Interview with a Reindeer Herder

A Sámi story in the north of Norway (Part 1)

Tim Ward, Mature Flâneur
Mature Flâneur
Published in
7 min readAug 2, 2022

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The first time I joked about reindeer with a Sámi (pronounced Sa-ami), it was an utter disaster. I told her that on our drive through Norway’s Arctic, the first time Teresa and I saw a reindeer on the road we stopped and took a lot of photos. After awhile, we saw so many of them, we stopped even slowing down, and just casually pointed them out to each other (“Oh look, yet another reindeer”).

Some of our early reindeer sightings, Photo credit: Tim Ward

“I realized that to you,” I concluded, “Seeing a reindeer on the road is kind of like seeing a cow on the road is for us in North America.” I gave a self-depricating laugh at our tourist foolishness.

“Reindeer are not cows,” she said abruptly. “We don’t milk reindeer. They are only for meat.”

During the awkward pause that followed, I realized that to the Sámi — the indigenous people of Scandinavia who have been hunters and herders of reindeer for thousands of years — reindeer were probably not a joking matter. Luckily, though, I learned this lesson a few days before meeting an actual Sámi reindeer herder.

Photo credit: Tim Ward

I met Nils John at the Sápmi Cultural Park in Karasjok, one of the main centers of the Sami in northern Norway, and the town where the Sámi built their national parliament. Nils John works at the park in the summer months while his reindeer are up in the nearby mountains, fattening up on grass for the long winter ahead. (“Don't eat reindeer that’s been slaughtered in the summer,” he told me. It will make you go to the toilet”). Nils John told me he took the park job because his income from the herd alone was no longer enough to support his family.

The park features reconstructions of traditional Sámi summer tents, winter turf dwellings, a wooden cabin, and mid-20th-century Sámi house that would be hard to distinguish from a Norwegian home. I joined a small group on Nils John’s tour, and winced a bit when the very first question one of the tourists asked was one that even I knew you should never ask a Sámi: “How many reindeer do you own?”

Winter camp; Summer camp. Photo credit: Tim Ward

“I won’t answer that, because we believe it is bad luck to say it,” he replied graciously. “But I can tell you my family is one of 21 families that own a herd of 6,300 reindeer.”

“Do you still hunt and live in traditional ways?”

“No. Everything is modern, except the reindeer. But I don’t use satellite phone or GPS. I know my land like the inside of my pocket. Even in winter when it is dark, I can shine the light from my snowmoble and see a mountain or the trees of the forest, and I know where I am.”

He showed us a display of traditional winter clothing, featuring reindeer pants, and boots of reindeer hide stuffed with dried grass for insulation. “The modern things — Gortex — they say it will keep you warm in minus 50 degrees. But it won’t. If we want to wear modern clothes in winter, we wear our own clothes underneath to stay warm.”

Some Sami winter clothing: better than Gortex. Photo credit: Tim Ward

We ended the tour at an enclosure that held three of Nils John’s own reindeer. He fed one, and showed us how the edge of its ear had been clipped in the shape of a “W.” He explained this was the identification mark for his animals. Each of the 21 families in his siida (a group that cooperatlvely manages a herd) had their own marking, as did all other reindeer herders. In his region, he could recognize 131 different ear marks. Using binoculars, any Sámi herder can tell from hundreds of meters away who owns a particular reindeer, which is extremely important when they round up the animals for sorting and slaughter at the end of the fall.

“Big Society government wants us to use an electronic barcode ear tag, like farmers use for sheep,” he told us. “But to read a barcode, we have to catch the reindeer. That’s a lot of effort just to find out if an animal is yours. But they don’t listen to us, when we tell them it will not work…”

His tone stayed flat and matter of fact, but his frustration with “Big Society” government was easy to detect. Between tours, I had a chance to talk alone with John Nils, and he told me candidly about what he called the “dark side” of reindeer herding.

He told me the “Big Society” limits the size of herds so that they cannot increase. Each year the herders have to slaughter not just a certain number of animals, but also a certain number of kilograms of reindeer. As a result, the herders end up keeping fewer adult males, which grow the largest. But, the males also are the best foragers in winter months, and they help the females survive. Bigger and stronger, males more easily dig through the snow to uncover nutritious lichen. Female reindeer often then chase the males away, and eat the lichen with their young, while the males go off and dig some more. How can the females do this? Because males lose their antlers in the fall, but the females keep theirs till spring — so they can basically bully the males into retreating.

