That things are going badly in Estonia is something one hears more and more often these days in conversations with people, and fewer and fewer believe that anything will change for the better. Interestingly enough, this is something you now hear not only among lecturers and intellectuals.

From time to time, a politician or another public figure will speak up and say that we must not think this way. Because 34 years ago, when Estonia regained independence, things were even worse. Yes, they were, but then they got better. People thought together, came together, supported each other. There was freedom and plenty of confusion, but the feeling was good and faith in a better tomorrow carried life forward. But when that faith is gone...

Another common argument is: "What increase in poverty in Estonia? Look at Sudan, where people sleep under the open sky — now that is real poverty." Poverty is indeed a relative concept, but I do not believe anyone in Estonia would want to sink to Sudan's supposed level of poverty and then hope that now would finally be the right time for the government to start addressing the economy and people's well-being.

When one's society is no longer one's own

Easy for me to say, since I look on from a distance and occasionally add my voice. When needed, I offer advice, and then I follow events closely again — because I care. I could, of course, think only of my own salary, say the kinds of things that align with the ideology prevailing in Estonia's power circles and hope to be rewarded for it. But that is not possible, because the risk is losing oneself.

So why is it that people no longer believe things will get better? Why is Estonian-origin capital leaving Estonia, even to Latvia, which most Estonians would consider a step behind in nearly every ranking? Some banking figures have privately pointed to a number that is shockingly large: more than €2 billion of Estonian-origin money leaves the country every year. Why are the major investments that are so badly needed not coming?

Why do more and more people not feel part of Estonian society? According to the 2023 Estonian Integration Monitoring, 11 percent of ethnic Estonians and 25 percent of non-Estonians say they do not feel like members of Estonian society.

Two ideas come up again and again in these conversations and could be summed up like this: there is no trust and people do not take care of their own. These two phrases capture everything that has gone wrong in recent years and what has, in effect, created two Estonias that are drifting further and further apart.

Inclusion without involvement

Looking at the sheer number of nudgeathons, opinion journeys, citizens' assemblies and other participatory initiatives in Estonia, the situation ought to be the opposite of what it is. There should be a shared understanding of what is best for all of Estonia and, therefore, cooperation that moves toward a common goal. So why do these not work and why do they not generate trust? Why are people dissatisfied with draft laws and development plans that are supposedly created on the basis of such discussions?

Take, for example, the climate law. It was said to involve the largest public participation process ever carried out in Estonia, supported by opinion journeys, yet according to reports on the new draft that has reached the media, it appears to be largely the same as the previously rejected version — only shorter. On top of that, the Government Office is about to launch a citizens' assembly promising to explore "people's universal basic needs and how society functions in meeting those needs, as well as the turning points necessary for a sustainable future for the world and Estonia in five areas: poverty, inequality, equality, food security, energy transition (Earth4All)." Why does the government not know how its own society functions?

Mutual trust crisis

That means there are people who feel they have not been listened to or taken into account, or who feel deceived after voting for politicians. And when this repeats itself, the trust that has been built up over many years quickly disappears. Winning it back is a very difficult and lengthy process, though not impossible.

The loss of trust shows, in turn, that the ability to cooperate meaningfully and find solutions is gone. There is only the opinion of ideology-driven state officials and party leadership, and then there is the wrong opinion. And anyone who dares to think differently or present opposing facts is either seen as foolish or simply canceled without any valid reason.

I myself have lived in another country like that, as have people older than me, and back then there was nothing to do but stay silent and swallow injustice or bureaucratic stupidity, as most people did at the time. But in today's democratic system, when there is no trust or confidence in the future — even the near future — it is better not to invest and instead take one's money elsewhere.

Of course, there are also Estonian civil servants who rely not on ideology but on facts, yet many of them tend to keep a low profile. They do not want to risk losing good relationships or their jobs, because loans must be paid and families fed. The word civil servant itself suggests the essence of what the work of an official should broadly be: to serve the state, meaning the people.

That officials do not trust the people was made clear in the recent scandals over license plate recognition cameras and bank account data. In the latter case, an apology should be made to everyone whose banking information was accessed without legal grounds; the banks know exactly whose data were viewed.

The government's distrust of retailers shows the same lack of confidence. Officials claim that lowering the value-added tax on food would not actually reduce food prices and that retailers would simply profit instead.

I have lived for a long time in a capitalist country — England, part of the United Kingdom — where the VAT on basic foodstuffs is 0 percent. And while prices here have also risen lately, mainly due to Brexit and increases in energy and raw material costs, they are still much lower overall than in Estonia. Here, the system simply helps poorer families cope, which in turn reduces the amount of money needed for social assistance. Yes, it may be hard to believe, but there is poverty here as well.

In Estonia, no proposal has been made to reduce VAT on food to zero. Thus, there is hope that with lower prices, sales volumes would grow and tax revenues would also increase, partially offsetting the decline in VAT intake caused by the lower rate. Those with higher incomes would spend the money saved on food on other goods, which would also generate VAT revenue and further stimulate the economy beyond agriculture.

A recent Eurobarometer survey asked people's views on climate change and efforts to address it. Many in Estonia believe the government is doing too much to mitigate climate change, do not support achieving climate neutrality and associate climate issues mainly with sorting trash. This also highlights the lack of trust in government — and with good reason, if one thinks of the offshore wind farm scandal, when people were not told the truth, and of the attitude that "we know better what's good for you."

People are told they must support the government's plans, but what they actually see are price hikes, and they do not understand how any of this is supposed to benefit them. If participation were genuine and substantive — where people listened to and considered one another and made decisions together — the picture would likely be very different. In the current situation, for many, the simplest way to stay mentally healthy is to deny the problem altogether. And all of this could have been foreseen.

Who defends the Estonian people?

In addition to the mutual distrust, many feel that people do not look out for their own. Estonia's interests are not defended strongly enough in Brussels and everything proposed there is accepted in full — or even by going above and beyond — often leaving Estonia with obligations that in reality should be shouldered by other EU countries, many of which are wealthier than Estonia. This attitude is reminiscent of the Soviet Union, when people bowed toward Moscow.

Nor is help given to Estonians when, for example, it is discovered that an endangered species might be present on their land — whether someone claims to have heard an eagle owl calling or a hobby butterfly collector saw a third-category protected moth more than ten years ago. Instead, officials often overreact, offering no assistance in finding a solution within the law, nor compensating for damage done to private property. And so people feel that no one is looking out for them, that they are being punished for something they did not do, and therefore that they are not truly part of society.

All of this points to an unwillingness — or an inability — to work together, a loss of empathy and thus a failure to take care of one another.

Two thoughts voiced by President Alar Karis at this year's Song Festival have stayed with me. First, that Estonians cannot stop looking out for each other once the Song Festival is over. And second, that the state, too, could think more collectively. Both are essential if Estonia is to endure as a nation.

There is still a chance... A chance to focus on Estonia. And if trust can be restored and people once again take care of their own, then Estonians will want to, will be able to and will have the strength to contribute more worthily to the wider world as well.

--

Follow ERR News on Facebook and X and never miss an update!