Technology has its place in innovation—but we still need the intangible assets that have always worked

In the 1990s, I was invited to give a lecture on northern issues in a small landlocked town in northeastern Finland. I thought my title (“A traditional Saami hay-insulated shoe and a strategic nuclear submarine: What do they have in common?”) would be compelling. I was wrong: it was too provocative to fit the mainstream (southern) notion of high tech and innovation.

But in reality, all Arctic innovations, even today, are not strictly technological in the way that modern societies understand technology—and “high tech” does not have to mean depending on digitalization. From the 1980s to the 1990s, there was an inspiring sense that we were in a “new North” in terms of ideas and innovations, indicating the end of the Cold War: initiatives for disarmament, peace and sustainability. Intangible goods, such as knowledge, as new geopolitical factors. New forums for opening up discussions, building knowledge, and setting in motion the interplay between science and politics.

One of these initiatives is the Calotte Academy, an international travelling symposium to promote interdisciplinary discourse. It was introduced in 1991 in the European Arctic, including Sapmi, the Saami region, to focus on trans-disciplinary discourse on northern issues and engage Indigenous and other northern policy-makers, community leaders and experts. Its nickname, the “school of dialogue,” indicates its focus on inclusive discussion (based on experts’ presentations) as a method of innovation to train early-career scientists.

Now that we are facing great power rivalries and state-centred world politics, with unilateral, competitive, national military security in focus, it might be hard to recall how multiple civil societies, increasingly concerned about the environment and interested in open cross-border cooperation, once pushed the Arctic states to act. Yet some of the outcomes of these initiatives were impressive. For example, there was the pan-Arctic cooperation on environmental protection and science, based on the 1987 Murmansk speech by Mikhail Gorbachev (the final leader of the Soviet Union), and the first Arctic states’ ministerial meeting in 1991. There was also the establishment of the Arctic Council in 1996—a new structure with innovative policy-shaping and -making procedures where representatives of Indigenous Peoples could voice their opinions at the same table as state representatives.

Behind these unorthodox innovations was a spirit based on the will to change. The Arctic region seems to be in a state of constant transformation. Yet somehow, at the same time, the traditions, practices and knowledge that have carried on for centuries continue. Existing at the heart of these opposing influences, and characterized by extreme natural conditions, the Arctic begets and requires flexibility and innovation: the adoption of new ideas, practices, methods and disruptive technologies. The Arctic Yearbook 2017, an innovation in its own right, has argued this.

It is obvious, now that the official pan-Arctic cooperation has been paused, that these initiatives and the resulting (mostly functional) cooperation were not enough. But this problem does not indicate a need for more technology and data. At its heart is the absence of an inspiring atmosphere that would motivate stakeholders to (re)think, move beyond mainstream solutions and do globally what states have done nationally.

The other missing piece is inclusive dialogue in which the participants’ approach is committed and responsive and that focuses on an issue (which is not what happens in traditional policy-oriented conferences). In-person dialogue is still a useful means of generating insight into an issue and turning research into powerful innovations and knowledge.

The Arctic’s future depends on intangible values like these—and peaceful coexistence with nature and neighbours—remaining important, even in this era of globalism.