A Postcard from Copenhagen
How daily life is shifting as COVID-19 restrictions are lifted
You can practically hear the collective sigh of relief as countries around the world begin to lift coronavirus restrictions. But this sigh is also precarious: easing restrictions too soon, or in the wrong way, could be disastrous. As countries like China, Japan, Denmark, and Germany ease into the “next normal,” we are on the lookout for early signals of which new norms and behaviors may be here to stay in a post-COVID world – as well as how people might default to their former, deeply ingrained ways of life. We are curious about how our rituals, values and ideas, norms for bodies in public space, sense of community and experience of distance could be in flux.
As one of the first Western countries to ease restrictions, Denmark is a natural bellwether for these social changes. Taking to the streets of Copenhagen during the last week of April, ReD researchers took a close look at the reemergence of daily public life by observing and interviewing 30 people from a range of backgrounds about what coronavirus has and hasn’t changed for them. Some of these observations may be unique to Copenhagen, and borne out of its particular situation, demographics and social structures. Others are more generally applicable. We plan to follow these patterns over time, and in other markets in the coming weeks, to see how they play out.
Public space is being renegotiated
We witnessed what appears to be a “renegotiation of public space” happening on the streets of Copenhagen — a battle of ideas about what behaviors and uses of space are and are not appropriate during this time. Is a park a place to picnic with friends, or a place to pass through on the way to run an errand? Is a newly reopened store meant to be a symbolic victory, or an invitation to line up with strangers and splurge after a month of little spending? Who gets to decide what the new rules and norms will be? And how should they be enforced?
While the official guidelines in Denmark are to continue social distancing, we observed that many people have quickly snapped back to the habit of standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers. (See, for example, the photo below of the Louis Vuitton store, which was just about to re-open its doors.) Friends, colleagues, and classmates grouped in close proximity to eat lunch or discuss projects, the majority drawing the line only at “no touching.” Those continuing to social distance took on a sort of passive vigilantism as they made their way past, casting looks of concern or disdain at such groups.
As we spoke to strangers on both sides of this equation, it became clear to us that people’s mental models of the crisis (largely informed by factors such as employment status, sense of connection or loneliness, etc.) were closely correlated to their behaviors. Some saw the crisis as a “moment of self-reflection,” “an extended summer holiday.” Others viewed it as “a hell with no end in sight,” or a serious threat to their health, communities, or livelihoods. Amid such a disparity of mental models, norms continue to be rewritten, and a vacuum of moral authority persists.
Louis Vuitton store in Copenhagen on May 1, 2020 in the first days after reopening after the COVID-19 closures
People are experiencing a flattened, more permeable sense of time
For many during the lockdown, natural barriers between “work” and “home,” and “professional” and “personal” have collapsed. Many people have been forced to be more flexible with their time, making themselves available to communication from a wider variety of people on a wider variety of channels than ever before. It feels to many like time is “flattening,” losing its natural topography and structure — with the consequence that personal space and sense of interiority is more permeable.
Unsurprisingly, many people we met are struggling to enforce boundaries and structures to keep sane. But what interested us is just how much people have adapted. Rather than setting up specific times to call, with clearly defined agendas and other formalities, many people we met were surprised by how much value they found in the casualness of quarantine communication. Many people felt a newfound freedom in simply “dropping in” on more distant connections, and of feeling more present, even though most of their communications were happening from a distance. For example, one young architect we met revealed that he now spends much of the day talking on the phone as he’s working: “People are much more inclined to contact each other out of the blue […] They know you are available and we are used to just picking up the phone now.”
Whether or not this “flattening” of time proves sticky will depend on a number of factors: Will work-from-home culture persist? Will those who have been forced to adopt channels like FaceTime or Zoom continue to use them beyond this crisis? If it does persist, this shift in how we experience time could raise a variety of fundamental questions about how companies should best engage their customers. Take, for example, consumer journeys, which are premised on well-defined moments and occasions when particular messages, channels, and tones are relevant to consumers. What will a consumer journey look like in this new, flattened landscape of time?
A greater sense of self-sufficiency, domesticity, and moderation may persist.
When the lockdown went into effect, many of the people we met unsurprisingly shifted their 'splurging' closer to home - pausing their spending on out-of-home hospitality and entertainment (clubs, concerts, restaurants, museums) while increasing spending on simpler and more domestic luxuries: fresh-cut flowers, good bottles of wine, high-quality fish, and so on. At the same time, many people used their newfound free time at home to learn new hobbies and skills: cultivating herb gardens, baking sourdough, even designing tattoos. Interestingly, most of the people we met have continued these behaviors even as they come out of lockdown.
Lockdown seems to have highlighted the personal and social value of a more self-sufficient, home-centered breed of living than most city dwellers are accustomed to (even in a country like Denmark, famous for its culture of homemaking). At the same time, it's given some people the time and space to jumpstart hobbies, skills, and other self-improvement efforts they'd been putting off, and to realize these activities may be doable after all. While many people are no doubt eager to get back to out-of-home entertainment, others we spoke to suggested that a greater sense of moderation and self-sufficiency may persist in their future. The same architect who spoke to us about phone calls while he worked, for example, revealed that while he felt enormous pressure to be 'in the know' pre-lockdown through cultural activities like museum visits, he now realizes he can be happy doing much less.
We are looking forward to continuing building on these patterns in the coming weeks, exploring what life looks like in other markets as restrictions lift. Are you a social scientist with observations to share, or a business owner facing big questions? Email us info@redassociates.com.
Research and photography contributed by Cengiz Cemaloglu and Thomas Hughes.