Tourism and conservation in the Arctic Circle

An editor’s journey in Svalbard highlights the push and pull between tourism growth and environmental changes.

A row of colorful houses in Longyearbyen, Svalbard.

Jenn Martins

Jenn Martins

SVALBARD, Norway — It was Aug. 10 in this Arctic archipelago, and local guides were already declaring summer over. Fresh snow, the first of the season, topped the peaks just across the bay from the capital town of Longyearbyen. 

A change in the weather didn’t appear to concern the polar bear seen through binoculars from a boat in the Isfjorden fjord north of Longyearbyen. 

Up the hill, maybe 50 yards from the shoreline, the bear was resting in the mid-day sun, presumably fat on the meat of the dead walrus visible on the shoreline below him. Occasionally the bear rolled over. Even a head turn was enough to elicit hollers of excitement from our boat of a half-dozen tourists. One of my boatmates cried with joy.

Moments later, the boat captain said, “You’re going to cry again.” He spotted a minke whale and headed toward the flock of birds that gathered to feed on the floating leftovers it had left behind. 

We caught a few glimpses of the whale surfacing. But it wouldn’t be my last encounter, so to speak, with a whale that day. That evening, I dined at a Longyearbyen restaurant called Stationen, where I ordered minke steak, legal under commercial hunting allocations established by the Norwegian government. 

The flavor was strong. Frankly, a little too gamey for me. The texture was similar to filet mignon, except a bit tougher. 

Emerging from dinner after 10 p.m., the sun hadn’t set. In fact, it wouldn’t set that night or any of the five nights I spent in Svalbard. 

Yes, this was the Arctic.

My visit to Svalbard, hosted by wilderness expedition company Basecamp Explorer, was my introduction to the Arctic culture and environment, and to the very different rhythms of daily life at 78 degrees north latitude. Longyearbyen is the most northerly town in the world of more than 1,000 residents. 

Coal mining was long the primary industry in Svalbard. More recently, though, tourism has become dominant. Last year, the Norwegian government closed the last mine in Norwegian Svalbard, though one mine continues to operate in the Russian settlement of Barentsburg, about 40 miles west of Longyearbyen.

Between 2012 and 2019, the number of annual Svalbard visitor overnights nearly doubled, from 85,000 to 167,000, according to Norwegian government data.

Tourism’s rise in Svalbard parallels the rising impact of climate change in this Arctic island chain. Between 1971 and 2017, the average temperature in Longyearbyen rose 5.2 degrees Fahrenheit, according to a 2019 study published by the Norwegian CCS Research Centre. Winter temperature increased on average by 13 degrees. 

Meanwhile, a 2025 peer-reviewed study led by the University of Bristol in England and published in the Nature Communications journal found that 91% of Svalbard glaciers are significantly shrinking, with a glacier area loss across the island chain of 310 square miles since 1985. The climate is also getting wetter. 

“Svalbard is at the front line of the climate crisis, warming at six to seven times the global average rate,” said a July 2025 study titled “Svalbard Winter Warming is Reaching a Melting Point,” which also was published in Nature Communications. 

The rapidly changing climate, coupled with the primacy of the travel industry in the Svalbard economy, is making Svalbard an important laboratory for the melding of sustainability with tourism as well as a proving ground for tour operators’ adaptability.

Svalbard’s strict regulations

Halvor Dannevig, research director for the Western Norway Research Institute, has done a series of studies on the balancing act of managing Svalbard tourism and the environment. He said that the Norwegian government has dual goals for the territory. It wants Svalbard to be the best-managed wilderness area in the world, but it also wants to maintain a significant Norwegian presence there. 

The 1920 treaty that established Norway’s control of the archipelago allows all 49 signatories to engage in commercial activities. With mining now absent, said Dannevig, it’s strategically important for Norway to boost tourism as part of an effort to discourage Russia and other signatories from establishing new enterprises.

Norway’s efforts to push for tourism growth in the delicate Arctic region was perhaps too great of a success in the previous decade, Dannevig said.

“Tourism isn’t causing many obvious harms,” he said. “It’s more of a sense that when you have a lot of cruise ships and people in smaller vessels in this previously deserted place, it kind of violates the idea of wilderness.”

Now the government is shifting its approach. In 2025, Oslo passed new tourism-related environmental regulations for Svalbard, including the designation of 43 specifically approved landing sites for cruises and tour operations, strict limits on snowmobile traffic on sea ice after March 1 and a requirement that boats remain at least 300 meters from polar bears.

Ships carrying more than 200 passengers can’t land in protected national park sites. Plus, there’s a ban on heavy fuel oil in Svalbard. The result: Only 15 large cruise ships will land in Longyearbyen this year. 

There’s also a prohibition on hotel construction, meaning the current bed count of 1,345 won’t rise. 

The federal government’s top-down approach to developing the rules has caused some controversy. 

“In general, we are very positive on protecting the environment and wildlife,” said Visit Svalbard sustainability manager Sara Nordell Borchgrevink. “We are a very responsible industry in that way. So, we feel like it’s unfair when there are a lot of new rules when we are already preserving the environment.”

She cited the bear-viewing rules as an example of overkill. 

Overall, though, Visit Svalbard is on board with an approach that emphasizes a higher-value tourism market over a larger tourism market. The organization’s mission statement now says that the territory strives to achieve “the right volumes of the right guests in the right place at the right time.” 

“Svalbard shall be the leading high-Arctic destination and an inspiration for sustainable destination development and management,” the statement reads. 

Visit Svalbard’s initiatives focus on driving longer stays and bridging the gap between the summer high season and the low season during the dark October-to-January months. Higher-end tourists — though not the luxury market — are another focus, Borchgrevink said. 

