Kadri Inselberg: Estonians doing well if we have an outlook

In many rural areas, life has been at a standstill for so long and so many homes have been abandoned that, unsurprisingly, people have lost their optimism about the future, writes Kadri Inselberg.
How do you make an Estonian understand that they're doing well, ERR opinion editor Kaupo Meiel asks with irony. I share the skepticism that state-level tax changes or one-off direct payments might make people feel more optimistic about the future. Temporary relief doesn't boost confidence in what's to come — what does is a stable job for yourself and your loved ones, a salary that at least keeps pace with inflation and a sense that there is development happening around you that you can be a part of.
As someone who works daily with communication and public sentiment, it seems increasingly clear to me that Estonia is currently facing a fairly deep-seated crisis of trust brought on by various overlapping crises.
According to a public opinion survey commissioned by the Government Office, two-thirds of respondents do not trust the Riigikogu or the government. Trust in many other state institutions is significantly higher; the main problem lies with political bodies. Still, this is a clear sign of public dissatisfaction.
If a person doesn't trust their country's leaders, why should they look to the future with optimism? If the ship's captain or the pilot doesn't inspire confidence, how can you trust that the journey will go well? Along with this comes general public skepticism toward national development plans, even though these are drawn up by subject-matter experts and researchers, because there is no trust that they'll actually be implemented or that the content itself is competent. The argument that "this is a national plan based on the best available knowledge" simply doesn't carry weight in Estonia.
We're seeing this play out in the countryside with Utilitas's attempts to develop wind farms. Local governments are autonomous in the planning process and rightly so — they must make the best decisions for their own regions. But the state's guidance that Estonia needs wind farms doesn't seem to resonate with anyone. People are more likely to believe the complaints of residents in a neighboring municipality about headaches and accusations against wind turbines than the conclusions of Health Board or university experts sent by the government who say that no direct health impacts from turbines have been scientifically proven anywhere in the world.
People also don't place much value on the direct financial benefit, the so-called wind turbine fee, which is paid annually for the entire operational lifespan of the wind farm to those living nearby. Most just shrug — who knows how much it will be or how long it will last? They'd rather have a promise of cheaper electricity, say, for the next ten years. That feels like a more tangible gain.
And yet the wind turbine fee can reliably cover the entire annual electricity bill of a rural resident. It's also codified in law, which means it's guaranteed and can't be quickly taken away. But it's no surprise that people no longer see legal promises as secure. One day it's one way, the next day it's another — politicians compete by promising to undo each other's tax policies and cash payouts once they get into power. The state gives and the state takes away.
I tend to agree with the economists who say in unison: the lives of Estonian people will only improve if the Estonian economy — that is, Estonian businesses — does better. What fosters optimism about the future is not another tax break or handout that can be taken away at any moment, but a secure job for yourself and those close to you, income that grows at least in line with inflation and visible development taking place around you.
In many rural areas, life has been stagnant for so long and so many homes have emptied out that, of course, people have lost all optimism about the future. If you tell them that a wind farm will bring new businesses to the region and breathe life into the local economy, they simply don't believe it. They can't even imagine anything positive coming from it because they no longer remember what new businesses and jobs once brought to the area. Everything feels temporary and nobody likes change.
So from a communication standpoint, I don't believe end-of-year political appeals for people to "just be more optimistic" are effective. What's needed instead is to show that we're actively looking for opportunities to collaborate and compromise, including with other political parties and various interest groups, and that efforts are being made to grow the economy and improve the quality of life.
I dare say, based on examples from many countries around the world, that well-placed wind turbines don't ruin the rural environment. What does ruin it are crumbling schools and kindergartens, abandoned factories and apartment buildings. Sure, Estonians like living in the middle of the forest, but they don't enjoy traveling a hundred kilometers just to access basic public services.
My hope is that at some point people themselves will come to understand that decline is not inevitable. Change is uncomfortable, yes, but necessary for life to move forward and get better.
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Editor: Marcus Turovski








