Every spring, Norwegian streets burst into life with the unmistakable sight—and sound—of russ students celebrating the end of 13 years of schooling. Dressed in red overalls and blasting music from lavishly decorated russebuss party buses, these school-leavers mark the lead-up to Norway’s national day on 17 May with weeks of revelry. But as the tradition has grown in scale, cost, and controversy, the government is stepping in—saying the celebration has gone too far.
“It’s a party bus! We go out every night for a month, we get drunk, we’re partying with our friends and it’s just fun!” says 19-year-old Edvard Aanestad, one of this year’s graduating students in Oslo. His friend Henrik Wathne, 18, echoes the sentiment: “We play really, really loud music and party all night.”
While the energy is undeniable, the concerns are mounting. The russebuss culture has become increasingly commercialised and elite, with some groups spending up to 3 million kroner (£220,000) on top-tier sound systems, custom graphics, and luxury interiors. Many students take on debt or work part-time jobs just to afford their spot. And while some enjoy the ride, others are left out, unable to match the steep costs.
“The celebration has become highly exclusionary,” says Norway’s Education Minister, Kari Nessa Nordtun. “It’s interfering with exams, spreading to younger teens, and hurting students’ mental health and performance.”
Parents and educators are sounding the alarm too. Solveig Haukenes Aase, a parent and activist, says the culture is no longer confined to high school seniors. “In recent years, it has started to have an impact on middle school kids,” she warns.
Safety is also a pressing issue. Norway’s Transport Minister, Jon-Ivar Nygard, has announced plans to ban party buses with sideways-facing seats and standing passengers while in motion. “We can no longer send our young people off in unsafe buses,” he stated.
Next year, the government plans to shift all official russefeiring to after final exams, aiming to reduce disruption and promote inclusion. But not everyone is on board.
“The government wants to take away the sideways seating on the buses and just have group seating. I think it’s the wrong way to go,” says Edvard. He argues that banning buses or limiting their design will make the tradition even more exclusive, not less.
With only half the students at his school able to join a bus group this year, Edvard says authorities are missing the point. “We worked for years to make this happen. If they cut back the buses, fewer people will be able to join at all.”
What was once a unifying rite of passage has become a divisive flashpoint between tradition and reform. As Norway grapples with how to rein in the russe party culture, one thing is clear: the days of unregulated midnight partying may soon be over.
