energy plants and paper pulp. Finland is the most forested country in
Europe, with trees covering 74 percent of the land. As one visiting
British journalist noted, “the view was a bit samey.” The forests are
mostly privately owned in small holdings, but, mirabile dictu, at least
to an American mindset, there is virtually no such thing as
trespassing. Finnish law operates under the concept of
jokamiehenoikeus, or “everyman’s right,” which means anyone can
traipse over anyone else’s land, picking berries, picking mushrooms,
picking their nose, whatever. They can even camp and make
campfires. They only things they can’t do are cut timber or hunt
game. (Right-to-roam laws in a few other aggressively democratic
European countries such as Denmark, Norway and Scotland are
similar but not quite as lenient.)
To many Americans, this sounds like a socialist takeover of
private property (contrast these laws to the “my castle” laws in states
like Montana, where you actually have the protected right to shoot
trespassers dead). To the Finnish, though, jokamiehenoikeus is the
essence of freedom, because it means you can walk forever. In a small
country where everyone is distantly related, the please-share-nicely
concept works.
It makes sense, then, that the Finnish are uniquely devoted to their
forests, and are coughing up cash to study them if for no other reason
than to justify their constitutionally protected frolicking. Although
they do have other motivations, and some of them we can relate to:
the Finns report increasing levels of stress, depression and obesity as
they move into urban environments. That national recreation survey
that mentioned long-distance ice-skating also noted that, in almost all
categories, frequency of outdoor activities has dropped in the last ten
years, no doubt replaced by staring at brightly lit devices inside their
houses. Even the Finns can’t resist them.
The country has some choices to make. If time in forests can be
shown to reduce health-care costs, improve mental health and