Kitty Dutton, Renewables Consultant at Xodus Group; Member of the 2050 Climate Group Edinburgh

Along with millions of others, I spent the Easter weekend watching Netflix’s hit documentary Seaspiracy. Over the course of 90 minutes, I learned that the fishing industry is the main contributor of plastic pollution in the oceans and witnessed horrific scenes of dolphins being slaughtered and other marine creatures needlessly dying as bycatch. I was educated on the nature of huge commercial shipping vessels; how they decimate fish stocks that local people depend on and propagate slavery in the 21st century. I was disturbed to discover that buying MSC (Marine Stewardship Council) certified fish did not guarantee that it has been caught sustainably, and that almost all Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) still allow damaging fishing practices – like trawling and dredging – to occur. I gained insight into an industry about which I knew little and came away questioning any commitment to seafood and feeling decidedly squeamish.

Which, of course, was the purpose of the documentary. I was supposed to come away with those sentiments. In many ways, as a well-educated liberal concerned about climate change and environmental degradation, I was the target demographic. And, as someone who works in offshore wind, I am quite used to the fishing industry being seen as, shall we say, difficult. They are a powerful and effective lobby and have been the bane of existence to many developers all over the world that wish to build windfarms in their traditional fishing grounds. The documentary only played into my prejudices, further supported by the knowledge that offshore wind – unlike fishing apparently – can actually be beneficial to life in our oceans. 

For one, the construction of windfarms can result in the creation of artificial reefs that become fertile feeding grounds. The irregular rough surfaces encourage the settlement of creatures such as barnacles and molluscs which then become an important source of food for fish and other organisms. Furthermore, aquatic life around windfarms benefits from a greater amount of protection than they might enjoy in MPAs as industrial fishing cannot conduct business as usual. Dragging huge nets across the seabed risking damage to important infrastructure like cables is strictly prohibited. Indeed, many operators don’t want fishing vessels anywhere near the windfarms to minimise risk of damage, and many fishing vessels are similarly reluctant to be liable for such damage or to enter areas that cannot be easily accessed in the event of an emergency. Offshore windfarms can therefore provide large areas where marine life can flourish and thrive away from usual threats. Plus, there’s the indirect benefit of reducing greenhouse gas emissions from other fuel sources, thereby helping reduce climate change that poses a major threat to all life in the oceans. Win, win, win.  

So I got to feel smug, safe in the knowledge that with a few dietary changes I could wash my hands of any responsibility to the horrors I had seen and knowing that my work might go someway to addressing these. Except there was a lot about the documentary that didn’t sit right with me. The tone of the questioning showed that the filmmakers were never really interested in entering into a dialogue with the industry and the conclusion that everybody should switch to vegan alternatives and boycott the sector felt like a woefully inadequate gesture that would do more to assuage individual guilt than actually tackle the issues presented. Not to mention, it’s a fairly blunt instrument to use against an industry that is responsible for the employment of over 200 million people (most in small scale fisheries) and for providing the main source of protein to over 3 billion people. As with most things, the solution is never that simple.  

Vilifying an industry upon which billions of people depend struck me as somewhat familiar. I am no stranger to this attitude when it is directed at fossil fuels. And indeed, there do seem to be several parallels between the fishing industry and the Oil & Gas (O&G) sector. Both require hard work for long hours. Both require operating in hazardous environments and spending extensive periods away at sea. And both, for better or worse, produce currently vital resources the immediate cessation of which would be hugely damaging. That being said, cessation is necessary. Current exploitation of both the atmosphere and the oceans cannot continue as they are without causing runaway climate change and ecological annihilation respectively. There needs to be a transition to an economy rooted in sustainable practice, and what Seaspiracy failed to identify is that this transition needs to be just.  

For O&G workers, this means skills-development and support to transfer their existing skillset to alternative sectors. For fishermen, it means working collaboratively to find solutions to problems and facilitate best practice. Yes, eating less (or even no) seafood might send a market signal that fewer fish should be caught and therefore contribute to a reduction in overfishing. But there are a whole host of other options that should be part of the conversation. For instance, support for technological developments like designing nets to capture only desired species of a certain age, thereby helping to reduce bycatch and ensure younger fish remain and can propagate. Or developing nets made of biodegradable polymers to help reduce ghost-fishing (the phenomenon where rogue nets lost at sea continue to trap and kill vast quantities of marine life). Regarding the huge volumes of plastic waste from the fishing industry, better management systems need to be created that include strategies to reduce loss and enhance recovery of nets, and to identify (and penalise) those that don’t comply. Similarly, there needs to be vastly improved monitoring of catches to ensure every effort is being made to reduce bycatch and that quotas are not being exceeded – no mean feat given historical difficulties policing the high seas.  

All of these interventions will require partnering with the fishing industry to develop systems that work, to learn from and educate on best practice, and to provide financial support for expensive new technologies. It will require global cooperation, as with climate change mitigation, because fish (like emissions) do not respect national borders. And it will require compromise, as different nations and industries compete for use of the sea’s resources. Take offshore wind as an example, rather than coming in and taking away access to traditional fishing grounds, developers could work with fishing communities from the start to find solutions that minimise any negative impacts. Indeed, this is already being done in some areas. The Netherlands set up a ‘Community of Practice North Sea’ that brought people together to share experiences and learn from each other whilst seeking a balance between offshore wind development, nature conservation, and seafood production. While the results remain to be seen, it makes sense to me that constructively engaging with fishermen as partners, rather than antagonistically viewing them as enemies, is more likely to lead to positive outcomes for all.  

None of this is easy – it’s certainly a lot harder than replacing fish fingers with Quorn nuggets – but at least it has the potential to preserve both life and livelihoods. 

KeyFacts Energy Industry Directory: Xodus Group