Interpersonal Austerity as a Barrier to the Social Integration of Highly Skilled Immigrants in Norway

A linear conception of integration

The concept of integration is often taken for granted in policy debates, yet it remains contested and polysemic (e.g., Favell 2021; Spencer & Charsley 2021). Scholars delineate several dimensions of integration, such as socioeconomic—or structural—integration, which primarily focuses on the labor market, and socio‑cultural integration, which is often measured by means of examining, for example, host language acquisition, identification with the host country, and friendships between immigrants and the majority. Despite such multifaceted understandings, policy debates have largely centered on labor market participation. A major reason for this is that one of the main topics in political discourse is the importance of self‑sufficiency, largely due to the concern about the sustainability of the welfare state (e.g., Brochmann & Hagelund 2011). Another reason is a predominantly linear conception of integration, which rests on the assumption that, once immigrants participate in the labor market, they will gradually become integrated in other parts of the host society.

The integration paradox

The burgeoning research literature on the integration paradox suggests otherwise. Contrary to most other integration research, scholars here focus explicitly on highly educated immigrants. The paradox shows that, while these immigrants are well‑integrated, structurally speaking, they tend to feel more detached from their host society and less positively attuned with the majority population (e.g., De Vroome et al. 2014; Diehl & Trittler 2024; Verkuyten 2016). Not only does this go against the linear integration assumption; it is also surprising because natives tend to prefer highly skilled immigrants to other immigrant groups (Diehl & Trittler 2024: 1780). As such, one would expect the highly skilled to feel particularly welcome in their host society.

Researchers have explored various mechanisms that may explain the paradox (see Schaeffer & Kas 2024 for a review and meta‑analysis). Highly educated immigrants interact with and compare themselves more with the majority population and expect to be treated on par with them. When their expectations are not met, they may experience relative deprivation (Teije et al. 2013). Indeed, compared to other immigrants, the highly educated report more discrimination and feel that the majority show less acceptance for minorities, which can be attributed to more exposure to public discourse, increased interaction with the majority, and heightened awareness of discrimination (Schaeffer & Kas 2024). This, in turn, is associated with more negative attitudes toward the majority population (De Vroome et al. 2014). On the other hand, research demonstrates that increased interaction with members of the majority is associated with more positive attitudes toward them. In this sense, immigrant–majority interaction may also serve as a buffer against negative experiences such as discrimination (Teije et al. 2013).

These findings hint at the potential importance of the relationship with the majority population for understanding the integration paradox, but there is a need for more research that can explore the meaning of friendships—or lack thereof—more explicitly. In particular, there is little qualitative research that could provide a more in‑depth understanding of this mechanism. One exception is the study by Geurts et al. (2021), which indicates that unmet expectations and experiences of exclusion in social life can be one of several factors that underpin the paradox. Adding to that, other research shows that there is an association between the share of friends who are from the host country and identification with that country (e.g., Becker 2022; Schulz & Leszczensky 2016)¹—the latter being the kind of outcome that is measured in research on the integration paradox. The current article may shed additional light on the potential role of friendships in the paradox.

Integration—for whom?

Apart from studies on the integration paradox, there is limited research on highly skilled immigrants through the lens of integration. In line with the linear understanding of integration, one reason for this may be that these individuals are assumed to be already ‘integrated’ due to their employment and educational credentials (Kotavaara & Prokkola 2023). Another reason may be that highly skilled migrants, particularly those from the Global North, are not expected to integrate in the first place. This notion connects with a broader critique of integration as a concept and research practice (Favell 2019; Klarenbeek 2024; Schinkel 2017; Schinkel 2018; Spencer & Charsley 2021). The critique suggests that integration becomes the responsibility of specific immigrant groups, positioning them as problematic outsiders. Others, such as white immigrants from the United States and Canada, or labor migrants within the European Union, are left out of research on integration because they do not belong to ‘problematic groups’ in the eyes of the state and integration researchers (Anthias, 2014: 15; Schinkel 2018: 4). Arguably, the same situation applies to many highly skilled immigrants, particularly when ethnicity (whiteness) and class (higher education) align. Similarly, members of the majority population receive dispensation from integration. The discourse on integration frames it as a matter of individual responsibility rather than a challenge that encompasses society, including the majority population (Schinkel 2018). Thus, the significant difference is not, according to Schinkel, between people who are well‑integrated versus people who are not, but ‘between those for whom integration is not an issue at all and those for whom it is’ (Schinkel 2017: 3). According to critics of the integration paradigm, this view can contribute to cementing differences between groups, for example by connecting social problems to a lack of integration rather than seeing them as a matter of social inequality (Anthias 2014).

