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Gísli Pálsson on the Arctic: The People Behind the Exploration

Oct 16
5 min read

The history of Arctic exploration is often told through the lives of the explorers who ventured into unfamiliar territory. But what happens when we look beyond their achievements and consider the people whose knowledge, hospitality and experience made those journeys possible?


At DeSalvio Travel and Sarasota Cruise Agency, we believe that understanding a destination requires more than an appreciation of its landscapes. It also means engaging with its history, listening to local perspectives and questioning the assumptions we bring with us. This is particularly important in the Arctic, where Indigenous communities have too often been described through the eyes of outsiders.


In our conversation with Gísli Pálsson, an anthropologist whose research explores Arctic history and Inuit societies, we examine the complicated legacy of exploration and the importance of understanding cultures on their own terms. His research into explorer Vilhjalmur Stefansson reveals contradictions between an interest in Inuit life and the ways Inuit people were treated. He also discusses the consequences of imposing European administrative systems on Inuit communities, including the historical practice of, horrifically, assigning people identification numbers instead of recognising their naming traditions, which was a law from 1941 until early 1970's.


Black-and-white portrait of a young person outdoors holding a chalkboard with 6010, looking calm.
An Inuit identification disc, illustrating the administrative numbering system imposed on Inuit people in Canada. 1

The conversation extends beyond history to the responsibilities of contemporary visitors. Inuit communities are living, evolving societies, not remnants of a distant past waiting to be photographed. Understanding that distinction changes how we approach cultural encounters, wildlife and the choices we make as travellers.


We invite you to read this thoughtful conversation with Gísli Pálsson and consider what it means to visit the Arctic with curiosity, cultural awareness and respect for the people who call it home.


Looking beyond the explorer


My interest in Arctic anthropology developed through my research into Vilhjalmur Stefansson, the Canadian-Icelandic explorer. I spent years studying his life, transcribing his field notes and publishing his observations. It eventually became a major biographical project and helped shape my own direction as an anthropologist.

Stefansson was an extraordinary person. Alongside Knud Rasmussen, he was among the explorers who paid particular attention to the people they encountered. He learned languages, recorded observations and tried to understand Inuit life from closer quarters than many of his contemporaries.


Black-and-white portrait of an elderly man in a suit and tie, looking right against a cloudy sky.
The Icelandic explorer Vilhjalmur Stefansson

But there was a contradiction in his personal history. Stefansson had children with an Inuit woman whom he described as a seamstress, and he had one child in Canada whom he did not meaningfully acknowledge. That is a troubling part of his story, especially when set against his interest in Inuit culture.


The history of Arctic exploration is full of these contradictions. Exploration was often celebrated as an achievement in itself, while the people who made it possible were overlooked. There was a tendency to take what was needed from local communities without asking what those communities gained in return.


Understanding a different world


Anthropologists are trained to look at the world from the perspective of the people who live in it. That sounds straightforward, but it requires considerable effort. When you enter another society, you may sense what is happening without actually understanding it. Anthropologists call this culture shock, and it works both ways: the people you visit are also encountering someone unfamiliar.


Research has changed considerably since the early days of Arctic exploration. In my own work, I had to navigate extensive paperwork and applications, and establishing trust and access was essential. Interpreters were important, too. Research should benefit the communities involved, not simply the researchers who arrive to collect information.


I was particularly interested in Inuit naming practices. Traditional Inuit names reflect ancestry, personal identity and changed throughout their lives as a reflection of who they were. This is quite different from a system in which a name is simply a fixed administrative identifier.


European administrators struggled to accommodate these conventions. Instead of adapting their systems, they imposed their own. Inuit people were assigned numbers, sometimes displayed on boards worn on their chests, something they call Ujamiit in Inuit language. This, very unfortunate practice, continued into the 1970s.


It is an embarrassing example of Western ethnocentrism. The assumption was that European administrative systems were universal, while another culture's way of understanding identity could be ignored. Something as fundamental as a person's name was reduced to a number.


Inuit societies are not frozen in time


One misconception I would like people to reconsider is the idea that Arctic communities are isolated pockets of traditional culture. They are part of modern societies, connected to towns, countries and the wider world. Their lives have changed, just as lives have changed elsewhere.


Visitors sometimes arrive expecting to photograph a traditional way of life, as though the people they encounter belong to another period in history. But these are contemporary communities, not exhibits. The idea that you can spend two weeks somewhere and capture the essence of Inuit life is unrealistic.

It is important to understand where you are going before you arrive. Local beliefs and customs may differ considerably from your own, and you should not assume that your expectations apply to everyone.


Snowy Arctic village with colorful houses at golden hour beside a calm fjord and rugged mountains.
A community in the Arctic


Photography is a good example. In some cultures, taking a photograph can carry implications about personal identity or the soul. A visitor may regard a camera as completely ordinary, while the person being photographed sees the act differently. You have to be aware of that possibility and respect people's wishes.


The history of Greenland also deserves attention. Greenlanders experienced harmful policies, including cultural assimilation, under Danish rule. Acknowledging historical wrongdoing is important, and there has been progress, although contemporary political developments mean that questions about Greenland's position and future remain sensitive.


The Misconception Explorers and visitors have towards Inuit communities


One misconception I think we need to reconsider is the tendency to imagine that the people who have historically inhabited the Arctic lacked proper languages and cultures, living what outsiders might describe as a primitive existence. In fact, they had everything: elaborate languages, rich mythologies and sophisticated technologies. We need to move beyond these historical assumptions and recognise the depth and complexity of the societies that have called the Arctic home for generations.


Tourism, puffins and the consequences of our choices according to Gísli Pálsson:


I do not believe tourism necessarily has to harm the places people visit. Sightseeing and photography tours are not inherently problematic. With a good guide, respect for local communities and care for the environment, visitors can experience a place without treating it as something to consume.


The question is how we behave when we arrive, including what we choose to eat.

In Iceland, puffin has long been part of the food culture and smoked puffin was my favourite dish growing up. The birds were once available in grocery stores, and eating them was much more commonplace. Attitudes have changed as concerns about overexploitation have grown. Even local people may now hesitate to eat puffin and I shy away from it as well except during festivities when they are presented as a delicacy that I can't go around.


Close-up of a puffin perched on a gray rock, with a bright red-orange beak and feet against a soft blurred background.
The beautiful and iconic Puffin bird of Iceland

Tourists should understand that ordering a traditional dish can have consequences beyond their own experience. Something that seems like an interesting cultural encounter may also contribute to pressure on a wildlife population. Tradition and environmental responsibility do not always sit comfortably together.


The same broader concern applies to extinction. It is not only about the disappearance of one species. Mass extinction points towards a much wider collapse of environmental relationships, with several species declining or disappearing together.


Understanding the Arctic means paying attention to these relationships: between people and their histories, between different cultural systems, and between human choices and the natural world. We should approach unfamiliar places with curiosity, but also with the willingness to listen and reconsider our assumptions.


  1. Photo credit: Arthur H. Tweedle / Library and Archives Canada / e002344280

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