Why Finland Tops the World Happiness Rankings and What I Felt There

Before going to Finland, I kept asking myself the same question again and again. I was about to visit the world’s happiest country, not just according to the 2025 UN report, but a country that has now topped the rankings for the eighth consecutive year. I wondered how that would show up in real life.

Did happiness mean people smiling all the time? Or living a very exciting life? Or was it something else altogether? I carried this question with me, really expecting an answer.

I already knew how happiness was defined on paper.

According to the World Happiness Report 2025, published by the Sustainable Development Solutions Network in partnership with the United Nations, happiness is not measured by joy or excitement, but by life satisfaction shaped by social support, freedom to make life choices, economic stability, trust in people and systems, and everyday generosity.

The definition made sense to me, but it felt abstract before the visit.

We stayed at an Airbnb in Rovaniemi, hosted by a woman named Tina. We were prepared to manage on our own (As I travelled with my husband), so we already planned on paper about the trip. Still, Tina offered to pick us up from the station.

It was around minus 12 degrees, already dark by early evening, with snow-covered roads and frozen trees on both sides. I didn’t expect her to come, especially in a place where people value independence so much. But she did. Without making it feel like she was doing us a favour.

Her home felt calm the moment we entered. She is currently living upstairs there with her three children, and nothing feels excessive or chaotic for those four days. Our room was part of her house, not separate. She explained how to use the kitchen, the stove, microwave, oven, and even the dishwasher. 

It wasn’t over-friendly, but it wasn’t distant either. I didn’t feel like a guest who had to keep asking permission. I felt trusted, and that stayed with me. When she asked about food, we mentioned that we would buy something quick from the supermarket and eat. She suggested cooking in her kitchen, not strongly, just as an option.

She said it would be cheaper and more homely. When we asked how to get to Lidl, that was the point.

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She said she was going there anyway, and we could join her. There was no awkwardness, no sense that we were intruding. It felt normal in the car and almost ordinary, and that was the point.

Later that evening, I noticed her daughter sitting quietly, solving a puzzle. She said she liked doing it because it helped her think better. She was only fifteen, but confident, calm, and comfortable speaking with us. There was no performance, no nervousness. Just ease.

That moment made me think about how safety and trust shape people from a very young age. The sauna was turned on that night, something Tina never forgot. She made sure we had towels and knew what to do. Nothing dramatic, nothing ceremonial.

The next day, she mentioned she was going for a cold swim. In temperatures close to -24 degrees, she would step into icy water for a few minutes. I couldn’t imagine doing that. For her, it was her normal daily routine. It was simply something she did, a way of staying mentally strong and present.

Inside the house, small things stood out. Photos of the children on the fridge. Hooks assigned for jackets and bags. Everyone had their space. Expectations were clear. No confusion, no unnecessary friction. These details seemed small, but together they created a feeling of calm. Life didn’t feel rushed or overwhelming.

Walking without fear

As I moved around the city, like Santa Claus Village and also in more ordinary neighbourhoods, that sense of ease was with me even on day two of staying there. Everything felt very calm in the frozen wonderland and surprisingly safe.

I remember asking a few students whether it was okay to walk around late or travel back alone. They answered very casually, saying yes, most of the time it is, as long as you use basic common sense. There was no drama in the way they said it, which somehow made it more reassuring.

Public transport felt organised and reliable, and for shorter distances, services like Bolt and Uber were easily available and reasonably priced. What stayed with me most was how normal it felt to see young women driving alone in these cabs, without hesitation or visible concern. Payments were fully digital, things worked smoothly, and customer safety seemed to be taken seriously.

All of this quietly built confidence, not in an overwhelming way, but enough to make moving around feel simple and unburdened.

Slowly, without any big moment, I began to understand why Finland ranks so high on the happiness index. Not because life is perfect or exciting, but because life feels steady. Support exists without dependence. Trust replaces constant supervision. Generosity shows up quietly, without announcement. Systems work, people respect boundaries, and stress doesn’t dominate everyday living.

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One thing I kept noticing, without really trying to, was how people have developed lifestyle hobbies to keep them happy, like they move their bodies by walking a lot, running, or jogging in extreme weather. They dressed properly and went on with their day.

Regular simple meals, the sauna is mandatory, not as a special experience. Cold exposure and being outdoors were normal, not treated as something extreme.

What stayed with me most was that the atmosphere around all these things felt quieter. There was less noise, less urgency. People didn’t seem constantly in a hurry or overstimulated, and that calm showed in how they behaved and carried themselves. And that answered my question in only a few days, why Finland is at the top.

Finland’s happiness doesn’t look loud or expressive. It doesn’t need to prove itself. It is a routine, trust, and mental space. Being there changed how I think about happiness. I don’t see it as something to chase. I see it as something that grows when life feels stable enough, kind enough, and predictable enough to let you breathe.