Ola Borten Moe gets his own cheerful ditty – while Austrheim defies the report and pushes ahead with nuclear power

There’s something uniquely Norwegian about writing a cheerful ditty about a member of parliament. Not a spiteful song, more an offbeat bit of humour to be sung at village gatherings or over a pint at the local. Now Ola Borten Moe has got his own – just as the nuclear power debate heats up for real on the west coast.

Because while rumours of A cheerful ditty about Ola Borten Moe spread through political corridors, Austrheim municipality is out there on the ocean's edge, refusing to follow the script. A new report – which few have read with any joy – concludes the obvious: it’ll be difficult, expensive and time‑consuming. So what did Austrheim do? They stuck their noses in the air and answered: we’re carrying on anyway.

When Borten Moe turned his back on the atom

Let’s take a quick step back. Ola Borten Moe, the former oil and energy minister from the Centre Party, went through a period where he had to cling to the table to stop himself laughing at nuclear power enthusiasts. In several interviews his tone was ice‑cold: too expensive, too slow, too complicated. He preferred to back renewables and Norwegian hydropower – a safe, old‑fashioned line that went down well with many.

But then something happened. The energy crisis, electricity prices that got people riled up at the parliamentary podium, and the realisation that the sun doesn’t always shine and the wind doesn’t always blow. Suddenly nuclear power wasn’t so stupid after all. Still, many are left with the feeling that the man who could have got the ball rolling ten years ago instead chose to look the other way.

“This is a real dose of cold water” – but Austrheim isn’t listening

Commentators in one of the country’s biggest newspapers have described the situation as exactly that: a real dose of cold water. The report that landed last week didn’t exactly trash the plans, but it gave them a serious cold shower. Cost estimates running wild, waste‑management challenges, and a timeline stretching far beyond the next election cycle.

Yet when a local broadcaster visited Austrheim, the answers were surprisingly clear. The mayor shrugged and pointed to local enthusiasm. “We will continue with our nuclear power plans”, was the message. Local businesses are cheering. This is no longer about what a report says – it’s about building something new, regardless of what they think in Oslo.

• Local companies see dozens of jobs in research and services.
• Property tax could stabilise over time – a relief for homeowners.
• And then there’s that cheerful ditty about Ola Borten Moe, which, in local lore, is said to be about this very contradiction: The man who first said no, then maybe yes – while the village had already started digging.

“Should have started the job long ago”

In the business sections of the media, the tone is different. Most writers there argue that nuclear power should have got going long ago. The point is that every day we wait, the next decade gets even more expensive. And when even Germany regrets phasing out nuclear, and France doubles down, Norwegian hesitation looks petty.

Ola Borten Moe has since tried to moderate his stance. He says he was never “principally opposed”, just practically doubtful. But the cheerful ditty now being sung in small groups on the west coast pokes fun at exactly this: “Ola said no, Ola said yes, Ola said maybe – while Austrheim built anyway.”

And that’s probably where we stand today. Reports come and go. Politicians change their minds and call it “updated assessments”. Out in the municipalities, where people actually need electricity and jobs, they’re taking matters into their own hands. Austrheim has already started talking to technology suppliers. The plans are no longer on the drawing board – they’re becoming real.

Maybe the cheerful ditty about Ola Borten Moe will end up as just a footnote in history. But right now, with nuclear power back on the agenda, it’s the small, local heroes who are leading the way. And that’s probably worth a song – or at least a good, long feature story.