RICHARD ORD: Why Swede dreams of Green laundry won't wash with Brits

​Let me explain, in what turns out to be part two of my ‘cultural learnings’ trip to Sweden.

If you tuned in last week, you’ll remember that the Swedes have a pretty pragmatic view on issues that affect their lives. The Russians are on the warpath? Well, let’s issue a booklet showing our citizens how to prepare for war. In Britain, Russian aggression becomes nothing but a talking point. Should we send more aid to Ukraine? Should it be less? Will Trump end the war? Is Starmer too weak on foreign policy? The conversation is endless, and the conclusion is inevitably… nowt.

Despite being an island perilously vulnerable to a targeted Russian nuke, we never really address the issue. If we did have to flee by flotilla—say, in small boats—would our European neighbours welcome us ashore? I have my doubts.

The same pragmatic approach applies to other areas of Swedish life, from booze to laundry.

On booze, the Swedes recognise it as a big social and health problem, so they make it expensive to buy and difficult to obtain (you can’t even buy beer in supermarkets). Suggesting something similar in Britain would cause a social media meltdown, with accusations ranging from infringing civil liberties to covert government mind-control.

And that segues seamlessly into laundry.

Brace yourselves for this little factoid: the majority of Swedes don’t have washing machines. Nope, they have communal laundries instead. It’s painfully logical: it saves money, helps the environment, fosters community, and frees up space in your home.

Everyone can use the communal laundry—you just have to stick to a strict timetable, with the option to reserve unused hours.

But communal laundries don’t just help the environment and foster community—they also provide the perfect excuse to dodge an undesirable social gathering. According to our Swedish host, excuses like illness or ‘my granny’s died’ might earn you a raised eyebrow, but simply saying, ‘Sorry, that’s my laundry slot,’ is met with unquestioning nods of approval. In Sweden, laundry isn’t just a chore; it’s a social shield.

Whether communal laundries would work here, I’m not sure. Suggesting they’re good for the environment would have climate change deniers frothing at the mouth. Any wholesome community venture would quickly descend into passive-aggressive notes about late laundry pickups and full-scale slot wars.

And if the government suggested communal laundries as a common-sense approach to cost-effective green living, they’d be discredited as lefty loonies trying to bring in communism through the back door. It was ever thus…

As The Smiths also once said: ‘Heaven knows I’m miserable now.’ But maybe that’s just because I just realised the laundry needs doing.