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A Little Fresh Air

  • Writer: Andrea Emily Stumpf
    Andrea Emily Stumpf
  • Feb 14
  • 6 min read

Updated: Feb 16

Here’s a topic while it’s still wintry where I live. When the weather is sub-zero outside, I do my best to keep warm inside. I think most people are like that. For some, though, the house needs airing, no matter how low the mercury. Icy wind howling down the lane, frosty streaks on the pane, no worries – just let me open the window and let in some fresh air!


This is a characteristically German practice with a German name: Lüften (Luft is air). The Washington Post recently ran an article about “house burping”[1] – the unfortunate English translation for this ritual – and then The New York Times piled on a week later.[2] Social media seems to be vibing with window-opening posts that promote this practice, some describing it as not just German culture, but outright German compunction.


I guess I will have to weigh in on the side of not all Germans doing it, tempting as it may be to invoke the trope of the Fastidious German. At least in Hamburg in the 19th century, this was apparently not the norm everywhere, for here is what Sayyida Salme wrote:

The need to always close the door upon entering or leaving a room or other space—even the house door, which for you only happens at night—made no sense to me. I habitually left the doors open, even in the winter. I also could not fathom why, despite rooms that were usually so small, and then even in the summer, doors and windows had to be kept shut. Accustomed to living with open windows, year in, year out, day and night, I initially did not do well with the used-up air that was so offensive to the nose. Any time I found myself in a room with too little ventilation, I got a headache. Just consider how my love of fresh air unwittingly made me the laughingstock of the neighborhood, only because I frequently opened the windows for long periods even in the winter. The word was that I was also heating the streets. (Letters, p. 22)

She faced a real tension between needing to stay warm and needing to breathe:  

This [the first winter] was also the time that my dear husband, in his concern for my well-being, could not dress me warmly enough. I was very displeased by all this, since I thoroughly disliked how much attire the rough climate here requires. You cannot imagine what all I had to layer on, all at the same time. Not infrequently, my dear husband would come rushing after me with some item of clothing in his hands, calling: Bibi! Wewe umasahaw kitu! (My wife, you have forgotten something.) To which my response was always the same: Siku sahaw lakini sipendi. (I have not forgotten anything; I just do not like it.) I found it awful when I was supposed to wrap a heavy scarf around my neck; it felt like someone wanted to choke me. (Letters, p. 23)
I was filled with childish joy by the first leaves on the trees, which had looked like broomsticks for almost six months, giving newcomers the impression that they had all suddenly dried out and were waiting to be cut down. I was so happy to be able to sit in the yard again, or generally outdoors, for after months of sitting in heated rooms, and only occasionally letting in the fresh air, I had really had more than enough. In these rooms, I frequently felt so pinned in and pent up that I often stretched my whole head out of the window, even in the biting cold, just to breathe in some air. But I could tolerate this sport only a few minutes at a time, since the indescribably cold air quickly propelled me back in again. Often enough, this craving for fresh air left me feeling quite sick. (Letters, p. 37)

Such descriptions – you can just feel her culture shock.


Whether Lüften is really a pan-German thing or not, TikTokers and others would have you know that Germans are onto something: Lüften, they say, is healthy. Even just a few minutes of air exchange, in with the good, out with the bad, can rid the house of pent-up chemicals, tamp down toxins, flow out fumes, and control the mold. We should all be house burpers.


Perhaps yes. Done in moderation, especially when temperatures are friendlier, a regular bit of air swap sounds like a good idea. It should be noted, though, that Germans not only have the practice, but they also have the hardware. I have never understood why it is nigh on impossible for Americans to buy the wonderful Kippfenster that everyone in Germany has (in this case, really everyone). These vertical “bottom-hung” or “tilt-and-turn” windows tip open from the top, just a few inches, and angle to closure at the bottom. They are secure (more closed than open and basically burglar-proof), with just the right amount of freshness wafting in from behind the curtain to avoid a draft. I love these windows and wanted them for my own home, but they are not to be had here. We can do all the house burping we want in the U.S., but without the right equipment.


The funny thing about Germans is their ambivalence on the subject – they may want the fresh air, but they do not want the draft: “lueften” versus “ziehen.” The minute someone feels the slightest air flow on their skin, they will yell “es zieht!” – the universal cue to shut the offending door or window. I can remember summer car trips in Germany, sweating miserably in the overheated back seat, when I dared crack open the window just a hair to get some bit of relief, only to hear an immediate “es zieht!” – and had to seal the pane again. Sometimes, like Sayyida Salme, they just can’t make up their minds on whether to open or close.


There is, however, little debate about the value of Lüften when it comes to gas stoves. Recent reporting about the exposure to gas fumes is downright shocking,[3] considering all the years we were encouraged to cook with gas, the stove of choice for connoisseurs. But in this case, based on the latest, Lüften is not enough. Go for induction instead!


Logically, however, the benefits of Lüften also depend on the quality of the air outside. Nowadays, fresh air can no longer be assumed. It matters whether the air you are tipping in is, in fact, cleaner than the air you are tipping out. The same study on gas stoves rated the health factor of using gas stoves based on location – specifically based on air quality in the surrounding area. In plenty of places, there were unhealthy nitrogen dioxide levels in the air even without the gas stoves. That includes where I live.


Today, the air quality is actually better in Hamburg (good) than Zanzibar (moderate), the difference being a higher level of particulate matter on the island (you can look it up).[4] The World Health Organization even says that virtually all of us – 99% – live in areas that exceed healthy air quality standards for NO2 (mostly fossil fuels) and PM2.5 particulate matter (mostly combustion).[5]


For that, many of us have learned to use a better, more consistent answer. Post-Covid, how many houses now have air filters? I do not know what the term is for keeping windows closed while turning the filter on – maybe house sieving? – but that may be our healthiest, 21st-century answer for aeration yet.[6] 


It is in any case nice to think back to Sayyida Salme’s balmy days by the sea, open architecture, breezes flowing free. Especially when it is cold outside – excuse me while I bundle up!


Let history surprise you; let her story inspire you – let her authentic voice speak to you.


Andrea Emily Stumpf

February 14, 2026


Photo credit:  www.bouwimpex.nl



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