(Bloomberg Opinion) -- Here’s a bizarre tale of two Germanies, as told in just one pair of new book titles. One jacket cover promises to reveal “Why the Germans Do it Better.” The other rhetorically asks Germans whether they’ve already “Missed the Future.”
It’s a dichotomy I’ve observed throughout my life as a dual citizen of the U.S. and Germany, having lived in both places as well as the U.K. and Asia. From the outside, Germany often looks enigmatically strong, orderly or even enlightened. From the inside, it can appear hopelessly behind, calcified and often benighted — and probably on the verge of terminal decline.
These conclusions often say more about the observers than the observation. Among those especially in awe of Germany are the Brits (as in the first book example above). After decades of “two-world-wars-and-one-world-cup” and all that, they eventually had to admit that even Krauts occasionally get things right, and that can lead to inferiority complexes. Notably, the U.K. has botched its response to the Covid-19 pandemic, whereas Germany (at least so far) is clinging to a modicum of control.
As for the domestic Cassandras, one could list stereotypes to explain the reigning pessimism. Intellectually, Germans find the dark side more interesting than the bright. Historically, many feel shame about the Holocaust, which makes them sheepish about any patriotic gloating, soccer excepted. And although they don’t lack humor as categorically as Brits imagine, Germans do struggle with irony, as I investigated here. That makes it harder for them to savor contradictions.
But what about the substance of the opposing arguments? Both insiders and outsiders often start with the notorious German obsession with rules. Surely this explains some of that vaunted orderliness. Or does it?
If Covid contagion is slower than elsewhere in Europe, for example, it could be because Germans wear their masks more obediently than their more individualistic neighbors do. Then again, Germany also had some of the largest demonstrations in Europe of people defiantly flouting the rules on masks and social distancing.
Similar contradictions run throughout German life. One harrowing initiation rite for expats is their first contact with the Orwellian-named Ordnungsamt (Department of Order), informing them of various violations — from their parking and waste separation to their children’s noise during regulated hours.
At the same time, German enforcers somehow keep missing the biggest scandals. One example was the systematic cheating by German carmakers on diesel emissions (first prosecuted in 2015 in the U.S. rather than Germany). Another was the recent disappearance of billions from the balance sheet of the country’s leading fintech company (first investigated by Britain’s Financial Times).
In Brussels, too, Germans are notorious for lecturing other countries for flouting the rules, usually on budgeting. Meanwhile, Germany itself is currently the target of 87 European Union infringement proceedings. The kindest conclusion from any honest reckoning is that Germans are like everybody else: keen to enforce rules … when it suits them.
What about Germany’s decentralized governance? That’s certainly different from centralized Britain or France. But in the equally federal U.S. this year, decentralization has led to chaos in fighting the pandemic. So the peculiarity, if there is one, is that Germany tempers federalism with a deep postwar tradition of consensus-driven decision making — perfectly embodied by Chancellor Angela Merkel — that eschews American-style dramatization and polarization — consummately typecast in President Donald Trump.
But this striving for consensus also has its dark sides: conformism and resistance to change. In the plus column, the resulting German mentality produces fertile biotopes of medium-sized and family-owned firms, the so-called Mittelstand, that manufacture some obscure widget, generation after generation and with world-beating reliability. In the minus column, the same attitudes explain Germany’s aversion to risk, iconoclasm and blue-sky innovation.
This is what the domestic Cassandras (as in the second book title above) tend to pick up on. The future, from biotech to artificial intelligence, is always being invented somewhere else, usually Silicon Valley or perhaps Shanghai or nearby Estonia. Germany, by contrast, lags behind not only in traditional service sectors but also and especially in digital transformation. Last week, my accountant requested my permission to send invoices by email. I had to agree by signing in ink on paper.
All these factors combined solve the puzzle of the conflicting book titles. Germany is an economy, society and culture that is remarkably good at cushioning blows, but at the cost of forsaking reinvention and adaptation. This year’s economic measures against the corona-recession are another case in point.
Other German institutions reinforce this pattern. Take the country’s venerable tradition of vocational training, admired even by Ivanka Trump. It may be good at cranking out highly skilled workers for one specific career niche at a locally based employer. But it’ll do nothing to prepare young Germans for the continuous disruption of the Fourth Industrial Revolution and the need for lifetime learning.
An interviewer once asked Merkel what she thinks about when she hears the word “Germany.” She reflected, then answered: “Airtight windows.” As with many such zen koans by this understated chancellor, the simplicity was deceptive. Yes, Germany makes excellent windows; I’m sitting next to proof right now. But the demonstrative banality of the example really pointed to something else. If Germany is unusual, it’s in having learned from history that “exceptionalism” is not just wrong, it’s dangerous.
Germany today is neither the best nor the worst at anything. It’s a country that has overcome its past, which the British historian A.J.P. Taylor in 1945 described as having “everything except moderation … and everything except normality.” Today’s Germany is so normal, it’s boring. To me that makes it the best Germany that’s ever existed.
This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
Andreas Kluth is a columnist for Bloomberg Opinion. He was previously editor in chief of Handelsblatt Global and a writer for the Economist. He's the author of "Hannibal and Me."
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