Abstract
This study explores the paradox of climate change denial among Norwegian tourists, a group from a nation celebrated for environmental leadership yet ranked among the highest aviation emitters. Based on 30 qualitative interviews, the research identifies 2 key denial strategies: interpretative denial, which downplays climate change through personal benefits and symbolic actions, and implicatory denial, which manifests as psychological, moral, and political excuses such as apathy, helplessness, and optimism bias. These strategies are shaped by socio-cultural values like national pride, economic pragmatism, trust in technology, and care for nature, reflecting Norway’s dual identity as an oil-dependent society and environmental advocate. The findings reveal that denial is not merely an individual psychological response, but a socially organized phenomenon influenced by neoliberal ideology. This study highlights the need for systemic interventions to address entrenched denial and foster sustainable tourism practices.
Keywords
Introduction
Despite overwhelming scientific evidence of climate change, denial persists in various forms. This study situates climate change denial within the broader context of tourism as a social phenomenon, exploring how it reflects and reinforces social changes such as mobility, consumption practices, and the search for freedom. We qualitatively examine climate change denial among Norwegian tourists. While most Norwegians do not identify as climate change deniers (CICERO, 2025), and Norwegian authorities promote the country as an environmental pioneer (Anker, 2018; Nissen, 2023), the reality is more complex. Affluent Norway ranks among the highest in Europe for domestic flights per capita (Aas, 2025; Eurostat, 2025) and is third globally in domestic aviation CO2 emissions per capita (Klenner et al., 2024). Additionally, just a few years ago, Norway scored the lowest in Europe on environmental awareness (PERITIA, 2022). This paradox highlights the intersection of national identity, socio-cultural values, and tourism mobilities, revealing how tourism practices are embedded in broader structures of privilege and environmental contradictions (Viken and Heimtun, 2024). As Norgaard (2006b: pp. 354, 357) observed in her study of Bygdaby, Norway, climate change denial often involves “negotiating a slippery zone of knowing and not knowing” which creates a “double reality” of maintaining normalcy while holding troubling knowledge at a distance.
Tourism and climate change mitigation might in some ways be incompatible, as tourism socially and culturally are constructed through promises of freedom from responsibilities and freedom to indulge (Caruana and Crane, 2011; Jafari, 1987). However, tourists do not live in a vacuum and most of them are aware of climate change and the impacts of consumption practices. The study of tourists’ climate change denial provides a lens to examine how individual behaviors and attitudes are shaped by broader socio-cultural and economic structures, including neoliberal ideologies and the normalization of high-carbon lifestyles. Research on tourists’ climate change denial has primarily been explained by psychological theories addressing attitude behavior gaps or cognitive dissonance (Dolnicar and Demeter, 2024; Font and Hindley, 2017; Juvan et al., 2016; Juvan and Dolnicar, 2014; Pratt and Tolkach, 2023). A few other studies have included broader sociological theories to address the social contexts underpinning such denial (Hall et al., 2015; Hanna et al., 2016; Hibbert et al., 2013; Sodero and Stoddart, 2015). Despite these studies, tourists’ climate change denial is still an under-researched wicked problem (Weaver et al., 2022), particularly in a country like Norway.
Psychosocial dynamics and discursive barriers to sustainable transport behaviors was the focus in Hanna and Adams (2019) study on sustainable tourists’ climate change denial. It showed that they enacted culturally and socially constructed discourses, such as convenience, entitlement, and individualism, to manage the dissonance. Like us, Hanna and Adams drew on insights from Cohen (2001, 1996) and Norgaard (2006a, 2006b, 2011) on interpretative denial, which is about rationalization of inaction, and implicatory denial, which is about excuses for not acting responsibly. Hanna and Adams (2019: p. 202) call for more research on how climate change denial is socially organized and how it “locks individuals into particular practices.” We respond to this by focusing on the Norwegian context and by not limiting the investigation to “green” tourists. In line with Brulle and Norgaard (2019), we give attention to the social, cultural, and moral dimensions shaping these practices. Thus, by situating climate change denial among privileged Norwegians, we include collective values, and ideologies to unpack how these structures shape perceptions and behaviors leading to the continuation of unsustainable travel practices. Our research questions are: (1) How do Norwegian tourists, through interpretative and implicatory denial, rationalize and excuse their mobile lifestyles while acknowledging the climate crisis? (2) How do socio-cultural values and norms, rooted in national identity and Western tourism practices, shape these tourists’ climate change denials?
Norway: A fertile ground for climate change denial?
The identity of Norwegians is often defined by a strong connection to nature, as well as cultural ideals and societal practices such as freedom, equality, morality, and an idealization of the simple life (Witoszek, 1998). These values are accompanied by high levels of trust in the social order and political system (Christensen and Lægreid, 2005). Historically rooted, these principles have shaped a national self-understanding centered on respect for nature, social justice, and freedom “bound by law” (Sørensen, 2001, quoted in Witoszek and Sørensen, 2018: p. 42). This self-understanding has played a key role in the development of a socially sustainable welfare state, fostering both national pride and the potential for broader environmental engagement. Norwegian distinctiveness is often associated with traits such as “modesty, urge for equality, peasant romanticism, morality, idealization of a simple life and anxiety for all sorts of differences” (Eriksen, 1993, quoted in Nylenna, 2006: p. 10). However, pinpointing uniquely Norwegian traits is challenging, as so-called national characteristics may be shared with other cultures. Nevertheless, these values provide a strong foundation for environmental awareness. At the same time, they are challenged by commercial trends, neoliberal policies, and the nation’s reliance on oil and gas extraction.
