World

The transformative vision of the Nordic folk high school

Robust social democracy in the Nordic countries owes a lot to its exam-free “schools for life”

October 12, 2021
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The Grundtvig Folk High School in Denmark. Image: Courtesy OSU Special Collections & Archives

What makes Nordic social democracy so robust? Answers span a wide range, from left-leaning governments and social security to cooler climates. Less considered, however, is its alternative education system. Nordic folk high schools are thought to underscore democracy by promoting intellectual openness, diversity and active citizenship.

There are around 450 of these folk high schools across the Nordic countries, attended by hundreds of thousands of people each year. These are boarding schools, but not as we know them in the UK—they are radical, exam-free “schools for life” without state-dictated curricula.

Unlike in the UK, where alternative education is maligned, folk high schools are part of Nordic pedagogical bread and butter. Many have a political focus, while others are Christian schools or specialise in the arts or sports. Most follow communalist principles of living, cooking and cleaning together. However, they all share an ideal: cultural education for the progress of self and society in tandem. There is no direct British equivalent; folk high school is open to anyone aged 18 and above and is most commonly attended by young people as a form of gap year, supplementing mandatory education.

Alumni often follow the intellectual tradition of their institution in their future work. Take one school with a human rights focus, the International People’s College (IPC) in Helsingør, Denmark. Its alumni include anti-fascist rebels in the Spanish Civil War, members of the Danish resistance in the Second World War, anti-racist activists on the first bus of Freedom Riders in the US, and anti-colonial activists like Jomo Kenyatta, who went on to become the first president of Kenya.

The link between folk high schools and democracy has been explicit since their foundation. The first schools were established in Denmark in the 1840s in the spirit of democratising the peasants, conjoining physical work with liberal values.

The Danish schools are underpinned by the philosophy of Nikolaj Grundtvig, a pastor and author who believed in the intellectual strength of the common people. At the core of Grundtvig’s doctrine was a belief in romantic enlightenment through creative and intellectual freedom, particularly for farmers who had limited access to formal education. This form of schooling seemed indispensable in an era when Denmark was at war with Prussia. National consciousness and strong communities were seen as important social defences against a belligerent neighbour.

Modern Danish folk high schools have dropped the intellectual baggage of nationalistic moral awakening, but the emphasis on lifelong learning and active citizenship remains.

 “Folk high schools are a much freer part of the education system,” says Kristof Kristiansen, a former principal of IPC. The institution is unique amongst Danish folk high schools for its global diversity—each term houses roughly 100 students from around 40 countries—although folk high schools in general draw people together from all walks of life.

IPC celebrated its centenary on the 1st October this year. The school’s classes range from theoretical lessons, such as peace and conflict studies and green activism, to creative ones like moviemaking and choir, to more practical studies like development management, which has spawned projects around the world led by former students. 

A Nordic gap year can look radically different to the British, then. Many opt for these communal schools and spend time exploring the outdoors or in political theory classes, or learning skills like crime writing, boat building, organic farming or traditional Viking craft.

The curricula differ across schools and countries, says Henrik Nordvall, professor of Adult Education Research at Linköping University. “In Sweden and Finland there is more of a connection to the formal academic system. You could go to folk high school as an alternative to upper secondary education, or you can go there just to cultivate a specific interest. In Norway and Denmark, they have a much stronger link to the Grundtvigian tradition and are more pedagogically contrasted to the formal system.”

In Sweden, folk high schools are sometimes described as “infrastructure” for civil society at large. According to a recent study, Swedish folk high school attendees participate more in civil society than the rest of the population. One-hundred and twelve of the 154 folk high schools are directly run by social movements, such as the workers’, women’s, or environmental movements. This gives them a distinct political and intellectual direction, as well as acting as arenas to develop new activists and members. The Swedish state funds folk high schools to the tune of two billion kronor (about £168m) each year, with the proviso that they “support activities that contribute to strengthening and developing democracy.”

This holistic kind of education also doubles up as social work in many cases. According to professor Andreas Fejes, also of Linköping University, “folk high schools use a different kind of teaching practice, one that has a more collective basis for learning as a group, compared to the formal system that is highly individualised.” A study on migration and social inclusion found that adult education initiatives in Sweden, including folk high schools, provided critical social support for migrants.

“They can also be a second chance for people that have been marginalised or failing in the formal school system,” says Nordvall, speaking of Swedes who opt for folk high instead of sixth form. “They get a new opportunity to be active not just in working life but in society in general—they get the tools to influence society.”

Educational choices in Britain feel more pressing than ever. The mismanagement of GCSE and A-level grading during the pandemic, as well as the marketisation of university and widespread struggles in young people’s mental health, have led many to question the value of higher education. Folk high schools offer some answers. They would satisfy those who believe Britain is lacking in practical skills that traditional universities do not teach, or that learning and “reskilling” should be available at any time of life. As they do in the Nordic states, these schools could complement university, offering intellectual and self-exploration before more traditional study continues.

Rather than entirely supplanting formal education, folk high schools act as a buffer between traditional school and the world, allowing people to study broadly and creatively without exams. This model for learning provides a partial answer to the Nordic countries’ social democracies—where young people are taught about themselves, the world and one another in common.