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PART III.

Findings

Images: Dorota Trzaska/Unsplash (left), Pim de Boer/Unsplash (right)
Image: Pim de Boer/Unsplash
This section synthesises the reviews of literature and policy alongside learnings of the case studies. The findings are organised across six key topics: (1) concepts related to psychological resilience at local and regional levels, (2) self-determination as a success factor, (3) building and nurturing trust, (4) consistency and place-based activities, (5) local-national disconnects, and (6) experiences within the current resilience discussion.

Nordic countries use different concepts but maintain similar approaches

As suggested by the multitude of terms under the framework for Nordic resilience (Figure 1), the concept of psychological resilience is but one term, far from encompassing all Nordic approaches to resilience thinking. Therefore, it is not surprising that this specific language is not used consistently among the local and regional level actors interviewed outside of Finland. However, regional and local actors in each Nordic country were able to identify with the definition we extracted from the Finnish security strategy and relate this approach to their work. The research confirms that all Nordic countries work with psychological resilience in ways that are context-specific yet implicitly aligned. Whether or not the different countries have a term that encompasses the development of these social and cultural components during everyday circumstances—or a term that describes how these social and cultural ideas motivate and support crisis preparedness, response, and recovery—communities throughout the Nordics exemplify psychological resilience in various sites, activities, and organisations.
Similar concepts in use by Nordic actors include terms related to preparedness, cohesion, recovery, and defence. In Denmark as well as Iceland, the Red Cross puts an emphasis on psychosocial preparedness and recovery, while social cohesion (sammenhængskraft) can be found under Denmark’s national preparedness work. However, the concept of psychosocial support in the Grindavík crisis has greater emphasis on individual mental health than on the community-based capacity to build values of trust. Some local experts, however, had heard of psychological resilience and used this term in their work, but in various ways.
Norway has two main concepts closely related to the Finnish concept—self-preparedness (egenberedskap) and civil resilience (sivil motstandskraft)—with libraries as one institution instrumental in supporting the latter. Psychological resilience (psykologisk motsandskraft) is circulating in Norway, but not in an institutionalised or formally defined form. Finally, Sweden puts an emphasis on several concepts in its national policy, including capacity to withstand (motståndskraft), preparedness (beredskap), and psychological defence (psykologiskt försvar), focusing on individuals’ capacity to sort out misinformation.
The line between the two major terms related to handling crises at the moment—resilience and preparedness—is as blurry in practice as in official documentation. As several Nordic countries are discussing their simultaneous crisis responses while also re-evaluating their long-term security strategies, it seems likely that these concepts will continue to broaden rather than narrow in the future. And while psychological resilience may be applied in a general sense, one of its contributions may be in the unique emphasis it places on a community’s shared values, identity, and levels of trust.

