By Morten Poulsen

Abstract 

Hygge is a social construct that is deeply embedded in Danish culture. It is elusive and ubiquitous, yet it informs sociability, by creating ideals for social behaviour, and shapes orientations and ways of participation and belonging. Though hygge commonly describes a cozy mood evoked by comfort, it favours an atmosphere with an emphasis on social  harmony and avoidance of topics that risks creating feelings of discomfort.  

Throughout this paper, Morten Poulsen explores the history of hygge as an atmosphere that effects the space for listening, in order to reflect on the audibility of dissident voices in Denmark, particularly in the light of protests against the Danish governments' complicity in the genocide in Gaza. Poulsen analyses this topic through the lens of Social Acoustics  (LaBelle, B.), Unlistening (Chattopadyay, B.), and questions of orientation and alignment  (Ahmed, S.), to better understand how hygge function as a form of auditory disciplining. 

When expression of discontent is seen as causing discomfort, that »risks« agitating the status quo, how does socio-cultural constructs such as hygge influence the space for  citizens to address injustice? 

Introduction  

[Hygge is to] experience or create a comfortable, safe and relaxed atmosphere – ordnet.dk (accessed August 6th 2025) 

Those who rock the boat, who think differently, who speak out – “they are spoiling the hygge”… – Charlotte Higgins, citing Dorthe Nors (Higgins 2016) 

It’s embarrassing and they should be ashamed – Frederik Vad, Spokesperson on  Immigration with Socialdemokraterne (The Social Democrats), speaking about  protesters who interrupted Vad’s speech at Folkemødet, an annual Democracy  Festival held on the island of Bornholm, Denmark. The protesters chanted “no space for racism” and their interruption came as a response to Vad's earlier  statements on immigration, where he has, among other things, accused “well integrated immigrants” of “undermining Danish society” (Nissen 2024). 

In this paper, I consider the impact of hygge, a social construct and phenomena deeply embedded in the Danish national character, in order to question the space for dissident  voices in Denmark, particularly in the light of the responses from the Danish government and public media to protests in Denmark since the settler-colonial state of Israel’s escalation of the genocide in Gaza in October 2023. 

Covering all of the multiple perspectives of this escalation, such as, for example, the historical influence of the Danish state’s alliance with US foreign politics, or the protection of  the economic interests of the Danish state and companies, is beyond the capacity of this  paper. However, it is certain that the issue of the Danish government’s support of Israel and  aiding role in war crimes, has led to a growing sense of discontent in the Danish public (1), and a broad, tangible and ideological struggle where citizens seek to draw attention to the Danish state’s complicity and call for justice and accountability in the face of this complicity.  The struggles have been manifested through various efforts, including some that are  disruptive and noisy. Many of these efforts have been met with varying degrees of rhetorical  disavowal and ignorance, and increased police repression (2). This contentious context, where citizens are, fundamentally, demanding to be listened to, but, as elaborated in this paper, are  met with forms of unlistening, guides my inquiry into sonic citizenship. If sonic citizenship  deals with questions of audibility, rights, identity, participation and belonging in society  through sound (Højlund, M., Vandsø, A., & Breinbjerg, M., 2024), I am concerned with inaudibility and how it is (re)produced; how some voices - in this paper particularly dissident  voices, voices asking for social change, or voices that in some way agitates the political  status quo - are made inaudible, unintelligible; and how this affects individuals’ and groups’ sense of belonging and agency in society.  

In Lightness of Atmospheric Communities, Mikkel Bille describes how hygge contributes to  the creation of an atmospheric community “evoked at a national scale, as a cherished  national trait of way of being together” (Bille 2019: 250). Rather than being defined by  identification with a geographical area, this atmospheric community “is established by  normalised ways of seeing the world at the margins of attention” (Bille 2019: 251), accompanied by “a moral moulding of what counts as correct behaviour and ways of  sensing” (Bille 2019: 251). Besides Bille’s description here of hygge as connected to national  identity, we can also note that hygge is also generated or performed through  various means, such as, in Bille’s research, with lighting. But sound too can be a type of  atmospheric generator. Take for example the use of music playlists on streaming services that are designed to accommodate and cultivate specific moods and atmospheres. However, in  the case of hygge atmosphere, I speculate on whether it is characterised more by the  absence of sound, by silence, or perhaps the absence of some sounds: sounds that are  considered noise, and unwanted, by some.  

This leads me to study hygge’s potential contribution to a culture of silence and silencing:  how those who challenge the social codes of hygge can be met with shaming and social  expulsion; how hygge can involve emotional suppression and self-censorship; how this  contributes to a culture of conflict avoidance in favour of maintaining comfort; and how this  socio-cultural phenomenon is utilised by authorities of various kinds to signal which voices  can be listened to. 

In my research and artistic practice, I am interested in the acoustics for listening, or,  described differently, the conditions for listening to take place. Here I follow the work of Brandon LaBelle in expanding the understanding of acoustics to include immaterial aspects,  such as cultural norms, as conditioners for listening. Hygge is one such cultural norm that affects acoustics for listening, in the way that it informs behaviour and notions of what can be  said and what can be listened to. Hygge favours an atmosphere with an emphasis on social  harmony and avoidance of topics that risk creating feelings of discomfort, that might “ruin” or “spoil” the hygge. By studying this cultural phenomena through the lens of listening, I seek to explore how hygge influences the space, the acoustics, in which listening takes place. 

Hygge might originate in Scandinavia, but its general characteristics – the desire for comfort – and its potential effect – conflict avoidance – is undoubtedly not exclusive to Scandinavia. Though the focus on hygge is culturally specific, the conversation that this paper seeks to  contribute to – how do we listen through feelings of discomfort around issues on which there  are many emotions – might be transferred to other cultures and cultural phenomenas.

