FOR a useful corrective to the notion that only sunny optimism can win elections, Charlemagne recommends a visit to Finland. Like sauna-goers vigorously lashing themselves with birch branches, Finnish politicians are lining up to talk their homeland down in the run-up to the general election on April 19th. Juha Sipila, leader of the Centre Party and the most likely next prime minister, talks freely of the need to slash public spending. Antti Rinne, the finance minister and head of the Social Democrats, laments Finland’s dire export performance. The biggest dose of gloom, though, comes from Alex Stubb, the centre-right prime minister. Mr Stubb claims to be an “eternal optimist”, but says that Finland has had a “lost decade” and admits that the coalition he has led since June 2014 has often been a failure.

In fairness, Finns have reasons to feel doleful. When people speak of Europe’s troubled “periphery” they usually mean the Mediterranean rim. But Finland may stake an equal claim. It has spent three years in recession. Output and employment are far below pre-crisis levels. And this year only Italy and Cyprus in the euro zone will grow more slowly, according to the IMF’s latest forecasts. Finland has breached the euro-zone deficit limit of 3% of GDP, and will breach the 60% debt limit this year, too. Its economy has been triply whammed: by the collapse of Nokia, a telecoms giant that failed to ride the smartphone wave (and now wants to take over France’s Alcatel, see article); by the worldwide decline of the paper industry; and by troubles with Russia, with which Finland shares a border over 800 miles (1,300km) long. “Blame Steve Jobs and Vladimir Putin,” an official sniffs. Yet Mr Stubb looks a likelier target for voters’ ire.

Such traumas would have drawn little outside attention in previous years. Finnish politics is dull and consensual, and most of the action takes place after elections when coalition deals are done. On fiscal policy, for instance, the main parties disagree only over the pace and composition of austerity, not on its magnitude. But in today’s unsettled times every European election is dissected for its relevance to wider debates. Finland has outsize importance in two of the biggest: how to keep the euro together, and how to tackle Russia’s adventurism.

Greece will prove an early test for the next government. Unlike during the campaign in 2011, which was dominated by Portugal’s woes and the extraordinary rise of Timo Soini’s Eurosceptic True Finns, few parties see electoral advantage in discussing the euro now. But the Greek government’s bail-out expires in June and, without access to capital markets, it will need more help. That will be a hard sell to Finland’s next parliament, whatever its shape. Mr Soini, in particular, will be reluctant to back a third Greek bail-out; four years ago he withdrew from coalition talks on a similar issue. Still, says an official, this time he would “sell his grandmother” to enter government. The betting is that a fudge on Greece will be found to satisfy his party.

Explore our interactive guide to Europe's troubled economies Russia has loomed larger over this election. Age-old Finnish alarm about their giant neighbour was rekindled some years ago, when it started to throw its weight around in the Arctic. Mr Putin’s aggression in Ukraine has spooked the Finns further. A bid to join NATO is not imminent (Finland would not wish to move without Sweden, the other Nordic non-member). But unlike the previous government, the coalition that emerges this time, which may include Mr Soini as foreign minister, will not rule out membership. That alone, says Mr Stubb, sends a signal to Moscow. Defence spending will rise even as other budgets are cut, and co-operation with the other Nordics will intensify. Nor will the next government go soft on the EU’s sanctions against Russia. Indeed, Finnish diplomats have played a shrewd game in Brussels, taking a fairly hard line on Russia but quietly shaping the measures to help ease the burden on their own firms.

A demographic lab rat

So outsiders may breathe easy: the next government is unlikely to capsize the good ship Europe, even with the hefty Mr Soini on board. Yet Europeans have other reasons to watch Finland—because some of its problems will soon be theirs. Above all, its demographic crunch has arrived. Finland’s post-war baby boom was early, short (lasting just a few years) and intense (the birth rate rose more than in other countries). Those baby-boomers are now reaching retirement. Add growing life expectancy and historically low immigration, and Finland is the world’s fastest-ageing country. By 2030 more than a quarter of Finns will be over 65. This will place huge burdens on pension and health-care systems. Age-related costs are already eating up the Finnish budget. It is all starting to look very Japanese.

This has broader relevance, because, as Karl Whelan, an Irish economist, points out, many other European countries will soon face difficulties of a similar kind. By 2030, for example, Germany will have 47 over-65s for every 100 people of working age, up from 31 in 2013, and the picture gets even gloomier after that. Such changes force governments to address thorny issues, from pension reform to boosting immigration. Finland’s leaders understand the problem. Mr Sipila is likely to raise the retirement age and to introduce a modest increase in work-based immigration, for example.

Such measures will do little to lift Finland’s malaise in the short term, and could cause political tremors. Mr Soini, for one, will frown on more liberal immigration when unemployment stands at around 10%. Yet advantages may be wrung from adversity. Finland’s older workers are healthy and educated, and its innovative businesses are well placed to exploit the opportunities an ageing society presents, from new health services to mobile-phone apps. As other, bigger countries age they will be able to learn from Finland—and perhaps to buy some of the goods and services it makes. That might even cheer up the Finns a bit.