Norway’s environmental and oil policies represent a complex duality. On the one hand, Norway demonstrated an early commitment to environmental governance by establishing the first Ministry of Environment in the world in 1972 (Bang and Lahn, 2020). Norwegian authorities have sought to position the country as a “pioneer” in environmental matters (Anker, 2018). It has taken a lead in pro-environmental practices, with widespread ownership of hybrid and electric vehicles (Fridstrøm, 2021), which increasingly has become a socio-cultural norm. Additionally, 88% of the country’s electricity consumption is derived from hydropower (Statkraft, n.d.). On the other hand, Norway started oil extraction in 1971, and since then oil and gas have provided significant economic benefits and supported the welfare state. The Norwegian government, thus, remains hesitant to limit oil extraction, even in sensitive regions like the Arctic (Malm and Collective, 2021).
To manage the relationship between climate change and oil extraction, there exists a belief that “we Norwegians are uniquely capable of producing oil and gas and saving the planet at the same time,” with claims that “Norwegian oil and gas are exceptionally clean” (Malm and Collective, 2021: 74). Moreover, the government has promoted geoengineering initiatives, such as global carbon capture storage and tradable carbon emission quotas, to address climate change cost-effectively, in other countries (Anker, 2018; Asdal, 2014). Such measures are markers of neoliberal environmentalism (Ciplet and Roberts, 2017). Norwegian climate politics, thus, have remained relatively weak, overshadowed by the more powerful Ministry of Finance, prioritizing economic growth over environmental concerns (Asdal, 2014; Boasson and Lahn, 2016). The separation of oil and climate issues into different ministries has allowed Norway to pursue parallel tracks without confronting the inherent contradictions (Boasson and Lahn, 2016). Although, Norway is not a full-fledged neoliberal society as public ownership and the welfare state still are strong (Heiret, 2024), its environmental politics, also in tourism (Viken and Heimtun, Forthcoming), is based on the legacy of the Brundtland-report (Our Common Future) from 1987, with its focus on economic growth to achieve environmental protection (Bernstein, 2002).
Media coverage often frames climate change as a distant or intangible issue, which may reinforce public disengagement and denial. Ryghaug and Skjølsvold (2016) argue that balanced media reporting practices, public perceptions of impacts and the urgency to act, and political inertia dynamics interact to shape a skeptical discourse around climate science claims in Norway. For instance, in the early 2000s, media storylines of catastrophic local environmental impacts and scientific disagreements regarding the causes of climate change, gave voice to climate skepticism (Ryghaug, 2006). In 2013, the notion of “the green shift” was introduced by a Norwegian journalist (Ytterstad and Bødker, 2022: 1291). This term established itself as a domestic way of communicating diffuse climate changes. The mainstream take on the green shift is as an “economic opportunity and scientific necessity” and it is used to support the argument for “new drilling for oil as part of the solution to the climate crisis” (Ytterstad and Bødker, 2022: 1304).
The PERITIA (2022) report reveals that Norwegians are more skeptical of climate change research compared to citizens of other European countries. They exhibit lower levels of concern about its consequences, both personally and for the country, and are less willing to vote for parties with strong environmental policies (Gullberg and Aardal, 2019). Similarly, CICERO (2024) demonstrates that while a significant majority of the population acknowledge the reality and negative impacts of climate change and the role of human activity, only a minority express strong concerns or feel a personal responsibility to reduce emissions or support climate policies. Flottum (2017) finds that Norwegians agree on the need for action, but there is disagreement on the allocation of responsibility. Many express a vague willingness to act while others call for clearer leadership and action from authorities and politicians. According to Aasen (2017) Norwegians with egalitarian values, such as fair distribution of resources and wealth, show higher concern for climate change than inhabitants with individualistic values, such as limited state regulation and control.
Norwegians’ reactions to global climate change news have manifested in a sense of helplessness, vague calls for action: “the gravity of the climate crisis is placed at a distance, temporally and spatially” (Moe et al., 2026: 14). Living in a wealthy country situated in the northern hemisphere, so far not overly affected by rising sea levels, extreme weather events and food insecurity, the inhabitants remain relatively insulated from the effects of climate change (Norgaard, 2011). Thus, the public perceive climate change as an intangible and ambivalent topic which is difficult to engage with (Høegh-Krohn et al., 2025). The public also express hope for technological innovations (Nordø et al., 2023) and many strongly support continued oil extraction (Opinion, 2022).
Thus, Norwegian socio-cultural values and norms reflect a complex interplay of environmental concern, care for nature, national pride, economic pragmatism, modesty and equality, trust in technological solutions, and neoliberal influences. This context, shaped by the duality of environmental aspirations and economic priorities, provides a foundation for understanding the broader dynamics of climate change denial in the context of tourism mobilities.
Climate change denial
Climate change denial has been a significant area of study since 2010, particularly in Anglo-American countries (Björnberg et al., 2017). Poortinga et al. (2011: p. 1016) note that terms such as “skepticism, cynicism, denial, uncertainty, and ambivalence” are often used interchangeably. However, climate change skepticism rarely reflects sound scientific inquiry, often representing “wilful ignorance” aimed at reinforcing ideological convictions (Wyatt and Brisman, 2017: 331). Wilful ignorance, deliberately created and sustained, cannot be resolved simply by providing more knowledge, unlike ignorance caused by lack of information (Proctor, 2008, cited in Wyatt and Brisman, 2017). As Wyatt and Brisman (2017: p. 334) explain, “It is here—with the deliberate production of doubt or uncertainty—that ignorance is made and maintained and becomes denial.”
