The Story of Nuclear Power in Norway

Nuclear power has never taken off in Norway, but the country has researched the technology for decades.

When most people think of Norway’s energy system, one word comes to mind: hydropower. Mountain landscapes and rushing rivers have given the country a near-endless supply of clean electricity, making it a global leader in renewable energy.

Yet Norway once came surprisingly close to joining the ranks of nuclear nations. From the 1950s onwards, the country built and operated several research reactors. For a time, politicians debated whether full-scale nuclear plants should be added to the grid.

In the end, hydropower won out, but the research left its mark, and continues to shape today’s discussions about new technologies such as thorium reactors and small modular reactors (SMRs).

Here’s the story of nuclear power in Norway, from its first experiments in the aftermath of World War II to the decommissioning projects and policy debates of today.

Norway’s Nuclear Timeline

The Institute for Nuclear Energy (IFA), later renamed the Institute for Energy Technology (IFE), was founded in 1948—just three years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Like many countries at the time, Norway was eager not to be left behind in exploring the potential of nuclear energy.

The early years of the Cold War also added urgency: nuclear science was both a symbol of modernity and a potential safeguard in an uncertain world.

In 1951, Norway became only the sixth country in the world to operate its own nuclear reactor. The JEEP I reactor at Kjeller, outside Oslo, marked the start of Norway’s nuclear era.

For a small nation, this was a remarkable achievement, signalling that Norway intended to participate in cutting-edge international research rather than relying solely on imported knowledge.

JEEP I was eventually replaced in 1967 by JEEP II, which went on to serve for decades as a source of neutrons for physics experiments, materials research, and the production of radiopharmaceuticals used in hospitals across Norway.

Meanwhile, a second research facility was established further south. The Halden reactor began operating in 1958, supplying process heat to a nearby paper mill but quickly developing into something much larger.

Through the so-called Halden Project, the facility became an international hub for safety research and fuel testing. Partner countries from across Europe, the United States, and Japan contributed expertise and funding, making Halden a truly global research environment.

By the late 1960s, Norway had two active research reactors and a reputation for punching above its weight in nuclear science.

With a strong hydropower system already in place, however, politicians faced a big question: should Norway go further and build full-scale nuclear power stations, or remain focused on water as the cornerstone of its energy future?

Why Norway Chose Hydropower Over Nuclear

In the 1960s and 70s, nuclear power was a serious topic of debate in Norway. The government commissioned studies on the potential role of nuclear plants in meeting future energy demand, and utility companies explored possible sites for reactors along the coast.

On paper, it seemed a logical step: the technology was advancing, and neighbouring Sweden was building its own nuclear fleet.

But Norway had a trump card that few other countries could match: mountains and water. By this time, large hydropower projects were already transforming the nation’s electricity supply.

With glaciers, rainfall, and steep valleys providing a steady resource, hydropower offered reliable, renewable, and domestically controlled energy. Unlike nuclear, it came without the same risks of accidents, radioactive waste, or public opposition.

Another factor was the North Sea oil and gas boom. From the late 1960s onwards, discoveries off Norway’s coast created not just a new industry but also an entirely new source of national wealth.

While much of the petroleum was destined for export, the revenues and sense of energy abundance further reduced any perceived urgency to pursue nuclear power.

Global events also played their part. The Three Mile Island accident in 1979, followed a few years later by Chernobyl in 1986, hardened public and political resistance.

These disasters highlighted the risks of nuclear energy just as Norway was hitting its stride in hydropower development. Nuclear plans were quietly shelved, and no commercial reactors were ever built.

By the 1980s, the country had effectively made its choice: hydropower would be the backbone of Norwegian electricity. Today, around 90–95% of Norway’s power generation still comes from water, a statistic that explains why the country never felt the same pressure as others to invest heavily in nuclear.

The Impact of Chernobyl on Norway

Although Norway never built its own nuclear power plants, the country was deeply affected by the world’s worst nuclear accident.

When Reactor No. 4 at Chernobyl exploded on 26 April 1986, radioactive clouds drifted north and west across Europe. Norway, lying downwind of the Soviet Union, was one of the hardest hit countries outside Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia.

The fallout was uneven, but central and northern Norway in particular received heavy contamination. Mountain soils, lakes, and grazing land absorbed radioactive isotopes such as caesium-137.

Reindeer herding communities in Finnmark and Trøndelag were especially impacted, since lichen—reindeer’s winter staple—absorbs and holds onto radiation for decades. In some districts, meat from reindeer and sheep could not be sold for human consumption without strict testing.

The government introduced long-term monitoring and compensation schemes to support affected farmers and Sámi herders. For years, limits were placed on the sale of meat, milk, and wild berries.

“Who would have thought that a small northern Norwegian mountain village could be hit by a nuclear accident in Europe. Overnight we were powerless. The Chernobyl accident shows that our food production is vulnerable. It's scary,” sheep farmer Laila Hoff from Hattfjelldal told Norwegian state broadcaster NRK.

Even today, nearly four decades later, testing of reindeer and sheep is still carried out in certain regions during slaughter season to ensure radiation levels remain within safe limits.

