My Espoo museum experience (see previous post) reinforced my fascination with the public-orientedness of Finland. This is a place where the opening of the new public library (the Oodi) in Helsinki was cause for national celebration—and two-thirds of the books were checked out in the first two weeks (the shelves are now gradually refilling). It’s a place where thousands take to the streets in the January cold for Lux Helsinki, a night of illuminated installations across the city that celebrate light (and darkness) and urban life. The willingness to invest in public life—and plunge in—seems much higher than back home.
I was expecting more envy-making insights at a forum I attended at the Oodi on “Building Culture and Community,” Helsinki’s contribution to “The Night of Ideas: Facing Our Time,” an event held simultaneously in cities around the world. There was much to admire in the discussion, including learning about the Cable Factory, a huge former Nokia factory that now houses 250 arts organizations. But more surprising was a conversation initiated by panelist Pauliina Seppälä, co-founder of Yhteismaa (Common Ground), an organization that designs participatory projects with social purpose (http://yhteismaa.fi/en/). Seppälä is frustrated with Finnish culture for what she sees as a lack of community: a resistance to interdependence: “The city does everything for us, so we don’t need each other,” she laments. “We are consumers and we are citizens, but what about our relationship to each other?...Maybe the public sector should do less and put money to people themselves, to get organized!” Seppälä is no neoliberal political conservative (she emphasized her socialist credentials when I talked to her afterwards), but it was striking to hear her chafing against public investment.
Ultimately, the issue is about power: Who gets to make the decisions? With centralized money, Seppälä feels, comes centralized control; and the trendy language about participatory culture serves just as window dressing. “Can’t we do anything ourselves?” she asks. Seppälä’s co-panelist Kai Huotari (managing director at the Cable Factory) echoed some of her sentiments. He fondly recalled spending time in California, where people volunteer for things.
In the U.S., these sort of sentiments have been used to justify public dis-investment and, I feel, have weakened our sense of mutual belonging. This may simply an illustration of "the grass is greener." But the panelists’ discussion raised questions I hadn’t fully considered before: Is there a difference between a public culture and a collective one? How does being a good citizen differ from being a good neighbor? I love museums because they are among the few places in America where people come together and act as a public body. That’s not always easy to pull off. Is it enough?
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