It is tempting to explain the difference between Norway and Sweden by means of single factors – electricity, interest rates, war, exchange rates. But that provides too flat a picture. What is unfolding is not a coincidence. It is a result of a particular economic structure – and of political choices that over time have shifted the balance within this structure.
Let us take it step by step.
Firstly: the use of oil revenues (oljepengebruken).
Norway occupies a special position in that the state has access to enormous financial resources through the fund. What is often forgotten is that this money is not “free”. When it is brought into the Norwegian economy through the state budget, it increases aggregate demand. That is not in itself problematic – so long as there is corresponding spare capacity in the economy.
But there is only limited capacity.
When the state each year injects tens, sometimes hundreds, of billions of kroner into an economy already under pressure in terms of labour, housing, and services, something entirely classical occurs. Ludwig von Mises described this long ago: an increase in the money supply without a corresponding increase in production leads to rising prices. Not necessarily immediately and evenly, but unevenly and insidiously – where the pressure is greatest.
That is precisely what we are observing.
Secondly: the weak krone.
An economy that increasingly lives off commodity revenues and returns on capital, but imports large parts of its consumption, develops a structural currency problem. The krone becomes vulnerable. Not because Norway is “poor”, but because future value creation outside oil and gas appears uncertain.
When the krone weakens, we import inflation. This is not a slogan, but a direct mechanism: all goods priced in euros or dollars become more expensive in Norwegian kroner. And since we import so much, this has a broad impact.
Thirdly: energy prices.
The so-called marginal pricing (marginalprisfastsettelsen) in the electricity market means that Norwegian power prices are largely determined by the most expensive source of power in the European market. This implies that an economy which historically has had a competitive advantage in the form of cheap hydropower now, in practice, pays a price that reflects scarcity and geopolitics far beyond its own borders.
Electricity is not merely a household cost. It is an input factor across the entire economy. When it becomes more expensive, this propagates through the value chains.
Fourthly: taxes on input factors.
Diesel, transport, construction materials – all of these form part of production and distribution. When the state increases taxes on such input factors, the cost level across the entire economy rises. Businesses do not absorb this over time. They pass it on into prices.
This is classic cost-driven inflation.
Fifthly: the size of the state.
When an ever larger share of the economy is channelled through public budgets, a shift occurs in how resources are allocated. The state competes for labour, capital, and expertise. At the same time, it maintains demand through transfers and subsidies.
This creates an artificially high level of demand relative to the underlying productive capacity.
Taken together, these are not isolated phenomena. It is an interplay.
Oil revenues increase demand.
A weak krone makes imports more expensive.
Energy prices raise the cost level.
Taxes reinforce this further.
A large state sustains demand.
The result is what we observe: a persistent inflationary pressure that cannot be “adjusted away” by interest rates without significant side effects.
For when the central bank responds with higher interest rates, it is particularly households that are affected – in a country with high debt. Purchasing power is further weakened. Investment is slowed. Yet the underlying cost level in the economy remains high.
This is why it is experienced as a loop.
Interest rates are raised to dampen inflation. But inflation is not driven solely by demand – it is driven by structural conditions. Consequently, interest rates must be kept higher and for longer than otherwise. The effect is an economy that neither gets to breathe nor to grow.
And then there stands Sweden – with lower inflation.
Why?
Not because the Swedes are immune to economic laws, but because their economy is composed differently. Less dependent on oil. More industry-based. Less exposed to a massive, continuous fiscal stimulus. And with a different level of taxation and costs on key input factors.
This does not mean that Sweden does not have its own problems. But it does mean that the inflation dynamics are different.
The uncomfortable question is therefore not why Sweden is doing better.
The question is why Norway – with its resources – is doing worse.
And the answer lies not in a single decision, but in the sum of many: a policy that over time has prioritised consumption over production, distribution over value creation, and stability in the existing order rather than the development of new sustainable industries.
It is not dramatic from day to day. But it is dramatic over time.
For in the end, even a rich state encounters the same limits as all other economies:
You cannot compensate your way out of structural weaknesses with more money.
You can only postpone the consequences.
And the longer the postponement lasts, the harder the correction becomes.
