A Pause Beneath The Waves
It began with a hum: a council chamber in Kingston, Jamaica, May 2023. Delegates sat poised, aware that their deliberations could redefine how humanity would extract metals from the deep sea.
When the Council of the United Nations‑backed International Seabed Authority (ISA) adjourned without agreeing on exploitation rules, they quietly delayed any permission for deep–sea mining until at least 2024. That pause, though subtle, sent ripples across governments, activists, and industries alike.
This rejection of a “green light” came not out of caution alone, but also from a deep sense of responsibility: the seabed, under international law, is humanity’s shared heritage. Officials concluded—there’s still too little science, too few safeguards, and far too much uncertainty to begin mining fragile ocean ecosystems.
Navigating Uncertainty: A Mosaic Of Perspectives
Cautious Science And Global Moratorium Calls
In the wake of the ISA’s unresolved vote in Kingston, as many as 32 nations rallied for a precautionary pause. From Tuvalu to Austria, from Honduras to Malta, governments echoed the concerns of scientists and NGOs like the Deep Sea Conservation Coalition, who emphasised that we lack vital research into deep ocean habitats.
Julian Jackson, seabed mining project director at The Pew Charitable Trusts, summed it up succinctly: “Many states are calling for a moratorium or precautionary pause … until we have the science needed to inform a robust evidence‑based regulatory framework that protects ocean ecosystems from harm.”
Industry Arguments And The Energy Transition Case
For proponents like Canada’s The Metals Company (TMC), the pause came with caveats. They argue seabed nodules—rich in nickel, cobalt, and copper—are essential to green energy technologies, such as electric vehicle batteries. According to TMC spokespeople, seabed mining could even be less harmful than land‑based mining if done responsibly.
Yet as Jessica Battle of WWF clarified: “There was no green light for deep seabed mining to go ahead,” she said, underscoring that permission remains off the table—even if loopholes exist.
Point Four: The Heart Of The Delay
Indeed, the critical fourth point is this: ISA did not grant immediate mining authority, but also left open a legal loophole that could potentially allow commercial mining to begin next year. This means that, while no new licence was awarded, the door was not fully locked.
The “2‑year rule” triggered by Nauru’s 2021 request could compel ISA to accept exploitation applications by July 2023 or risk automatic approval in the absence of formal rules; with regulations still pending, commercial activity remains legally possible despite the delay.
A Broader Canvas: What Else Is Changing?
Norway’s Domestic Pause
By late 2024, Norway—initially the first nation to approve deep-sea mining in its Arctic waters—was forced to pause those plans by political opposition at home. An environmental coalition led by the Socialist Left Party refused to support the government budget unless mining was halted; companies had applied for licences across a 280,000 km² area, but now the move is suspended pending environmental assessments.
US Tensions And Unilateral Moves
Meanwhile, the United States—though not a party to UNCLOS (the Law of the Sea)—has been moving unilaterally. In April 2025, former U.S. President Donald Trump signed an executive order to fast‑track seabed mining permits, potentially sidestepping ISA authority altogether. This has sparked alarm among legal experts and environmentalists, who warn of conflict with international norms and possible ecological harm.
Weaving Real Voices Into The Narrative
Take President Surangel S. Whipps Jr. of Palau. In July 2024, addressing the ISA Assembly, he spoke of a growing threat to the ocean that his people call sacred. In his speech—titled “Upholding the Common Heritage of Humankind”—he implored delegates to see seabed mining as a form of modern colonialism, invoking Palau’s traditional practice of bul: stewardship and regeneration. He emphasized:
“Our greatest ally in our fight against climate change” is the ocean, and it is our duty to protect it for generations to come.
Paul Salopek, head of Greenpeace Nordic, celebrated Norway’s pause as “historic,” crediting grassroots campaigns, scientific insight, Indigenous voices, and fishermen’s communities for helping reshape policy.
Narrative Arc: Hope, Conflict, Balance
I imagine a young marine scientist named Aisha, standing on Palau’s reef, measuring coral growth. She recalls whispering every evening to her grandmother about hidden worlds in the abyss—mysteries that mining could silence. Now, thanks to delays and global advocacy, Aisha’s grandmother smiles and says, “Maybe the ocean will speak another day.”
Yet beyond Palau, in Canadian boardrooms, executives map timelines: TMC planning applications for late 2024, production by 2025—just in case regulations arrive in time. And across the Pacific, small island nations feel the tension between economic opportunity and environmental precaution.
This is not a polarized battlefield. Rather, it is a living narrative of humans negotiating with nature—holding firm to values, science, and a shared future.
The Road Ahead: Cautious Optimism
The delay by ISA is not a defeat—it is a moment of reflection. It buys time to map ocean life, understand climate impacts, and institute equitable benefit-sharing. Countries like the UK have launched new scientific networks; environmental groups and 32 member states continue to call for moratoriums until evidence is robust.
By early 2025, Portugal became the first country to impose a formal moratorium on deep‑sea mining within its exclusive economic zone and in international waters—running until 2050—demonstrating how national policies can align with global precaution.
Conclusion: Stewardship Over Haste
Deep‑sea mining offers tantalizing promise for green energy and critical mineral supply—but only if undertaken with humility, strong science, and global cooperation. For now, the ISA’s decision to delay until at least 2024, combined with national moratoria and public resistance, reflects a hopeful shift: a world choosing stewardship over haste.
And perhaps that’s the ocean’s deepest lesson: to proceed, but respectfully. To seek what we need—but not without knowing what could be lost.
