An audio version of this post is available here.
My mother has a theory as to why Canadians and, by extension, Swedes, Norwegians and Finns, are known for their at-times excessive levels of politeness, hospitality, and “don’t rock the boat” mentality: all these peoples spend their winters in bone-chilling temperatures, and even if you don’t particularly like your neighbours there’s not going to anyone else around to dig you out of your house in the event of a blizzard; so you’d better try your best to get along with them regardless. My mother further argues that Canadians are the most polite of all, owing to our British heritage – she may not be an anthropologist, but I can’t help but feel that she may be on to something.
Whether it’s
environmental or ancestral – or both – it cannot be denied that
we circumpolar dwellers can, at times, strive to be too kind for our
own good. The evidence of this happening in Sweden, Finland and
Britain has been done to death, but critical commentary on the
Canadian conundrum is comparatively lacking. My hunch is that this is
owing to two things: the first is that Canada is, ultimately,
somewhat irrelevant on the world stage in terms of day-to-day affairs
– like New Zealand, it takes something of a disaster for our
happenings to make international headlines; the second is that in
Canada it has become somewhat of a taboo to make generalizations as
to our own values, behaviours and cultural quirks. Although we know
that we do have them – even our politicians have a hard time
denying that – Canadian society has become so paralyzed by the
manufactured fear of “excluding” someone or another from the
broader conversation, we’ve had to resort to shutting the thing
down entirely. Canadians are so polite, in fact, we have
seemingly lost the will to stand up for ourselves when challenged to,
even when the very fundamental principles of our society are under
threat.
In person, that is.
Under the spotlight we are as tepidly passive as the situation
requires, but it is what you do in the dark that speaks the truest to
one’s character. Herein lies the other side of Canada, of
Canadians, from east coast to west; a phenomenon better known (as
usual) by its American incarnation: “Minnesota Nice.”
Minnesota Nice
refers to a stereotype of behaviour attributed to, well, Minnesotans.
Wikipedia defines its aspects, in short, as follows: “polite
friendliness, an aversion to confrontation, passive-aggressive
behaviour, a tendency toward understatement, a disinclination to make
a fuss or stand out, emotional restraint, and self-deprecation.”
To my Canadian
readers: sound like anyone you know?
It should be noted
that Minnesota played host to a great deal of immigration from
Germany and Scandinavia during the 19th and 20th
centuries; anyone who has seen either version of Fargo will likely
have noticed the unusually high percentage of characters with
Scandinavian surnames. It is thought that this heritage may have
contributed to the development of Minnesota Nice mannerisms, as there
is arguably a fair deal of overlap between this type of behaviour in
a small subset of North Americans and that of the Scandinavian
cultures at large. For further evidence to support this we might look
to what is called the “Law of Jante” (Janteloven
in Danish), something of an unofficial “Nordic
code of conduct” that was
first put into words by the Danish-Norweigian novelist Aksel
Sandemose in 1933, but that has
already existed on the basis
of unspoken agreement for quite some time before.
As
the novel that first featured these “laws” was satirical in
nature, the aforementioned tendency toward self-deprecation is,
itself, palpable through Sandemose’s choice of phrasing. The Ten
Rules of the Law of Jante are these:
1. You’re not to think you are anything special.
2. You’re not to think you are as good as we are.
3. You’re not to think you are smarter than we are.
4. You’re not to imagine yourself better than we are.
5. You’re not to think you know more than we do.
6. You’re not to think you are more important than we are.
7. You’re not to think you are good at anything.
8. You’re not to laugh at us.
9. You’re not to think anyone cares about you.
10. You’re not to think you can teach us anything.
In the novel’s context, “we” refers to the residents of the town of Jante. In the sociological context, “we” refers essentially to society at large — to anyone who’s not “you.”
With the possible exception of #9 (our country’s robust social safety net screams We care about you! Even if the excessive wait times and rampant abuse of the system suggests the opposite), the sentiment behind these laws can be felt throughout numerous aspects of Canadian culture: be humble and don’t stick your neck out; don’t try to speak for anyone but yourself; and, somewhat more recently, check your privileges before you go on highlighting your personal achievements – in other words, don’t highlight them at all.
