Friday the 16th of February, 2024, an unorthodox scene could be witnessed in the streets of Norway’s capital. Between the office buildings, corner shops, and the Victorian brick church in the Grønland district of Oslo, over three hundred people were gathered in a breadline outside the poorhouse (Fattighuset). Knowing Norway as one of the wealthiest countries in the world, with the highest of living standards and top-rated democracy, you may ask yourself: How can we allow this to happen?
Until the middle of the 20th century, Norway was a nation with a modest economy, sustained by industries like fishing, shipping, and agriculture. In the late 60s, through the discovery of one of the world’s largest ocean oilfields, our economic situation was abruptly improved. To prohibit our wealth from falling into the hands of international petrol companies, our government proclaimed sovereignty over the Norwegian continental shelf. And in 1990, to ensure the profits would benefit future generations, a national petroleum fund was established with the purpose of acting as an economic reserve and contributing to financing the welfare state.
In light of Norway’s economic growth between 1945 and 1970, a range of social security services was established, many of which were united in the national insurance reform — a cornerstone of the Norwegian welfare state. The post-war social politics were characterized by a desire for common values, and the National Insurance Scheme of 1967 was founded upon the idea of the state’s responsibility to guarantee a livelihood for all citizens. Today, as of the reform in 2005, the various welfare agencies are merged into one: The Norwegian Labour and Welfare Administration (NAV), a joint department for public labor and social services represented in every municipality.
We Norwegians are grateful to be part of a system developed to benefit the people, for which we can thank our social democratic government. But times have changed since 1967, and even though our country is ranked as number one on the Economist’s Democracy Index, our welfare system stagnated in the 20th century.
In a time of war, inflation, political unrest, and post-Covid economic decline, those who have the least are the ones who suffer most. As interest rates shoot up, electricity bills skyrocket, and rent prices escalate out of control, the social differences continue to expand. While the politicians collect their million-kroner salaries and the upper class sits in their giant houses with their two cars and three cabins, traveling abroad five times a year, middle-class citizens struggle to get by. Small businesses go bankrupt. Families fail to pay their monthly bills. Single mothers cannot afford necessities for themselves and their children. Welfare recipients fear having to vacate their homes, and our most vulnerable citizens must resort to the poorhouse not to starve.
In 2024, the minimum payout disability pensioners receive from NAV exceeds the poverty threshold only by a hairsbreadth. As the government falls short, welfare recipients balance on the knife’s edge to get by, and some have no choice but to resort to charity. The breadline outside Fattighuset in February was not a one-time incident. The Norwegian food bank, Matsentralen, estimates that 115,000 people require food support weekly — Norwegians and immigrants alike. Still, even our prime minister refuses to acknowledge the problem for what it is. In an interview addressing the increasing food lines, he explicitly referred to the welfare recipients’ situation not as poverty, but a “poverty experience,” which — in the words of those who stood in line themselves — points to a lack of understanding of what poverty is, and how humiliating and destructive it is for an individual to be cut off from society.
There is also a concerning development happening among our younger generations. The past decade has seen a significant decline in mental health among teenagers and young adults. The queues in the health system are long, and many are already struggling to get help. The likelihood that more young people will end up in NAV’s system in the coming years cannot be dismissed. Politicians talk about the importance of labor, launching their escalation plans for work-oriented rehabilitation. Although beneficial for many, for those unable to meet the demands of the streamlined work life, being pushed through a rigid system inconsiderate of individual needs only contributes to worsening their symptoms. In our modern society, it seems the tolerance for differences is shrinking, and the mentality of “standing together” is turning more and more into “everyone fends for themselves.”
I am not here to paint a picture of Norway bleaker than reality, nor to take our privileges for granted, but to shed light on a concerning development that should not be allowed to take place in a nation like ours. The growing social differences are as paradoxical as they are glaring — whether seen through news reports, statistics, or on the open street.
In the heart of Oslo, walking through the areas of Grønland, Vaterland, and Kvadraturen, substance users and homeless people occupy the streets, sleeping on the sidewalk, using and distributing narcotics in broad daylight. These are tragic sights, which, in the capital of one of the world’s most prosperous countries, feel highly out of place.
“A nation’s greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members.” Whether spoken in the words of Gandhi, Truman, Humphrey, or Dostoevsky, this adage is as relevant as ever.
What we lack in this country is not the resources. We lack the priority. I believe it’s time our politicians pull their heads out of the sand and reverse this situation before it escalates — even if it requires redistributing funds from their extravagant construction projects, excessive bureaucracies, or their own inflated salaries.
We need a welfare system able to accommodate the individual, supporting them instead of making them more ill. A system that strengthens instead of victimizes. A system adapted to the modern world, ready to meet the challenges of the coming generations.
And I hope that in the future, the sight of three hundred people standing in line to receive food from the poorhouse is something our privileged nation never has to witness again.