Sociological studies of climate change denial are shaped by various theoretical frameworks. Petersen et al. (2019) introduce ideological denial, which appraises neoliberal lifestyles while avoiding root causes of climate change. This includes skepticism, which highlights scientific uncertainties to block societal changes; techno-optimism, which relies on technological solutions like geoengineering and renewable energy; individualism, which emphasizes lifestyle changes over systemic reforms; and market-based approaches like carbon markets and green growthism. Brulle and Norgaard (2019: p. 893) highlight “powerful processes that work at individual, institutional, and overall societal levels” that maintain the status quo, focusing on social inertia and the slow societal change. Thus, many countries’ green transition agendas reflect ideological denial, maintaining climate capitalism (Petersen et al., 2019). This is also reflected in tourists’ denial when they perceive travel restrictions as threats to consumerism and Western lifestyles (Font and Hindley, 2017). Brulle and Norgaard (2019) argue that addressing climate change in a just or radical manner would disrupt the social order, potentially causing cultural trauma.
Norgaard (2011) acknowledges psychological explanations like cognitive dissonance but emphasizes sociological accounts that explain emotions in denial. She highlights the bidirectional relationships between micro- (individual emotions), meso- (cultural norms), and macro- (political and economic policies) levels in society. Her concept of cultural denial therefore emphasizes that denial behaviors are socially organized, shaped by collective norms and values, practices, and narratives that normalize inaction and justify harmful behaviors. On an individual level, climate change disrupts habitus, triggering emotions like guilt and anxiety, leading to denial behaviors like wilful ignorance, two-track thinking, and attacks on climate science (Brulle and Norgaard, 2019). In Norway, cultural denial in tourism normalizes high-emission activities like flying through shared narratives about long distances between places in the country and prioritizing personal enjoyment over environmental responsibility (Aasen et al., 2023).
Denial and privilege are intertwined, as people in wealthy nations normalize environmentally harmful behaviors and avoid confronting their complicity in climate change (Norgaard, 2011). Norgaard (2006a) describes a “cultural toolkit” that societies use to avoid confronting global warming. This involves emotional management, identity protection, and cultural narratives that selectively focus on certain realities while ignoring others. Norgaard (2011) shows how privileged Norwegians use narratives of innocence, invisibility, and normalization to manage the cognitive dissonance caused by awareness of environmental harm and continued participation in harmful behavior. For example, they justify high carbon emissions from international travel or oil production by emphasizing cultural or economic necessity.
Norgaard (2006a, 2006b, 2011) builds on Cohen’s (2001: p. 51) framework, which defines denial as “the maintenance of social worlds in which an undesirable situation (event, condition, phenomenon) is unrecognized, ignored, or made to seem normal.” Denial has three forms: literal, interpretative, and implicatory denial, offering a typology for understanding societal responses to climate change. Literal denial asserts that “nothing has happened” or “nothing is happening” (Cohen, 1996: 523), often attacking the credibility of observers and defending traditional values and status quo (Wullenkord and Reese, 2021). For example, tourists may acknowledge that flights produce emissions but dismiss climate change as propaganda or conspiracy (Hanna and Adams, 2019). While literal denial is less common in Europe (Björnberg et al., 2017; Wullenkord and Reese, 2021), it persists among specific groups, such as far-right political supporters, even in Norway (Holgersen, 2024).
Interpretative denial reinterprets facts to fit alternative narratives (Norgaard, 2006b). For instance, rising temperatures might be attributed to natural causes rather than global warming, reflecting the claim that “What is Happening is Really Something Else” (Cohen, 1996: 525). Norgaard (2006b) shows how cultural narratives support interpretive denial by deflecting responsibility and legitimizing inaction. In tourism, interpretative denial involves tourists downplaying or dismissing environmental concerns, viewing them as exaggerated, superficial, or as transient trends (Hanna and Adams, 2019). It is also present when tourists reinterpret their actions as harmless, question the reliability of environmental information and display skepticism toward environmental measures (Juvan and Dolnicar, 2014).
Implicatory denial also acknowledges climate change but avoids meaningful action (Cohen, 1996). As Cohen (2001: p. 8) explains, it involves avoiding “the psychological, political or moral implications that conventionally follow.” Norgaard (2006b: p. 358, 2006a) emphasizes that implicatory denial often is reinforced by social norms and values, cultural narratives, and emotion management practices that keep troubling information “at arm’s length.” For example, individuals avoid thinking about global warming due to emotions like guilt, helplessness, and fear, conflicting with values like optimism and control (Norgaard, 2006a). In tourism implicatory denial is prevalent among self-defined “eco” or “sustainable” tourists, who justify environmentally harmful behaviors (Hanna and Adams, 2019). For instance, these tourists construct positive self-identities as responsible travelers by emphasizing sustainable behaviors, mitigating guilt, and maintaining their ethical image.
In Norway, Norgaard (2006b) identified three strategies of interpretive denial, often overlapping with implicatory denial. First, selective interpretations of “mythic Norway” emphasize a national identity rooted in closeness to nature. This idealized narrative deflects criticism of the country’s role in global warming, portraying the nation as innocent and pure despite its economic reliance on oil production. This narrative or stock story also serves as a tool for emotion management, helping residents avoid guilt and cognitive dissonance (Norgaard, 2006a, 2006b). Tourists also produce stock stories to justify flying, claiming it is a reward or infrequent act, minimizing moral conflicts (Hanna and Adams, 2019). Similarly, impact neglecters downplay tourism’s impact, question environmental information, or dismiss the long-term effects (Juvan et al., 2016).