(Nils John didn’t say it, but I later read that modern herds have only about 4% adult males. Down the line this will lead to a problematic lack of genetic diversity).

This a photo I took on a roadside plaque near Hammerfest of a reindeer migration.

“The Big Society says the herds can’t grow because there’s not enough food for them all,” Nils John continued…(note: this assessment has been challenged by other researchers critical of the government’s culling programs). “But at the same time, the government keeps taking more land from the reindeer. In our area, we have 2000 square kilometres. But 800 is taken by the military, so the airforce can practice bombing. Now they want more land for wind mills. And to build more summer cabins.”

I remember reading there was a real estate boom in summer cabins in Norway. I never thought Norwegians’ love for the wilderness was actually reducing the real wilderness. And wind farms. Of course, it was easy to see how they could disturb reindeer in the mountians during the crucial summer feeding months. Reindeer tend to avoid areas where modern infrastructure is being developed. (The graph, at bottom, shows how serious an issue this is in Norway).

“What about the Sámi Parliament?” I asked. “Don’t your representatives raise these problems with the Norwegian government?”

“We talk, but they don’t listen,” he said in the same flat tone.

“All three of my children want to become reindeer herders. But the government says only one person in each family can inherit a permit to herd. The other two will have to go to school, get a job in a town…”

It seemed to me as if the Norwegian government was slowly squeezing the Sámi herders, while the needs of the “Big Society” just grow and grow. I told Nils John that I write a small blog on Medium.com, and asked if he would be okay with me sharing what he told me, with his name and photo. He said sure. He is under no illusion that it will do any good.

It’s true that after centuries of persecuting and oppressing the Sámi, Norway has gone further than other Scandinavian nations in providing space for the Sámi to recover their identity and express themselves. But. But. Norway presents itself to the world as a socially progressive and environmentally conscious nation. Yet, apparently they are not listening to what the Sámi tell them about their herds and the land that is their home. Currently, the Sámi Parliament can only make suggestions to Norway’s government — what the Sámi are seeking is veto power over legislation affecting the Sámi people that they disagree with.

I later read a research article on Sámi reindeer herding that put it like this: To the Norwegian government, reindeer herding is about meat production. But animal husbandry is only a part of what reindeer mean to the Sami.

To tag a reindeer like you would tag a sheep, to regulate them by the kilo — this is being blind not only to the culture and spiritual values of the Sami people, but also to the ecological values the reindeer and their herders bring to this fragile Arctic ecosystem.

I hope somewhere in the Big Society, someone is listening.

Okay, this beautiful white male was worth stopping for on the road. What we later learned is that the Sámi see white reindeer as special, because they tend not to follow the herd — they find their own path. Photo credit: Teresa
This was our most joyful encounter with reindeer: One afternoon at a little fishing village on the Varanger Penisula in the far north east, we saw six bucks racing around the beach, prancing through the water, and then tearing off again into the hills. They were having fun! Photo credit: Tim Ward

P.S.: Here’s the Science Norway article I referenced above that critiques the government culling policy. It’s well worth a read: https://partner.sciencenorway.no/government-indigenous-people-nmbu/the-norwegian-government-ordered-massive-slaughterings-of-reindeer-indigenous-sami-reindeer-herders-disagreed-but-were-not-heard/1644157

This is another great source: https://reindeerherding.org/sami-norway

If you want a deep dive on reindeer and Sámi herders in Norway, I found this paper an excellent resource. It verifies everything Nils John told me: https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fsufs.2020.585685/full

Loss of habitat: distribution of areas of Norway >5 km from any infrastructure (green shading) 1900–2019. The yellow line marks the southern boundary of the Saami reindeer husbandry area (see Figure 3). Sources: Nellemann et al. (2003), Norwegian Mapping Authority. Image credit: “The Shrinking Resource Base of Pastoralism: Saami Reindeer Husbandry in a Climate of Change,” Frontiers in Sustainable Food Systems:

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Tim Ward, Mature Flâneur
Mature Flâneur

Author, communications expert and publisher of Changemakers Books, Tim is now a full time Mature Flaneur, wandering Europe with Teresa, his beloved wife.