Longyearbyen’s tour operators, including Basecamp Explorer, will play a key role if these goals are to be achieved.

Fewer guests, higher prices

Following Basecamp Explorer’s acquisition by Norwegian tour operator 62 Nord in 2023, Basecamp has embraced Visit Svalbard’s strategy of quality over quantity. This year, the company will serve about half the customers it did in 2019, said Birgitte Tautra Vegsund, who heads Basecamp Explorer’s Svalbard operation.

Lower numbers are by design. The company doubled its prices this year (it pays commissions on a sliding scale starting at 10%) and changed its pricing structure to be more all-inclusive. Basecamp  includes fine dining in Longyearbyen, for example. 

It also elongated its itineraries, said Cecilie Feen, Basecamp’s sales and marketing manager. Prices for standard itineraries this year range from $5,000 to $10,000 per person. Next year, bottom-end prices will increase 40%, Feen said. 

She emphasized that Basecamp’s offerings aren’t for passive tourists. “We are definitely trying for the adventurous, the curious, the active guests,” she said. 

My trip mostly followed the operator’s five-day Remote Horizons summer itinerary, with an added night and an extra boat excursion. 

On our first full day, my travel companion and I took that added excursion, traveling about an hour through Isfjorden to Basecamp’s Nordenskiold Lodge. The house-sized outpost is powered by solar energy and sits isolated at the base of the Nordenskiold Glacier. Guests hike along the glacier and kayak on the bay. 

In Longyearbyen, we stayed at the Basecamp Hotel, a wooden lodge designed to evoke the feeling of an old trapper’s cabin. Vegsund said the interior is meant to be rugged but welcoming — the start and end point of an expedition. I found it comfortable and full of character.

A Longyearbyen highlight was a conditioning outing for sled dogs. We joined Niklas Wikstrand, who heads Basecamp Explorer’s 78-dog kennel. Absent the winter snow, the dogs pulled us on a wheeled cart. We manned the back of the sled, playing the role of musher, and we also helped Wikstrand harness and unharness the team of 12 Alaska huskies. 

The experience was more hands-on than my winter dog-sledding experience in Alaska a few years ago, when I was merely a passenger on the sled. In winter, Basecamp Explorer runs multiday dog-sledding trips with overnights in tents. 

Later that day, we headed 56 miles by boat to Isfjord Radio Adventure Hotel, a former communications center built in 1933 and now repurposed by Basecamp as a boutique lodge. 

The lodge is located on a cape, where a strand of tundra separates the Barents Sea from the mountains. An array of nearby solar panels has enabled Basecamp to reduce diesel usage there by approximately 70%, Feen said. 

Accommodations are cozy but not luxurious. The main lodge’s historical designation prevents Basecamp from adding private bathrooms, so its eight guestrooms share two shower rooms and two restrooms. Parlors on both floors are inviting, with picture windows offering endless views; grazing reindeer are part of the landscape.  

Head chef William Dundar serves prix fixe, themed dinners, with station manager Maiken Lokke carefully pairing wines. During my first night at Isfjord Radio, a seven-course meal featured local game, including two reindeer dishes and seal yakitori. 

Basecamp Explorer’s emphasis on adventure was reflected in two Isfjord excursions. We shared our experience with a group of eight Italian travelers and their guide. 

The first was a trip on an inflatable outboard boat across Isfjorden to Harrietbreen Glacier. Our guide, Runar Hellerud, said it was one of the roughest trips he has led. For two and a half hours, waves crashed into the boat, soaking those of us in the front, even through heavy, water-resistant outerwear.

But the payoff was unforgettable. 

Laura Andreacci, one of the Italian travelers, said “Lunch in front of the glacier will remain a wonderful, and freezing-cold, memory.” 

The next day, Hellerud led us on a 10-mile roundtrip hike across the tundra to a walrus colony. We passed reindeer and fossilized whale bones along the way. At times, we braved a sideways, freezing rain.  

At the colony, a group of about 15 walruses were lying together, resting. Many more were just offshore, surfacing regularly to look us over.

Adapting to warmer temps

Global warming has forced Basecamp Explorer and other Svalbard tour operators to adapt their offerings. Warmer winters have meant less and shorter-lasting sea ice, curtailing snowmobile tourism. 

A 2021 study published in the peer-reviewed Cryosphere scientific journal found that the mid-winter sea ice in waters around Svalbard halved since the period of 1973 and 2000. Less sea ice has opened increased routes for cruises and boat excursions. 

Meanwhile, earlier springs and later-arriving winters have led tour operators to adjust their schedules and activities, according to a 2023 study done by Dannevig. 

Basecamp Explorer used to offer an excursion in which guests traveled by snowmobile to a ship in the sea ice, Feen said. With less sea ice, it no longer can do that. 

She said that wetter weather and increased avalanche risk impacts itinerary planning: The company must be more “flexible ... creative”. This year, for example, late-forming sea ice prevented snowmobile crossings to Nordenskiold Lodge. Customers were given the choice to postpone or go to Isfjord Radio instead. 

Tourism will continue to put pressure on Svalbard’s Arctic environment, but Vegsund said visitation also raises awareness and can drive positive change.

“If you are standing in front of a glacier and you see with your own eyes the changes that have happened in a really, really short timeframe, it’s hard not to feel anything about that,” she said. “Being able to showcase it and to educate guests on what’s really happening is important.”

Dannevig said he believed Svalbard can maintain a balance between tourism and environmental protection if the industry succeeds with its focus on longer trips and higher prices. 

“I think it can maintain at the current level,” he said. “But there are limited opportunities for growth.”