Let’s just Hygge 

Hygge is ambiguous and elusive, it is “a fickle guest” (Ditlevsen 1965: 17). Yet it is undoubtedly a deeply embedded and ubiquitous part of the Danish culture. Ask almost any  person familiar with Danish culture about hygge, and they will describe various experiences  of comfort and coziness, often involving candlelights, or sharing food or drinks with friends or family at home. Or they might tell you that hygge is to watch a film or read a book and have a warm beverage in one's own company, perhaps while rain pours outside. Phrases like ”det var hyggeligt” (that was hyggelig), that serves as a reassurance that hygge did indeed take place, and “hyg dig” (have a hyggelig time) when saying farewell, are part of daily life and language, and express a cultural concern with a harmonious everyday sociality. Hygge-stemning (hygge-mood) is an idealised form of togetherness, stereotypically depicted in commercials and television as families clustering at home to do cozy activities, in shelter  from the cold outdoors. In Danish song and poetry there are several references to hygge. For example, in "Svantes Lykkelige Dag" (Svante’s Happy Day) (from 1972), a song that could  be proposed to be the musical emblem of hygge, the climax sings “om lidt er kaffen klar” (the coffee is almost ready): a near summary of hygge-mood with its appreciation for “the small joys in life”. 

While the word hygge itself originates in Norwegian language (and further back, Old Norse)  and meant to give comfort or joy to someone, it began to take shape as a social construct  with the emergence of the bourgeoisie in Denmark at the turn of the 19th and 20th century.  In an effort to distinguish itself from both the peasants and the aristocracy, the bourgeoisie  developed a particular focus on values such as hygge and the home and family as a place of  comfort and stability, and as a safe haven from the outside world. The inside-outside  dichotomy is a recurring theme in the studies on hygge by anthropologists such as Jeppe Trolle Linnet and Judith Friedman Hansen, and in other depictions of hygge. Both Linnet and Hansen make several connections between hygge and home, sheltering, interiority, introversion, encapsulation, isolation, smallness and closure. In The Proxemics of Danish  Daily Life (1976), Hansen contextualises the Danes’ physical preference for small spaces, and the home in particular: “Their relative powerlessness in international politics and  economic dependence on world markets, for example, is often implicit, as is the awareness  that their language and culture are shared by an infinitsmal proportion of the world’s people. Yet as often as this smallness is noted as a fact of life to be dealt with, equally frequently is it  voiced with evident affection. What lies behind the words is a complex of cultural values which reflect a preference for surroundings that do not dwarf human actors, for spaces that  are easily comprehended by the human perceiver” (Hansen 1976: 53). Besides a spatial  preference for small spaces such as the home, Linnet argues that this affects the worldview  of the Danish middle-class in other ways too: “A central dynamic here… is the  dichotomisation in which the ‘inside’ of social space or individual subjectivity is romanticised, while the ‘outside’ or public sphere is seen as morally inferior” (Linnet 2011: 32). Linnet suggests that the romanticisation of the individual subjectivity is connected with the Nordic Lutheran heritage: “In terms of tracing philosophical currents that set the stage for hygge, Lutheran thought might have contributed to the appreciation of inner subjectivity as the more  authentic, pure, and elevated realm and to the skeptical assumption of profane motives  behind overt gestures and achievements in the public sphere” (Linnet 2011: 38). Later  incorporated into the “consensus history”, an effort in the years following WWII to construct  an idea of Danish national identity, the worship of the home as the centre of family life, and  synonymous with ‘security’ and ‘interiority’ in an unstable and ‘harsh’ outside world,  continued into the social democratic welfare model and the vision of the state as ‘the  people’s home’ (Breunig and Kallestrup 2020). 

Tryghed (security or comfort) is another central and often repeated value in Danish society. Linnet cites Schwarts (1989) in pointing out its connection to hygge: “There is an idealisation  of the home, the romantic Heimat, as something “secure and restful, warm and congenial – precisely what in Danish is known as tryg, trivelig and hyggelig” (Linnet 2011: 37). Hygge and tryghed are often tied together and sometimes used almost interchangeably to signify  the same, as will be exemplified later in this paper. 

Finally, another important leg on which hygge stands, is a strong value of egalitarianism. So  much so that, as Linnet describes, it is expressed as a prevalent class denial: “Everyone is loath to classify him- or herself as anything but middle-class” (Linnet 2011: 25). This social  imaginary, in which everyone is perceived to be part of the same class, creates a strong  dynamic of social control, in which one is supposed to not ‘stick out’, to not be different, as  this would challenge the cultural self-understanding of everyone being more or less equal. One side of this dynamic control is the connection to values such as a life lived in conformity,  and a suppression of difference through expecting everyone to subscribe to the same set of  social rules, expressed and aided by the (in)famous Jantelaw (3), that implies a negative stereotyping of those who are perceived as different, and who in effect stir the comfort  and stability so embedded in hygge. 

Hygge and its associations with middle-class and bourgeois culture and ideals is not  infrequently the subject of critique. Already in 1871, the literary critique Georg Brandes declared that the overblown importance ascribed to ideals such as family life, home, and  homely atmosphere (hyggeligheden) is a common Danish phenomenon – and without  artificial light these ideals would show to be “not untrue, but relative” (Brandes 1872: 151). Brandes critique launched the Modern Breakthrough in art and literature in Denmark,  characterised by a radical confrontation with traditional ideals and values – especially  regarding religion, gender roles and politics. Later, other intellectuals and artists have been  presenting hygge as the essence of stagnation, such as Kjeld Abell’s play "Melodien Der Blev Væk" (The Lost Melody) (1935), in which hygge and middle-class culture is equated with  death. The play comes to a standstill in the middle of a moment of hygge, in all its silence and dullness, causing an audience member (performed by an actor) to get up onto the stage  and threaten the theatre director (also an actor) because the audience member, according to  themself, is there to be entertained and not to be reminded of their daily life. This fictional  outcry and expression of entitlement to be entertained and not reminded of “everyday life”  was echoed in the real life reaction from commentators in the Danish media, after a series of  pro-Palestine chants at Roskilde Festival in summer 2025. Many of these commentators  argued that music festivals are supposed to be a place for hygge and not a place for political expression (4). These comments echo Arne Karlsen’s "Noter om Hygge" (Notes About Hygge), where he wrote: “Hygge is, in its very essence, conservative. Hygge thrives the best in the unchanging” (Karlsen 1965: 83).  

