became a semi-official national anthem three years later with this joyous ad for potato crisps:

In this portrayal, mys is radically different to hygge. It is a celebration of the ordinary, witty and multi-cultural, featuring green-haired goths and a mixed-race family with small children. Food is central to fredagsmys, and what is the typical food of choice? Mexican, of course! Not a herring in sight.

Why Mexican? It seems nobody is really sure, but tacofredag now has roots in Swedish society. Tacos, tortillas, and all the accompanying spices and sauces take up a whole aisle of the typical Swedish supermarket. Swedes are accustomed to eating bread with various bits and pieces on top, according to a specialist in Swedish food culture, while the Swedish tradition of smörgåsbord (open sandwiches) makes a buffet meal seem natural. The fussiness of tacos is even reminiscent of a kräftskiva crayfish party.

There is no cultural exclusivity here. On the contrary, fredagsmys food could equally be Italian, North American, Middle-Eastern, British or French. And children are absolutely central to a good Friday cosy. 

With Swedish mys, everybody is welcome. Get cosy and relax, but do it by mixing and getting messy, rather than retreating into pure, perfect, rarified isolation. There is a time and a place for hygge. But the Swedish version is more real, more fun, and more inclusive.

David Crouch is the author of Almost Perfekt: How Sweden Works and What Can We Learn From It. He is a freelance journalist and a lecturer in journalism at Gothenburg University.

 
 
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