What a Stone Pillar Can Teach Us About Gratitude
Outside Copenhagen Central Station, on Vesterbrogade, stands Frihedsstøtten, the Freedom Pillar.
Most people who pass it every day never look up. They are on their way to a train, a meeting, a coffee. Yet the monument has stood there since the 1790s, a 20-metre reminder that gratitude is most powerful when it is visible, specific and lasting.
I have started to think of it as Copenhagen's most patient piece of leadership advice. It has been saying roughly the same thing for more than two hundred years, quietly, to anyone who stops long enough to read it.
A thank you carved in stone
In 1788, the Danish government began abolishing stavnsbåndet, the system that bound boys and men of the rural population to the estate where they were born. The restrictions were phased out over the following years as part of wider agricultural reforms.
The gratitude that followed took an unusually concrete form. In 1791, Copenhagen citizens began collecting money for a monument. Crown Prince Frederik laid its foundation stone the following year, and the finished monument was unveiled in 1797.
Its inscriptions celebrate the reforms and their hoped-for consequences: that the free farmer would become brave and enlightened, industrious and good, an honourable citizen, and happy. I find that last word particularly striking: lykkelig, happy.
There is also a less romantic side to the story, and I think it is the most interesting part. The monument was officially an expression of gratitude for the reforms, but historians also point to a political purpose. Parts of the landowning elite were increasingly unhappy with the changes, and the monument became a very public expression of support for the reform programme.
In other words, it was a thank you with a purpose.
It said: we saw what you did, it mattered, and we would like you to keep going. That feels surprisingly relevant to leadership.
What the pillar teaches
The first lesson is that gratitude should be specific. The inscription doesn't simply say, "Thank you for everything." It identifies what was done and why it mattered. That precision turns appreciation into information.
"Great job" is pleasant. "The way you rewrote the client summary meant we could make the decision in ten minutes instead of an hour" is useful. It tells someone exactly what they did that mattered.
The second lesson is that gratitude should be visible when appropriate. A private thank you can be deeply meaningful, and some people prefer it. But public appreciation can do something different: it makes recognition part of the shared story of a team. The point is not to make every thank you public. It is to make appreciation visible enough that people learn what the group values.
For leaders, that matters. What you recognise tells people something about what counts.
The third lesson is that gratitude needs maintenance. Frihedsstøtten itself has needed care over the centuries, including a major restoration in the late 1990s. Gratitude in an organisation works in much the same way. A single speech at the Christmas party is a foundation stone, not a monument. If appreciation isn't renewed, people stop noticing it.
What the research says
Research suggests that gratitude can matter both personally and relationally. Robert Emmons and Michael McCullough found that people asked to focus regularly on things they were grateful for experienced several positive effects compared with people focused on daily hassles. Sara Algoe describes gratitude's role in relationships as "find, remind and bind": it can help us notice valuable people, appreciate existing relationships and strengthen them.
There is also an especially interesting workplace finding. In a study by Adam Grant and Francesca Gino, university fundraisers who received a personal expression of gratitude from their director subsequently made substantially more fundraising calls. The researchers linked the effect to people's increased sense that their contribution had social value.
That distinction matters. The thank you wasn't simply saying, "You're good at your job." It was saying, "What you do matters to us."
Self-Determination Theory, developed by Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, offers another useful lens. It identifies three basic psychological needs: autonomy, competence and relatedness. Specific appreciation speaks directly to two of them: competence, by showing people what they did well, and relatedness, by showing that their contribution was noticed and valued.
Deci and Ryan also distinguish between informational and controlling feedback. For leaders, that distinction is useful. A specific, honest thank you gives people information about the value of their contribution. Vague or strategic praise can start to feel like management.
I see something similar in coaching. When we thank someone for the way they calmly structured a messy project, or for how they made a new colleague feel welcome, we are naming a strength in action. People often struggle to see their own strengths because those behaviours feel natural to them. Someone else's specific appreciation can become the mirror they need.
Build a small pillar
Few of us will raise a 20-metre obelisk for a colleague, and that is probably for the best. But the principle scales down.
Say what you saw. Don't just say "great job," name the behaviour and its impact.
Make it appropriate. Some appreciation belongs in public, and some is better said privately.
Notice the invisible work. Recognition naturally flows towards people who are already visible. Look instead for the person who keeps the calendar sane, asks the question that saves the project, welcomes the new colleague or quietly prevents problems from becoming bigger ones.
Thank upwards too. Leaders who make difficult decisions rarely hear that their choices mattered. It can feel awkward, as though it might come across as flattery, but specificity helps. If you genuinely believe a decision was valuable, say what it made possible.
And finally, keep doing it. When specific appreciation becomes a normal part of how a team talks to one another, it starts to shape the culture. People learn what gets noticed, and they learn what matters.
The monuments we pass every day
The next time you rush past a monument in your own town, whether it is Frihedsstøtten or something else entirely, it might be worth slowing down for a moment and looking up.
Frihedsstøtten is a reminder that gratitude was once considered important enough to build in stone, in a place where everyone would see it.
We don't need stone.
We need a sentence, said clearly, to the right person, about the thing they actually did and why it mattered. And then we need to say it again.
That is how a thank you stops being a passing feeling and becomes something people can build on.
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