Coincidently reading the latest LRB over a pint in my local I came across this letter on the nordic social democratic utopias
Owen Hatherley writes that Scandinavian countries, bar ‘some controlled neoliberal experiments’, are still among ‘the most affluent and egalitarian on the planet’ (
LRB, 8 February). This is a myth that is no truer of Sweden than it is of the UK. As Andreas Cervenka’s 2022 book
Girig-Sverige (‘Greedy Sweden’) – still, inexplicably, unavailable in English – demonstrates, the rapid dismantling of the welfare state that began in the early 1990s, with the government of Carl Bildt, has only been advanced by successive administrations. Sweden no longer has any wealth tax or inheritance tax; property taxes are largely nominal. The country has more billionaires per capita than either the US or the UK. Privatisation of state assets has been rampant, with the effect that the public health service is now difficult to access and hugely inefficient, the waiting lists for public housing in the cities of Gothenburg and Stockholm are many years long, and public rents are increasingly pegged to the ‘market rate’. This last item is especially bad news in a market that saw a million kronor (currently about £76,500) fall in purchasing power from 200 square metres in 1995 to 22 square metres in 2022 – before the latest above-inflation hikes.
Meanwhile, the thoroughness with which the marketisation of state agencies was carried out means that these agencies are not allowed to own their premises, but must pay market rents to other state-owned commercial entities. Universities, for example, move out of buildings they used to own because they can no longer afford the rent. But what should be done with a listed building designed as an Art Nouveau college of crafts in the early 20th century when the college is forced to move out? Even the Riksdag, Sweden’s parliament, has faced questions over whether it can afford the rent owed to the Swedish Property Board.
The problems began long ago, during the ‘Golden Age’ of social democracy in the 1970s. It’s true that many public housing projects incorporate lots of open space and border on what in Sweden is called ‘nature’: open woodland, for instance. Burcu Yigit Turan of the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences talks of ‘greenlining’, a reference to the ‘redlining’ process in the US which prevented Black Americans from accessing loans to buy houses, so that they were unable to accrue wealth in property in the way white families could. While the Social Democrats built a million new high-quality public homes between the mid-1960s and the mid-1970s, they also deregulated the housing market for the first time, ensuring that new suburbs of detached houses went up at the same time as the large apartment blocks (the Swedish habit of acquiring a
sommarstuga, a summer house, took off during this period too). The working classes had their public apartments and the middle classes could speculate on the value of their villas: what separated these parallel worlds were the green spaces, ‘nature’ acting as a planned class buffer. The segregated working-class suburbs were often left unfinished and over the years many started to fall into decline. Once large-scale immigration began in the 21st century, class segregation turned into racial segregation – which, of course, is now blamed on the immigrants themselves.
When I lived in Belfast, the excuse always given for segregated urban space, bad planning and a dysfunctional society was the deeply disruptive effect of a long war. In Gothenburg, a similar city in very many respects, the explanation is that it was actually designed this way. Social democracy in Sweden was consciously planned as a bulwark against full-strength socialism and the most radical plans (worker ownership of factories, for instance, as envisaged under the Meidner Plan) were never realised. It’s high time that the fairy tale of Sweden as a social utopia – then and more especially now – was put beyond use.
Daniel Jewesbury
Gothenburg, Sweden