Whether a person considers a trip to the past enjoyable depends entirely on the present. More and more Germans would like to take at least a virtual look back at the old Federal Republic before it disappears completely from the collective consciousness. Few people outside the political class would argue that the country is in a better state today than it was thirty years ago.
What is the best way to organize such a nostalgic trip? Just talk to foreigners whose experiences with Germany go back a little further into the past. For many Chinese, Australians, Britons, and Americans who vacationed or studied between the North Sea and the Alps decades ago, the Federal Republic still appears to be a country with capricious weather and occasionally grumpy inhabitants—but also a well-organized, efficient, and safe community.
Nostalgic memories of Germany persist remarkably tenaciously abroad. Anyone who wants to preserve this pleasant illusion should not make the mistake of coming to see for themselves today.
A sad farce spreads
Some time ago, a video of a Chinese scientist talking about his trip to a conference in Berlin went viral. After the event, he decided to travel by ICE train [high-speed trains operated by Deutsche Bahn – German Railways, ed. note] to Frankfurt Airport, from where he was to fly back home. He must have received useful advice about German railways from locals during his stay, because he planned a three-hour time buffer. He already had his ticket and was traveling with only hand luggage. What could go wrong?
But something did go wrong. His adventure began in Berlin with a delay, he missed his connection, the next ICE train was stuck somewhere on the track, and the replacement train crawled toward its destination with increasing delays. The brave man from the Far East made it to the departure gate at the last minute, running all the way.
What surprised him most, as he recounted in the video, was the stoic calm of his fellow German passengers: no swearing, no grumbling, just silent, desperate glances at their mobile phone screens. The scientist probably expected that in such an orderly society as Germany, such a chaotic journey would provoke a collective outburst of discontent.
Only 60 percent of trains arrive on time
There is an explanation for this resigned passivity that fascinated him so much. And it also explains the current state of Germany quite well. In 2025, only 60 percent of trains arrived on time (in 2015, it was still 75 percent). Every twentieth train is completely canceled—which, incidentally, also drops it from the delay statistics. So locals know exactly what they're getting into.
At this point, here is some practical advice for anyone who only knows the German railway system from the old days: if you feel an urgent need to use the toilet as a passenger, leave in good time. On some long-distance trains, you will pass three, sometimes even four, non-functional and closed toilets before you reach one that is usable. There is usually a line there.
In addition, the reconstruction of Stuttgart station began in 2010. After a generously calculated nine years, trains were supposed to run through the new underground terminal. At that time, however, there was only a huge construction pit. The company announced 2026 as the final specific completion date. However, even that cannot be met. To be on the safe side, the management of the state-owned company has refrained from announcing any new date.
The situation is similar with almost all large construction projects today. Construction of the new Carolabrücke bridge in Dresden, which collapsed on September 11, 2024, will begin in 2028 at the earliest, with the opening planned for around 2032. The complete renovation of the Pergamon Museum in Berlin, which began in 2013 and is scheduled for completion in 2037, will probably drag on until 2043. Anyone who is in the prime of life today will probably only get to see it when they retire.
A brief comparison: it took workers six years, from 1909 to 1915, to build Leipzig Central Station, long considered the largest of its kind in Europe. At the time, this pace was not considered sensational, but simply the norm.
Incidentally, there was also a phenomenon called winter in Germany in the past. In January 2026, all trams in Berlin were out of service for two days, even though there were no exceptionally cold temperatures or extreme snowfall. In northern Germany, a blizzard led to a temporary halt in rail traffic (and thus temporarily to zero delays). In Lower Saxony, 18,000 electronic documents from the judicial administration, including urgent cases, were stuck. Why? Many officials were working from home due to winter storm Elli, and the ministry's outdated server crashed under the onslaught of external access.
The resignation of the typical German
Perhaps after this – by no means exhaustive – list, you will understand why the once typical German puts up with train delays and much worse things with resignation and, in the eyes of foreigners, comes across as sheep-like. Today, he is happy if he gets anywhere at all. He considers it a miracle when a new bridge or station is built somewhere, regardless of when it happens.
"It is not what the world is like that is mystical, but that it is," philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein once remarked. Today, the people of Germany relate this statement to their prosaic everyday life. They rejoice even when only part of the infrastructure collapses in winter, rather than all of it. And they breathe a sigh of relief when, after months of waiting, they finally hold an official document in their hands.
