Ellen Ringier: «Discipline was everything. And sport»

Dear Ellen, your mother comes from a London banking family and your father was a fur wholesaler from central Switzerland. Not an everyday combination at the time.

You're right about that. The fact that my mum was a foreigner - and from such a cosmopolitan city to boot - was the most formative factor in my childhood. While other mothers knitted their children's woollen tights themselves, our London relatives always sent parcels of fine, white synthetic tights. And instead of one of those little wooden tins, I was wheeled around in a navy blue pram with big sprung wheels.

Your mother was very open, worldly and cultured, while your father was considered very down-to-earth and disciplined. Didn't this discrepancy lead to tensions in the family?

Strangely enough, my parents were absolutely united in their parenting, there was never any difference. My parents had their say and we three sisters did what our parents wanted us to do. There was no rebellion. On the other hand, it was very important to our parents that we quickly became independent and were able to see the world. I was probably the first person in Lucerne to travel to Leningrad and Moscow at the age of 18. Of course, these trips always had an educational background: my father was an intellectual and learning was his top priority.

Your grandfather once said: «Life is always about giving other people a chance.» Did he make you the social and committed person you are today?

The basic conviction of our entire family was that we were part of this society. My parents were always in contact with their employees, they were looked after and a Christmas bonus was obligatory. Every year, my mother invited a boy with a hydrocephalus from the neighbourhood to my children's birthdays. He liked it with us and we didn't question it. He was just part of it.

An Indian proverb says: «As long as children are small, give them roots; when they grow older, give them wings.» What did your parents do in this regard?

They have taught us that life requires a certain humility and resilience. A mental and physical ability to withstand things. And they gave me the ability to cope anywhere. They could have let me jump out of an aeroplane with a parachute anywhere - I would have put down roots in any corner of the world.

In which situations did your parents encourage you to keep going and not give up?

My parents often took us mountain climbing. I climbed up to difficulty level six. There were often situations where I thought: «Oh God, how am I going to get through this alive?» Skiing is another example. I got through the steep slope every time because I dared to lean downhill. If you're afraid, you lean against the mountain and lose your footing. I owe the ability to face everything openly and favourably and to see myself as part of a whole to my parents.

We have never learnt to ask: What do we need? What is good for us?

Ellen Ringier about her childhood

Was there never a rebellion, for example during puberty?

No, I didn't go through puberty. When my first boyfriend left me and I was devastated, my father said: «Go out into nature, go jogging.» Discipline was everything. And sport. Later on, when others had to eat something or go to the toilet all the time during negotiations that often lasted all night or meetings that went on for hours, I got through it without taking a break. I was never ill, never missed work, but I also dragged myself to work with a fever of 40 degrees. No wonder, we children never learnt to ask ourselves: «What do we need? What is good for us?»

Simply taking more care of yourself. Is that what you would have liked?

Maybe a little - but no. I'm actually glad about that. What I regret more is the fact that we were never praised. My mum said that she was proud of us. That never crossed my father's lips. When I wanted to go to grammar school, he said: «I wish she was clever enough to make it worthwhile, but she won't make it.» I passed the entrance exam and graduated. When I graduated, my father gave a speech and said that grammar school had been more demanding in his day, but now I was going to university, I would finally have to learn to work. He had never seen me learn.

Is that true?

Of course not. I was never a model student, but what I had to do, I did. I was a minimalist, that's true. I obviously had certain talents and was able to muddle through quite well.

Today you have a doctorate in law. How did your father come to make such statements?

He simply couldn't imagine that someone could become something if they didn't read and study non-stop. I didn't have that intellectual attitude.

Do you spend your whole life fighting for your beloved father's approval?

Yes, that's what you're left with, unfortunately. But it's also an advantage if you've learnt not to rely on appearances. I'm 65 now, and I don't care at all that my hair is white, and anyone who doesn't like my wrinkles is welcome to do without me. I am firmly convinced: If a person is beautiful on the inside, they also have this charisma.

In Switzerland, it's every man for himself. This has a devastating effect on education.

That is a very self-confident attitude.

Which, of course, I didn't always have. As a teenager, there were times when I couldn't deal with people saying: «Wow, you're so tall, you have such long legs, such a great figure, you should be a model.» I just thought: «Are they crazy?» I couldn't deal with something like that. A bit more self-confidence in that respect would have been good.

And yet you were brought up to be a self-confident, self-sufficient young woman. When you moved to Hamburg after marrying Michael Ringier, you were condemned to do nothing for a while.

That was a big disappointment. I didn't realise beforehand that I wouldn't get a work permit there at first. I then slowly started to work for free. For example, I helped a model to open a bag boutique. So I became part of Hamburg society right from the start.

In Cologne, you were then able to take up a position with a large insurance company. A few years later, you returned to Switzerland. How did the Elternsein Foundation come about?

I have to go back a bit. In the 1990s, the Ringier company revived the Humanitas Foundation, set up by Michael's grandfather in the 1930s, to help people in need. I saw how families in poverty fare and how they fall into a cycle that drags them further and further down.

It is very difficult to get out of this cycle ...

... because in this country everyone only cares about their own problems. It's different in other cultures. A mother in this country would never say: «My child has to repeat a grade.» A father would never go to the teacher and say: «I have an alcohol problem, I don't know if you've noticed it in my son's school performance.» It's every man for himself and that has a devastating effect on education.

And that's why you set up the Elternsein Foundation in 2001?

