How Much of Iceland Is Habitable? Only About 25%

Only about 20% of Iceland’s total land area is considered habitable, with the vast majority of the country covered by glaciers, lava fields, volcanic deserts, and barren highland terrain. The population clings almost entirely to a narrow coastal ring, leaving the massive interior essentially empty. Of the roughly 103,000 square kilometers that make up Iceland, just 1.2% qualifies as arable farmland.

What Covers the Other 80%

Iceland’s interior is one of the most inhospitable landscapes in Europe. Glaciers alone cover 11% of the country’s surface. The rest of the uninhabitable zone is a mix of active volcanic zones, vast lava fields, and sandy deserts that look more like Mars than Northern Europe. These aren’t small pockets of rough terrain scattered between towns. They form a continuous, nearly impassable expanse across the center of the island.

The volcanic deserts are particularly striking. Unlike the Sahara, these are cold, wind-blasted plains of black sand and gravel where almost nothing grows. Combined with unpredictable glacial rivers that can swell without warning, the interior has historically been dangerous even to cross, let alone settle.

The Uninhabited Central Highlands

The single largest block of empty land is the Central Highlands, a vast plateau that sits above roughly 300 meters in elevation. Nearly all land above that line is considered wilderness with zero permanent residents. The highlands were historically so remote and difficult to access that Icelanders avoided them for centuries, and that pattern has never changed.

The terrain is harsh and unstable, cut through by powerful glacial rivers that make road-building impractical for most of the year. Rather than trying to develop this land, Iceland has moved in the opposite direction. The government is currently preparing to designate much of the Central Highlands as a new national park, which would become Europe’s largest. Wilderness protection is a primary motivation, and Iceland’s first national planning strategy (covering 2015 to 2026) specifically emphasized keeping these areas undeveloped.

Where Icelanders Actually Live

The habitable strip is essentially a ring around the coastline, and even within that ring, the population is heavily concentrated in one corner. As of January 2025, about 244,500 people live in the Greater Reykjavík area, a continuous stretch of settlement running from Hafnarfjörður to Mosfellsbær. That single metro area holds nearly 63% of Iceland’s entire population.

Zoom out a bit and the concentration is even more dramatic: roughly 90% of Icelanders live in urban areas, almost all of them coastal. The remaining 10% are spread across small towns and farms along the ring road that circles the island. Entire regions of northern, eastern, and western Iceland have population densities close to zero once you move a few kilometers inland from the coast.

Why So Little Farmland

Even within the habitable coastal areas, productive agricultural land is scarce. World Bank data puts Iceland’s arable land at just 1.2% of total land area as of 2023. That’s one of the lowest figures for any country in the world. The growing season is short, the soil is often thin and volcanic, and much of the lowland terrain that isn’t rock or sand is boggy wetland.

Icelandic agriculture has adapted by leaning heavily on sheep grazing (which can use rougher pastureland) and greenhouse farming powered by geothermal energy. But traditional crop farming remains minimal. The country imports the vast majority of its food, and there’s little prospect of expanding arable land significantly given the geology and climate.

How This Compares Globally

To put Iceland’s numbers in perspective, about 67% of the United Kingdom is considered agricultural land, and even Norway, another Nordic country with challenging terrain, has far more of its population spread across its interior. Iceland’s combination of active volcanism, glacial coverage, and subarctic desert is unique in Europe and creates a situation where a country roughly the size of Kentucky supports permanent settlement on only a thin coastal fringe. The interior remains one of the largest uninhabited areas in Europe, and current policy is designed to keep it that way.