Going green: Finland’s eco-friendly attitude

Cafe Kariranta sits on the southern bank of Lake Vesijärvi, a vast swathe of fresh water flanked by conifers, campsites and picturesque wooden houses. A former train station, this quaint and cosy coffee shop wears its history proudly. Visitors step over original iron tracks to enter, and sip hot chocolate while soaking up the tranquil vista from its porch. Today, it’s an idyllic spot in the city of Lahti, lying alongside a small harbour and the iconic concert venue, Sibelius Hall. But it didn’t always look like this.

In the 1970s, the 110sqkm Lake Vesijärvi was the most polluted in the country (a feat, considering there are more than 187,000 lakes in Finland) and anything but ideal for indulging in the popular pastime of taking an icy dip. Limnologist Juha Keto campaigned successfully in 1976 to have wastewater treated at a plant before heading to the lake. By 1987, the Vesijärvi I project began in earnest and saw the extraction of so-called ‘trash fish’, with more than a million kilos of roach being removed and replaced with roach-eating pike-perch. Stormwater solutions and selective fishing have since helped, creating a lake that is not only clean, bursting with aquatic life and safe for humans to swim in, but a destination in the city and a tale residents are proud to share.

Lake Vesijärvi’s story aligns with the city it borders. In 2021, Lahti (approximately 100km north of Helsinki) was awarded the European Green Capital Award and garnered global attention. A small urban hub bordered by the lake to the north and a forest full of cross-country ski routes on all other sides, it has been described by some of its 120,000 residents as like having “a city in the front yard and nature in the back yard”.

Lahti is now a zero-coal city, with plans to create a circular economy and move permanently away from carbon

Before 2021, Lahti was known primarily for its imposing ski jumps and as the host of numerous winter sports events. Now, the city – and by extension Finland – is firmly on the map of travellers, environmentalists and governments seeking inspiration for how to improve their own eco-credentials.

Winning the award was no small feat. Lahti was assessed by an international panel on topics including air quality, waste management, sustainable land use, green growth and climate change mitigation. It not only passed, but was said to have “increased citizen wellbeing and happiness” in the process. In 2021, 97 per cent of municipal waste and 99 per cent of household waste in Lahti was reused or recycled. A bioenergy plant heats the city with recycled fuel and local, certified wood, while energy efficiency devices on buildings have saved around $1m in city-owned premises since 2011. It’s now a zero-coal city, with plans to create a circular economy and move permanently away from carbon.

On the ground, the people of Lahti seem invested in the change. Tucked inside the Lahti Museum of Visual Arts, Ant Brew microbrewery produces an eight-beer brand called Wasted Potential that utilises natural materials such as mushrooms, roasted dandelions and, in one instance, smoked goose droppings (in a draft called ‘Goose Bumps’). Co-founder Kari Puttonen isn’t interested in expanding. He’s “here for the locals” and aims to keep it that way.

Lahti isn’t an anomaly. It’s an example of a pervasive attitude in a country that seems to have an ingrained sense of community, and communal responsibility. Buying second-hand clothes, foraging for food, growing produce or buying dearer, more durable items rather than the cheapest option appear to be common Finnish traits.

This collaborative nature of Finland’s people extends beyond rural and small urban areas. The country’s capital, Helsinki, lies on the Baltic coast an hour’s lake and tree-lined train ride south of Lahti and is a thrumming metropolis by comparison. Oft overlooked as a stopover either for flights between Western Europe and Asia or (historically) cruises between Stockholm and Saint Petersburg, it’s an underrated destination, which, in an era of eco-conscious travel, is surprising, given its green credentials.

In January 2022, the Helsinki government announced it would stop serving meat at most staff events in order to reduce its carbon footprint, instead prioritising vegetarian or sustainably-sourced fish meals. The mayor also adjusted Helsinki’s carbon-neutral goals, bringing the deadline forward to 2030, and revealed a desire for it to be an “attractive city for people and companies that work for the benefit of the world. Helsinki is a city where good things are done.”

The country seems to have an ingrained sense of community, and communal responsibility

Efforts have already been made to reduce the need for cars. On top of an effective bus and tram system, apps such as Whim offer easy-to-access transport options across cities in Europe (and Tokyo), making it a one-stop shop for renting e-scooters or city bikes, buying tickets for public transport and accessing car shares and rentals. Single-use purchases are discouraged thanks to comprehensive centres such as Oodi, a free to enter, 2018-built mega-library stocked with gaming consoles, a music recording studio, 3D printing and gardening and DIY tools for loan – as well as plenty of books.

In the retail space, second-hand clothes stores abound, yet can be easy to miss as they’re often presented to a high-street standard. One particularly interesting eco-outlet lies in an old, underground garage in the city centre. Pure Waste, a recycled clothing company set up in 2015 by Hannes Bengs, makes unisex clothes out of furniture fabric offcuts. The fabric is processed into fibre, blended with recycled polyester, then knitted into yarns. It’s never dyed, so colours are ‘as they come’, and once customers are finished with their garments, Pure Waste takes them back, recycles the material and creates ‘new’ clothes for sale. A notable quirk is the product hang-tags, which ask customers if they really need to buy that item. As in Lahti, the focus is local, not national.

A short walk along Helsinki’s well-kept, peaceful streets, from Pure Waste is the aptly named Nolla (meaning ‘zero’ in Finnish), Europe’s first zero-waste restaurant. It was set up in 2018 by three chefs from Spain, Portugal and Serbia who were dismayed by the amount of waste restaurants produce. Nolla’s eco-efforts are extensive and include: manufacturing furniture from left over walnut wood, sanding table corners smooth to extend their lives to 50-60 years (corner wear and tear is the primary reason tables are discarded), exhibiting and selling local artists’ work, repurposing used bottles as glasses and using second-hand cutlery. Without even taking into account the management of food production and waste itself, Nolla is already far ahead of many other restaurants by industry standards.

And the customer experience is enhanced because of it. Service is impeccable, presentation and décor stylish and the dishes positively heavenly. The menu of locally sourced ingredients changes every three to four weeks. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to savour the cep gnocchi with mushroom ketchup, or duck with caraway and orange sauce. Behind the scenes, leftover bones are ground for stock and beer grain used as breadcrumbs in desserts. Anything not immediately repurposable is composted for fertiliser, which is then sent to farmers supplying the restaurant – delivered by an electric vehicle, of course. The plan is to produce no more than 5kg of food waste each day – a staggering 65kg less than the average restaurant. Nolla’s gift cards are a particularly nice touch. Made from recycled paper embedded with poppy seeds, once they’re used, their recipients can plant them.

Are zero-waste restaurants, furniture fabric clothes and efficient recycling options why Finns are among the happiest people in the world? Probably not. It’s likely more to do with the high ownership of rural summer houses, good childcare infrastructure and the ability to find options for most dietary restrictions even in a remote Viking restaurant. Plus a lot more besides. They’re clearly doing something right and, fortunately for the rest of us, helping the planet at the same time. But thanks to the Finns’ notorious modesty and disinclination for small talk, the only way to really appreciate their efforts, and unique, considered culture, is to visit their beloved country yourself.