Second, perspectival selectivity is employed to manage unpleasant emotions and minimize personal or national responsibility (Norgaard, 2006b). For example, societies prioritizing economic growth may emphasize industrial benefits while downplaying climate impacts, thereby avoiding guilt. Narratives like “Norway is a little land” compare Norway’s impact to larger nations, fostering a “denial of self-involvement” (Norgaard, 2006b: 358, 359). This denial of self-involvement can also be seen as a form of implicatory denial, as it acknowledges the existence of global warming but deflects responsibility for addressing it. Strategies such as victim-blaming, diffusing or displacing responsibility, and self-righteous comparisons reinforce this denial (Opotow and Weiss, 2000). These strategies collectively allow individuals to avoid acknowledging their personal contributions to environmental problems. In tourism, perspectival selectivity appears when tourists justify emissions by comparing their actions to larger polluters, worse behavior that tourism, and the worse actions of other tourists (Juvan and Dolnicar, 2014; Pratt and Tolkach, 2023).
Third, a claim to virtue strategy reframes harmful actions as beneficial, making them appear necessary (Norgaard, 2006b). For example, Norwegian oil is framed as “cleaner” than other countries’ oil (Malm and Collective, 2021). This reframing aligns with implicatory denial, as it allows individuals and policymakers to justify harmful actions while avoiding the moral imperative to change their behavior. In tourism, travelers justify flying by emphasizing benefits, such as supporting airlines financially during the pandemic, creating meaningful experiences with loved ones, supporting local communities or buying carbon offsets (Juvan and Dolnicar, 2014; Pratt and Tolkach, 2023). These justifications overshadow the negative climate impacts, allowing individuals to maintain their travel habits without confronting their environmental consequences. Similarly, Norgaard (2006a) argues that individuals reframe inaction by focusing on small, manageable actions, such as recycling, to maintain a sense of moral adequacy while avoiding larger systemic changes.
Methodology
This qualitative study adopts a constructionist approach (Brinkmann, 2013), emphasizing the co-construction of meaning through interactions between researchers and informants, as well as the socio-cultural contexts shaping the tourists’ perspectives. It is part of a 4-year research project focusing on tourism in Norway during and in the years after COVID-19. The data comprise 43 semi-structured interviews with tourists conducted in late August/early September 2021, August 2022, and late July/early August 2023 (Table 1). Except for four interviews, all was done by both researchers. After excluding 13 interviews that did not align with the research questions, the final dataset comprised 30 interviews with 60 informants. These informants included 30 tourists, 16 locals, and 14 business travelers, with 40 aged 40 or older and 20 in their twenties or thirties (25 males, 35 females). Twelve interviews were dyadic, 10 individual, and 8 group interviews. Group informants had pre-existing relationships (e.g. couples, family, coworkers). The interviews, all conducted in Norwegian, varied in duration from 11 to 98 minutes (average 36 minutes). All interviews were taped and transcribed verbatim.
Informants list with pseudonyms, type of relationship, age group, number of interviewers, duration of interview, year of interview and type of informant.
The recruitment of interviewees was conducted using convenience sampling methods, which included approaching potential informants in various locations such as the cafeteria at North Cape Hall, a hotel restaurant, and at a local museum and tourist information office in the town of Honningsvåg. Additionally, snowball sampling was employed, where an acquaintance disseminated the researchers’ information letter to friends. Purposive sampling was also utilized, particularly for arranging two interviews with three locals, who were known to the researchers from previous professional interactions, at their places of employment. Ethical considerations were prioritized throughout the study. Informants were provided with information about the research objectives and gave informed consent prior to participation. All data were securely stored in compliance with guidelines from the Norwegian Agency for Shared Services in Education and Research, which approved the study.
In 2021, interview questions focused on holidays before COVID-19, pandemic-related travel measures, and the interplay between tourism, COVID-19, and climate change. In 2022, with the reopening of society, questions shifted to tourism mobilities, climate change, and other crises like inflation, with less focus on the pandemic. In 2023, questions explored personal and societal relationships with tourism and climate change, emphasizing personal actions, social responsibility, technology, freedom, democracy, and government regulations.
The interviews were analyzed using a theoretical thematic analysis (Braun and Clarke, 2006) which involved a deductive approach to coding and theme development. The data analysis was done by one of the researchers who focused on identifying patterns of interpretative and implicatory denial, as well as underlying socio-cultural values and norms such as individualism, collectivism, and environmental stewardship. The analysis operated at both semantic and latent levels (Braun and Clarke, 2006), uncovering explicit statements and implicit ideologies shaping informants’ meaning-making processes.
The coding process involved systematically organizing data extracts into initial codes using Word documents. These codes were iteratively refined and grouped into broader themes through multiple rounds of analysis. To ensure rigor, both researchers discussed the coding framework. Two key themes were constructed: (1) Rationalizing the climate crisis: interpretative denial, which highlights how informants downplay the severity of climate change, and (2) Excuses for not caring and acting: implicatory denial, which explores the reasons informants provide for their lack of action despite acknowledging the issue. These themes reveal a complex interplay between individual beliefs, socio-cultural values and norms, and broader systemic factors (Figure 1).

Thematic map of interpretative and implicatory denial.
A limitation of this study is the absence of informants who have given up traveling during their holidays to reduce their personal carbon footprint. Including such informants would have allowed for a more comprehensive understanding of the spectrum of attitudes and actions related to climate-conscious tourism in Norway. Another limitation is that the research questions evolved over time in response to changing societal contexts and the researchers’ interests. While this may have introduced some variability in the data, it also enabled the study to remain relevant and responsive to emerging issues. Although pre-defined research questions and consistent interview guides across all data collection periods might have enhanced the rigor of the analysis, the iterative approach adopted here reflects the dynamic nature of the phenomena under investigation (Polkinghorne, 2005). Climate change and tourism mobilities have been themes across all interview rounds, gradually becoming the central focus of the study.
