Just when it had begun to feel as though commercial whaling in the North Atlantic was finally edging towards history, both Iceland and Norway are once again preparing for hunts. In Iceland, Hvalur hf. has confirmed plans to resume fin whaling this summer, despite two consecutive seasons without a hunt and a widespread sense that the industry was winding down under the weight of economics, public opposition and collapsing demand. And if we are being honest, reality. Who keeps an industry afloat for no other reason than stubborn ideology?
Any sense that Iceland was quietly allowing whaling to fade has been complicated by a new quota announcement from the Marine and Freshwater Research Institute, which has advised a 2026 one-year catch of 150 fin whales and 168 minke whales. There is, for now, no obvious sign of vessels preparing for a minke hunt, but the advice underlines a more troubling reality: the legal and administrative machinery of whaling is still very much intact. That leaves the door open for the industry to push on with hunts, even though the wider direction of travel - economically, politically and ethically - has appeared to be away from whaling, not back towards it.
That is what makes this moment feel so jarring. Iceland had appeared, however cautiously, to be accepting the inevitable. Whale meat markets have weakened, stockpiles from previous hunts have remained unsold and well past any ideological sell-by date, and the country’s new government has (or at least, had) indicated it intends to bring forward legislation this autumn to end whaling. Yet even with that political direction of travel, the machinery of whaling has not been fully dismantled, and the industry is now attempting to use that gap to restart killing before the door closes.
Opposition within Iceland has been immediate. The group Friends of the Whales has called on the government to halt the hunt, arguing that continued authorisation would breach Iceland’s legal obligations, damage nature and prolong an activity that causes unacceptable suffering. Their intervention serves to show that this is not simply an international concern imposed from outside; resistance is also coming from within Iceland itself.
Meanwhile in Norway, the 2026 commercial whaling season is already under way. The government has set a quota of 1,641 minke whales, an increase on last year, even though actual catches remain far below the headline ceiling. In 2025, just 10 vessels took part and 429 whales were killed. Norway continues to defend the hunt as a legitimate use of marine resources, arguing that it is acting under a principle of “sustainable use of natural resources”.
But that argument is wearing thinner by the year. Saying a country has an obligation to use a natural resource simply because it exists is a poor defence of a cruel and outdated industry.
The fact that something exists in any degree of abundance does not create an obligation to exploit it. By that logic, countries should build industries around whatever happens to grow or live nearby, whether people actually want it or not. The existence of a resource does not create a moral obligation to exploit it, especially when the “resource” in question is a sentient, wide-ranging marine mammal with a vital ecological role in ocean ecosystems. You might argue the same about our squirrels or starlings. Although no-one would.
What Iceland and Norway are showing us is that whaling does not continue because it is necessary, popular or economically rational. It continues because governments have chosen, again and again, not to end it. For countries that like to present themselves as modern, science-led and environmentally responsible, that choice looks more out of step than ever.
Whales belong alive in the ocean, not on a balance sheet, not mouldering unsold in a cold store, and certainly not at the sharp end of a harpoon. This is an industry long past its sell-by date in every sense.