Estonian Lessons

by Ross Allen

Near the top of most international league tables comes a surprising name: Estonia. This small country has many brilliant achievements to its name which can and should inspire the rest of the world: top globally in both environmental performance and human rights; the second-biggest per capita donor to Ukraine, after Denmark; second globally in digital government; home to more tech unicorns per capita than any other state; and boasting the best exam results in Europe. Estonia has the best tax system (seven years in a row!) and the world’s most performed living classical composer. All underpinned by a deep commitment to freedom.

Ross Allen, UK Ambassador in Tallinn and a fluent Estonian-speaker, explores how this country has come to excel in so many fields, and what the rest of the world could learn from it. He offers insights from his diplomatic work, but also shares his embrace of local culture, from song festivals to smoke saunas. Having travelled across Estonia’s towns, villages, islands and bogs, his understanding of and enthusiasm for this relatively obscure country shine through.

With elements of travel, history, geography and international politics, this highly enjoyable book will make you see Estonia and the Baltics in a new light.

Genres: Nonfiction

256 pages, Hardcover

Published May 7, 2026

Reviews

[Alan (The Lone Librarian) Teder]

Lessons Learned
A review of the Hurst Publishers hardcover (UK May 7, 2026).

Under the Soviets, Estonians demonstrated an incredible will to endure, to protect their identity, culture and language, and to regain their freedom. When the world is in such turmoil, resolve like this offers a lesson to us all. It is one reason Estonians and Ukrainians have so much mutual respect.

I'll say right off the bat that this will be a totally biased review from this Canadian of Estonian heritage. I was so eager to read this book that I ordered a copy of the UK edition as soon as it was published. The North American edition won't be available until August 1, 2026.

The author is not exactly unbiased either. Ross Allen was the UK Ambassador to Estonia for a 5-year term from June 2021 to June 2026. Estonian Lessons is his memoir of that time spent in Estonia. Rather uniquely, he actually began to learn how to speak Estonian when he heard that he would be assuming that diplomatic position. That is not a requirement in the diplomatic world where translators will assist diplomats. The extra downtime during COVID in 2020-21 allowed for that study via Zoom lessons.

In chapters covering everything from everyday life to ground-breaking technology, from sauna culture (including ice swimming) to singing at the massive Estonian song festival, from learning how to pronounce Estonian vowels to joining a local Estonian choir, to traveling the country and speaking to students, soldiers, regular people etc. Ross Allen covers just about everything Estonian that you can think of. I had many quotes that I enjoyed which I included in status updates which you can read below or here if you are reading outside of GR.

Allen displays a personable and self-deprecating humour in his stories which often found him in 'fish-out-of-water' circumstances where he had to speak Estonian off-the-cuff without preparation or learn that he would have to go nude in order to enjoy an Estonian home sauna and not offend his host with a refusal. Probably my favourite quote was about the pronunciation of the Estonian vowel õ:

Then there is the sound õ, which almost defies description. The best way I came up with to explain how to make this sound is to put your teeth together and then make the noise a child would make if you put a plate of really disgusting food down in front of him, a bit like 'urgh' but with your teeth together.

Trivia and Links
The book's cover image is a photo by Marko Pilliroog of an Estonian Starship Technologies delivery robot travelling along one of the raised wooden walkways of an Estonian bog. That is not a regular delivery route, but the photo was staged in order to combine an image of Estonia's advanced technology with Estonian's love of nature.

Ross Allen gave somewhat of an "exit interview" to Estonian Public Television where he spoke entirely in Estonian. You can watch the Estonian language interview here. It is not subtitled, but you can read an English language translation here.

Soundtrack

The most affecting song is 'Ta lendab mesipuu poole', meaning 'He/she flies to the beehive'. This is a song also performed at most state events to remember the thousands of Estonians killed and deported in World War II, so as an ambassador I heard it quite often, and it is simply a beautiful piece of music, with lyrics about Estonians outside Estonia longing to be home.

I obviously couldn't resist listening to Ta lendab mesipuu poole with music (1993) by Peep Sarapik and text (1905) by Juhan Liiv. See the performance from the 2025 Estonian Song Festival "Iseoma" (Myself Mine) where Ross Allen was part of the choir on YouTube here.
Read more about Estonian poet Juhan Liiv (1864-1913) at an essay "The Bee and the Lamb" by Takuan Seiyo at the New English Review here from 2011.

Appendix
In case the above link is no longer working in the future, this is the opening text of Takuan Seiyo's essay "The Bee and the Lamb" about Estonian poet Juhan Liiv.

The Bee and the Lamb (Part 1)
by Takuan Seiyo (November 2011)
The bee in its host

On a freezing day in late November 1913, an indigent with a sorrow-etched face and no topcoat was ejected in a wilderness area from a train headed from Estonia to Warsaw. He had no ticket, for he could not afford one. An eighth child of a dirt-poor Estonian peasant, the outcast was on his way to claim the throne of Poland to which he was convinced he was the rightful heir.

