Copenhagen is having a bit of a moment. In 2024, it was ranked second in the Global Liveability Index, just behind Vienna. You’ve probably seen styles from Danish ready-to-wear brand Ganni or photos of Copenhagen’s colorful Nyhavn harbor on your feed. Maybe you’ve heard about its legendarily balanced work-life culture.
Each semester, the 5Cs send dozens of students to study in Copenhagen with the Danish Institute for Study Abroad. These students go to learn about sustainability or the new Danish architecture. They seek happiness, the good life and perhaps even some hygge — that hard-to-pronounce word that roughly translates to coziness.
Last fall, I was one of these students. While there was plenty of hygge to be had, study abroad’s biggest impact on me was that it killed my ego. I’m here to tell you why I think you should let it kill yours, too.
To understand Scandinavian culture, one must first understand the Law of Jante (Janteloven in Danish). Janteloven finds its origins in a 1933 story by Danish-Norwegian author Aksel Sandemose, set in the fictional town of Jante, where the townspeople conform to a strict set of rules to maintain harmony.
Janteloven grew from Sandemose’s story into a social code for Scandinavia that endures today. It says: don’t stand out, don’t think you’re better than anyone else and prioritize collective prosperity over individual excellence.
If I imagined an environment that was the opposite of Jante, where everyone strived for individual excellence by standing above their peers, it would describe nearly every elite college in the United States, including the 5Cs.
I finished my sophomore year at Scripps College feeling burnt out. Like many of my peers, I was overloading on classes and overcommitting to extracurriculars at the expense of my mental and physical health. I applied to study abroad in the fall of my junior year because I needed a break.
During the first month of study abroad, I called home a dozen times, complaining of boredom. Why was everyone so lazy? I wondered. My fellow students, Danish and American alike, were unwilling to work on school projects on weekends and never seemed stressed. I expected my fellow students to want to relax during their semester abroad, but this complacency seemed to extend to my instructors and other working Danes. Where was the hustle? The ambition? How did anyone feel fulfilled?
I began my semester wanting a break, without realizing that it would take some time to detach from the striving I had been trained for in my first two years of college.
I quickly realized that my Danish instructors almost never handed out praise. At first, this made me insecure. I was used to frequent feedback from professors at the 5Cs, and I worried that my work wasn’t good enough. However, by the middle of the semester, I realized that a lack of external validation forced me to take stock of my academic priorities.
With less pressure to be perfect or earn praise, I cleared out some of the mental clutter that I had accumulated from stress. I found more space for community and novel cultural experiences. I became more patient. In short, I became more Danish.
It’s natural to wonder if Denmark’s seemingly utopian state, complete with universal healthcare and free college tuition, only works because it is one of the most homogenous nations in the world — 84 percent of people living in Denmark identify as ethnically Danish, and 72 percent are Evangelical Lutherans. It’s also natural to be suspicious of a connection between troubling aspects of Danish society, like strict immigration policies and persistent Islamophobia, and its conformist norms.
These are valid critiques, and any American living in Denmark will confront them at some point. However, I argue one can embrace the best of Janteloven in a way that emphasizes respect for others and the strength of community above all.
The proof is right in Copenhagen. Anarchist commune Freetown Christiania is now a center for the city’s counterculture and a popular tourist destination. Nørrebro, Copenhagen’s most culturally diverse neighborhood, is renowned for its food, shopping and nightlife.
In the U.S., we’re taught that being successful means being the best among our peers. In Denmark, it is nearly the opposite: Success is contributing to one’s community.
The good news is that you don’t have to travel halfway across the world to embrace the best parts of Scandinavian modesty to support a diverse and strong educational community. We can monitor our airtime in class discussions, not for fear of looking like a know-it-all, but because we believe that when everyone contributes, our class becomes stronger. We can stop looking for validation in rave reviews from professors and instead proceed with humility. We can broaden our focus from being the best to making our community the best it can be.
Molly Murphey SC ’26 studied polar biology at DIS Copenhagen in the fall of 2024. She is happy to be back in Claremont and is no longer gaslighting herself into thinking she likes winter.
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