A further limitation of this study relates to the application of Norgaard’s (2006a, 2006b, 2011) and Cohen’s (1996, 2001) theoretical frameworks. While this framework has been instrumental in identifying patterns of interpretative and implicatory denial, it has proven challenging to distinguish clearly between these two forms. The findings reveal overlaps, as both forms often rely on selective reasoning and justifications that allow informants to reconcile their awareness of climate change with carbon-intensive behaviors. For instance, some informants who downplayed the severity of climate change (interpretative denial) simultaneously excused their inaction by emphasizing feelings of helplessness or the perceived insignificance of individual actions (implicatory denial). This overlap highlights the complexity of categorizing denial behaviors and suggests that these forms of denial may be more interconnected than the framework implies. While this does not invalidate the framework, it underscores the need for a nuanced approach when applying it to empirical data.
Norwegian tourists and climate change denial
In this section, we will examine interpretative and implicatory denial, as well as the underlying socio-cultural values and norms related to tourism mobilities. While eight informants expressed pro-environmental values, the majority demonstrated interpretative denial through selective interpretations, perspectival selectivity, and claims to virtue. All informants, including those with pro-environmental values, exhibited implicatory denial to some extent. For instance, despite their pro-environmental stance, these informants still traveled by plane, with five of them flying to the destination where the interviews took place. As they did not fully take personal responsibility for reducing emissions through their tourism mobilities, the analysis does not clearly distinguish between categories of tourists.
Theme one: Rationalizing the climate crisis: Interpretative denial
Regarding interpretive denial, some of the interviewees rationalized that climate change was primarily driven by natural processes and cycles, and of natural variations, based on geological, astronomic, and climate historical factors. Some of them voiced skepticism toward climate science, thereby voicing selective interpretations:
But that there are changes, yes, there probably are.
How do we notice it in our country?
It’s clear that the winters have become increasingly snowless. But we’ve had that before too. But then it mostly went in seven-year cycles. Every seventh year, you had very snowy winters in Eastern Norway. And then you could have consecutive winters with less snow.
Do you believe in the climate science that says we are approaching a point where global warming can hardly be stopped?
I believe it’s natural cycles. . . . They have grown grain in Greenland before. There have been palm trees on Svalbard.
At the same time, they also acknowledged that human activities had some impact on the environment, but not as the primary cause:
No one has convinced me that it’s directly due to climate changes. There are other things, it goes in cycles over some years, some thousands of years.
That doomsday feeling about it, are you there, do you think it’s going to go bang?
No.
I don’t think so either.
Because?
I believe it goes in cycles. But I have no doubt that we need to think about the environment.
Some interviewees also blamed the media for constantly exaggerating extreme temperatures and weather, not trusting climate science. They viewed this information as exaggerated and fear-inducing, which seemed to reduce their sense of personal responsibility and led them to consider climate science as politically motivated.
Are there any climate warnings that we need to take seriously?
I’ve lived a few years, and in my life, I should have frozen to death. And I should have drowned in rising sea levels, and now I should have sweated to death. For me, it feels a bit like . . .
Empty threats.
Yes, because there was supposed to be an ice age, and the sea level was supposed to rise, and now I’m going to die of heat.
It’s like threat propaganda?
I get that impression sometimes.
Other informants blamed politicians for their ineffective and misguided environmental measures and politics, and their contradictory explanations, that resulted in scaring people, leading some to question the messages, and some to stop listening. “Much of what is focused on can scare people . . . I think about the children, they get scared” (Woman 23).
Interviewees also rationalized in other ways that diminished the need to take drastic measures such as changing their comfortable, mobile lifestyles. As a selective interpretation, some considered that cruise ships were not that environmentally unfriendly and that electricity from land would help a lot: “It’s better that they [tourists] take a ship from port to port rather than flying from port to port,” argued Woman 20 who thereby expressed techno-optimism and trust in innovation. Views on tourism mobilities were also imbued with perspectival selectivity in that informants voiced economic pragmatism: “They [tourists] contribute to sustaining local businesses” (Woman 20) and “If we don’t travel. . . . Maybe we don’t need the income that tourism provides, but then there’s Greece, which would collapse” (Woman 11).
Several interviewees focused on how travel brought enjoyment, well-being, comfort and learning, thereby avoiding reflecting on environmentally better alternatives. Although during the pandemic most of them holidayed in Norway, the habit of and desire for traveling abroad had not changed much. Many of them desired warmth and sun. In navigating the tension between environmental awareness and the desire to travel abroad, in the quote below Woman 13 justified her culturally constructed need for international holidays by highlighting the limitations of domestic travel: It’s nice to travel around Norway, but I feel like you get a bit tired of it—not tired of it, but you feel like you’ve seen it . . . One often goes to southern destinations to sunbathe. There’s not that much sun in Norway.
The interviewees also selectively focused on other aspects to rationalize the severe effects of climate change: tourism mobilities are not contributing that much to climate change, the ocean plastic pollution in Asian destinations is more damaging than rising temperatures, aviation has become more environmentally friendly, and other industries pollute more than tourism, it was claimed. Moreover, many interviewees justified their low engagement in the global climate crisis by talking about other minor moral actions. They spoke about never leaving trash on hikes in nature, being good at sorting their litter, returning bottles for deposit, picking up cigarette butts, not throwing away food, saving water, buying second hand clothes, avoiding plastic bags when shopping, not traveling that much in the holidays, driving electric vehicles, taking the bus, and living modestly. By focusing on such minor symbolic actions, they avoided reflecting on the more profound questions in the climate change debate. These narratives were imbued with claims to virtue that signaled their moral responsibility, but also respect for nature, and egalitarianism in the sense that also small actions were seen as meaningful and virtuous. As an example: I sort trash and drive an electric car too. I pick up litter on the street, unlike many others. We were just in Moi, and when I arrived at a tourist spot, I cleaned up the parking lot. There were so much plastic and garbage. I took the time to do it (Man 8).