Spoiling the hygge 

Kjeld Abell's stageplay Anna Sophie Hedvig (1938) premiered at the Danish Royal Theatre in Copenhagen eight months before WWII, and stands as an important resistance drama in Danish theatre. In it, the audience experience a dinner party with a bourgeoisie family, when  they receive an unexpected visit from Anna Sophie Hedvig, a distant family member (who  also belong to a different social class). It is revealed that she has killed a person, the evil  school principal Mrs. Møller, who is described as a tyrant. The play was written during the  years leading up to World War II, in which the Danish government was neutral towards the  rise of the dictatorships of Franco in Spain and Hitler in Germany. As early as December  1934, the Danish prime minister at the time, Thorvald Stauning, had given a speech in which  he emphasised the responsibility of the Danish press, when it wrote non-neutrally about  foreign issues. The Foreign Ministry at the same time urged the editors-in-chief to exercise  self-restraint and neutrality, and anti-Nazi articles ceased to appear in the daily newspapers (5). Through the characters Anna Sophie Hedvig and John (who is the son in the bourgeoisie  family), and the staging of the hygge-atmosphere as a reluctance to be involved in the world  outside, Abell critiques the Danish preference for passivity and neutrality in the face of  emerging fascism, which he experienced in his lifetime. 

In the play, the family and guests are gathered around a fireplace in the livingroom, drinking  coffee and cognac, when the topic of death is briefly mentioned. The hostess attempts to  shut down the topic, but the young John teases: “You feel the warm atmosphere of the living  room more intensely – outside, all sorts of uhyggelig [scary or uncomfortable] things might be  happening - but we can afford to stay out of that – it’s none of our business – it’s just something we talk about – when we turn the light back on, it’s all gone with a finger snap – for us, that is – not for the others” (Abell 1966: 32). John is quickly dismissed by the host and hostess (John’s parents) as just a young boy (although he is an adult) who says things only  to provoke, that his position is naive, and that conversations with him are strenuous. Abell  underlines that this scene is not a special case, by repeatedly expressing that the family is “so infinitely ordinary and indifferent” (Abell 1966: 37). The tension rises as John’s parents  repeatedly attempts to change the subject. A little later, it is revealed that Anna Sophie 

Hedvig has killed the tyrant Mrs. Møller. This leads to an explosive conversation and fight  between the family and guests about the morality of acting against and ultimately killing  tyrants. Again, Abells’ cultural critique resonates in the heated exchange between John and Karmarch (a business man and friend of John’s father): 

JOHN: That’s the usual – we are neither for nor against – always in the middle – we  always understand both sides of an issue - that's our blatant weakness in relation to  others who stand their ground – without a nuance – they go straight ahead – and we just  give up – and apologize with saying that we are so humane 
KARMARCH: Is this now wrong? - should we also be accused for this? JOHN: If it is humane to sit idly by and just let things happen, then humanism has  become a curse word - a bush we stick our heads in (Abell 1966: 62). 

A little later in the same argument between John and Karmarch, a damning critique of the tendency to ignore is raised:

^{JOHN: – yes – we go on listening  (}6). ^{–  
KARMARCH: – listening to what?  
JOHN: – to the radio – as long as it is harmless entertainment music, we listen with half an ear – but suddenly there is a voice that cuts through and says things that scare us – we feel that it is a voice we should defend ourselves against – we feel in our hands an  urge to choke – meaning, we get up and go and turn a knob [to shut off the radio] - what  we do not hear, we imagine has not been said - but the voice still speaks – it roars words  across the world - only against our deaf closed ears it drums without being allowed to  enter – we peacefully continue our solitaires until the voice suddenly blows up the device  and rushes over our heads – but then it is too late – we have taken our stand by not taking any stand (Abell 1966: 64).} 

In the above extracts from Anna Sophie Hedvig, we find expressed a critique of the idleness  that Abell connects with hygge. This is similar to the silence displayed in the hygge-moment in Abell’s other play, "Melodien Der Blev Væk", mentioned above. Both depicts a hygge atmosphere that is characterised by avoidance, even a hiding in comfort, and a listening that  actively ignores; deaf closed ears that imagine that the world outside, represented by a  voice that not only speaks but roars, does not exist. Furthermore, Anna Sophie Hedvig expresses the social consequences of challenging the hygge mood, through the family’s  dismissive and aggressive reaction to John’s comments. 

We find accusations like Abell’s expressed other places too, that the Danish national character is “disposed to seeking and maintaining hygge to the extent of sidestepping  necessary conflicts” (Linnet 2011: 32) or that it has a desire to evade responsibility (Vistisen and Moesbøl 2025). For example, in Jeppe Aakjær’s poem "Historiens Sang" (The Song of History) (from 1916, written during the WWI) there is a powerful line that hints at the  exceptionalist aspect of hygge culture: “Du pusling-land, som hygger dig i smug, mens hele  verden brænder om din vugge” (You baby-country, you are comfortable in your shelter, while by your crib the whole world burns). 

