What we can learn from Norway’s feminist success

Why professional mothers can have it all.

When the speeding fine for 6,500 kroner (£650) dropped on to the doormat last Thursday, I did not immediately reflect on Stavanger's enviable record on road safety.

But as I discussed the fine with Norwegian friends and the explosion of incredulity I had expected at the harshness of the punishment never materialised, I took pause to reflect on the question they were all asking instead: "Why on earth do you imagine it was OK to break the speed limit in the first place?"

That conundrum is at the root of Norway's ability to achieve socially desirable outcomes, and its determination to pursue social-democratic goals – not least, gender equality.

Norwegians are proud of their country and its reputation. Most would agree that it is desirable to have a gender balance in business and politics; the idea of losing vast numbers of talented women from the workforce just because they become pregnant is anathema. But that social cohesion is underpinned by the government's willingness to legislate robustly against those who do not instinctively share the majority's goals.

The result is that the country has just topped Save the Children's Mother's Index for the second year in a row. The UK failed to beat Norway on any one of the 11 criteria that comprise the index. But it is the factors that make up female economic, and political, status which prove particularly instructive about why it is so much easier to be a professional and a mother in Norway.

Quotable quotas

Tellingly, Norway's women earn, on average, 77 per cent as much as men (the highest ratio in the world), and represent 40 per cent of the legislature. In both cases, the government, or individual political parties, have intervened with quotas to help guarantee these figures.

Britain has toyed with the idea of imposing quotas for women in business and parliament – most recently in February, when Mervyn Davies, in his report for the government, rejected boardroom quotas in favour of voluntary targets. A similar approach was attempted in Norway at the end of the 20th century. But, by 2003, when it had become clear that listed firms were failing to promote enough women, the government legislated instead.

The quota is 40 per cent. Boardrooms are now 42 per cent female. Mimi Berdal, a self-confessed beneficiary of the legislation, and perhaps Norway's most prominent female businesswoman, with a CV boasting 90 board directorships, believes that within five years the quota will have become unnecessary. It is a classic example of top-down policy shaping social mores.

The latest example is a tweaking of the maternity and paternity laws which will increase entitlement, while also forcing fathers to take on more of the childrearing obligations. At the moment, the government covers 100 per cent of salary for 46 weeks, or 80 per cent for 56 weeks. Of that time, nine weeks are reserved for mothers and ten weeks for the father, with the rest of the time transferable between partners.

Carrot? Or stick?

The idea, says Kirsti Bergstø, the 31-year-old deputy minister for children, equality and social inclusion is to ensure that fathers have the option of contributing more to childrearing. As of 1 July, the government will intervene again to ensure they do: an extra week will be made available to parents. But the non-transferable paternity element will increase from ten to 12 weeks.

"They either use it or lose it," says Bergstø.

It is legitimate to argue that it is easier to effect such carrot-and-stick politics in an ethnically homogeneous country of just five million people than it would be in a complex polity more than ten times the size.

Yet Bergstø argues that other countries could learn from Norway's preparedness to legislate in pursuit of social democratic goals. Even a challenge as difficult as integrating asylum-seekers and encouraging female refugees into the Norwegian labour market is easily tackled with Norwegian-style compassionate-but-tough legislation, she says.

It starts with the obligations for new entrants to the country to take language classes. "Learning Norwegian is important for the women for integration," says Bergstø. "If they are going to join the labour market it is essential."

The corollary is that their children get free access to one of Norway's first-class state nurseries. Norwegian parents also have access to these nurseries, so professional mothers can avoid the expense of UK-style childcare.

And while those from Stavanger drive their children there in the morning, they might also reflect that there has been not a single death in an accident on the roads since 2008.

Mark Lewis is a freelance journalist based in Norway.

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The Brexit Beartraps, #2: Could dropping out of the open skies agreement cancel your holiday?

Flying to Europe is about to get a lot more difficult.

So what is it this time, eh? Brexit is going to wipe out every banana planet on the entire planet? Brexit will get the Last Night of the Proms cancelled? Brexit will bring about World War Three?

To be honest, I think we’re pretty well covered already on that last score, but no, this week it’s nothing so terrifying. It’s just that Brexit might get your holiday cancelled.

What are you blithering about now?

Well, only if you want to holiday in Europe, I suppose. If you’re going to Blackpool you’ll be fine. Or Pakistan, according to some people...

You’re making this up.

I’m honestly not, though we can’t entirely rule out the possibility somebody is. Last month Michael O’Leary, the Ryanair boss who attracts headlines the way certain other things attract flies, warned that, “There is a real prospect... that there are going to be no flights between the UK and Europe for a period of weeks, months beyond March 2019... We will be cancelling people’s holidays for summer of 2019.”

He’s just trying to block Brexit, the bloody saboteur.