The concept of integration has been criticized for being not only descriptive but also normative, often implying a predetermined ideal outcome (Klarenbeek 2024). Apart from labor market participation, integration outcomes are measured by looking at factors such as immigrants’ share of friends among the majority population, their religiosity, how many children they have, their upward mobility, etc. These are not descriptive but also proscriptive variables, as their value tells us something about the success or failure of integration. We want to emphasize that when we, in this article, focus on friendships with native Norwegians, it is not due to an a priori assumption that such friendships are inherently desirable or more valuable than other kinds of friendships. Rather, our focus reflects the importance our interviewees themselves placed on these relationships.

What to do about ‘integration’?

In light of the critique of integration outlined above, would it not be best to abandon the concept of integration altogether? There are alternative approaches that can remedy the shortcomings of the concept. For example, scholars have developed terms such as anchoring and embedding to challenge ‘linear and simplistic notions of migrant integration’ (Grzymala‑Kazlowska & Ryan 2022: 1). Anchoring directs attention to the importance of sources of safety and stability in immigrants’ lives (Grzymala‑Kazlowska 2016). Embedding focuses particularly on the social, political, and institutional contexts that immigrants navigate in their efforts to form attachments, both in the host country and transnationally (Ryan 2018). Both concepts are less influenced by policy concerns. For example, anchoring is distinctly less normative than a measure such as ‘identification with the host country’ or even the concept of belonging, which, in the context of integration research, is often explicitly concerned about identifying whether immigrants develop an increasingly strong sense of belonging to the host country. Both concepts also point to the possibility of dis‑embedding or of anchors becoming less secure. This may, in turn, explain, for example, return or onward migration.

While we acknowledge the strength of other approaches and we find the critique of integration thought‑provoking, we will not abandon integration as a concept in this article—though we will briefly return to the usefulness of anchoring and embedding in the discussion. In line with scholars such as Spencer and Charsley (2021), we believe it may be fruitful to use the term ‘integration’ while addressing some of the criticism that has been raised against it. First, we apply the concept in the context of a group that is usually not included in integration research—the highly skilled—and, by using the integration concept, we can also engage with the integration paradox literature. Second, we believe it is useful to use ‘integration’ in line with the critique that has been raised against it. Schinkel writes that the individualization of integration makes it a ‘decidedly un‑social and non‑relational concept’ (Schinkel 2018: 3). Similarly, Heckman wrote two decades ago that integration research should not only be about immigrants but also about natives (Heckmann 2005: 13). His point of view resonates with the call in recent years for ‘de‑migrantization’ of integration research. One way of doing this is to re‑orient research ‘away from “migrant populations” towards “overall populations”’ (Dahinden 2016: 2208). So far, however, this discussion has been largely theoretical, with few scholars actively approaching empirical analyses in this way. In this article, we attempt to explicitly apply de‑migrantization to our empirical material by directing our attention toward the majority population and the cultural norms that shape social life in Norway. In the empirical analysis, we will, therefore, draw on anthropological research on Norwegian culture to shed light on our findings. By doing this, we hope to be better able to explain the barriers that our interviewees face.

Facing invisible fences

Many interviewees said that their friends belonged to what one of them described as the ‘expat bubble,’ a social circle that is quite separate from Norwegians. For those working in international companies, their friends were mostly other immigrants. While international friend groups could provide fun and comfort, several participants yearned for deeper, more lasting connections with Norwegians. However, across several interviews, participants described their struggles with making Norwegian friends using phrases like ‘it’s difficult to penetrate society’ or ‘I hit a lot of walls.’ These expressions mirror the concept of invisible fences, a term developed by Marianne Gullestad to describe how Norwegians regulate proximity and distance in social life (Gullestad 1986; Gullestad 2002). Much communication in Norway is implicit and indirect (Rygg 2012: 37). Indeed, it can be difficult to understand what is happening when you stumble across invisible fences.

Judy is particularly articulate about these challenges. She describes her relief when she had overcome all the practical hurdles in the beginning, such as getting a bank account, an approved driver’s license, and an ID number. But then a bigger hurdle appeared:

Judy thinks Norwegians are perfectly nice if you get the chance to talk to them, but they seem relieved when the conversation ends, ‘when they can get back to their day and stop talking to a stranger.’ She finds this silent resistance bewildering:

On the surface, Norwegians appear polite and welcoming, but when Judy attempts to deepen the connection, they withdraw. As a result, social life with Norwegians remains barren. She summarizes:

Her experiences resonate with the notion of invisible fences—they materialize through what Gullestad terms ‘distancing strategies,’ which involve the polite rejection of social contact (Gullestad 1986). Moreover, it can be difficult to overcome initial social barriers with Norwegians, as it is considered impolite in Norway to disturb others unnecessarily. This ‘distance rule of politeness’ centers on respecting people’s autonomy and personal space. Engaging with strangers only for social purposes is not that common in Norway, as ‘it is considered impolite to excessively impose on other people without having something proper (truthful, informative) to say’ (Rygg 2017: 10).