Juhan Liiv, for that was the madman’s name, walked back home through the Baltic swamps and woodlands in the sub-zero frost of the harsh northern winter. It took several days and must have been a major ordeal, for he had a weak and sickly constitution. As a great lover of Estonia’s soil and soul, to ease the misery perhaps he was humming a little poem he’d written in 1905 about a bee heading back home: “It Flies Toward the Beehive” (Ta lendab mesipuu poole).

By the time Liiv reached shelter at his brother’s rural house, he was ready to die. Which he did, destitute, lonely and mentally ill, on December 1, 1913.

Hardly anyone knew or cared; since childhood, Liiv’s sensitivity and fragile mental state evoked little more than teasing from his peers. He had had one love, but penury, fragile health and mental imbalance, of which he was aware, forced him to shy away from the woman in order to love her penumbra from afar, in letters and poems.

Born in 1864 in a hut and only two generations removed from serfdom, Juhan Liiv had worked for a while as a provincial journalist, but continuous ill health forced him to retire to a life of solitary brooding and poverty from the time he was 28. He wrote some short stories, of which one was published in his lifetime. By 1894, his schizophrenia led to an internment in an asylum in Tartu. Released uncured, he spent the rest of his life leading a semi-vagrant existence in his remote native area.

His mind could no longer handle the long form, so he wrote short poems. The poems were simple but rhythmic, full of imagery and metaphor from nature. Many were autobiographical, reflecting sadly on his fate, on loss, loneliness and disappointment in love. Others were an expression of love for his country, with titles like “I Saw Estonia Yesterday” and “Who Does Not Remember the Past (is Living Without the Future).”

Liiv’s simplicity and realist imagery were discordant with the prevailing taste. The few who knew of his solitary labor in the woods didn’t care for it. Appreciation started a decade later, when a collection of his poems was published in 1909. But by then, he had already lived his life and was, at least in his head, on his way to assume the throne of Poland on the days when he wasn’t Czar Alexander.

Today, Juhan Liiv lies under a grand obelisk, and his humble birthplace in Alatskivi is a museum. He is considered Estonia’s greatest poet of all time. The young read his lines to their loves, and the hurting find in him a balm for their pains.

[Sandra Fomotškin]

Disclaimer: the following reflections come from an Estonian and are therefore strongly biased.

There are some books that try to explain a country, and then there are books that feel like a long conversation with someone who has genuinely fallen in love with a place. That is very much how I felt reading Estonian Lessons.

Ross Allen is the best-known foreign diplomat in Estonia, and I doubt there will be anyone quite like him here again. Knowing that he will soon be leaving Estonia makes this book somewhat emotional to read. It is warm, heartfelt, deeply affectionate and incredibly attentive, reflecting how carefully he has listened to Estonians over the years. The tone is distinctly un-Estonian in its optimism and praise, yet the ideas and narratives inside it feel unmistakably Estonian. It captures remarkably well the stories Estonians tell about themselves: what matters here, what makes this country special, and what people are proud of, even when they do not always say so out loud.

It will be interesting to see how international readers respond to a book that praises Estonia in such superlative terms. But even if it ends up being read mostly by Estonians themselves, it is still a wonderful achievement. Partly because it works as a boost to our self-esteem. But also because it is such an impressively comprehensive portrait of Estonia. The book moves naturally between history, politics, economics, education, culture, language, and everyday life, creating something that feels both broad and personal at the same time. I genuinely cannot think of another book about Estonia that manages to combine all these themes in quite this way.

And of course, I would not be Estonian if I did not add that I do not agree with everything written in the book, and the appendix about what Estonia could learn from other countries could easily have been a separate chapter with many more ideas and examples. But that hardly matters in the bigger picture.

More than anything, this book feels like a gift. So thank you, Ross, for the book and for your work!

[Akshay]

We were in Estonia for a couple of weeks for our annual midsummer trip—Jaanipäev is my favourite holiday of the year—and I was feeling nostalgic, and dare I say, a bit homesick when I got back to London, so when I saw this book displayed at Daunt I immediately picked it up.

I enjoyed seeing Estonia through the eyes of someone who, like me, made it their home for a few years, and is clearly in love with it. It made me feel a wonderful sense of pride and belonging and made me reflect on how this country has become a big part of my life over the last decade. I think you'll enjoy it a lot if you have some connection to Estonia, but even otherwise it's a great introduction—although it is definitely written with rose tinted glasses and does not go into the nuances and complexities of life there.

[Ollie]

Thoroughly enjoyed. Hearing each story brings back such fond memories, thank you Ross!

[Merili]

Nii roosade prillidega pole Eestist vast kunagi kirjutatud. Aga prillid on roosad põhjusega. Eesti vastu huvi tundvale välismaalasele võib julgelt soovitada, saab paremini aru küll. Eestlane saab lugeda, mida elevant meist siis arvab.