Bygdedyret: the village beast

Have you felt it?

You do something a little outside the normal. Before you know it, the rumour has spread like wildfire. You hear it from a mate, over a coffee at YX in Misvær, or at a party, through a friend of a friend.

Norwegians have a name for it: bygdedyret, the village beast.

As a misværing, someone from Misvær in northern Norway, I’ve lived and grown up in the village for most of my life. Everyone knows who you are, who your parents are and what you did in seventh grade. These days I work in Oslo, but I go home for the holidays or whenever it suits. That’s how it is for most young adults from the village.

A beast we all know

The word is usually credited to the poet Tor Jonsson, and it’s a close relative of Janteloven, the Law of Jante, and its “You’re not to think you are anything special”. Both are about the unwritten norms many of us grew up with: don’t brag, don’t stand out, and don’t think you’re better than anyone else.

In a village you feel them even more. A small community has its set boundaries, and sometimes you end up outside them, whether you want to or not.

Against you, and with you

For me, bygdedyret has been a complicated relationship. It works against you, and you play along.

You’re part of it yourself. You’ve heard a rumour and maybe kept it alive, without knowing if it’s true. It came from a third party, after all.

And you’ve been the one people talk about. Maybe you did something stupid at a party, or stood out a bit too much on social media or in the paper. In a small place, people have decided who you are long before they would in a city.

Around the time I started the company. Photo: Avisa Nordland

They say it takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. In a village it’s even faster. Everyone remembers who you were, even if you’re not that person any more.

When it happens, I call Linda Sandåker. We quickly agree: this is bygdedyret. Someone has said what they think a little too loudly, and just like that, they’ve got a label.

Then it’s full DEFCON 1, with the crisis team assembled and the PR director put to work. The damage has to be limited before the rumour gets any further.

Over time it makes us modest and afraid of conflict. We keep what we really think to ourselves, because we don’t want the whole village to know how we think.

Oslo and Misvær

In Oslo you can be everything and nothing. Nobody knows who your mum is, and you can try, fail and try again without it becoming a story. That’s freeing. But when nobody sees you, nobody notices if you disappear either.

Back home in Misvær, time stands still. When I come up in the holidays, I switch off and relax with good friends and family.

And that’s the strange thing about bygdedyret: it comes from the same place as the best people I know on this earth. People here care about each other, and help out when it’s needed. Sometimes maybe a bit too much.

A paradox!

Dare to stand your ground

In September 2018 I was in Bodø Nu, the local news site, under the headline “Vil skape video-imperium fra Misvær” (“Wants to build a video empire from Misvær”). I was 18, had started Nordic Productions that same year, and was as naive as only an 18-year-old can be. I said something like “I’m going to outcompete them”. I had no idea it would be lifted out of a passing remark and become much bigger than it was.

Most people didn’t say much, but back home in Misvær, people were probably a bit embarrassed that I’d said it in the paper.

I didn’t let it stop me. That same year I won a video competition and got to go to Hemsedal with Fanta Norway. I dared, and I pulled it off!

With Fanta Norway in Hemsedal, 2018.

The digs only came later. A couple of years on, I heard that a business leader in Bodø had said: “I’m not having anything to do with him.” Through a third party, of course. So the village beast doesn’t only live in villages.

Other times I’ve been told “You think you’re so much better than everyone else” or “You think you’re a businessman”. That’s Janteloven almost word for word.

And that’s what sticks. You usually remember the bad things, not the good ones.

It has also been much harder than I thought. Plenty of times it has felt like one step forward and ten steps back. But you learn to fall forward, one rung up the ladder at a time.

What I’ve learned since 2018 is that the people who go furthest are the ones who never give up, but stay pragmatic along the way. Do what you’re good at, and be honest about what you can’t do. Dare to fail, and learn from it. You never stop learning, trust me!

To the people who try to pull you down: smile and wave. Nobody else knows how hard you work, or how many hours you put in over a week.

Stick with the people who pull you up instead. For me, Linda has been a great role model, and I see her as a mentor. And the best friends stand by you, also when the rollercoaster heads down.

Lift each other up

Why can’t we just lift each other up in the hard times, and cheer for each other when things go well?

If someone has done something a bit out of line, or something that puts others down, it’s better to keep a lid on it than to spread it. At least until you know what actually happened.

I’m not innocent myself. But the best thing is often to be a bit careful about what you say. Because in the end, you don’t know if it’s true.

So next time you hear something new over a coffee at YX, maybe let it stay with the coffee.

The village beast lives on what we feed it. Maybe we should just stop feeding it? 🙂

Sources: The word bygdedyret is usually credited to the poet Tor Jonsson. Janteloven is from Aksel Sandemose’s novel En flyktning krysser sitt spor (1933). “Vil skape video-imperium fra Misvær”, Bodø Nu, 9 September 2018.