Finally, another notable effect of hygge as a supposed "safe haven” from the outside world (Linnet 2011: 30), is how it may also function to insulate participants from accountability.  Examples of this are hygge-racism and hygge-sexism: racist and sexist remarks and  behaviours, even physical violence, trivialised under the guise of hygge. Those who call out hygge-racism and hygge-sexism are often accused of “spoiling the hygge”, and might face  public outcry, like actor Sofie Linde after her public comments about her experiences with sexual discrimination. In the introduction to her 2015 short story Hygge, which is inspired by  an article about a Danish man who had murdered his wife right after they had had a hyggelig time, Dorthe Nors writes: “”Hygge” is also used as a way to suppress feelings in a family or relationship. Every time someone wants to address some kind of unpleasant emotion, this  person is in danger of spoiling the “hygge” and will be told: “Now, let’s just “hygge” – which basically just means: Let’s just stay on the surface…” (Higgins 2016). 

As the above examples suggest, hygge relies on a social consensus that is at the same time  particular and porous: an idealised “apolitical” norm of in-group togetherness based on  frictionless comfort, that is challenged when matters deemed outside the hygge environment  are presented, or when individuals voice discontent, who critique or uncover hygge’s culture  of conflict avoidance and conservatism. 

Social Acoustics 

“On one hand, acoustics is understood as the physical conditions, the architectures and spatial arrangements, that facilitate and shape the reflections and reverberations of sound: acoustics as a question of the physics of sound, the materiality of space, and the  physiology of hearing. Following this perspective, acoustics dramatically contributes to a sense of orientation as well as belonging, lending to how we navigate through spaces  and environments in capturing a sense of place: how we synchronize, attune, and align  with others. From such a base, acoustics is underscored as effecting experiences of  hearing and the expressions of sociality, on the relationships we may form and in which  listening becomes more operative. This finally leads to considering acoustics as having  an impact onto a politics of recognition and location, and articulations of forms of life: acoustics as a politics through which struggles over recognition and rights, belonging  and access are waged.” (LaBelle 2021: 10) 

As LaBelle writes, acoustics often relates to the physical conditions that facilitate and shape the reflections and reverberations of sound. From soft materials and acoustic panels  that absorb reflections, to acoustic diffusers that break up and scatter sound waves in various direction, to bass traps that neutralise lower frequencies, and double wall insulation (and, in the contemporary personalised space of headphones, noise cancellation) that stops  sound waves from spilling in or out, various techniques can be employed to secure “control” over the sound and acoustics of a given space. In acoustically treated listening spaces, such  as music studios and cinema, the aim is often to create acoustic conditions that affect the  sound as little as possible. In other spaces, such as some office spaces and cafes, the aim  is to dampen echoing sound. Acoustic conditions create reverberation and echo are at  other times desirable for enhancing the experience of sound, such as in many churches.  Sometimes priority might be given to interior design based on visual aesthetics, and acoustic  conditions are of lesser consideration. In either way, the physical conditions of acoustics  contributes to how we orientate ourselves, literally, through the ways they effect how we navigate through environments, how we turn our bodies, where to direct our attention, and to  which acoustics we find belonging. Furthermore, acoustics are infused with socio-cultural  values and norms that informs the atmosphere in which listening and being heard takes  place. This inclusion of non-sound and cultural context helps to expand the understanding of  acoustics. By pointing out how both material and immaterial acoustics contour our private  and public life and conditions cultures of listening and conversing, they inform the dynamics  of social life. In this way, and returning to LaBelle, acoustics emerges as a political question,  as it informs the possibilities for what and who can be listened to, including struggles for  attention and recognition.  

This expanded understanding of acoustics provides a framework for unpacking how hygge informs modes of societal participation through norms of how subjects are expected to navigate the social sphere. What is sayable and audible, at different times and places, is  measured against this atmospheric and ubiquitous culture of maintaining hygge. 

Hygge acoustics 

To get a sense of what might be suggested to be the origins of the acoustic norms afforded  by hygge, or at least the kind that Georg Brandes, Kjeld Abell, Tove Ditlevsen and others  criticised in the 1870’s, 1930’s, and 1960’s respectively, one can take a tour of the  Klunkehjem museum in Copenhagen. Today a branch of the National Museum, the  Klunkehjem apartment has been preserved as it was furnished between the 1890’s and  1910’s, by the bourgeois family Christensen. The apartment is divided into rooms with  specific purposes, among them a room dedicated to guests and family-hygge. The interior  features overwhelmingly soft, dark and heavy materials, such as carpets covering the entire  floor, cushions, soft and bulging furniture, and windows draped in thick curtains. Not only is  this interior preserved since the 1910’s, but the Klunkehjem is also an example of a  preservation of acoustics where our contemporary ears can come closer to experiencing the  aural architecture of the past. The soft materials contribute to an acoustic environment  where sound and reflections are absorbed within the space, while the curtains prevent sound from the outside to enter. The absence of noticeable room reverb makes speaking in this space an intimate experience. The working areas, such as the kitchen, is further back in  the apartment, and staff that served the family could be spoken to via a tube in the wall.  Furthermore, according to the museum tour guide, there were certain customs to adhere to  as a guest. One would be to refrain from discussing “difficult topics”. Instead, the host would  provide a book of photos of family members or places the family had travelled to, which the  guest was expected to ask polite questions about. At Klunkehjemmet we experience a living  echo of the acoustics of “ideal” home at the genesis of the contemporary understanding of hygge, and of the social norms that follows. 