I turned 50 this year and asked myself what is really needed in this country to help families. Switzerland doesn't have a family ministry. There is a huge gap that needs to be filled, which of course I can never do on my own, but I can do my bit. And so my business partner at the time, Sabine Danuser, and I published the first issue of Fritz+Fränzi . My printed social project.

My aim was to support parents in their parenting skills and educational tasks and to create an understanding in society of what it means to raise children today. It seemed to me that there was no awareness of the growing demands on parents, teachers and other educators at the time - and still isn't to a sufficient extent.

How did the name come about?

The magazine couldn't be called Ratgeber Elternsein. The girlfriend comes to visit and sees the magazine lying on the living room table. «What, you need a guide?» Nobody wants that. We had already thought of «Max and Moritz». But it should have had a girl's name in it. So we went to the advertising expert Hermann Strittmatter and asked for advice. «You want to use the booklet to help parents whose children are cheeky and cause problems?» he asked. «Then why don't you call it «Der Saugoof»?»

The Saugoof? You didn't seriously consider that!

Of course not! We then took two names that no longer exist today, but which sound like Max and Moritz. That's how we came up with Fritz and Fränzi. Two really old-fashioned names.

I acquired all the adverts myself back then.

Fritz+Fränzi was initially published six times a year.

It was a nail-biter every time, but we always managed it and never missed an issue. We didn't even have a publishing director for years. But it was clear to us from the start that we would have the magazine distributed via schools. We were happy that we were able to win over the LCH (umbrella organisation of Swiss teachers) and later also the VSLCH (Swiss Association of Head Teachers) as distribution partners right from the start. And, I would like to emphasise this: We were and are completely independent of the publisher Ringier as well as my husband's money.

How much of your own assets have you invested in the foundation and in Fritz+Fränzi?

2.6 million. And 15 years of my labour. And that was 20 hours a day in the first few years. I acquired all the adverts myself back then.

How do you deal with it when someone who has a lot of money doesn't want to donate a cent to a good cause?

Well, not always equally good. There are days when I hang up the phone and cry. Then I'm totally depressed because some cheeky bloke on the other end has said: «Not interested.» No explanation, not a polite word.

I'm sure you know many wealthy people personally very well.

I generally don't fundraise for friends. But when none of the guests I invite to my 60th birthday party think of donating something to the foundation, even though I don't want any presents, it does disappoint me. But it has to be said that I had already started collecting money for the countless foundations I was and still am involved in ten years earlier. I raised millions. At some point, people said: here she comes again. That didn't exactly make me any more popular.

Are you that pushy?

I would call it persistent. I don't want to force anyone to be happy, but sometimes I need an extra word so that people realise what I'm actually talking about.

Your daughters are now 23 and 25 years old and mothers themselves. How do you experience young parents today?

My daughters are very privileged. Basically, however, I think that the expectations of people in their 30s have risen. Competition is much greater than it was in my day. In addition, costs have spiralled out of control in relation to wage increases. In most families, both parents have to work. That's why we need to create a childcare situation with moderate prices that makes working at all profitable.

The same applies to all-day schools and after-school care. Parents need this more than ever. The other is the health issue. Around a third of the population suffers from depression. This also affects mothers, fathers and their children. A 15-year-old boy comes home and has to do his homework, but his mum is still in bed with the curtains drawn. There's only sour milk in the fridge. Instead of being able to do his homework, he first has to do the housework.

What can you do specifically if such a case were brought to you?

Today, I refuse to take on a counselling role. In the past, I would have said to the mother: «Be open about your problems, own up to them. Go to your son's teacher, go to the local authority. With their well-developed social authorities, municipalities in Switzerland have many opportunities to intervene.»

Mental illness, drugs, dropping out of school. The Swiss parents' magazine Fritz+Fränzi tackles many of these sensitive topics. Which issue would you have picked up when your daughters were younger? What was on your mind as a mum?

The first film by Fabian Grolimund opened my eyes. The topic was «Learning with children». Among other things, it was about not teaching the child that learning is something strenuous that makes you tired. Before you see signs of tiredness, you should pick the child up and tell them that they deserve a break. My God, have I bullied my children! Nevertheless, I think I should have been stricter with my daughters in many ways.

What are your daughters like with their own children?

They are much stricter again and demand more than we have asked for. But despite this adult authority, they treat their small children as brothers and sisters in a certain way. I'm curious to see how they will reconcile this discrepancy one day.

How do you see your role as a grandmother?

I definitely want to accompany my grandchildren and support my children. If they let me (laughs). I really regret that we never did the activities that my parents did with us with our children. Just set off with a tent, eat somewhere nice and spend the night. That's what you call quality time. My husband and I were just too busy and left that to others.

The magazine is now exactly as I always imagined it would be.

Ellen, when you look back on the last few years. What are you proud of? And what still needs to be done?

I can't live with the fact that schools only receive almost every second copy of Fritz+Fränzi. It drives me crazy that so much expertise doesn't reach where it should. To double the already huge print run of over 100,000 copies, I would have to get a lot more sponsors. But I'm proud of where we are today. The magazine is now exactly what I always imagined it would be.

What do you wish for the future?

Of course I hope that one day there will be a family ministry in Switzerland with expertise and sufficient funds. It annoys me that the public sector is unwilling and unable to support «my project». When I consider how many millions of francs the federal government spends on moderately beneficial anti-smoking campaigns. Perhaps an interview with the Minister of the Interior, Alain Berset, should ask why the federal government has not put the promotion of parenting skills on its radar. Before that, however, Mr Berset should be made aware that he is also the Minister for Families - he probably doesn't even realise it! (laughs)