In Finland, Jokamiehenoikeus (“everyman’s right to roam”) is more than a legality. It is a cultural inheritance, a quiet law that allows anyone to roam freely through forests, gather berries and camp under the stars without asking for permission. The Finnish landscape is not owned, it is shared. This simple, yet fundamental, act of environmental respect taught me something during my year abroad. Sustainability is not merely a policy; it is a way of life, one that connects people to the land and to each other.
When I arrived in Helsinki, I expected to study sustainability through academia. But what I encountered was far more subtle. The city itself was a living example of sustainability: from ubiquitous recycling bins to public transport powered by renewable energy, plant-based meals that were the default option to green rooftops and energy-efficient buildings. Sustainability wasn’t an initiative; it was the city’s backbone, woven into its everyday fabric. Here, sustainability wasn’t a burden but a collective practice supported by infrastructure, making it both effortless and necessary.
This realisation deepened when I travelled to Lapland, as when I was surrounded by the untouched snow and forests, I attended a seminar hosted by Sámi elders. They spoke not only of climate change but of its effects on their very identity. Reindeer herding, a centuries-old tradition, was being disrupted as the land and weather patterns changed. The Sámi people, whose culture is inextricably linked to the rhythms of the land, were confronting a harsh reality. I understood then that sustainability is not just about conserving resources, but about preserving cultural practices and ways of life that are often vulnerable in the face of environmental destruction.
This was a turning point. As someone who has spent years understanding care through being a young carer, it became clear that sustainability, at its core, is an act of care. It is about creating systems that allow individuals and communities to thrive without depleting the resources of the earth. The Sámi taught me that environmental care is intertwined with social care; they cannot be separated. In Finland, I saw how these principles are integrated not just into laws but into the very structure of society. I understood how deeply our choices, our laws, and our culture shape our relationship to the world.
Returning to the UK, I now see sustainability as a multifaceted practice, one that must be as inclusive and accessible as possible. It’s about making sustainable living the easiest option, so that it’s not a luxury, but a universal right. My experience in Finland has strengthened my resolve to pursue legal and policy work that places care and sustainability at the heart of our shared future.
Sustainability is not just something we do; it’s something we live. And for me, that lesson began in Finland, where the land isn’t just owned, it’s cared for.