Selective interpretations, perspectival selectivity and claims to virtue were also evident when interviewees talked about Norway’s role in climate change. The country’s emissions were interpreted as minimal in a global context, and reductions in Norway would not make a difference. By emphasizing moral leadership, downplaying global responsibility, and critiquing the efforts of other nations, the informants constructed a narrative that justified limited action while maintaining a sense of moral advantage: Sometimes you feel like we must do so much in Norway, be the best in class. Pay a lot extra to travel by plane, air passenger tax. Look at how it is in the rest of the world compared to Norway. Then you think (Man 17).
Moreover, several interviewees argued that Norwegian oil production was more environmentally friendly and cleaner than in other parts of the world, that it still was needed for transportation and the production of goods, reflecting both techno-optimism and national pride. In one interview this claim to virtue was countered by pointing to Norwegians’ feelings of superiority:
We’ve also heard that Norwegian oil is cleaner than other countries’ oil.
Oil is oil.
You don’t trust it.
We like to think that we are a bit better than others.
We are a bit self-righteous.
We probably are.
Are we better than others?
When you look at the newspapers from other countries, we are probably not better, we are probably a bit worse.
In summary, the interviewees used selective interpretations to rationalize climate change as natural, perspectival selectivity to prioritize personal and economic benefits, and claims to virtue to emphasize minor actions and maintain a sense of moral responsibility. These strategies collectively allowed them to navigate the tension between environmental awareness and the desire to maintain their current lifestyles. By focusing on manageable, symbolic actions, they avoided addressing the systemic changes needed to mitigate climate change. Norway’s role in the global climate crisis was minimized, with informants emphasizing the country’s moral leadership while downplaying its global responsibility. Thus, interpretative denial enabled them to reconcile their values with behaviors that contributed to the climate crisis, both at personal and national levels.
Theme two: Excuses for not caring and acting: Implicatory denial
In this section, we will discuss the informants’ rationales for not caring about and acting on the known reality of climate change by pointing to psychological, political and moral excuses for not changing their mobile lifestyles.
Several interviewees justified their inaction by expressing psychological excuses such as evolutionary egoism, optimism about humanity’s resilience, feelings of apathy, and fear or helplessness. For instance, one informant referenced evolutionary egoism, suggesting that humans are inherently wired to prioritize immediate survival over long-term risks:
It [climate change] doesn’t involve much emotion
No, it’s not like I get scared. No. . . . we think about it. I never did before. You think about it now. But I don’t know if I would have skipped going on a trip. No.
We do the same, but think a little more?
Yes, exactly. We are humans, there is an evolutionary theory here. We have managed to survive disasters before. There will surely be some kind of rescue here too. I believe that.
This statement reflects socio-cultural values of techno-optimism, pragmatism, and optimism, where Woman 22 believes that humanity will overcome climate challenges without requiring drastic personal or collective action. By framing climate change as a challenge that will naturally resolve itself, she avoids the psychological discomfort of acknowledging the need for significant changes.
At the same time, many informants expressed feelings of apathy and helplessness in excuse of inaction, often emphasizing the limits of individual agency. For example: “I see the ice melting, I see the glaciers are in bad shape . . . I’ve noticed all this. But what can I do?” (Woman 18). “It becomes so overwhelming when you as an individual think about what you can do to prevent this . . . At times, I definitely feel helpless.” (Man 13). These statements illustrate how the complexity and scale of climate change can foster to a sense of powerlessness, leading individuals to feel that their actions are insignificant. This perceived helplessness allowed them to disengage morally and emotionally to avoid the burden of responsibility. By focusing on their perceived limited influence, these informants also avoided confronting the need for systemic change or collective action. This reflects cognitive dissonance, as they reconciled their awareness of climate change with their inaction by convincing themselves that their efforts would be futile. For them, taking personal responsibility, such as traveling less or differently, felt meaningless.
A pro-environmental interviewee sought to explain this reasoning: How to get people to care more? I think small actions matter. I think people often don’t care because they don’t see that it can have an impact. . . . They just lose purpose. If everyone thinks the same, it’s not easy to make a change. . . . Talking together. That’s what I think can help (Woman 19).
By focusing on small actions, Woman 19 suggests a way to re-engage people, encouraging them to become a collective force contributing to larger systemic changes. Similarly, Woman 8 emphasized the need for collective efforts in raising attitudes and awareness regarding caring for nature, particularly to encourage the younger generation to be more considerate: I think it requires a change in attitudes and awareness. There needs to be a collective effort. I think about the new generation, if they are to be more considerate, we must lead by example. Then our children and grandchildren can adopt the same mindset. We can start with small things. And one thing I really enjoy is using nature. I see that the kids do too. . . . I’ve always been focused on making sure the kids understand how important those moments in nature are. . . . When you care for nature, it’s easier to take care of the environment (Woman 8).