If we’re being
perfectly honest, this kind of mentality is seen almost exclusively
among Anglophone Canadians of European descent. That’s not to say
that it can’t be found among Canadians of differing
ancestry, only that I, personally, have not seen anywhere near the
same level of excessive humility and non-confrontation among them as
I have among European, particularly “old-stock” Canadians. If the
reader feels that none of this applies to them, they are free to
exclude themselves from the generalization – but it cannot be
reasonably denied that there are large swaths of the Canadian
population who do behave in this manner. My own opinion is that this
mentality has played a large role in leading us to this social,
political, and cultural mess that we now find ourselves in. We’ve
been trying to sweep these problems under the rug for so long, we’ve
come to a point now where we can no longer walk across it without
tripping.
Take, as an example, the following excerpt from a Maclean’s article on anti-immigration sentiment in Canada, aptly titled “The Rise of an Uncaring Canada”:
“There are a few
inconvenient facts that don’t often seem to sink in with the
anti-immigrant crowd. To name a few, that Canada needs immigrants in
order to maintain economic solvency, that Canada has international
obligations, as well as moral ones, to take in refugees, and that our
total refugee intake is small compared to other G8 nations.”
Do you see the similarities? Don’t think you know more than we do. Don’t think you are more important than we are or, in this case, than anyone else on the planet is. Stop complaining; things are much worse elsewhere. Underneath it all is something of a smug-suggestion that anyone who disagrees with the presented opinion is, well… an idiot, or heartless, or even a heartless idiot. We must not forget, even if it does not work on us as individuals, how successful this guilt-tactic has been for preserving establishment rule – it’s been so for decades.
Now,
Canada at large has seen comparatively less cultural influence from
Scandinavian settlers than has Minnesota, to be sure – but perhaps
we should be wondering about the conditions that led to such a
mentality developing
among Nordic societies in the first place. Was it the harsh,
cold winters leading
to a
survival imperative to get along at all costs? Is
it something that can perhaps be traced further back into the psyche
of our Germanic, tribal ancestors from long ago? Is it something else
entirely? We may never know
for sure. But to be frank,
the why doesn’t
quite matter so
much as the need for us to acknowledge
and understand this aspect of
our culture, to become fully aware of our own behavioural
tendencies and, in doing so, come to harness them for our benefit –
if such a thing can be done.
Where
Canada appears to deviate significantly from this Minnesota-Jante
paradigm is in terms of active, rather than passive aggression:
outside of the ice
rink, we are (socially speaking) woefully adverse to “throwing
down,” as it were. I myself have often wondered if the reason why
any good hockey game sees at least
a punch or two thrown from both sides of the rink, if not a full-on
dog-pile, has anything to do with some sort of pent-up rage and
frustration within us as a people. It may similarly explain the
Canadian tendency toward complaining endlessly about a given issue in
the company of our close
peers, only to turn around
and behave as if everything is perfectly fine; or
at least fine enough that we can’t really be bothered to go about
trying to change things. This
may have something to do with our nation’s political history as
well: for the most part, over
the last 150 years, our
opinions (particularly in the west) regarding anything
have been seen by the Laurentian elite as largely irrelevant, and
have been treated as such accordingly. Canadians are no stranger to
the art of complaining without being heard, but what is worse is that
we are unable to harness this frustration in the pursuit of actually
doing something
productive about our sorry state of affairs – we wouldn’t want to
impose, you see. What
if we’re just overreacting? What would people think!
But
perhaps this is beginning to change. As much as we may look to our
southern neighbours, wishing that we had the gall to march, protest,
and throw things with the same, patriotic passion as the Americans
are won’t to do, we have to remember that we are not actually
Americans, despite all of our media saturation in their
pop culture, politics and various other domestic affairs. Our
revolution may not be televised, but the wiser among us no longer
trust the Canadian media to cover anything of importance that happens
in this country, anyway. We
do not have nearly as many soapboxes to stand on as Americans do; all
the more reason why it is so important for us “dissidents” to
spread the message through whatever avenues we do
have at our disposal.
