The Swedish interviewees noted that it takes continuous presence over time to build trust between residents and regional public authorities and to form realistic expectations of how both sides can contribute to preparing for and responding to crisis. Similarly in Denmark, interviewees noted that civil society organisations benefited from being more localised and accessible, and they were able to engage with residents as more trusted actors with regards to resilience-related actions compared to the national government. Citizen associations also serve an important role during a crisis by helping members find a joint voice when discussing common hardships or by highlighting their identity as active members within their communities (exemplified in Grindavík). Understanding that trust and genuine community building takes years, Nordic actors can identify and appreciate existing organisations and the everyday activities they do to build it, even—and perhaps especially—when these activities are not initially designed for resilience purposes (i.e., resilience as a “byproduct” rather than a primary aim).
Therefore, national-level actors seeking to bolster trust in their resilience approaches may consider building on existing networks and actions. Actors that are already rooted and active in their communities not only enjoy a trusted position and knowledge of local needs, but they also often possess the emotional and relational capacity that is key for this work. Engaged community actors can build social cohesion by reducing anonymity and developing shared understandings of risks which is essential groundwork for more strategic plans.
Trust is also commonly referred to in the academic discourse, with research highlighting how, in general, Nordic countries have high levels of trust in state institutions (Berling & Petersen, 2021; Larsson & Rhinhard, 2021). The case study findings, however, suggest that one cannot take for granted that ideas of crisis preparedness always resonate among local actors. The academic literature also raises the point of trust not only among individuals and public authorities, but also trust in societal security ideas—for example, total defence (Hyvönen & Juntunen, 2021). The case study findings support earlier research from Selle & Wollebæk (2015), who argue that institutional trust is important and is achieved through strong civil society. “Both the legitimacy of public institutions and their ability to deliver over time depend on a vibrant organisational society in which the organisations have independent institutional significance in their own right. Similar to other key social institutions, their functions include shaping sets of values and reducing vulnerability and uncertainty” (Selle & Wollebæk, 2015, p. 273). We see this at play in the cases of public libraries in Norway and Finland, as well as in the case of the Red Cross in Denmark. Furthermore, Luonila et al. (2023) point out the significance of cultural activities in everyday life for building social cohesion, generating sense of belonging, and stimulating action. However, precisely how and to what extent notions of trust are mobilised into a will to act in times of crisis remains somewhat unclear.
According to one Norwegian researcher, total defence is about “protecting the civilian population and requisite Norwegian values, and … preventing societal functions from collapsing” (Morsut, 2021, pp. 69-70). However, while defending societal values is significant for fostering a will to act (whether to defend or, e.g., to engage in preparedness activities), such efforts could become nationalistic in a way that promotes an “us v. them” narrative, even within a single nation. This was not raised in the case studies but in the academic literature. For example, in her research of pandemic experiences in Norway, Gross (2023) sheds light on how the Norwegian state reproduced a “national myth” about Norwegian identity that vilified some residents who, for various reasons, lacked capacity to respond to the crisis in a socially acceptable, “Norwegian” way. It is thus important for policymakers to consider how values can be shared among national inhabitants while also recognising the complexity of maintaining such values and preventing such values from becoming part of a national myth that leads to exclusionary or discriminatory practices, ethnocentricity, or other harmful practices.
Consistency and place identity carry more weight than quick impact
As mentioned above, trust and engaged communities only build over time. For this reason, several interviewees across the different cases pointed out that consistent, continuous, and predictable action is important for developing and maintaining resilience—even if that constitutes small action, such as a weekly meeting at the same time and place. This may be another reason why several interviewees pointed to the value of libraries as a consistent presence in Nordic democracy. While libraries matter as trusted institutions, the building itself also offers a safe, transparent, and neutral meeting space, a fact that becomes especially important when interacting with children or vulnerable social groups in the Finnish case. In the Norwegian case, we gain an example of a library that more firmly established itself as an information point where people can turn to for reliable details, thus expanding its role from a physical place to a metaphysical one. Swedish experts also mentioned the role of physical meeting spaces such as churches as important for enabling communities to congregate to discuss plans and organise among different actors. The physical place of a town and its community spaces are also highlighted in the Icelandic case, soberly illustrated when individuals were required to abandon their homes and evacuate. The desires expressed by evacuees to return to Grindavík and buy back their homes further exemplifies the significance of place as an anchor for community identity.