Interior design and social customs inherent in hygge, as exemplified above, are part of  establishing an atmosphere that draw lines for permissable social behaviour and  participation. It is with inspiration from the work of Sara Ahmed that I propose to consider  hygge as an atmospheric orientation device. In Queer Phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others, Ahmed writes about the ways we use objects that we recognise in order to  orientate ourselves according to those objects. Ahmed describes these objects as orientation devices, using the writing table as an example: the table as an object “from”  which to think, to show how “what” we think “from” is an orientation device (Ahmed 2006: 3). Familiarity with different objects directs which ways our bodies turn, what attracts us, and  where we find belonging. As Ahmed suggests, this familiarity goes both ways, as orientation devices shape us as we shape what is familiar to us through the objects available:  “Familiarity is shaped by the “feel” of space or by how spaces “impress” upon bodies. This  familiarity is not, then, “in” the world as that which is already given. The familiar is an effect  of inhabitance; we are not simply in the familiar, but rather the familiar is shaped by actions  that reach out toward objects that are already within reach” (Ahmed 2006: 7).  

Although hygge is not in itself a material object (although material objects might be  associated with hygge, such as blankets or candlelights) it is established as an intangible feel of space, a vibe, as an atmosphere. As elaborated in this paper, hygge is part of  everyday practices of attuning atmospheres, and is at the same time more than that: it is not  only what is experienced but also what should be experienced. Hygge is elevated as an essential value in the Danish national self-understanding. So much so, that in 2016, when the Danish minister of culture at the time Bertel Haarder created a cultural canon of the ten most important Danish values, hygge was one of them, among other so-called national values such as freedom, trust and Christianity (Regeringen 2016). Hygge is an orientation device, similar to Ahmed’s table, that informs ways of orientation, recognition and familiarity,  and creates norms of behaviour and patterns of thinking and experiencing the world.  However hygge is atmospheric and not bound to objects, yet elevated as an ideal that is  deeply embedded into the social culture in Denmark. 

As alluded to other places in this paper and elsewhere, this hygge ideal has a tendency to  lean towards traditionalism, political conservatism and Danish middle-class values, perhaps particularly in the way that it favours sheltering from that which might disturb it, that which suggests to change it, or that which might create discomfort to its participants. Via threats of shaming and social expulsion (with warnings like “don’t spoil the hygge”), asking participants to maintain hygge can function to bring participants into alignment. As an attuning phenomenon, participants might self-align, in order to belong, motivated by the threats of  shaming or exclusion from the atmospheric community. This may also lead to self censorship, and there are at least a few artistic works that describe this phenomenon and  how the weight of hygge might be experienced on an individual level. In Tove Ditlevsen’s Sjældent Hyggeligt (Rarely Hyggelig), she describes the following reaction to hygge, when the family was gathered around the coffee table: “I had shortness of breath, heart  palpitations, nausea, feeling the creeps, hot flashes, and an unbearable urge to go to the  toilet in the middle of the hygge” (Ditlevsen 1965). An even more poignant expression of this feeling of suppression can be interpreted from the mural ‘Hygge’ by the Haitian and Spanish artist Axel Void, which depicts a person’s head wrapped in clear plastic foil, rendering them  seemingly unable to breathe let alone speak. Written across this image, in what appears as  typography inspired by old norse, is the word ‘hygge’. 

Auditory disciplining 

With its emphasis on comfort and conformity, and sheltering from the outside world; with its  history in middle-class traditions; and with suppression of dissident expressions and  sometimes explicit use as social control: hygge, posed as an atmospheric orientation device,  informs individual and collective orientations that extend from the private realm and into the  public sphere. As a socio-cultural construct that has been embedded into “common sense”, it  guides what can be registered intelligible according to a cultural hegemony.  

Having compiled this history on hygge, exploring how it is imprinted in the Danish national  character, and theorising it as an acoustic norm that shapes social behaviour including ways  of sounding and listening, particularly in regards to dissident expression, I will now turn  towards applying these theories to present day, as Denmark has been, along with other  nation states, in a public and political crisis to react to Israel’s actions in Gaza. In this  context, hygge provides a lens through which we can interrogate the state of listening, power  and sonic citizenship in Denmark. 

My context for this analysis is the growing sense of discontent in the Danish public, following  the Danish government’s response to Israel’s genocide7 in Gaza, which has escalated since 7 October 2023. The many months of televised and live-streamed human rights violations and  horrors (8) in Gaza have led a great amount of citizens in Denmark to mobilise into a popular movement, demanding the Danish government condemn Israel's actions and call for an  immediate ceasefire, to stop all cooperation with institutions and companies in Israel, to halt  the export of Danish military technology to Israel, and to recognise Palestine as a state.

Gathered in record-sized demonstrations with banners, drums, and chants, activists and citizens have protested outside government buildings, the Israeli Embassy in Copenhagen, the Danish Broadcasting Corperation (DR), and Danish companies that produce and sell  military technology to Israel or that form the infrastructure for arms trading with Israel, such  as technology and weapons manufacturer Terma and logistics company Maersk. Students  occupied The Secret Garden at the University of Copenhagen to appeal for dialogue with the university about its cooperation with educational institutions in Israel. Activists went on hunger strikes to gain the politicians' attention outside the Danish Parliament. Artists held demonstrations in front of culture institutions. Many have written emails to elected officials  and signed several citizens petitions. Many have authored articles, and written directly to  politicians' social media profiles, and attempted to call them out by tagging them in posts and  stories. In short, there have been numerous attempts from citizens to get the Danish  government to listen and act, and to be held accountable for the Danish government’s  complicity in the genocide and human rights violations that are being inflicted on Palestinians. 

