Reflections

This blog so far has been fairly rough fieldnotes - not all, but some - from running this big project. I haven't really spent much time talking about the project itself.

First, to brag. My students brought a whole extra level of professionalism to the project. The inclusion of two of my best students propelled the other students to do very good work. Both Mary Alice and Carime do wonderful work. If I had money I would hire them. Their gruntwork delivered the UE grants that help offset the costs. They could be counted on to work til the next step was done well, rather than simply til 500. And in truth, when I couldn't raise them on the cell phone, I did find them in the cafeteria working at night. Such dedication and perserverance will take them far in life. This is true even if they don't pursue academics, although I would love it if they did.

Secondly, Icelanders, or at least north Icelanders, are a lot like midwesterners. They like snowmobiles, modified trucks, warm houses, new electronics. These are all things I like too, so I understand them more than I do other Europeans sometimes. However, they have a strong traditional streak as well, almost clinging to the notion that Akureyri is an industrial town.

We went into this knowing Akureyri was changing socio-economically. The truth was staggering though. More than 10% of the town's GDP is from tourism alone. The university employees may be responisble for more than 2 billion kroner in property investments. The university may also be responsible for an extra thousand people in town, including children in the schools, ppl in the workforce, and so on. The gov't funded university pulls in hundreds of millions of kroner into town every year. The cruise ships alone are responsible for maybe 200 million kroner coming through the economy each year. That is the same as 100 blue collar jobs. Averaged over the whole year, tourist nights spent account for a 25% increase in the town's population.

This town is succeeding because it is aggressively courting the new economy engines of growth - tourism, education, and health care. But the ppl who live there don't really acknowledge this. They will say that tourism doesn't really bother them, but they are unlikely to grant much of their success to tourism. A local realtor said that the university didn't really matter - university ppl are poor and rent, and live in the older parts of town. Completely ignorant of the 2 billion in property invested, or the fact that the rental market is so hot that undergrads routinely buy instead of renting, or the fact that college faculty love old houses in old neighborhoods, this realtor seemed to think that ppl of any stature are interested in the new builds in the suburban periphery.

Not acknowledging the new economy does a couple things. The first is that it keeps the people "real". After all, they are far more interesting characters as blue collar manufacturers in a fishing town than they are employees at disney of the north. Secondly, they are unconsciously acknolwedging the drawback of embracing the new economy. Namely, that while this growth is good for the city as a whole, it does nothing for the individual shipyard worker who lost his job. Is this guy really going to reskill and become a computer networker for the university? Not likely. Is he going to be thankful to be pushing a broom at the local guesthouse? Again, not likely. So the things that are good for the town's economy aren't necessarily good for the individuals experiencing these transitions.

But, as true as this is, it needs to be weighed against real future options. There are towns in the Westfjords, and north Iceland that are dieing because the fish quota has been sold off. Empty houses stand with hand written "for sale" signs taped in the windows of these towns. As painful as these transitions are, in some cases it is the only choice other than a downward spiral. This too is just like the midwest.

In the end, this kind of research is interesting because in part it is about holding on to the towns, the places we love, even when the world is changing around them. Is there a point where it doesn't make sense for people to live in Olafsfjorður anymore? What about Valley City, ND? If we love these places, this kind of research is more than theoretical. It is visceral.