Well, yes, he’s been quite explicit about that, and says we should just ignore the referendum result. Honestly, he’s so Remainiac he makes me look like Dan Hannan.

But he’s not wrong that there are issues: please fasten your seatbelt, and brace yourself for some turbulence.

Not so long ago, aviation was a very national sort of a business: many of the big airports were owned by nation states, and the airline industry was dominated by the state-backed national flag carriers (British Airways, Air France and so on). Since governments set airline regulations too, that meant those airlines were given all sorts of competitive advantages in their own country, and pretty much everyone faced barriers to entry in others. 

The EU changed all that. Since 1994, the European Single Aviation Market (ESAM) has allowed free movement of people and cargo; established common rules over safety, security, the environment and so on; and ensured fair competition between European airlines. It also means that an AOC – an Air Operator Certificate, the bit of paper an airline needs to fly – from any European country would be enough to operate in all of them. 

Do we really need all these acronyms?

No, alas, we need more of them. There’s also ECAA, the European Common Aviation Area – that’s the area ESAM covers; basically, ESAM is the aviation bit of the single market, and ECAA the aviation bit of the European Economic Area, or EEA. Then there’s ESAA, the European Aviation Safety Agency, which regulates, well, you can probably guess what it regulates to be honest.

All this may sound a bit dry-

It is.

-it is a bit dry, yes. But it’s also the thing that made it much easier to travel around Europe. It made the European aviation industry much more competitive, which is where the whole cheap flights thing came from.

In a speech last December, Andrew Haines, the boss of Britain’s Civil Aviation Authority said that, since 2000, the number of destinations served from UK airports has doubled; since 1993, fares have dropped by a third. Which is brilliant.

Brexit, though, means we’re probably going to have to pull out of these arrangements.

Stop talking Britain down.

Don’t tell me, tell Brexit secretary David Davis. To monitor and enforce all these international agreements, you need an international court system. That’s the European Court of Justice, which ministers have repeatedly made clear that we’re leaving.

So: last March, when Davis was asked by a select committee whether the open skies system would persist, he replied: “One would presume that would not apply to us” – although he promised he’d fight for a successor, which is very reassuring. 

We can always holiday elsewhere. 

Perhaps you can – O’Leary also claimed (I’m still not making this up) that a senior Brexit minister had told him that lost European airline traffic could be made up for through a bilateral agreement with Pakistan. Which seems a bit optimistic to me, but what do I know.

Intercontinental flights are still likely to be more difficult, though. Since 2007, flights between Europe and the US have operated under a separate open skies agreement, and leaving the EU means we’re we’re about to fall out of that, too.  

Surely we’ll just revert to whatever rules there were before.

Apparently not. Airlines for America – a trade body for... well, you can probably guess that, too – has pointed out that, if we do, there are no historic rules to fall back on: there’s no aviation equivalent of the WTO.

The claim that flights are going to just stop is definitely a worst case scenario: in practice, we can probably negotiate a bunch of new agreements. But we’re already negotiating a lot of other things, and we’re on a deadline, so we’re tight for time.

In fact, we’re really tight for time. Airlines for America has also argued that – because so many tickets are sold a year or more in advance – airlines really need a new deal in place by March 2018, if they’re to have faith they can keep flying. So it’s asking for aviation to be prioritised in negotiations.

The only problem is, we can’t negotiate anything else until the EU decides we’ve made enough progress on the divorce bill and the rights of EU nationals. And the clock’s ticking.

This is just remoaning. Brexit will set us free.

A little bit, maybe. CAA’s Haines has also said he believes “talk of significant retrenchment is very much over-stated, and Brexit offers potential opportunities in other areas”. Falling out of Europe means falling out of European ownership rules, so itcould bring foreign capital into the UK aviation industry (assuming anyone still wants to invest, of course). It would also mean more flexibility on “slot rules”, by which airports have to hand out landing times, and which are I gather a source of some contention at the moment.

But Haines also pointed out that the UK has been one of the most influential contributors to European aviation regulations: leaving the European system will mean we lose that influence. And let’s not forget that it was European law that gave passengers the right to redress when things go wrong: if you’ve ever had a refund after long delays, you’ve got the EU to thank.

So: the planes may not stop flying. But the UK will have less influence over the future of aviation; passengers might have fewer consumer rights; and while it’s not clear that Brexit will mean vastly fewer flights, it’s hard to see how it will mean more, so between that and the slide in sterling, prices are likely to rise, too.

It’s not that Brexit is inevitably going to mean disaster. It’s just that it’ll take a lot of effort for very little obvious reward. Which is becoming something of a theme.

Still, we’ll be free of those bureaucrats at the ECJ, won’t be?

This’ll be a great comfort when we’re all holidaying in Grimsby.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Brexit. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.