Some protests have challenged the norms of public debate directly, by producing sound (or noise, depending on who is listening), such as chants, on a dynamic level that is greater  than the speech of politicians present. This happened for example at the International  Worker’s Day on May 1st 2024, where the noise produced by protesters through horns,  flutes and chants interrupted the speech given by Minister of Justice Peter Hummelgaard in Fælledparken, Copenhagen. In response to this incident, Hummelgaard later accused the  protesters of being “un-Danish” and “anti-democratic” (Ritzau 2025). Similar comments were made by Minister of Foreign Affairs Lars Løkke in May 2024, when Løkke was interrupted,  during a visit to the University of Copenhagen, by protesters who called for the minister to  stop Denmark's weapons exports to Israel. About the interruption, the minister later posted on social media: "We must never stop talking to each other in Denmark" (Løkke 2024). In  regards to these two episodes, it should be noted that the public movement in large had tried  to engage Løkke and the rest of the Danish government in dialogue for months, using  various conventional and creative methods, as described above. When protestors calling for  a ceasefire disrupted the speech of Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen, at the  International Women’s Day at the music venue Vega in Copenhagen in March 2024, the  situation was described as “uncomfortable” (utryg) by Minister for Culture Jacob Engel Schmidt. Both Engel-Schmidt and Frederiksen later decried in public the method of the  protestors and did not engage with their political message. 

These disruptive measures, such as noise as resistance, are embraced by protesters (=  citizens) due to the lack of listening, response and accountability from the Danish  government (= elected officials representing the citizens). Their message is backed by  researchers, NGOs and critical media, who have pointed out the Danish state’s responsibility to The Declarations of Human Rights and its complicity with Israel’s illegal warfare. For  example, Danish companies have contributed with parts for Israeli fighter jets, with the approval of the authorities and the government, according to Danwatch and Dagbladet Information (9). In March 2024, Amnesty International Denmark, Oxfam Denmark, Mellemfolkeligt Samvirke and the Palestinian human-rights organisation Al-Haq sued The  National Police of Denmark and the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs “as there is a clear risk  that weapons and military equipment that Denmark directly and indirectly exports to Israel will be used to commit serious crimes against civilians in Gaza. In doing so, Denmark  violates international arms trade rules and risks becoming complicit in violations of  international humanitarian law – including war crimes – and a plausible genocide” (Amnesty  International 2024). The protesters, who cause disruption and inconvenience through  various means of expression, are doing so from a position of citizens asking for  accountability from the elected officials on the background of transgressions of human rights  conventions and breach of humanitarian law. This is relevant context to repeat, as there  have been a tendency of public media and politicians to decry and dismiss the protesters  themselves, often highlighting the forms of expression of protest and not the context for it.

Although Danish politicians and commentators do not always specifically use the word  hygge, we see instances of tryghed (comfort) being politicised in the same vein as hygge; voices of dissent accused of creating discomfort (utryghed), of being disturbing and even encouraging terror (10). These comments often refer to norms of participation and expression, and generally unspecified “Danish values”, that fits with essential learnings about hygge: do not create discomfort and do not cause disturbance. To reiterate, “socially acceptable” forms of protest have taken place, as mentioned earlier in this paper, such as regular marches, conventional debating and letters to politicians. But these have arguably had little or very  late effect on political action. While commentary and reactions that decry dissidents or accuse protesters of practicing anti-democracy are abundant, it is harder to find signs of  acknowledgement that other forms of democratic participation have already been attempted. 

This positions dissident voices in auditory poverty, a term from Nina Dragicevic’s essay Auditory Poverty and its Discontents, in which she reveals the dynamics of sounding and  listening as class relations: interpretation of sounding is based on the (perceived) social  position of the sounding subject, and possessing audibility – the potential to be listened to – is influenced by class structures and cultural norms. The sounding subject, the sonic citizen,  who can also appear as part of a group, might be limited in terms of both the content of their  sounding, as well as the attention given to it, which is both anticipated and situationally  allocated. This sounding is vulnerable to dispossession, as “both content and space are  regulated by the listener’s power position, which is to say, they are regulated by the listener’s grasp of the speaking subject’s relative social position” (Dragicevic 2024: 41). Audibility, in  this context, does not end at ‘being heard’, as in being noticed, but requires a certain  attention and interest by the listener. Without this attention, the voices are in effect inaudible, and without substantial response from the listener, the voices are stripped of their agency  and forced to not belong. Researcher and artist Budhaditya Chattopadhyay describes this as  a process of unlistening, where not-responding becomes “a political tactic employed to undermine the integrity of the sender/speaker and his/her/their vociferous  voice” (Chattopadyay and Flügge 2025: 60). Unlistening, as a tactic of not-responding, continues Chattopadhyay, “treats the sender as pure noise – unwanted, and without having a  significant identity of their own” (Chattopadyay and Flügge 2025: 60). 

By focusing on the tone and atmosphere in which political participation is expressed, and  referring to notions of tryghed and hygge, a form of auditory disciplining of the public is  exercised. At one level, dissident voices are registered unintelligible if the way in which their  protest is expressed diverges from select cultural norms – norms that, as argued in this  paper, are heavily informed by hygge and elevated to the status of national value. At another  level, demands for dissident expressions to adhere to these norms serves to marginalise  some voices as unwelcome and noisy agitators, and expresses to the general public that  these people transgress the socially acceptable and are themselves unacceptable – they  might not even belong to the national community, as they have “not embraced our Danish values” (Arbejderen 2023). In contemporary Denmark, these voices often belong to political  protesters, notably pro-Palestine and anti-genocide protesters, and climate change- and left  wing activists, whose activities are deemed too disruptive to be listened to. 

(Dis)comfortable Politics 

If conflict avoidance is a central characteristic of hygge, in which societal problems and  injustices (or, to frame these slightly differently, as complex predicaments (11 ) are ignored; if they are perceived as something-out-there-that-has-nothing-to-do-with-us (portrayed in  Abell’s theatre play as a voice in the radio that we close our ears to); how do citizens then  speak of injustice, genocide, fascism, or climate breakdown, the violence and pain that these  crisis cause and the accountability they call for, if the idealised form of togetherness demand  that they do not bring it up, for the sake of maintaining “harmony”? 

