Want proof that the liberal social-democratic society works?
Look to Denmark, the country that routinely leads the world in
happiness surveys. It’s also notable for having the highest taxes on
Earth, plus a comfy social-safety net: Child care is mostly free, as is
public school and even private school, and you can stay on unemployment
benefits for a long time. Everyone is on an equal footing, both
income-wise and socially: Go to a party and you wouldn’t be surprised to
see a TV star talking to a roofer.
The combination of massive taxes and benefits for the unsuccessful
means top and bottom get shaved off: Pretty much everyone is proudly
middle class. Danes belong to more civic associations and clubs than
anyone else; they love performing in large groups. At Christmas they do
wacky things like hold hands and run around the house together, singing
festive songs. They’re a real-life Whoville.
In the American liberal compass, the needle is always pointing to
places like Denmark. Everything they most fervently hope for here has
already happened there.
So: Why does no one seem particularly interested in visiting Denmark?
(“Honey, on our European trip, I want to see Tuscany, Paris, Berlin and
. . . Jutland!”) Visitors say Danes are joyless to be around. Denmark
suffers from high rates of alcoholism. In its use of antidepressants it
ranks fourth in the world. (Its fellow Nordics the Icelanders are in
front by a wide margin.) Some 5% of Danish men have had sex with an
animal. (I could have lived without that piece of information.) Denmark’s productivity is in decline, its workers put in only 28
hours a week, and everybody you meet seems to have a government job.
Oh, and as The Telegraph put it, it’s “the cancer capital of the world.”
So how happy can these drunk, depressed, lazy, tumor-ridden, pig-bonking bureaucrats really be?
Read the rest here.
(Fixed the link)
The 4th Century Science of St Macrina (I)
3 hours ago
2 comments:
John, the link to the quoted article appears to be malformed.
Fixed it. Thanks for the heads up.
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