Hope
for the future may come in the form of the “Blue Wave” that is
now sweeping across provincial politics. As of yesterday, six of our
ten provinces have now openly rebelled against the progressive
hegemony – Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick, Manitoba, Alberta, and
Prince Edward Island – thus taking a seat at the table with
Saskatchewan, which has been under
conservative management for
some twelve years already. True
to form, Quebec has decided to do the whole “conservative politics”
thing differently, which ought to surprise no one; nevertheless, the
rest of the converts stand together in opposition to the present
status quo. No one trapped within the ever-shrinking progressive
bubble seems to have seen it coming, but to the residents of these
provinces it makes perfect sense: no, Canadians will not protest
outside of CBC headquarters or organize weekly rallies and marches
with the same intensity as Americans might, even if they
are endlessly slandered by various
pundits and op-eds calling us all sorts of terrible things, but again
– we are not Americans. We are Canadians; we
are polite; we will do things our own
way. We will smile and nod
and apologize in person, no matter how much it pains us to do so, but
as soon as the opportunity arises we will complain about the
encounter as much as is required to make us feel a bit better about
ourselves.
And
there’s no better place to complain than from behind the privacy of
a voting booth.
This
is why I tell people not to trust polls in general, but particularly
those of Canadians: we have no problem lying in someone’s face to
preserve the necessary illusion of collective agreement, and polls
seem to be no exception. For better or for worse, there is a
duplicity about us that cannot be ignored; you
simply cannot trust a Canadian to be perfectly honest about anything
that isn’t about their own shortcomings. This, too, is similar to
the infamous Swedish phenomenon of “consensus culture”: we are
loathe to rock the boat, to say or do anything too much against the
current consensus, but once someone or something
gets it started, once the masses begin to see that they are not alone
in their thoughts – that theirs has become the new consensus –
they are all too eager to get onboard.
The
glaring downside to this tendency of ours is that we are easily
manipulated through it: all it took for progressive insanity to
capture us in droves was the complete domination of our media by its
promoters, executed purposefully
over several decades. We have
been led to believe, falsely, that the progressive consensus is
in the majority – thus we had no choice but to go along with it.
This time around however, there is another world of opinion to be
found. On social media, just as it would among trusted friends and
family, the real
consensus began to form: people are angry, tired, and frustrated; and
it is far easier on our cultural psyche for us to tweet, blog, or
vlog about it than it is for us to march, scream, and throw things in
the streets. It is clear from all of the mainstream media’s
hullabaloo over “fake news” and “election interference” that
the establishment elite have since realized the danger that social
media poses to their continued grip on power: in a country as
thinly-spread and regionally isolated as Canada, any means that we
have of talking to one another outside
of the progressive filter serves to undermine their
carefully-constructed illusion of widespread agreement with their
agenda. Once enough voters realize that it is socially “safe” to
dissent, the dominoes begin to fall.
The battle is far from over, and even the current crumbling of the Liberal base may not lead us anywhere worthwhile at the end of the day: our political system remains deeply corrupted, and our federal conservative party’s positions amount to no more than the adage of “progressives doing the speed limit.” It is not clear that the wider, more existential concerns that we have for the fate of this country will, or even can be addressed. It may be hard, at times, to feel hopeful for a country whose politicians seem to be seriously entertaining the idea of “putting a price on plastic” – but pessimism, too, is something of a Canadian cliche.
Now more than ever is the time to spread the word; to find our allies and raise hell alongside them. We have to take the conversation out of our living rooms and further into the public space. Even those less technologically-inclined Canadians, those who still watch the news regularly (imagine!) will, at some point, have no choice but to notice the massive blow that has been dealt to the Liberal brand at the provincial level; no choice but to acknowledge that the times are indeed changing. Some will welcome it, others may not – but my feeling is that there are more out there who will be receptive to change than we may have previously thought possible.
Now is the time to find out if I’m right.