One key topic discussed was the role of politicians in setting travel restrictions. Most informants expressed opposition to restrictions such as imposing additional environmental taxes or travel quotas. Many emphasized their desire to continue traveling abroad without compromising their “standard of living and comfort” (Man 6). For example, Man 22 argued, “Yes, we will continue as before and keep the development going,” while Woman 31 added, “As long as it doesn’t affect anything, we should just be allowed to continue.” Similarly, Man 9 stated, “I do think that it’s possible to take care of the environment in a reasonable way. It must not come with a cost. If it comes with restrictions on travel, no.” These statements reflect socio-cultural norms of individual freedom and personal comfort over collective environmental stewardship, which would have been expected giving Norwegians strong connection to nature.
Some interviewees expressed strong emotional reactions to travel restrictions, viewing them as an infringement on individual freedom. For instance, one informant stated: “Personally, I would react with protest” (Woman 7), while another said: “Then I would have to sell my motorbike, . . . and would feel very sad and restricted” (Man 16). Others doubted the effectiveness of such measures, arguing that people would find ways to circumvent them: “That it would not work” (Woman 27). Some informants, reflecting a sense of modesty, justified their continued travel by claiming they did not travel excessively and could therefore do so “with good consciousness” (Woman 31). Informants also framed the freedom to travel as a cultural value and civic right, with one stating, “I believe that those of us who have grown up in a travel culture still hold on to it” (Man 4). These responses reflect a moral framing of travel as a cultural “right” and restrictions as an unjust limitation of personal freedom.
When confronted with the notion of flight shame, some interviewees expressed modesty, indifference, anger, or attacked the messenger. For example, one informant stated: “I do not fly as much as other people . . . so my contribution would not matter” (Woman 26), while another argued: “If you restrict people’s freedom of movement, you end up with a totalitarian society” (Man 1). Many disliked flying restrictions, one woman reacting strongly: “Then I would have been pissed off” (Woman 27). Another informant dismissed Greta Thunberg, stating: “I don’t care for her, she is a spoiled brat” (Woman 31). Thus, the informants prioritized the socio-cultural value of individual freedom over sustainability.
Instead of imposing universal travel restrictions, some informants argued that politicians should reduce their own extensive travel practices to demonstrate accountability and to regain trust. For example, one informant suggested: “Maybe the politicians can start with restricting their travel to three times per year” (Woman 34), while her husband added: “. . . they stay at the most expensive hotels, they fly the finest planes, they use the best cars” (Man 24). This critique reflects a belief that political leaders must lead as examples to uphold public trust and legitimacy in climate matters. Many informants viewed it as wrong to “. . .place the responsibility on individuals” (Woman 6). However, one informant noted: “It depends on what the intention is and how it is presented. I believe that information can make me change my awareness of things” (Woman 30). Her co-worker added: “. . .there is always someone who needs to be told what to do and what not to do” (Woman 29). These statements exemplify the value freedom as bounded by law and highlight the need for moral guidance and global justice from authorities.
In general, many interviewees critiqued political inaction, expressed distrust in politicians, and some criticized Norway’s continued oil production, using these political narratives to place the responsibility on an institutional level. Interviewees argued that politicians made decisions that did not result in actions, that they were involved in political horse-trading in climate politics. As an example:
Do you think the government is doing too little, too much talk and little action?
Quite a lot of talk, but I don’t think it’s easy for the politicians to do much. They also need to be voted for and liked, so I think there’s a fine line between what they can do and not do, and how quickly. I believe they need to take it gradually so that changes can be subtly introduced.
Several interviewees supported the economically pragmatic political argument for continued Norwegian oil production:
Is there a reason we dislike this issue because we live well off oil?
Clearly, it matters.
The economy in society is largely because of the oil era.
So, we live well by selling polluting oil to the rest of the world.
We do.
Without any guilt.
What would we do about it, if we weren’t to?
If we hadn’t sold it, other countries would have.
That’s it.
These responses reveal an awareness of the dilemma posed by Norway’s reliance on oil extraction and its contribution to climate change. However, the interviewees also excused continued oil production, emphasizing its economic importance and inevitability. This reflects a moral trade-off and moral disengagement, where the financial benefits of oil are prioritized over its environmental consequences.
Pro-environmental informants were critical of how politicians were two-faced related to environmental interventions and continued oil production and thereby did not take moral responsibility for climate change by holding on to neoliberal values. Even in a high trust society like Norway, when it comes to the authorities’ climate mitigation, there is evidence of distrust due to neoliberal environmental policy making and a call for more egalitarian values:
The eternal growth. It simply cannot keep going on forever. We need to start thinking about alternative solutions.
We say that, but we don’t do it.
I feel that many politicians are aware of this and constantly talk about the need to find alternative solutions and economic systems. But the changes happen either very slowly or not at all. I still think it’s very clear that profit and capital are what really drive most things.
In summary, we have demonstrated how the informants enacted implicatory denial. They expressed psychological excuses by focusing on feelings of apathy, helplessness, or optimism to avoid the emotional burden of climate change. Moral excuses were evident in how they framed travel as a cultural norm and a personal right that should not be restricted. Political excuses were about criticizing political inaction and opposing travel restrictions, environmental taxes, and reduction in oil production. Only a few of the informants supported restrictive measures and opposed the current social order.
Concluding discussion
As the climate crisis escalates, understanding the mechanisms of climate change denial within tourism is critical, as tourism is not only a significant contributor to global emissions but also a reflection of broader socio-cultural and economic transformations. This study explores how Norwegian tourists rationalize and excuse their carbon-intensive travel behaviors despite acknowledging the climate crisis and valuing nature.
