There is a distinctly Danish tendency. We travel out into the world, observe solutions that work exceptionally well, and then, rather than buying or adopting them, we return home convinced that we can engineer something better ourselves.
At its best, this instinct has served us well. Denmark has a strong tradition of engineering, craftsmanship, and practical problem solving. We value understanding over blind adoption, ownership over dependency, and solutions that fit our reality rather than a global average. But at its worst, this same instinct leads us to reinvent the wheel, often ending up with something more complex, more expensive, and objectively worse.
Learning Abroad, Building at Home
The pattern is familiar. We go abroad to study best practices. We visit other countries, examine their systems, admire how smoothly things work, and return inspired. Yet somewhere between inspiration and implementation, something shifts.
The question is no longer “How do we adopt this?”
It becomes “Surely we can build something even better.”
Not because the existing solution is flawed, but because building feels like the more serious engineering choice.
The Norwegian License Plate Example
Take Norway as an example. There, we see a well functioning system for reading license plates from passing cars. It works reliably at highway speeds, up to 135 km per hour. It is proven, operational, and already scaled across real infrastructure.
In many countries, this would lead directly to procurement.
In Denmark, it often triggers a different reaction.
Instead of buying the solution, discussions begin about camera placement, shutter speeds, edge processing, AI models, and data pipelines. Architects sketch alternative designs. Someone points out that the Norwegian system is good, but not quite right for us. Before long, buying is no longer on the table. Engineering is.
This is not driven by arrogance. It is driven by curiosity and confidence. We want to understand why it works, not just that it works. And once we understand it, we feel compelled to improve it, even if the improvement is marginal, theoretical, or irrelevant to the user.
Sometimes that leads to innovation. Sometimes it leads to systems that are slightly better in one narrow dimension and significantly worse in every other.
Public Transport and the Suica Lesson
The same story plays out in public transportation.
In Japan, Suica is close to perfect. You tap in, you tap out. It works instantly. It works everywhere. It works across operators, cities, and even outside transportation, including vending machines, kiosks, and convenience stores. It is so reliable and intuitive that you barely notice it exists.
That is precisely why it works.
Instead of adopting or licensing a system like Suica, we choose to build our own. Committees are formed. Governance models are defined. Procurement rules are followed. Stakeholders negotiate interfaces and responsibilities. Years pass.
The result is a uniquely Danish system. Custom engineered, heavily governed, and substandard in almost every practical way.
It is slower.
It is less intuitive.
It works in fewer places.
It fails more often.
And it requires explanations that Suica never needs.
No one sets out to build something worse. The intention is always good. Local adaptation, fairness, data protection, and regulatory compliance. But in optimizing for organizational complexity, we sacrifice the one thing that matters most, the user experience.
Suica optimizes for flow. People move. Barriers disappear. Technology stays invisible. Our systems, by contrast, often optimize for institutional boundaries, political compromises, and governance structures. The traveler becomes secondary.
When Engineering Becomes the Problem
Engineering is not just about adding capability. It is about restraint. Knowing what not to build. Knowing when a problem is already solved well enough that solving it again adds no value.
Denmark’s strength lies in its ability to build things that fit real needs. But that strength becomes a weakness when we refuse to acknowledge excellence elsewhere. There is a quiet arrogance in assuming that something proven at massive scale can always be improved by starting from scratch.
Sometimes the most intelligent engineering decision is not to engineer at all.
Finding the Balance
This is not an argument against building. It is an argument for discernment.
Build when the problem is unsolved.
Build when the context is truly unique.
Build when innovation creates real, measurable value.
But when a system already works, at scale, under pressure, and for millions of users, have the humility to adopt it. Improve around it. Integrate with it. Learn from it.
Because excellence does not always come from invention. Sometimes it comes from recognizing that the hard work has already been done.
Until we learn that distinction, we will continue to admire working systems abroad and return home to engineer solutions that look impressive on diagrams but fall short in everyday life. I sincerely hope that we will be able to break the pattern “Danish Sickness Pitfall” and truly harvest on experiences from the world, solutions which are proven and will work day one.
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