While Shakespeare's Marcellus was convinced something was rotten in the state of Denmark, our Scandinavian cousin is now seen by many as a poster-child for the future of Scotland.

But confusingly, while the left-wing Jimmy Reid Foundation marks out Denmark as a near cut-and-paste template for its Common Weal project, the US conservative Heritage Foundation also ranks it in its top 10 for economic freedom. Similarly, while the left is aghast at the privatisation of Royal Mail, most of the fire and ambulance cover in Denmark has long been provided by a private firm. This is a curious nation indeed.

The high ranking of Denmark on the economic right stems from the flexibility of the Danish labour market, where hiring and firing can be done with relative ease. Such flexibility is readily accepted due to the generous provision of training and benefits to provide a buffer between jobs, so-called "flexicuirty".

This nimble but skilled and secure labour market is well placed to ride the waves of disruptive technological innovation to come. Also, Denmark has no statutory minimum wage, a policy which is in fact welcomed by unions worried that it could bring down long negotiated wage floors. We have some distance to travel before our industrial relations are so agreeable.

Aside from flexibility, the Danish economy thrives as it is strongly engaged in liberal international trade. Denmark has been among the most vocal advocates of trade liberalisation within the EU. For a nation with relatively limited natural resources, trade is key in importing raw materials and exporting high-value-added goods. The huge Danish Maersk conglomerate, the world's largest container shipping group, is a symbol of Denmark as a trading nation.

Denmark also has a favourable corporation tax rate and firms make little in the way of social security contributions for their employees. It's clear that, for all its apparent dirigisme, Denmark has a liberal trading economy at its core. And it is this that generates the fire hose of prosperity to underpin the leveller of a strong social contract.

Of course, Scotland isn't Denmark. The Common Weal project is therefore rightly critical of zero-hour contracts driving down wages, rather than investment driving up productivity. But let us not confuse a dislike for crony capitalism with a genuinely competitive open-market economy, where ownership can be private, co-operatives or indeed the state.

Similarly, in contrast to the state as monopoly provider of public services, Sweden's post-ideological experiments are using a range of suppliers to deliver universal healthcare provision. And while many view wind pioneer Denmark as a role model for a sustainable Scotland, its carbon emissions per capita have been nearly double those of nuclear, hydro-powered Sweden.

Closer to home, there have been some strident calls to nationalise outright the energy sector in Scotland in the wake of the Grangemouth debacle. In contrast, the Danish Government is due to reduce its stake in energy firm Dong from 80% to 60%, to raise capital for new offshore wind investments, and plans to go public by 2017. It's also worth noting that apparently no private firm has been outright nationalised in Denmark for more than 100 years.

So, as a nation that is an exemplar of the Scandinavian post-ideological outlook, Denmark rightly attracts intense interest and deserved plaudits from both left and right alike. However, the suspicion is that, while the Common Weal is honestly presented as a bold alternative for Scotland, to some at least, it appears to represent a vehicle for a return to the imagined certainties of state socialism, or a bulwark against globalisation. Others would no doubt use it to chase down the unicorn of a green republic.

And while we can all be rightly awed by the cohesiveness of egalitarian Danish society, let us not forget that the toy fire engines parked at Legoland proudly sport the logo of a private firm.