To begin to reflect on answers to questions like these, I will now turn towards ideas on  listening and approaches to discomfort, beginning with a reframing of hygge. If, for the purpose of the argument, we cut hygge from its nationalist connotations and contemporary  capitalist appropriations, we can take note from hygge the attention to creating social atmospheres that foster “a relaxed frame of mind" (Hansen 1976: 54). These types of social  moments, of having hygge together, might be the type of moment that Sarah Stein Lubrano writes about in Don’t Talk About Politics – How to Change 21st-Century Minds. In the light of research which suggests that the effect of demonstrations on shifting government policy is  not necessarily as effective as one might think (Archibong 2022), Lubrano argues that  effective political change instead happens in the social interactions and interpersonal  experiences that we are exposed to: “… if we could enable people to interact with a wider  range of people, share their political concerns and explore new activities and ways of living, then they would be in a much better position to reason well about politics” (Lubrano 2025: 16). As opposed to debate culture, or reasoning-as-war (12), which according to Lubrano’s research does not change people’s minds, hygge atmosphere’s emphasis on informal  sociality might potentially provide fertile ground for exposure to differences. 

However, this hygge atmosphere is still haunted by the pressures to not “ruin" or “spoil” the  mood, by relying on its participants to stay on the surface and avoid radical topics, with the intent to avoid feelings of discomfort. To embrace the emotions that arise from conversations  about complex predicaments, like feeling unease from exposing bias, privileges, entitlements and complicity in systems of injustice and harm, a different attitude to discomfort in this context needs to be embraced too. I take guidance from Vanessa Machado de Oliveira in Hospicing Modernity: Facing Humanity’s Wrongs and the Implications for Social Activism, in which she breaks down the pillars of systems of harm, challenges archetypes of cognitive dissonance, and urges us to unlearn belief systems and expand our  capacity to hold space for difficult things. Discomfort, in Oliveira’s work, functions as a  natural emotion on the path to accountability: 

“Intellectual accountability is about facing the truth behind our denials and projections;  sitting with our complicity in harm; shedding arrogance and accepting accountability  without seeking recognition, redemption, innocence, or purity. Existential surrender is  about interrupting addictions and business as usual, confronting fragilities, learning to compost personal and collective shit, and relinquishing colonial entitlements. Existential  accountability is about staying present to what is real and painful, centering the living  metabolism, integrating medicines, and choosing to grow up. Intellectual surrender is  about discernment, learning to let go, tapping collective exiled capacities, developing  metabolic literacies, dissolving individuality and separability, and enabling a bio intelligence to guide us. Intellectual surrender is not about surrendering the intellect, but  about surrendering the imprints of colonialism that frame our interpretations of reality so  that the land can dream through us. This requires us to use our intellect to exercise  discernment and stay vigilant against fantasies, projections, and distractions.” (Machado  de Oliveira 2021: 238) 

Without ignoring hygge’s history, and through daring to envision for something more than  just a moment of respite from the complexities and demands of living in late capitalism, we  might re-purpose the atmosphere from hygge to develop a different social acoustic; an  atmosphere, as practiced by those who see themselves as politically active and aware: a space for radical listening and collective self-interrogation, such as restorative justice circles, feminist consciousness raising groups, and other self-organised activities of similar kind. Here, the objective can be “to build stamina to hold space for difficult and painful things without feeling overwhelmed, immobilised, or wanting to be rescued from the  discomfort..” (Machado de Oliveira 2021: 26). Not a safe space, but a brave space  (Mohamed Taib 2021), that in intentional ways encourages witnessing the discomfortable  emotions that might arise from exploring and acknowledging complicity in systems of harm and injustice, and aspires towards taking accountability and action against the complex  predicaments of polycrisis that we are in. Atmospheres that can support critical and resilient  communities, and withstand the pressures of socio-cultural censoring and self-censorship, which is crucial, both to combat authoritarianism now and to create a vision for an existential  accountability of the future. 

Coda 

Whichever way history unfolds beyond the time in which I am writing this (late 2025 to early  2026), it is clear that the events that we have witnessed since October 2023 will be studied  into the future. However, right now, genocides are not over, and authoritarianism is not a thing of the past. The rupture in the faith in the Danish state and other Western nations to  honour ideals such as human rights and humanitarian law, is being chronicled by many, such  as novelist and journalist Omar El Akkad’s ‘One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This’, and artist Mikkel Rohde Skovlunde, who, in an essay about Danish nationalism, writes: “… what happens to our sense of community when we discover that our  state – and our tax dollars – is an active part of the problem?” (Skovlunde 2025).  

At the end of this paper, awakening from the slumber of hygge, and landing in our current  tangible reality, it should be reminded that learning to listen through feelings of discomfort is a luxury that not all can wait for. There are very real and urgent consequences of the actions  as well as inactions of our governments. One response to Skovlunde’s question is to reach  for more strategies for sensing, organising and activating our communities to create active resistance and resilience – and to listen to those who are already doing so. 

