ANDERS BORG is pressed for time. Sweden’s finance minister, a tall, ebullient man with a ponytail and an earring, is required before Parliament. He grimaces at the prospect: reforms to Sweden’s budgetary process have made Mr Borg’s job more powerful, leading to greater scrutiny. “But of course it’s not as horrible as the House of Commons,” he grins. “It’s not that big an ordeal.”

He is right. Compared with red-in-tooth-and-claw Westminster, Swedish politics even at its most cantankerous is like a gentle disagreement among friends. Nothing repels Swedish voters like aggressive politicians. Given Sweden’s history of coalition governments—including the current one, led by Fredrik Reinfeldt, leader of the centrist Moderate Party—they are also practised collaborators. Over the past two decades governments led by the leftist Social Democrats or the Moderates have introduced—with cross-party support—reforms to Swedish education, health care, pensions and tax. These have made a rich and well-run country even more so: on any ranking of national wealth, health and happiness Sweden comes close to the top.

No wonder many British politicians look longingly at Sweden. Its reform process was sparked, in the early 1990s, by a financial and debt crisis; Britain is suffering similarly. In Mr Reinfeldt, who has presided over Sweden since 2006, David Cameron, Britain’s Conservative prime minister, sees a kindred spirit. Both sought to bring their parties closer to the centre; both abhor the European Union’s wastefulness. One of Mr Cameron’s first celebratory phone calls on the night of his 2010 election victory—which led to him forming a coalition government with the Liberal Democrats—was to Mr Reinfeldt. He has since sought closer ties with Sweden, including via an annual summit of Britain and Nordic and Baltic countries—the Northern Future Forum—which was held in Riga last month.

Ed Miliband is also looking northward. On a tour of Denmark, Sweden and the Netherlands last month the Labour leader, a self-described European social democrat, made no effort to hide his crush on Sweden. He is especially interested in its superb child care, which has encouraged 78% of Swedish women to work (as opposed to 70% of women in Britain). “Just arriving at Swedish Parliament building, passing two Swedish fathers with pushchairs. Scandinavian scene,” tweeted Mr Miliband blissfully. When he briefly went missing at Stockholm airport, aides joked that he must have claimed asylum.

These British Swede fanciers, from both left and right, mostly see only what they want to. The Tories revere Sweden’s success in cutting taxes (albeit from throttlingly high rates). Yet they underestimate the importance of the equality that is a precondition for Sweden’s reforms, according to Mr Borg: “If you’re not able to keep your society together you will have conflicts which will undermine your legitimacy.” Labour slavers over the excellence of Sweden’s public services. Yet it pays too little heed, Mr Borg suggests, to the fiscal discipline that all Sweden’s main parties preach. “If you want to run a big welfare state you need to run surpluses in good times,” he says. “That was a huge difference between the Swedish Social Democrats and the Labour Party. Ours were far more prudent in terms of fiscal policy.”

Mr Borg also has advice for his British counterpart, George Osborne. In the run-up to his budget speech due on March 20th, Mr Osborne is under pressure from right-wingers to slash taxes. This would emulate Mr Borg’s expansionary response to the global financial crisis, which was successful. But Sweden could cut taxes in the midst of recession because of the strength of its balance sheet. Mr Osborne is far more constrained. “I think he has done the right thing by being very focused on restoring macroeconomic credibility,” says Mr Borg. “Otherwise Britain could be in a much, much worse position.”

He clearly enjoys handing down policy to the Brits. Mr Borg is an Anglophile, like many high-flying Swedes, who are often astonishingly well-informed about Britain. Quietly bored by their own agreeable politics, many also revel in Britain’s traditions of majority government, bold political leadership and parliamentary theatre. “The language Boris Johnson uses! It’s so rich!” marvels one Swedish wonk. Sweden’s media scrutinise British elections more closely than those of any other country, save Norway, which many Swedes recall having once owned. They also adore the British royal family—so much more floridly dysfunctional than their own low-key royals. The conclusion is inescapable: Swedes are far more enamoured with Britons than the other way round. “From the Swedish side, it’s a permanent love affair—and now and again we get a response from your side,” says Sweden’s ambassador to Britain, Nicola Clase, with a shy smile.

A boringly successful bunch

That pattern is likely to endure. British politicians are too busy arguing with each other to stay focused on Sweden for long. They also invariably conclude that the two countries are too different for Britain to take much from Sweden. But this is mistaken in an important regard. Westminster bear-pit politics only work so long as one party has a majority. Otherwise, as Mr Cameron is now finding, as he fights to keep his party and coalition intact, the system becomes unworkable. And what the Tory leader is experiencing may be the future: the British vote is splintering, which will make unaccustomed coalition rule more likely.

To cope, British politicians will need to pick up more than the odd snazzy policy from Sweden’s governmental smorgasbord. They must learn the Swedish habit of collaboration, and the spirit of pragmatism that informs it. Only then will they regain public trust, which they have lost entirely, and Swedish politicians have in abundance. In a time of political change, British politicians need to shout less and become, like their Swedish counterparts, more co-operative, more efficient and a little bit more boring.

Economist.com/blogs/bagehot