Chernobyl left a lasting mark on Norwegian society. Beyond the environmental damage, it reinforced public scepticism toward nuclear energy. Many Norwegians concluded that even if the country avoided building its own reactors, they could never fully escape the risks of nuclear accidents elsewhere.

Nuclear Waste and Decommissioning Challenges

Norway’s limited nuclear activity did not spare it from the burdens of radioactive waste. Decades of running the research reactors at Kjeller and Halden produced spent fuel and contaminated materials that now need safe storage and eventual disposal.

Both research reactors are now permanently closed — Halden shut down in 2018, followed by JEEP II at Kjeller in 2019. What remains is a complex and costly decommissioning process, expected to take several decades and run into tens of billions of kroner.

The first stage, beginning in 2025, involves dismantling facilities and securing the most hazardous waste.

Until recently, Norway had no permanent solution for storing its radioactive material. Interim storage sites at Kjeller and Halden were never designed for the long term, creating both safety concerns and political pressure to act.

After years of debate, the government signed an agreement with Sweden in 2022 to transfer parts of Norway’s nuclear waste across the border for treatment and interim storage. The most dangerous material, however, will ultimately require a permanent deep geological repository, which is a solution still under discussion.

The scale of the problem surprised many Norwegians. What began as small-scale research in the 1950s has left a legacy that will take generations to manage.

Future Nuclear Prospects in Norway

For decades, nuclear power was seen as irrelevant to Norway’s energy mix. With abundant hydropower and growing oil and gas revenues, there was little political or economic incentive to reconsider. But in recent years, the debate has returned in a new form.

Several factors explain this renewed interest. The push for decarbonisation has increased pressure to phase out fossil fuels, including natural gas used for heating and industry.

At the same time, demand for electricity is set to rise sharply as transport, manufacturing, and offshore industries electrify. Hydropower alone may no longer be enough.

This is where Small Modular Reactors (SMRs) enter the conversation. Advocates argue that these new-generation reactors could provide safe, flexible, and low-carbon power, potentially even in remote regions where energy demand is growing.

Norwegian companies and universities are now involved in international research on SMRs, while private initiatives are lobbying to explore pilot projects domestically.

Politics is shifting too. While mainstream political parties remain cautious, the Green Party (MDG) surprised many by openly supporting nuclear power in 2023, arguing that climate change requires all clean energy options on the table.

Other parties, such as the Conservatives and Progress Party, have called for feasibility studies.

For now, Norway has no concrete plans to build nuclear reactors. Yet the fact that nuclear power is back on the political agenda, and being discussed seriously rather than dismissed outright, marks a significant change.

Whether SMRs or thorium-based fuels ever become part of Norway’s future energy system remains to be seen, but the debate shows no sign of disappearing.

Thorium Resources and Research

One reason nuclear energy continues to surface in Norway’s debates is the country’s vast deposits of thorium, a radioactive element often described as a potential alternative to uranium.

Estimates suggest Norway holds some of the world’s largest reserves, particularly in the Fen Complex near Ulefoss in Telemark.

Thorium has long been hailed as a possible “safer” nuclear fuel. Unlike uranium-235, it is not directly fissile, which makes it less suitable for nuclear weapons. In theory, thorium-based reactors could produce less long-lived waste and operate with a lower risk of meltdown.

For a country like Norway, with abundant thorium but no tradition of uranium mining, this seemed like a natural fit.

From the 2000s onwards, various Norwegian research projects explored thorium fuel cycles, often in partnership with international institutions. The Halden reactor, before its closure in 2018, hosted experiments testing thorium-based fuels. Politicians occasionally floated the idea of Norway leading a “thorium renaissance.”

Yet so far, the technology has not progressed beyond the experimental stage. Developing reactors specifically designed for thorium would require enormous investment and international cooperation.

Critics argue that by the time such systems are commercially viable, other clean energy solutions from offshore wind to battery storage may already dominate.

Still, thorium remains part of Norway’s nuclear conversation. For supporters, it symbolises untapped potential and technological innovation. For sceptics, it highlights the risk of chasing a dream that has remained elusive for more than half a century.

Public Opinion and the Wider Debate

For most of the late 20th century, Norwegians were firmly against nuclear power. Surveys in the aftermath of Chernobyl showed overwhelming opposition, and with hydropower meeting almost all domestic demand, few saw any reason to change course.

Nuclear energy was often associated with danger, waste, and foreign accidents rather than opportunities at home.

In recent years, the picture has shifted. A new generation of voters is more focused on climate change than on the Cold War, and many are open to reconsidering nuclear energy as part of a broader low-carbon mix.

Opinion polls now show a more divided society: while scepticism remains strong, especially among older Norwegians, support for exploring nuclear options has grown steadily since the 2010s.

Debates in parliament and the media often reflect this split. Proponents highlight the need for reliable, carbon-free energy in a future where electricity demand will rise and hydropower alone may not suffice.

Critics counter that nuclear projects are too costly, too slow, and unnecessary when Norway can instead expand wind, solar, and grid connections to Europe.

In short, nuclear energy remains a live but unsettled question in Norway. What began as a post-war scientific curiosity has evolved into a long-running national debate, shaped by global events, local resources, and shifting political winds.

Whether Norway ever builds its first commercial nuclear reactor is still uncertain, but the conversation is more active now than at any point in the past forty years.