The author of this text intends to get married. To do so, he needs a birth certificate, which he applied for in September 2025. In January 2026, he cautiously inquired about the status and received a reply that he should kindly refrain from pressing the matter. The mail from August of last year is currently being processed.
As a resident, one no longer expects improvement and is satisfied if things do not get much worse. In other words, this country no longer expects anything from itself.
From a country of engineers to a state of bureaucrats
How did Germany get to where it is today? There are only partial answers to this question. Let everyone piece together their own picture from them.
At the end of 2025, the Federal Statistical Office reported a decline in the labor force for the first time in a long time, despite the fact that several million people had immigrated to the country since 2015. A closer look is more telling: the number of industrial workers and self-employed persons has been declining since 2016. During the same period, the number of public sector employees rose from 10.74 million to 12.38 million. Of these more than twelve million, only 7.25 million are now employed in industry and 3.67 million are self-employed.
The country of engineers has successfully transformed itself into a state of bureaucrats. This bureaucracy protects and feeds itself, primarily by constantly producing new regulations and rules.
This is one of the reasons why construction projects take decades. Of course, with the help of artificial intelligence and digitization, documents could be issued within 24 hours. However, this would be at the expense of public employees, who – when it comes to defending their own position – possess quite natural intelligence.
In this area, the state still functions surprisingly well. Recently, someone posted a letter from the tax office on the X network, notifying him of a tax arrears of 37 cents and imposing a hefty fine. The letter arrived in a flash. Here, they don't work on last August first. When it comes to collecting money, the XXL state apparatus suddenly behaves as agilely as a young tiger. And it is just as voracious.
Celebrating incompetence
Secondly, the worship of incompetence is rampant in the country. Green Party politician Robert Habeck, who has never shown any particular interest in economic issues, nevertheless became the economy minister of Europe's most powerful country in 2021 – only to explain to the nation that companies whose businesses are falling apart are not going bankrupt, they are "just ceasing production." His party colleague Annalena Baerbock declared the electricity grid to be a storage facility, published a book in 2021 that consisted mainly of plagiarism, recommended a "360-degree turn" to Putin as foreign minister, and called South Africa a "bacon of hope" instead of a "beacon of hope."
Habeck, Baerbock, and others in this league could and can get away with almost anything, as most German journalists are at their feet anyway. Because in today's newsrooms, it is no longer "tell it like it is" – the motto of Spiegel founder Rudolf Augstein – but "write according to feeling."
Lower Saxony's Minister of Education Julia Willie Hamburg, Bundestag Vice-President Omid Nouripour, Bundestag Member Katrin Göring-Eckardt – sometimes mentioned as a future federal president – and many other politicians share one biographical detail: they have no professional education. Nor do they have any experience in the private sector.
Any incompetence at the top eventually trickles down. It used to be said that Germany was averagely governed but well managed. Today, neither is true.
The pioneer is lagging behind
Added to this is contempt for entrepreneurs, for example on the part of SPD chairwoman Bärbel Bas, who believes that her party should fight against business owners.
We also see contempt for general education. In the TIMSS international test, a global ranking of student performance in mathematics and science, German fourth graders ranked 12th in 2007. Sixteen years later, they were only in 21st place, far behind Turkey, England, Romania, and other countries.
And finally, those who constantly tell themselves that they are "pioneers" for the whole world, especially in the energy transition, which in reality no one is copying, will one day stop asking critical questions about themselves. Perhaps today's Germany is simply suffering from what American anthropologist Louis Kroeber once called "cultural exhaustion."
So is there anything left of the famous German thoroughness? Yes, definitely, not only in details such as the collection of 37 cents in tax debt. But also in the big picture. If we are to bring down a country that once functioned at least reasonably well—which is the motto of today's German leaders—then let's do it properly.
However, there is still a glimmer of hope. At the beginning of 2026, it became apparent that the dismantling of the decommissioned Brokdorf nuclear power plant would probably take 50 years, as thousands of regulations had to be complied with. Perhaps it will go so slowly that the next or even the following federal government, which will be at least partially reasonable, will decide to put the power plant back into operation. The contract will then go to Chinese engineers.
By fax.
The original text was published on the website of the Austrian sister newspaperStatement.at.