For some interviewees, the challenges they face in social life were part of their migration decision‑making. For example, Phillip had already applied for a work visa in another country. When asked about the major reasons for moving from Norway, he replies: ‘Probably the social aspect; it’s really taking a huge toll on me.’ Similarly, Angela explains that, if she were to leave Norway, it would be for social reasons:

Judy knows a lot of Americans who have been in Norway for years who still lack a Norwegian network. Seeing how they continue to struggle after many years, she feels discouraged about her own prospects: ‘In a few years’ time, if I feel like I really can’t […] get some semblance of involved personal life over here, at that point, I have to ask myself: Why am I staying?.’

‘My one norwegian friend’ and one‑night friendships

Invisible fences appear to be widespread across life domains. Some interviewees explained that spaces where they typically forge friendships do not function the same way with Norwegians. For example, Angela used to make friends through yoga in the United States, but in Norway, people in yoga classes are quiet and leave right away when the class has finished. Similarly, two other interviewees, Phillip and Thomas, said that their weekly sports activities did not lead to friendships with locals. Phillip remarks, ‘even if you cut off both my hands, you could still count how many friends I managed to make [through various sports activities].’

The workplace offers another example. Judy explains that some of her closest friends in the United States are colleagues: ‘We hang out outside of work, and we become besties’—but this does not happen in Norway. Conversations typically revolve around the weather, weekend plans, and family, but the relationship seldom deepens beyond this. Peter describes how he has invited colleagues to social events. While they graciously accept, they ultimately fail to show up. He has perhaps not learned yet, in line with subtle distancing strategies, to know when people politely accept invitations, with both parties knowing that they will not show up, or when to politely turn down social invitations because you know they are not sincere.

According to Judy, there is a running joke among fellow Americans in Norway about ‘my one Norwegian friend.’ Laura’s story constitutes an exception to the picture, as she has several Norwegian friends whom she got to know prior to moving to Norway. She relates an anecdote that confirms the idea about the ‘one Norwegian friend.’ During Norwegian language class, the teacher asked people to raise their hand if they had zero, one, or two Norwegian friends:

The teacher was baffled—nobody had ever had more than two Norwegian friends when she had asked this question previously. Laura’s story, while it reflects positive friendship experiences, is one of the exceptions in our material that confirms the rule.

According to the interviewees, there are exceptional circumstances that can lead to a breakthrough with Norwegians, but they tend to be fleeting. One might describe these moments as the friendship‑equivalent to a one‑night stand, which is often contingent on alcohol. In Norwegian culture, there is a significant emphasis on independence and self‑control. However, one of the few contexts in which it is deemed acceptable to lose control is when alcohol is involved (Gullestad 1990: 52). ‘The circle immediately becomes open when you are three drinks down,’ Sam explains. Judy recalls the exhilaration she felt at a work party, when, after a couple of drinks, she and her colleagues were able to engage in more meaningful conversations. The problem, she explains, is that when you meet your colleagues the day after, ‘you go right back to where you were.’ When Norwegians act as though nothing occurred after a night of drunken camaraderie, it may serve as a way for them to restore the self‑control that was momentarily abandoned. Thus, like with a one‑night stand, one night of intimacy does not always develop into a long‑term relationship.

Alone time, home‑centeredness, and family norms

The experiences we have described above demonstrate that interviewees feel the effects of social distancing and invisible fences in Norwegian social life. But why are people placed on the outside of these fences?

According to Gullestad, one reason is to preserve ‘peace and quiet’ (fred og ro), which are core values in Norwegian culture and frequently used to ‘justify and legitimate withdrawal from social relations’ (Gullestad 1990). To have peace in a Norwegian context, Gullestad writes, is to be free from disturbances from others: ‘Peace is something which can be destroyed by too much social interaction. Social interaction can lead to bother, anxiety, noise, disturbances, and conflicts, and [they] must, therefore, be limited’ (Gullestad 1990: 43). The notion of peace and quiet comes into expression when Norwegians say that they need their ‘own time’ or ‘alone time’ (egentid or alenetid). Many Norwegians place great importance on having personal space, believing that others share this need (Rygg 2012: 30). When someone expresses the desire for ‘alone time,’ it is accepted as a legitimate request for temporary social withdrawal. In contrast, other cultures may not prioritize peace and quiet to the same extent (Gullestad 1990: 57). Lorelou Desjardin, a French immigrant living in Norway, reflects on this cultural difference:

Similarly, Dana shares that, in Venezuela, it is not socially acceptable to decline an invitation to a party because you prefer staying at home. People there maintain closer connections with family and, as she puts it, ‘we have a thousand friends.’ In contrast, Norwegians she knows often decline social invitations, citing being ‘too busy.’ Dana doesn’t believe this is necessarily true. Instead, she suggests that Norwegians simply do not prioritize social life as much. According to Dana, when Norwegians say they are ‘busy,’ it often serves as code for withdrawing into their homes:

Dana observes that family life in Norway is largely confined to the home. During our interview, which took place in a café, she remarked: ‘Look around, there are no children.’ She contrasted this with other countries, where children often accompany their parents to cafes, restaurants, and dinner parties. Rather than integrating children into their social lives, Norwegian parents, Dana notes, tend to focus on family life at home. Indeed, Gullestad (1991) describes ‘home‑centeredness’ and ‘familism’ as key characteristics of Norwegian culture. The strong emphasis on gender equality and the nuclear family in Norway may contribute to this inward focus. While interviewees mention a good work–life balance as one of the perks of life in Norway, Dana argues that this balance doesn’t necessarily translate into more time for socializing—particularly for parents with young children. ‘Family time’ is a prominent ideal in Norway. For parents with young children, this means that both mothers and fathers should dedicate themselves fully to family life after work, spending time together with the children before bedtime (Pedersen 2014). As a result, the shorter working hours that come with a good work–life balance primarily create more time for family activities, rather than social engagements outside the home.

Equality as sameness

In Norway, there is a strong focus on social equality as a pillar in the welfare state. This emphasis on equality has significant implications for social life (Gullestad 1991). Gullestad argues that equality in Norway primarily signifies sameness, which is a prerequisite for intimate social relationships. If Norwegians perceive the difference between themselves and another person as too great, they tend to distance themselves politely (Gullestad 2002). The conflict avoidance that is characteristic of Norwegian culture (Schramm‑Nielsen 2002) is also tied to the notion of sameness, as it serves to prevent and conceal conflict, as well as to uphold the value of peace and quiet.

The emphasis on sameness in Norwegian culture is evident in the conformity seen in surface‑level matters, such as appearances. Several interviewees were struck by what they perceived as a lack of individuality among Norwegians. Judy, for instance, was surprised to find that Norwegians seem to drive only four basic types of cars in shades of white, gray, or black; to paint their houses in similar tones; and to share common tastes in home interiors, clothing, and footwear. She contrasts this conformity with the United States, where, as she puts it, ‘You want to be different and distinctive, you want uniqueness.’ However, the conformity described by the interviewees does not necessarily imply that individualism is not valued in Norway. Gullestad (1991) suggests that, in Scandinavian culture, there exists a unique form of egalitarian individualism, which is paradoxically compatible with conformity. Norwegian individualism is about independence, but it does not manifest in standing out as an individual in ways that would disrupt the ideal of sameness.

Although conformity may seem to concern trivial matters, it holds deeper significance. Some interviewees note that it creates a sense of limited acceptance for diverse ways of living. Moreover, conformity plays a crucial role in social life, as it both fosters and signals sameness—something that, in the Norwegian context, is key to being accepted. Phillip touches on some of these points:

When one does not conform, invisible fences may arise, leading to a subtle form of exclusion. Judy, too, suggests that conformity in Norway extends beyond surface‑level matters. The cumulative effect of societal conformity can function as a powerful mechanism of exclusion:

In the face of immigration, there is an intensified demand for ‘imagined sameness,’ according to Gullestad. While immigrants are expected to conform to this sameness, she suggests that, even if they do, it will not necessarily dismantle the invisible fences: ‘“Immigrants” are asked to “become Norwegian,” at the same time as it is tacitly assumed that this is something they can never really achieve’ (Gullestad 2002: 59).

Small, closed circles

Several interviewees note that Norwegians tend to stick to small, closed friend circles: ‘People are just happy with the friend groups they’ve had for a long time,’ Angela explains. Similarly, Xenia says, ‘you have to be born here, go to kindergarten, and attend school in Norway to make any close friends.’ As several interviewees point out, this tendency to remain within familiar groups means that new individuals are rarely included. Dana recounts with bewilderment that she heard Norwegians say that they have enough friends or don’t have time for more. In her home country, by contrast, there is a sense that more friends are always welcome.

