By Trevor Corson*
What is true luxury? Just when I thought I'd settled on my answer – a flat-screen TV the size of Kansas and a leather-upholstered car that can travel at triple the speed limit – I made several visits to Finland.
Shortly after my return the financial crisis hit. Finland has been on
my mind ever since. In these hard times, we could learn a few things
about luxury from the Finns.
Strolling the streets of Helsinki,
the capital, I noticed a lack of grand architecture and opulent homes,
and an abundance of modest cars. Helsinki was a nice enough city, and
it had some gems of modern design, but part of me felt that Finland was
a bit dull. And, strangely, some of the Finns I met seemed to take
pride in this.
Finland seemed even duller on my next visit in July. The weather was
glorious, but Helsinki felt like a ghost town. I learned that most
Finns take a five-week summer vacation,
and that many of them disappear for the entire time to tiny, bare-bones
cottages in the woods. Curious, I wrangled an invitation to visit one
of these secluded cabins. It was meticulously cared for, but lacked any
creature comforts. I quickly realized that there was nothing to do and no one to see.
After
a couple of days at the cabin I was a convert. It was marvelously
relaxing, and I realized the Finns were on to something – a form of
luxury that had little to do with high-end products, the quest to
acquire them, or the need to show them off. While some Finns pursue the
material trappings of success, most seem to feel that the pleasures of
time and solitude are more precious.
During my
visits, I met some North American expats, including a Canadian who'd
lived in the US for years. "I talk to friends back in North America,"
he told me, "and they tell me about all the latest toys they've bought.
Here I'm just puttering away on my little house like a Finn, and that's
about it. The pace of life is slower. I like that."
Americans
in Finland shared similar sentiments. But they weren't naive about the
place, and there was a reason they weren't buying the latest toys.
"I'll never become rich in Finland," one explained, "the taxes are just
too high." But for him it was a trade-off worth making. "Great
healthcare, basically free. My kids get one of the best educations in
the world, free." By the way, that includes college, free. He had no
plans to move back to the States.
As I spent more time in Helsinki,
my own notion of the luxuries available in Finland expanded to include
more than just the quiet pleasures of a cabin getaway. Finnish cities
are filled with universally well-maintained and high-quality schools,
hospitals, buses, trains, and parks. While most Finns might never be
able to own a well-appointed SUV or a big house, they value the
less-tangible assets they do have, which add up to quality of life and
peace of mind.
Finland doesn't pay lip service
to providing a level playing field for all its citizens. It really does
give the vast majority of its citizens a fair and equal chance in life,
in a way that the US just doesn't, no matter how much Americans like to
think it does.
Finland has its downsides, of
course. The Finns I met described high rates of depression and
alcoholism among their countrymen, and admitted that many Finns seem to
suffer from low self-esteem. When I returned to the dynamic bustle of New York, I was happy to be back, even with the financial crisis decimating the economy.
Compared
with Finns, Americans have qualities I admire and treasure: optimism,
an entrepreneurial spirit, and a willingness to be opinionated, for
starters. These qualities will help us fight our way back to economic
health.
But let's face it: The single-minded
pursuit of outsized material consumption helped get us into this mess.
As we struggle to get back on our feet, perhaps we should pause for our
own "Finnish moment."
*Trevor Corson is the author of "The Secret Life of Lobsters" and "The Story of Sushi: An Unlikely Saga of Raw Fish and Rice."
source: The Christian Science Monitor(www.csmonitor.com)
In a letter to a nation, one would expect a 77 year old man who has
ruled for 27years, to present a platter of human and social
developmental strides that have marked his tenure this far at the helm
of the nation. and how these achievements can be preserved by future
generations. But Paul Biya - ruler of the Republic Of Cameroon is no
porter of a platter of any kind, after spearheading the plunge of this
great nation to the abyss of poverty. No doubt his 27th Anniversary
letter to the nation carried a barrage of the futuristic phrase ``I
will...`` , just like the fool at forty who is vowing not to be a fool
forever. 
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