• 1

  A citizens' proposal condemning Israeli war crimes in Palestine reached 56.032 signatures in two days, making it one of the citizens’ proposals that has most rapidly reached the 50.000 signatures needed for the Danish Parlament to consider it. - “Med rekordfart har borgerforslag om støtte til Palæstina sat kurs mod Folketinget”, Altinget, November 1, 2023, https://www.altinget.dk/artikel/med-rekordfart-har-borgerforslag-om-stoette-til-palaestina-sat-kurs-mod-folketinget

• 2

  See “Klimaaktivisme afskrækkes med statsundertrykkelse”, Martin Karlsson Pedersen, Solidaritet.dk, April 12, 2024, https://solidaritet.dk/klimaaktivisme-afskraekkes-med-statsundertrykkelse/ and “Klimaaktivister ved  palæstina-demoer: Politiet møder os med en hårdhed nu, som vi aldrig så ved klima-demonstrationer”, Alberte Skriver, Ingrid Hejslet Larsen and Caroline Lundsteen, Politiken.dk, April 16, 2024, https://politiken.dk/debat/ debatindlaeg/art9851813/Politiet-møder-os-med-en-hårdhed-nu-som-vi-aldrig-så-ved-klima-demonstrationer

• 3

  The law of Jante is not a legal law, but a social code that convey the message: “Don’t think that you are special, don’t think you are better than us, don’t be different, don’t stick out socially”. The 10 commandments of the law of Jante, were formulated by the Danish-Norwegian writer Aksel Sandemose in the novel ‘En Flygtning Krydser Sitt Spor’ (A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks) from 1913. - “Janteloven”, Lex.dk, accessed August 14, 2025, Source: https://lex.dk/Janteloven

• 4
  

  In the debate program Radio 4, chairman of Ung Kult, Simon Skytte, in response to the pro-palestine chants at Roskilde Festival, said: “But listen, it's not at all to distance myself from that conflict and what's going on. But I am also like, when I'm out to hygge at a festival, or I'm sitting and eating a café burger, I just don't need to be reminded of all that all the time.” - “Kulturdebat: Jeff Bezos er den nye adel og Roskilde Festival risikerer at blive til gågaden i Odense”, Radio4, accessed July 17, 2025, https://radio4.dk/podcasts/radio4-debat/kulturdebat-jeff-bezos-er-den-nye-adel-og-roskilde-festival-risikerer-at-blive-til-g-gaden-i-odense.

• 5
  

  Source: Introduction to Kjeld Abell’s script Anna Sophie Hedvig, published by Nyt Nordisk Forlag (1966)

• 6

  Translated from original in Danish: “lytter videre”. In this context, we go on listening refers to a passive form of listening, in which one do not take note of nor engage in what is being heard. 

• 7
  

  At the time of writing the question of whether Israel’s actions in Gaza can be legally categorised as a genocide is still under investigation by the International Criminal Court. However, several human rights violations has so far been observed, and several organisations and researchers have been pointing out the genocidal intent in the actions of the Israeli state. See "UN Special Committee finds Israel’s warfare methods in Gaza consistent with genocide, including use of starvation as weapon of war”, United Nations, November 14, 2024, https://www.ohchr.org/en/press-releases/2024/11/un-special-committee-finds-israels-warfare-methods-gaza-consistent-genocide; "Den Internationale Domstol går videre med sag om folkedrab i Gazastriben”, DR, January 26, 2024, https://www.dr.dk/nyheder/udland/den-internationale-domstol-gaar-videre-med-sag-om-folkedrab-i-gazastriben; “IAGS Resolution on the Situation in Gaza”, International Association of Genocide Scholars, accessed September 1, 2025, https://genocidescholars.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/08/IAGS-Resolution-on-Gaza-FINAL.pdf; “A Threshold Crossed: On Genocidal Intent and the Duty to Prevent Genocide in Palestine”, Journal of Genocide Report, accessed September 1, 2025, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/14623528.2024.2351261

• 8

  Describing what has happened as "horrors" is, of course, an understatement. I use this word here to describe Israel's violations of the Palestinians' human rights and also that which is not as readily registered: the intimate  human traumas, the destruction of culture and nature, and more. The full extent of the damage is not yet fully  revealed, and the effects of Israel's warfare will likely be uncovered far into the future.

• 9

  “Journalister får Cavlingpris for artikler om våbeneksport til Israel”, Tv2, January 9, 2026, https://nyheder.tv2.dk/samfund/2026-01-09-journalister-faar-cavlingpris-for-artikler-om-vaabeneksport-til-israel 

• 10
  

  ”Mette Frederiksen vil have undersøgt, om Gaza-demoer opfordrer til terror”, DR, November 9, 2023, https://www.dr.dk/nyheder/politik/mette-frederiksen-vil-have-undersoegt-om-gaza-demoer-opfordrer-til-terror

• 11
  

  In Hospicing Modernity: Facing Humanity’s Wrongs and the Implications for Social Activism (2021), Vanessa Machado de Oliveiro proposes a change in how we frame “problems” in order to better address the roots of the violence and unsustainability that we experience: “… it may be useful to evoke a distinction between problems (things that can actually or potentially be fixed) and predicaments (things that must constantly be dealt with, won’t be solved, and won’t go away). There is also a difference between something complicated that can be sorted with careful planning or engineering (e.g., a long car trip with toddlers) and something complex that is moving, multidimensional, and largely unruly, unmanageable, and unpredictable (e.g., raising children)”. 30. 

  Machado de Oliveiro describes the tendency to interpret Modernity’s violence and unsustainability “as complicated problems that can be solved rather than complex predicaments that need to be confronted… a substantial amount of time and ressources are invested in addressing the symptoms of violence and unsustainablity rather than their root causes. And even when we look at the root causes, we try to manage them as problems rather than engage with them as complex predicaments”. 30.

• 12
  

  Throughout Don’t Talk About Politics: How to Change 21st-Century Minds, Lubrano uses the term reasoning-as-war to describe contemporary debate culture. About this culture, she states: “The emphasis is not just on convincing others but on beating them by proving the other side wrong definitively, vanquishing them with a counterargument, showing, with great force, not just why your views are better but also why theirs are wrong.” (Lubrano, 2025, 86)