Self-determination equips for success but comes with a price

The case studies revealed that local level actors often need to navigate between self-determination and external (often national) guidance. This emerges in different ways across the cases. In Denmark, interviewees expressed the potential need for more organised resilience structures from the national level to guide future work, whereas in Iceland, the acute crisis of a natural disaster has meant that new actors emerge (such as the local citizens’ association) in order to navigate prolonged trauma and organise evacuees in a way that only local individuals can achieve. In the cases of Sweden, Norway, and Finland, local actors approached regional or national actors with a sense of responsibility to contribute to preparedness efforts (as in the Tønsberg and Færder library case and the Stark Socken initiative in Gotland) or to build new safety nets (as was the case in Finland).
These findings echo the academic literature—for example, the findings from Carlsson and Engström (2025) describing how the library sector in Sweden expressed a willingness to take on more responsibility within crisis preparedness. The combination of ambition and limitation of local and regional actors to take up such responsibilities is also found in the literature, though with more critique related to the redistribution of responsibilities among individuals, and less attention towards either the benefits or challenges this presents for individuals within established associations, civil society organisations, or local public institutions (Larsson, 2021; Hyvönen & Juntunen, 2021; Gross, 2023).  
Largely self-organising actors and communities could benefit from higher-level support especially when resources are limited and when it comes to coordinating and collaborating among organisations to reduce redundancy. Some case studies, such as in the Grindavík case and the Danish civil society case, also called for better coordination across ministries and stronger national planning, potentially involving national-level resilience structures. Combinations of strategic national guidelines alongside local organisations could help combine the best of both worlds, including stronger links across these levels. More effective long-term coordination could help support actions such as funding, facilitation, and communication.
While self-determination has proven to be a major enabling factor for various kinds of community action, it also comes with certain constraints which may underscore the need for a more dynamic relationship across governance levels and sectors. For example, people working with libraries in both Finland and Norway remarked that these institutions could take on greater responsibility in crisis preparedness or social cohesion-related work, as they already achieve some aspects of this in their routine activities. A similar observation emerges from the local chapters of civil society organisations such as the Red Cross in Denmark, where networks and structures for coordinating volunteers are already in place. In addition to constraints faced by local level actors (i.e., limited capacity and resources, or no clear mandate to act), recurring risks also include overambition by community members to achieve more than is realistically feasible (as noted in the Swedish case). This also highlights the importance of having skilled facilitators or coordinators who help frame preparedness efforts, fostering community engagement while setting realistic ambitions in relation to resources.
While the lack of a formal mandate to prepare for and respond to crises enables flexibility, it can also contribute to unclear and uneven responsibilities, as not every organisation, community, or individual engages with preparedness efforts to the same degree. While it is impossible to develop the appropriate trust and motivation if it is forced from above, relying solely on voluntary participation leads to uneven engagement. This raises a concern not only for the sake of contribution but also for ensuring that those who do not engage or contribute are not overlooked or excluded from crisis recovery. Such challenges point to the continued need for coordination and support across all levels of government.
According to the case studies, the greatest success in this area tends to emerge out of cross-collaboration among various organisations at different levels and scales—though, precisely which organisations are included may depend on the existing social and cultural dynamics of the local context. This point is also supported in the literature related to regional resilience, where researchers suggest that “a region’s ability to respond effectively during crisis depends on the capacity of local institutions to establish network governance for the region and the willingness of organisations and individuals to collaborate within and beyond their own expertise and regions” (Keinänen et al., 2025).
When it comes to fostering local identity and fortifying social cohesion during prolonged stress, self-determination (actions developed by and for local inhabitants themselves) is key. The Finnish case highlights how community-led art activities provide a mirror for reflecting humanity, expressing individual and community identity, building trust, connecting with others, expressing uncertainty and confusion, and amplifying unheard voices. The genuine connection between community-led resilience action and the people tapping into them proves, however, that even seemingly mundane or ordinary efforts may evoke strong emotions related to local identity, such as in the case of maintaining the Grindavík basketball team for evacuees to rally around. Some cases exemplify the possibility to build resilience on the basis of pre-existing place-based divisions, such as in Sweden, where Gotland’s parishes take on a new role as neighbourhood-based preparedness units. The trusted position of the Norwegian library branch or the ability of the Helsinki suburb in Finland to draw upon its complex identity (and historical reputation) also emphasise this. Here, it appears that communities at a more intimate scale than the municipality are especially well-suited for resilience practices.

Genuine connection is essential for building trust

Trust was a central theme in the case study interviews. While it is often described as essential to Nordic social conduct, it remains somewhat abstract and unquantifiable. However, the case studies illuminate the multifaceted nature of trust and what it means as part of psychological resilience. For example, the Icelandic case illustrates how a citizen-level sense of security is heavily based on trust in institutions such as authorities, risk assessments, and response systems. On the other hand, the Danish case challenges this recipe to success by pointing out that trust can also lead to an over-reliance on national actors to support citizens during a crisis. This may lead to a situation where needs that lie beyond national capacity or knowledge—and must be secured at the local, community, or even individual level—fall between the cracks. To combat this, identifying potential pathways for shared responsibility is key.
Some of the interviewees representing public institutions inherently enjoy a trusted reputation in their communities. This is exemplified with the libraries in the Finnish and Norwegian cases, which are generally viewed as politically, commercially, and religiously neutral spaces. However, their position as such is not an immutable fact. As noted in the Norwegian case, if such institutions align themselves with national preparedness messaging, they risk becoming more political as vehicles for specific messaging over others, putting their neutral and safe reputation at risk. Civil society organisations could face a similar risk, as described by the Red Cross in Denmark. Interviewees from the organisation expressed a desire for better coordination and guidelines from national actors, while also acknowledging the need to remain independent and apolitical to remain trusted community actors. This is also the case with the civil society organisations that are involved in the Swedish Stark Socken initiative, including the Red Cross but also faith-based organisations like local churches and other civil society organisations.  
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.