Spontaneous events and gatherings organised via social media, however, can also be valuable for assembling actors that have not taken part in more traditional platforms of community action. Nevertheless, many experienced community activists fear that resilience work is increasingly organised—and, notably, funded—via short-term projects which often fail to address structural problems or build relations based on trust. Therefore, regularity and transparency (e.g., when it comes to meeting agendas) remain core elements for enabling psychological resilience.
National priorities may neglect more quiet crises and efforts observed by local actors
As in many other fields, the expectations for achievements at the local level and the resources budgeted for these tasks are not well-aligned when it comes to psychological resilience efforts. This is especially true when it comes to the role played by arts and cultural centres in relation to comprehensive security thinking, which interviewees state is often acknowledged in official strategies but less so in budget decisions. This sentiment was especially vocalised in the Finnish case yet also mimicked in the Norwegian one, which contemplated a lack of recognition of the everyday goings-on in public spaces such as artistic expression and communal cultural activities like reading groups. While these factors are key elements of building civic identity, mutual trust, and social cohesion, several interviewees perceived the main national focus to be on visible efforts for resilience such as military capacity and material infrastructure. Financial resources are also needed to maintain and continue existing work, not only begin resilience initiatives.
People engaged with resilience work in the Nordic communities, such as those interviewed for this report, take note of these disconnects between the local/regional and national levels. This is especially visible when national-level politicians and other decision-makers pay lip service to art and culture, or to social dimensions of resilience, but reduce or cut the funding that supports it.
Including a wider variety of smaller, less established actors could be one way to begin healing this disconnect. Some communities and civil society organisations beyond, e.g., the Red Cross, can also take up responsibilities within resilience work (e.g., library personnel, individuals creating their own volunteer roles, citizens associations, faith communities, neighbourhood groups, etc.). Notably, collaboration with these types of actors should happen in a longer time span than that of a singular project. On the other hand, in Denmark, the role of civil society organisations like the Red Cross, along with their in-place structures for organising volunteers, plays a significant role in the wake of limited national guidelines and structures around preparedness, and in translating the communication around these into a more approachable language. In addition, communities affected by an acute crisis (such as in Iceland) or another kind of deep transition also experience a disconnect between their needs and decision-making tables. Interviewees noted the essential work of enabling actors to have agency over their own crisis (including the planning the recovery process). Furthermore, crisis recovery can have a very broad effect, impacting neighbouring municipalities and regions, as experienced by the neighbouring municipalities hosting Grindavík evacuees.
Resilience becomes a burden if it loses its dimension of recovery
Most of the experts interviewed were aware of the heightened importance of psychological resilience or preparedness (in their own national terminology) and acknowledged how their work relates. However, finding oneself at the epicentre of the national resilience discourse can quickly prove to be burden, as the residents of Grindavík experienced. While resilience is often a desirable trait for a country or a community (like in the case of Stark Socken), at an individual level, being labelled as “resilient” during the aftermath of a crisis can be viewed as a form of oppressive praise, meaning that it may reinforce a belief that people going through a traumatic event do not need any additional support. The term becomes especially loaded in a situation where provided psychological and social care is viewed as insufficient or too linear compared to the often blurry and non-linear nature of crisis recovery. And while some literature indicates that “higher trust in government and denser personal networks predict better and faster recovery,” crises involve personal and often sustained trauma that complicates this general description, as illustrated in the case of Iceland.
At the other end of the spectrum, the Danish case study notes the difficulty of making resilience work important to people in a concrete sense in a situation where the relative safety of the country and lack of local experience with crisis situations compared to, for example, Iceland’s experience with natural disasters, Finland’s need to consider domestic implications to Russia’s continued aggressive actions, or even Sweden’s and Norway’s experiences of more recent terrorist attacks.
Lastly, overfocus on the crisis preparedness part of (psychological) resilience can lead public actors to neglect the importance of recovery, joy, and celebration. If the goal is to build long-term resilience efforts, public actors should not expect people to remain in a constant state of crisis thinking—firstly because momentum among individuals naturally fades with other life concerns during times outside of immediate crisis, and secondly because it is burdensome for the human psyche to consider potential crises as the status quo. As such, this discourse poses challenges for trying to infuse psychological resilience as a key aim of community-based activities, but may emphasise instead the importance of psychological resilience as an organic byproduct of such activities.