According to several interviewees, one reason why it is difficult to break into Norwegian social circles is that Norwegians often keep friends separate. This practice limits their capacity to socialize with a broader group, as time must be allocated to each friend or group individually. Susanna shares that she was told it is considered rude in Norway to mix friends: ‘They would feel it both rude to me and rude to their friends if I were to join an event that they typically have just for themselves.’ Phillip contrasts this with the social norms in his home country: ‘In my country, we tend to mix people. Like, I’m meeting this guy—do you want to come as well? And then they meet, and they’re no longer strangers.’

Another explanation for the reluctance to mix friends may lie in the Norwegian emphasis on sameness and the aversion to conflict. When people from different walks of life come together, their differences are likely to become more apparent, potentially disrupting what in Norway and Denmark is referred to as kos or hygge. While these terms are difficult to translate, the linguistic anthropologist Levisen explains hygge as a ‘pleasant, attentive, and relaxed mode of “togetherness”’ (Levisen 2013, 80). Although Levisen discusses the term in the Danish context, it originates from Norwegian and carries similar cultural connotations in Norway. Hygge is closely tied to conflict‑avoidant and consensus‑seeking social interactions within small groups of friends who know each other well.

Hygge can also be linked to the norm discussed earlier regarding the reluctance to mix friend groups, a tendency that has also been observed in Denmark. Denmark is often described as a distinctly ‘groupy’ country, where social life revolves around belonging to tight‑knit groups, with a preference for keeping these groups separate, as each has its own social dynamics: ‘If mixed, the benefits of the groupy social dynamics can easily be lost, and hygge would be harder to achieve’ (Levisen 2013: 102). Inadvertently, this emphasis on ‘pleasant togetherness’ can lead to the exclusion of foreigners (Levisen 2013: 112).

Another factor contributing to social exclusivity in Norway may be the cultural tendency toward home‑centeredness (Gullestad 1991), as discussed earlier. In many other countries, social life is primarily conducted in public spaces—such as cafés, pubs, or parks—which are open and more inclusive. Norway, by contrast, lacks a strong historical tradition of pub or restaurant culture (Gullestad 2013). Instead, the home has long served as a central venue for social interaction. However, several interviewees note that Norwegians often have a high threshold for inviting others into their homes. As one participant observed: ‘There is a bit of a fear about bringing people into your personal space, which is home.’ For example, it is not as common for Norwegians to invite a new colleague from work into their home, as friendship is generally expected to be well established before such an invitation is extended (Longva 2003). Gullestad similarly notes: ‘For Norwegians, the home is a concrete material manifestation of special relationships’ (Gullestad 1992: 54). It is possible that some of the social norms governing private, home‑based interactions extend into public settings, creating subtle boundaries that restrict access to social circles. Just as it would be seen as unusual—even inappropriate—to bring an unfamiliar guest into someone’s home, it may also be frowned upon to introduce an unknown person to a group in public, such as at a café or a pub. If this interpretation holds, it suggests that the logic of small, exclusive social units—rooted in domestic life—shape social interactions outside of the home as well.

The welfare state

Finally, the social exclusivity of groups in Norway may be connected to broader features of Norwegian society. The strong welfare state reduces individuals’ dependence on family or social networks for economic or social security (Esping‑Andersen 2001). While this strengthens individual autonomy and freedom, it may also entail that relationships become less close and intimate. As such, there may be a trade‑off between autonomy and social isolation. Moreover, this environment, which decreases dependency on partners, family, and friends for social and economic security, may be particularly conducive to what Giddens (2013) describes as ‘pure relationships’—bonds maintained not out of necessity or tradition but rather sustained by mutual emotional engagement, personal disclosure, and intrinsic reward. In Norway, where individual autonomy is emphasized and material needs are largely met by the state, the ideal of pure relationships may apply not only to romantic partnerships, which Giddens writes about, but also to friendships. Such friendships, which prioritize emotional authenticity and mutual understanding, are more likely to thrive in one‑on‑one contexts or within small groups. This aligns with Gullestad’s (1992: 53) account of the ideals underpinning social closeness in Norway: care, authenticity, informality, honesty, equality, and the sense that ‘all parties can be whole persons with one another.’ In this context, superficial interactions or casual acquaintances—more common in larger group settings—may be seen as less meaningful. Indeed, the cultural tendency to view small‑talk as insincere or unnecessary (Longva 2003) likely contributes to the reluctance to facilitate socialization within larger groups. This may help explain the norm against ‘mixing friends’ in Norwegian social life.