Preface: You're Allowed to Defy the Law of Jante

In the heart of Norway, protected, near the Swedish border, lies the small but culturally rich town of Røros. With its charming wooden houses and old copper mines, Røros has proudly raised the “UNESCO World Heritage” shield and made a name for itself far beyond its national borders. The mountain town has retained its authentic charm and historical significance, and I am a proud “Rørosing.”

Through solidarity and cohesion in their closely knit community, built on an open and trustful culture, one might almost call the village of Røros “Typisk Norsk”—typically Norwegian.

It was in Røros where I grew up.

Here in the highlands, I was glued to the TV on January 1, 1992, when then-Prime Minister Gro Harlem Brundtland, with a strong voice, told the whole country in the New Year's address: “The [soccer] girls, the handball girls, the skiing boys, and the Oslo Philharmonic Orchestra: they are at the top of the world. We also want to prove that the Norwegian economy can compete internationally. Do we perhaps need a new motto? Typically to be Norwegian means to be good.”

While other regions and countries are famous for certain things, it is not so easy to find something that can be described as typically Norwegian. Yes, there is brown cheese (Brunost), and Norwegians spend their Easter days at the cabin with the chocolate “Kvikk Lunsj” and their backpacks—but these are just (superfluous) objects. Are there any defining Norwegian values?

As a patriot, I have followed Norway's sporting successes all my life. I have cheered for my fellow countrymen and still watch them on TV today, even though I emigrated 23 years ago. Every 4 years, the Winternation sweeps the medals at the Olympics. But with the advantageous initial conditions—that there is snow at all—it would be presumptuous to label a high-performance culture as “typically Norwegian.” Or is there a hidden secret here?

The interest in “peak performance” was an integral part of my childhood. It wasn't that I had one vision of becoming the world's best; I was more interested in progress. I had “micro-ambitions”: getting a little better every day, participating in every training session, doing something every day myself.

I still remember a time in my life, which now seems almost absurd, when I managed to complete at least one training session for 716 consecutive days—meticulously documented in my training diary. I was obsessed with learning, with making progress, with getting better.

And yet, there's something about the concept of performance (or “high-performance”) that is slightly challenging. High performance can indeed be fascinating, but it can also trigger stress responses and have negative impacts.

For me, performance should be viewed positively, worthy of being highlighted. This book shines a spotlight on performance. It takes its cue from the achievements of athletes who have tapped into this greater potential, and I seek to explore what feats might be achievable through our inherent potential. To substantiate this scientifically, modern research also comes into play.

The vision of being the best in the world is not reprehensible. Striving for perfection can be a powerful motivator. The reality, however, is that we can't all build rockets to take humanity to space, we can't all create software companies that change the world, we can't all win Nobel Prizes, and we can't all stand atop the podium as world champions or Olympic gold medalists in highly competitive sports. It's more about finding the basis for progress tailored to our own standards.

This book is about discovering an inner drive that leads to positive outcomes for ourselves and enables a powerful life, regardless of whether we receive applause. It's about exploring the unlimited potential of each individual—one's own possibilities and capabilities, not just performance itself. At its core, every human being has the potential to change the current culture of how we look at success.

It's about finding the positivity in “performance,” understanding the power of progress, encouraging others, and unleashing one's own potential. It's the quest for the driving force that leads to success and the essence of a positive performance culture that is creative and moves away from ego-boosting and the pursuit of money and medals at any cost.

The Viking Code shows how we can all lead more meaningful lives by rejoicing in our own successes while simultaneously cheering on others to create a conscious culture of learning and progress.

In this book, we dive into the narrative of a modern Viking culture that is not anchored in the past but firmly looks toward the future. It's not about barbaric conquests or daring historical comparisons. Instead, a story unfolds that leads us into a world yet unknown—our future. It's the vision of a positive future based on progress. In business, politics, education, and society, we discover a new compass to guide us: the Viking Code.

Rosenborg, Røros, and Radio Moments

Back before the real birth of the Internet, it was the radio and, of course, TV, where we could draw inspiration from our role models. I spent countless Sundays on the lawn in front of our house listening to my favorite soccer team, Rosenborg from Trondheim, on the radio. The “Go'Fot Theory” (the theory of the preferred foot, which was about playing the other players well) of manager Nils Arne Eggen still shapes a special culture today, immortalized with a statue of the gesticulating and screaming coach in front of the stadium. The highlight was undoubtedly the 2-1 victory in 1996 against AC Milan at the San Siro stadium and the associated advance to the quarterfinals of the Champions League.

I was also glued to the box in 1998. A whole nation cheered for legendary coach “Drillo” with his rubber boots, “Kick-and-Run” strategy, and his “Farmers from the North”—the Norwegian national team—as they knocked Brazil out of the Soccer World Cup. The handball and soccer women, well, they have always been good, and yes, being good at skiing is indeed typical in Norway.

But I wasn't just a spectator. My childhood in Røros was marked by playing all kinds of sports and a will to improve every day. Preparing for a typical Wednesday could include looking for long underwear and a thick hat, cleaning the rifle for the biathlon, filling the sports bag with resin and short pants for the later handball session, and clearing the snow from in front of the garage in order to get to my cross-country skiing, biathlon, and handball lessons. These daily sports activities created a purposeful life in mass and high-performance sports.

Even today, I let myself get carried away and fascinated by typical tasks on regular days. I still firmly believe that activity and sports are an essential part of my career and have led to successes in other areas and that you can learn a lot from playing sports for life.

The Law of Jante: A Pillar of Nordic Humility and Collective Consciousness

My childhood was also shaped by my mother's attitude, rooted in the Scandinavian “Law of Jante,” which can be summed up as follows:

“You shall not believe you are anything.”

Published by the Norwegian-Danish author Aksel Sandemose in his novel A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks, this unwritten social code of conduct traces its origins to the early twentieth century, but its implications resonate far beyond its historical confines.

Sandemose, drawing from his own experiences in the town of Nykøbing Mors in Denmark, immortalized a set of 10 principles that underscore a pervasive sentiment: the community comes before the individual, and one should never believe they are better or more important than anyone else. Though it might seem constraining on the surface, the Law of Jante is a collection of humility, egalitarianism, and unity. It not only influences personal behaviors and relationships but has also carved pathways in the sociopolitical landscapes of Nordic countries.

The Law of Jante...