A visit to the People's Meeting

Following in the footsteps of ERS's Senior Director (blog available here), I had the opportunity to visit Denmark's democracy festival, Folkemødet, translated as the People's Meeting, this June. Myself and representatives from Perth and Kinross and Argyll and Bute Council swapped the Scottish summer rain for the sunshine of the Baltic island of Bornholm, where I got to see what attracts almost 65,000 people each year to a tiny fishing town for what has become one of Western Europe's most remarkable democratic gatherings.

The sheer scale and diversity of the programme is mind-boggling, if not slightly overwhelming. Eddie Barnes after his visit described it as "Glastonbury for geeks" (blog available here), but I found myself thinking more of the Edinburgh Festival, where every street corner, courtyard, tent or boat (!) seems to host a different conversation.

I arrived on Friday morning to find a famous actor leading hundreds of people in a group singing at 9am. When I left that evening, I had almost walked past a speech by the former NATO Secretary General because it was taking place in such an unassuming location. In almost any other setting, that would have been the headline event. At Folkemødet, it was simply one conversation among hundreds.

That abundance of activity has an interesting effect. It gently removes some of the pedestal on which we often place public figures. The festival does not magically eliminate power dynamics, but it does make politicians, journalists and other prominent voices feel more accessible.

While standing beside a stall, I asked the person next to me if they could translate the meaning of a sign. It turned out they were the island’s former mayor. During our conversation, he reflected that for him, in an era of misinformation, one of the festival’s greatest strengths is proximity: the ability for people to speak directly to one another rather than through layers of media, commentary or social platforms.

This year's programme also reflected Denmark's changing political landscape. Security and defence featured much more prominently than in previous years, demonstrating how Folkemødet both mirrors the national mood and helps shape it. There is a symbiotic relationship between the issues dominating public debate and the conversations that take place during the festival. It provides a unique forum where some of the defining questions of our time can be explored in public.

The strong presence of the general public, young people and civil society organisations is equally striking and has been nurtured over time. Alongside political parties, businesses and the media, they provide an important counterbalance and help ensure the space remains plural.

As highlighted in other blogs, the atmosphere itself also matters - a lot! Politics is interwoven with music, food, culture and social life. People are there to enjoy themselves, too.

What does this mean for Scotland?

Scotland has nothing quite comparable in its civic landscape. While we have festivals, conferences and consultations, we lack a single space that consistently brings together citizens, politicians, civil society, businesses, academics and the media on this scale.

Some lessons for a Scottish version stand out:

• Build strong local ownership and community involvement in the event.

• Invest in the participation of young people and civil society to ensure a diversity of voices.

• Create spaces that encourage meaningful dialogue.

• Blend culture with politics. Music, art, performance and community activities create a more welcoming environment and encourage people who might not otherwise be interested.

• The legitimacy of these spaces depends on achieving the right balance of participants and ensuring they are accessible to those who are often excluded from public debate.

There is no single solution to political disaffection. Its causes are complex, rooted in years of growing political and economic alienation. At the same time as political trust has declined across many democracies, associational life has also weakened, particularly in the UK, where participation in community organisations has fallen faster than in many comparable countries. 

Folkemødet is successful not simply because of the event itself, but because it builds upon that wider civic infrastructure. It reminds us that healthy democracies depend not only on strong institutions, but on strong communities.

Scotland can not, nor should it, simply recreate Denmark's People's Meeting. But it can take inspiration from its principles: bringing politics closer to people, creating spaces where disagreement is constructive rather than divisive, and making democratic participation feel like a shared enjoyable public experience.