It was the first paycheck I had ever received in Denmark. I felt we had landed on quite a good salary and so it came very much to my surprise when the number in my bank account appeared dramatically lower than the figure in my contract. That’s when I learned that 38% went directly to taxes.
More than a third of my salary was... gone?
Anger is the best word to describe the emotions that followed, as I ranted and raved to my Danish husband, desperately trying to understand why, compared to my home country, Canada, Denmark taxed at the level they do. Might I add that 38% is on the low end of things. At the maximum it’s over 50%.
Years later, four to be precise, and many heated discussions under my belt, I have come to peace with the fact that the salary I’m offered is far different than the payout I receive every month. So, what changed? Mostly that I came to understand that “tax” wasn’t a tax at all, it had its benefits.
What tax buys, it turns out a lot
Danes get the length of a full degree, around 5 years, paid for by the state, this in addition to financial support for living, known as SU, whilst they are studying. This was another hard to believe benefit of being Danish, having originally come to Denmark as a student and paid international tuition.
I won’t disclose in any detail, but the cost, compared to my Danish peers, would horrify just about anyone. The good news, if you're an EU citizen, is that this same offer is on the table for you – the option to study tuition free, while claiming the SU living grant, if working some hours alongside your studies.
Then there is subsidized day care, which, compared to much of Canada, means freedom for both parents to work. Danes pay out of pocket every month only a fourth of the actual cost; the municipality covers the rest, and lower-income families pay less again, or nothing at all.
Little ones can spend the day at either a vuggestue (a nursery with more children and more pedagogues) or a dagpleje (home-based care with 1 caretaker and up to 4 children). Our dagpleje is three children under two, cared for in the home of the warmest grandmother-like woman, which for us — with family far away — means the world. The environment is so nice to be in that at times I wouldn't mind spending a day there.
Then we can talk about healthcare, a doctor you can call – morning, afternoon, night or weekend and often get in to see within an hour. This is unheard of back in Canada. You can call with an acute illness, and they will give you an appointment with your doctor first in 2 weeks, or point you to the local emergency, where you’re likely to wait anything from four to eight hours, alongside plenty of other sick patients – yippee.
I'll be fair: Denmark has waiting lists too, especially for specialists and elective surgery, and the system isn't flawless. But for the ordinary business of being a bit ill, it has been a revelation.
The quiet part: a trust-based society
The system works so well because Danes (and residents of Denmark) pay into it, just as the ones that came before them did, and just as the ones who will come after them will. Each has their chance to reap the benefits, before feeling a moral obligation to “pay it forward” to the next generation.
This creates a collective mindset, over an individualistic one, and that can be felt in that it’s one of the few remaining societies where safety and trust still exist. People look out for each other and each other’s children.
Where we live, in Thy, kids as young as six are free to bike to and from school. Even in larger cities like Aarhus, I could leave my laptop, wallet and cellphone (or baby for that matter), out in the open whilst visiting the loo, and nothing bad would happen to it.
So, although it’s a stretch to say that Danes love to pay taxes — nobody loves the bill — I believe that most understand what their taxes go towards. They treat the slightly higher tax rate not as money lost, but as having a stake in a society that feels safe and that quietly works. Is it worth it? The Danes would say so.
Nine years in, so would I.