Here’s a question that might make you spit out your tea (or café con leche): Which country is most similar to Britain? If you guessed Denmark, Sweden, or perhaps Canada, you’d be in good company, but the reality points in a different direction.
According to The Economist’s recent analysis of OECD countries, the answer is Spain. Yes, Spain. The same country that many Britons have spent centuries warring with.
As lawyers working across both jurisdictions at Del Canto Chambers, we’ve seen this kinship firsthand. But for many, the idea that Spain and Britain are close cousins comes as a genuine shock. Let’s explore why this relationship makes perfect sense, and why we’ve been looking for family resemblance in all the wrong places.
Why We’ve Been Looking North When We Should Look South
British policymakers have a long-standing obsession with Scandinavian solutions. Denmark for asylum policies, Sweden for green energy, Norway for sovereign wealth management. There’s something seductive about the Nordic model, perhaps it’s the efficiency, the blonde hair, or simply the fact that they speak excellent English.
But here’s the thing: Denmark and Sweden are smaller, richer, happier, more highly taxed, and significantly less religious than the UK. They’re also blessed with natural resources and homogeneous populations that make certain policy solutions easier to implement. Copying Danish cycling infrastructure in London is like trying to transplant Scandinavian minimalism into a Victorian terrace, admirable in theory, challenging in practice.
Similarly, the Canadian comparison, while flattering, misses fundamental differences in geography, population density, and economic structure. Canada has vast natural resources and a fraction of Britain’s population per square mile. And America? Well, despite British politicians’ fascination with baseball metaphors and “stepping up to the plate,” the US operates under entirely different constitutional, healthcare, and social systems.
The Historical Mirror
Spain and Britain share something more profound than policy mechanics: they share historical DNA. Both built vast American empires, justifying their expansion in God’s name while systematically oppressing indigenous populations. Both eventually lost these empires and have spent subsequent centuries working out their place in the world.
More importantly, both are composite monarchies: unions of distinct nations with their own cultures, legal systems, and, crucially, separatist movements. Scotland’s independence movement mirrors Catalonia’s autonomy struggles. Northern Ireland’s complex relationship with the rest of the UK has parallels in the Basque Country’s relationship with Madrid. Wales’ cultural revival echoes similar movements in Galicia and other Spanish regions.
This isn’t just academic history: it shapes how these countries function today. Both governments constantly renegotiate what “together” means, balancing central authority with regional identity in ways that Scandinavian unitary states simply don’t experience.
The Economics of Similarity
Strip away the stereotypes, and the economic data is striking. Spain and Britain have near-matching GDP, productivity levels, and demographic trends. Both economies are services-heavy, both struggle with productivity growth, and both face similar challenges from aging populations and post-industrial transitions.
British investment in Spain is substantial: from banking to infrastructure to renewable energy. Meanwhile, Spanish companies have become central players in UK markets. Santander is one of Britain’s largest banks, while Spanish firms manage significant portions of UK energy infrastructure and transportation networks.
The property markets tell a similar story. British buyers represent one of the largest foreign buyer groups in Spanish real estate, while Spanish investment in London commercial property has grown substantially. This isn’t just about retirement villas on the Costa del Sol: it’s about deeper economic integration and mutual dependence.
The Cultural Connections We Don’t Talk About
Perhaps the most telling similarities lie in national character. Both Spain and Britain harbor the quiet conviction that their language is the one the world should adopt: and both are equally wrong in the face of American English and Latinoamerican Spanish dominance and growing influence.
Both nations have mastered the art of dry humor and elevated complaining to a national sport. The British genius for grumbling about weather, trains, and politicians finds its match in Spanish expertise at critiquing everything from bureaucracy to football referees. As dual citizen Nacho Casajús noted in The Economist piece: “We always believe that something is wrong, and we learn to live with it.”
This isn’t pessimism: it’s a sophisticated form of social bonding through shared exasperation. Both cultures use complaint as a way of building solidarity while maintaining a fundamental resilience that keeps things functioning despite the constant criticism.
Language and Understanding
The language factor is more significant than it first appears. Three decades ago, German was three times as popular as Spanish among British GCSE students, and French nine times as popular. Today, Spanish is more studied than either. This shift reflects not just practical career considerations but a growing cultural affinity.
British tourists visit Spain twice as much as France, their traditional holiday destination. This isn’t just about sunshine and cheap flights: it’s about finding a place that feels both foreign and familiar. The relaxed attitude to time, the importance of family meals, the balance between formality and warmth: these resonate with British sensibilities in ways that Scandinavian efficiency or German precision don’t quite match.
What This Means for the Globally Minded
For expats, investors, and anyone thinking internationally, recognizing this kinship has practical implications. British professionals often find Spain more culturally adaptable than expected, while Spanish professionals in London discover familiar social rhythms beneath the surface differences.
Legal practitioners working across both systems find interesting parallels in approach and philosophy, even as the technical details differ significantly. Both legal systems value precedent and practical outcomes over pure theoretical consistency. Both have evolved through pragmatic accommodation rather than revolutionary reconstruction.
For businesses expanding internationally, understanding these cultural similarities can inform strategy. The relationship patterns that work in one market often translate surprisingly well to the other, once you adjust for language and regulatory differences.
The Family Resemblance
The comparison shouldn’t surprise anyone who’s spent significant time in both countries. Both have produced global languages through imperial expansion. Both struggle with post-imperial identity while maintaining cultural confidence. Both are democracies that somehow function despite constant political drama and media hand-wringing about national decline.
Both countries also share a talent for punching above their weight culturally: British music and Spanish cinema, British financial services and Spanish renewable energy, British higher education and Spanish gastronomy. These are countries that remain globally relevant not through resource wealth or population size, but through creativity, adaptability, and soft power.
Perhaps most tellingly, both countries inspire deep affection from outsiders precisely because they’re imperfect. The chaos is part of the charm. Things don’t always work smoothly, but somehow they work authentically. There’s humanity in the dysfunction that the more efficient northern European models sometimes lack.
Looking Forward
As The Economist notes, if British policymakers were to look at Spain seriously, they’d see a rapidly growing economy with a refreshingly pragmatic attitude toward immigration: both sharp contrasts to current British trends. Spain has managed to integrate significant immigration flows while maintaining social cohesion, something Britain has struggled with despite stricter policies.
The lesson isn’t that Spain has all the answers: it’s that looking at genuinely similar countries provides more relevant insights than studying systems that operate under fundamentally different constraints.
For those of us working across both jurisdictions, this kinship isn’t news: it’s daily reality. The challenge now is helping both countries recognize what they have in common and learn from each other’s successes and failures. After all, as the saying goes, you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family. And whether we like it or not, we’re stuck with each other: which, given the alternatives, isn’t such a bad thing.
