By Iver B. Neumann, Director of the Fridtjof Nansen Institute

With the death of Thomas Hylland Eriksen, Norway has lost its foremost public intellectual. He was best known for his engagement with and analysis of the emerging multicultural Norway. This is no coincidence, for his central interest lay in the relationship between social and biological diversity. Yet Thomas’s lyre had many strings—he was a guitarist and saxophonist (and a dabbling clarinetist), a literary critic, a biographer. Again, no coincidence, for his object of study was nothing less than the world. His academic foundation was anthropology, a field he helped develop from the 1980s onwards into what may now be the leading discipline of contemporary Norwegian academia.

Role: Public Intellectual

Thomas wrote nearly every day, incessantly. His zest for life took many forms, but its dominant expression was an insatiable desire to understand what was happening and why. Thinking alone was not enough; understanding came only when he had committed his thoughts to paper and shared them with the world. His final article appeared just days before his death on Wednesday, 27 November. Characteristically, his work appeared in a wide array of publications, though primarily in Morgenbladet.

It all began during his gymnasium years, when the young Tønsberg anarchist Geir—his given name at the time—sent a stream of articles to Gateavisa, then Norway’s freest publication, a sharp contrast to the Labour Party-dominated public discourse of the late 1970s. Young Geir was active in the Young Liberals, but he never wrote on behalf of anyone but himself. This independence continued when he moved to Oslo to study philosophy, sociology, and social anthropology, becoming active in Grønt Gras, the era’s most prominent student environmental organisation. The point was always to find his own voice and use it to engage in dialogue, never to speak on behalf of others. In Oslo, he further honed this talent, effectively moving into the offices of Gateavisa at Hjelms gate 3, where he even managed, ingeniously, to serve his civilian service.

After his studies, life unfolded much the same way—he remained constantly active, wearing a variety of hats in numerous contexts. There was his position at the University of Oslo, his lectures for voluntary organisations, Rotary clubs, businesses, schools, art projects. Everyone asked Thomas, and Thomas said yes to everyone. But his favourite arena was undoubtedly immigrant communities. Here, he could fully exercise his talent for dialogue, opening channels of communication where none had previously existed. He translated the cultural understandings of immigrants for what he called norskingene (Norwegians) and explained Norway to immigrants. Naturally, he also wrote extensively on these topics, in both articles and books. Typical titles included The Path to a More Exotic Norway: A Book about Norwegians and Other Strange Peoples (1991, explaining the world to Norwegians) and A Long, Cold Country Almost Without People (1998, explaining Norwegians to the world).

Core Interest: Social and Biological Diversity

Thomas’s interest in what immigration was doing to Norway was also a reflection of his fundamental fascination with diversity. While figures like Karl Marx cherished equality, Thomas loved difference. He rejected the assimilation of the different into the same and dismissed the notion that groups thrive best in isolation. Instead, he was captivated by the plural, the creole, the hybrid—the newness that arises from cultural encounters.

He was an enthusiast of globalization, European integration, and the ways species find and adapt to niches. This fascination and enthusiasm run like a red thread through both his work and his life. His grasp of the social was unmatched, and his understanding of the biological grew through youthful activism, years of collaboration with biology professor Dag Hessen, and, once again, writing himself into the subject, as evidenced by his biography of Charles Darwin (1999). His final book, The Irreplaceable, was, characteristically, an effort to weave these threads into a comprehensive societal diagnosis of where we stand—both culturally and biologically.

Field: The World

On his beloved Mac, Thomas for years kept a globe as his desktop background, with the caption: “the object of study.” He sought to grasp it all—by travelling, engaging in dialogue, and, naturally, writing about it. He had friends across multiple continents: the Caribbean, the United States, Africa, even Sweden. This all-encompassing perspective also applied to his interests and practices.
He was not a practical man, yet during his childhood on Nøtterøy, he maintained a compost heap (a neighbour once called in alarm, reporting smoke after Thomas had checked on it). Gardening was a passion. He cooked, crafting delicious rum-based cocktails. He adored children—his own, of course, but also others’, engaging with them effortlessly on their level (an un-Norwegian trait, perhaps). And he played guitar, later transitioning to saxophone. His taste ranged widely, favouring prog rock but with a keen appreciation for the classical and jazz canons. One of his final books was an unlikely treatise on the jazz group Moose Loose and their 1973 album, The Moose is Loose. When his eclectic musical preferences were criticised, he countered by citing a “classic favourite” in each genre: Led Zeppelin for rock, Ludwig van Beethoven for classical, and John Coltrane for jazz.

His omnivorous reading habits extended to fiction, devouring multiple novels a month alongside his extensive non-fiction diet. He himself authored two novels. It helped that he needed only a few hours of sleep each night. When he was asked to write an obituary for Edward Said, a fellow thinker he greatly admired, he highlighted Said’s amorous relationship with Western culture—something they shared. Few things could irritate Thomas more than dismissive woke rhetoric about the shortcomings of Western civilization. For him, it was full of dazzling achievements, and he devoted his life to extending its traditions while celebrating what other cultures had to offer.

Discipline: Social Anthropology

Thomas’s broad engagement was underpinned by a solid foundation. His book Tyranny of the Moment (2001), perhaps his most widely read general publication, achieved global recognition partly because its accessible arguments were grounded in years of meticulous scholarly work. At the Department of Social Anthropology at the University of Oslo, his workplace for three decades, Thomas was an institution unto himself.
He authored foundational texts on anthropology’s history, including biographies of W.H.R. Rivers and Fredrik Barth. His textbook Small Places, Large Issues, translated into thirty languages, is a standard reference. His early fieldwork in Trinidad and Mauritius explored the impacts of ethnic diversity in urban contexts. When courses in contemporary anthropological theory were needed, Thomas was the natural lecturer.
He garnered numerous accolades, including the Research Council of Norway’s Communication Prize in 2002, the University of Oslo’s Research Prize in 2017, and the Swedish Vega Prize, personally presented by the King of Sweden in 2022. Intellectuals often pretend visibility does not matter, but it does, and I am profoundly grateful that my friend was recognised by so many during his lifetime.

Credo: We Are Here Together

Thomas Hylland Eriksen was, above all, a generous man. He shared his insights freely, and he was heard. Though not religious, he held a near-religious faith in humanity’s ability to learn and live together—a belief strikingly at odds with his favourite Norwegian philosopher, Peter Wessel Zapffe. In a global world, with its challenges and dangers, there are worse legacies to leave.
Rest in peace.
 

This text was first published in Morgenbladet and is reproduced here with their permission.