Our findings reveal that most informants expressed interpretative denial through selective reasoning, perspectival selectivity, and claims to virtues to rationalize climate change as natural, prioritizing personal and economic benefits, and emphasizing relatively superficial efforts. These strategies reflect broader cultural narratives tied to Western tourism consumption, where mobility and indulgence are framed as rights rather than privileges (Bianchi and Stephenson, 2014). These strategies allowed them to maintain their lifestyles and avoiding systemic changes. Implicatory denial was evident in their lack of action, justified through psychological excuses (e.g. apathy, optimism bias) and moral arguments framing travel as a personal right. Only a minority supported restrictive measures. Thus, most informants held individualistic values and expressed status quo perspectives.
Our findings align with prior research on tourists’ denial strategies (Font and Hindley, 2017; Hibbert et al., 2013; Pratt and Tolkach, 2023). However, unlike studies that identified emotional conflict and guilt among environmentally conscious tourists (Büchs, 2017; Hanna and Adams, 2019; Juvan and Dolnicar, 2014) our informants demonstrated low emotional engagement, reflecting a normalization of high-carbon lifestyles. While previous research focused on specific denial strategies such as denial of consequences, responsibility, control, knowledge, and injury (Font and Hindley, 2017; Juvan and Dolnicar, 2014; Pratt and Tolkach, 2023), our study, like Hanna and Adams (2019), adopted broader categories of interpretative and implicatory denial, offering insights into their social organization across societal levels.
By focusing on tourism, we expand on Norgaard’s (2011) work from Norway, illustrating how denial is socially organized in a sector deeply tied to cultural norms of freedom, mobility and consumption (Caruana and Crane, 2011; Jafari, 1987). Over time, tourism has become a normalized part of life in Norway, as in many other Western societies (Bianchi and Stephenson, 2014). This normalization reflects the aestheticization of everyday life and the centrality of tourism to global economic restructuring and consumption practices (Urry, 1990). Rooted in neoliberal ideology, this normalization fosters denial strategies by enabling individuals to emotionally detach from the environmental consequences of their actions (Petersen et al., 2019).
Our findings highlight the interplay between individual beliefs and systemic factors where neoliberal values, prioritizing economic growth, technological solutions, and individual freedom (Brulle and Norgaard, 2019; Ciplet and Roberts, 2017; Norgaard, 2011), shape tourists’ actions and rationalizations. Acting ethically within this neoliberal frame is challenging, as individuals become preoccupied with personal consumption and adept at rationalizing inaction. These denial strategies, serving as emotion management tools, create a “double reality” where individuals maintain normalcy while suppressing troubling knowledge (Brulle and Norgaard, 2019; Norgaard, 2011). It is an ideological denial, embedded in Western tourism practices, contributing to the global climate crisis by sustaining selfish but environmentally destructive behaviors, which complicate efforts to address climate change.
By situating these strategies within a Norwegian context, we extend the body of work on tourists’ climate change denial by showing how national identity and socio-cultural values intersect. For example, the informants’ strong connection to nature shaped their view of climate change, often rationalizing it as part of natural cycles. This reflects a cultural norm where nature is seen as resilient and self-regulating, a perspective that fosters environmental awareness but also enables interpretive denial. Actions such as sorting trash, driving electric cars, and picking up litter reflect cultural norms of modesty, egalitarianism, and respect for nature, which are deeply embedded in Norwegian society (Norgaard, 2011; Witoszek, 1998). However, these symbolic actions often serve as emotional management tools, allowing individuals to maintain their travel-intensive lifestyles while avoiding deeper systemic changes.
Cultural norms of economic pragmatism and moral exceptionalism emerged as dominant values, which is also discussed by Nylenna (2006), and particularly related to Norway’s oil production, the country’s alleged environmental leadership, and relatively low emissions due to hydro power electricity. Techno-optimism and trust in humanity’s resilience were recurring themes, reflecting a cultural belief in progress and innovation, which has a long tradition in Norwegian public debate on climate politics (Nordø et al., 2023). This optimism aligns with a pragmatic cultural mindset that values solutions over sacrifices. These findings illustrate how socio-cultural values and norms are selectively applied to justify inaction and sustain privileged mobile lifestyles, aligning with Norgaard’s (2011) concept of a cultural toolkit.
A critical question emerging from this study is why this social order remains so resilient, even in the face of growing awareness of the severe consequences of climate change and our care for nature. Can these entrenched norms and practices be disrupted? Is there a pathway toward a more sustainable tourism future? We hope but are not certain. Brulle and Norgaard’s (2019) concept of cultural trauma suggests that societal values and denial may block transformative change, even amid existential threats. Thus, there are strong societal forces against changing status quo of tourism mobilities. Future research should explore interventions to disrupt these entrenched denial strategies, such as fostering emotional engagement among privileged tourists and industry actors, promoting collective pro-environmental action initiatives, and enforcing stricter state and international regulations on tourism emissions and consumption through cooperative efforts. Additionally, interdisciplinary approaches that integrate insights from sociology, cultural studies, and geography are essential for understanding how tourism practices can evolve to align with sustainability goals. By addressing both individual and systemic factors, we can better mitigate the climate crisis and work toward a more sustainable tourism future.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
In this paper, we have used The ChatUIT service (login) which is based on the language model ChatGPT 3.5 Turbo. OpenAI’s ChatGPT (Chat Generative Pre-trained Transformer) is used in a privacy-secure manner. We have used Generative AI for assistance with literature review or compilation of relevant sources, translation of materials (informant quotes) as part of the research process
Ethical considerations
All data were securely stored in compliance with guidelines from the Norwegian Agency for Shared Services in Education and Research (approval number 278458).
Consent to participate
Participant received a written consent information letter. Informed consent to participate was verbal.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by UiT the Arctic university of Norway (grant number 2021/1585).
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Data availability statement
Data will be made available after the end of the project in 2026 in a limited way.
