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The ocean’s enforcement gap

Sperm Whales Up Close Underwater in Indian Ocean, Western Australia. Photo credit: © Alex Westover

Sperm Whales Up Close Underwater in Indian Ocean, Western Australia. Photo credit: © Alex Westover

  • Governments have designated vast marine protected areas and pledged to conserve 30% of the ocean by 2030, enforcement often lags behind these commitments.
  • Research shows that the ecological benefits of marine protected areas depend less on their size than on whether rules are visible, monitored, and enforced.
  • New tools—such as satellite imagery, vessel-tracking systems, and data analytics—are making it easier and cheaper to detect illegal fishing and focus enforcement efforts.
  • As monitoring improves, the future of ocean conservation may depend less on creating new protected areas than on ensuring existing rules are consistently applied.

Founders briefs box

On paper, the sea is increasingly protected. Governments have designated vast marine protected areas (MPAs) and pledged to conserve 30% of the ocean by 2030. Maps shaded in reassuring blues now circulate widely. Yet the reality offshore often looks much the same as before. Industrial vessels still trawl through restricted waters, longliners set gear near vulnerable habitats, and sanctions for violations are sporadic. The problem is not a shortage of rules. It is the unevenness of enforcement.

Creating an MPA is politically attractive. It signals ambition at relatively modest cost, especially when the protected waters lie far offshore. Policing those areas is harder. Patrol vessels are expensive to operate, legal cases can drag on, and fisheries agencies are rarely flush with funds. In many countries, officials face a dilemma: announce new protections and earn international praise, or spend scarce resources enforcing existing ones and risk confrontation with powerful domestic interests.

Frozen tuna are transferred from the Hung Hwa 202, a Taiwanese longliner, to the Hsiang Hao, a Panama-flagged reefer operating out of Tokyo, Japan, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The Greenpeace ship Arctic Sunrise and crew are investigating distant water fishing fleet practices in the Mid-Atlantic during September and October 2019. Photo credit: © Tommy Trenchard
Frozen tuna are transferred from the Hung Hwa 202, a Taiwanese longliner, to the Hsiang Hao, a Panama-flagged reefer operating out of Tokyo, Japan, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The Greenpeace ship Arctic Sunrise and crew are investigating distant water fishing fleet practices in the Mid-Atlantic during September and October 2019. Photo credit: © Tommy Trenchard

Evidence presented in a widely-cited 2014 Nature paper suggests that compliance depends less on the size of protected areas than on whether rules are visible and credible. Studies comparing MPAs across regions consistently find that ecological benefits correlate with enforcement capacity. A reserve that exists only in legislation may deliver little more than reputational gain. One that is monitored, even lightly, can produce measurable recovery of fish biomass within a few years.

Technology lowers the cost of monitoring

Technology is beginning to change the economics of oversight. Automatic Identification System (AIS) transponders, originally designed to prevent ship collisions, now provide a continuous record of vessel movements. Satellite imagery can detect ships that switch AIS off. Machine-learning tools analyze patterns of speed and course to identify likely fishing activity. These capabilities do not eliminate the need for patrols or courts, but they narrow the search. Authorities no longer need to scan vast ocean areas blindly. Monitoring can focus on particular vessels, dates, and coordinates.

Regional view: Fishing vessels, Sicily and Tunisia
Regional map of fishing vessel activity off the coasts of Sicily and Tunisia during the study period, 2017-2021. Image © 2023 Global Fishing Watch.

Indonesia illustrates how the approach can work. In the mid-2010s, its fisheries ministry combined satellite tracking with a highly publicized crackdown on illegal foreign fleets. Authorities used vessel monitoring systems to identify incursions into restricted zones, then pursued a handful of high-profile prosecutions. The policy included the dramatic scuttling of seized boats, which attracted global attention. Critics questioned the theatrics, but illegal fishing reportedly declined in several regions, and domestic fish stocks showed signs of recovery. What mattered most was the perception that violations would be detected and punished, even without constant patrols.

Palau, a small Pacific nation with a vast exclusive economic zone, has taken a different approach. Lacking the budget for continuous at-sea enforcement, it partnered with nongovernmental organizations and technology providers to monitor vessel activity remotely. Satellite analytics flag suspicious patterns, which are then cross-checked against permits. Physical inspections occur mainly when vessels enter port. For a country with limited naval capacity, this layered system has proved more feasible than attempting to police the open ocean directly.

Ports as enforcement chokepoints

Ports themselves are increasingly where enforcement happens. Under the Port State Measures Agreement, countries can deny entry or services to vessels suspected of illegal fishing. This shifts the burden from chasing ships at sea to controlling land-based infrastructure. In places such as Vigo in Spain or Busan in South Korea, inspections tied to catch documentation have improved traceability. Even modest scrutiny can deter operators who rely on predictable port access to unload cargo and refuel.

Public transparency is emerging as a powerful tool. Platforms that publish vessel tracks allow journalists, researchers, and civil-society groups to scrutinize activity for themselves. When suspected violations become visible beyond government agencies, the political calculus changes. Officials who might hesitate to confront domestic fleets can point to external evidence. Enforcement increasingly becomes a response to documented facts.

The benefits extend beyond conservation. Illegal, unreported, and unregulated fishing distorts markets and deprives coastal states of revenue. Where monitoring has improved, governments often recover fines, licensing fees, and tax income that offset the cost of oversight. Compliance can also enhance access to export markets, which increasingly demand proof of legal origin.

Crew onboard an Iranian flagged fishing vessel in the Northern Indian Ocean show a shark caught in their nets as bycatch while fishing for tuna. These vessels often fish for tuna with 7 mile long gill nets, fishing with a gill net over 1.5 miles is illegal. Photo credit: © Abbie Trayler-Smith / Greenpeace
Crew onboard an Iranian flagged fishing vessel in the Northern Indian Ocean show a shark caught in their nets as bycatch while fishing for tuna. These vessels often fish for tuna with 7 mile long gill nets, fishing with a gill net over 1.5 miles is illegal. Photo credit: © Abbie Trayler-Smith / Greenpeace

None of this eliminates the legal challenges. Detecting a suspicious track is one step; assembling admissible evidence is another. Courts require clear attribution of actions to specific vessels and operators, and some flags of convenience complicate jurisdiction. There is also the risk of overreliance on technology. AIS signals can be spoofed, satellites may miss small wooden boats, and data analysis requires trained personnel. Enforcement remains a human enterprise, not merely a digital one.

Still, the balance is shifting. A decade ago, monitoring large MPAs required either expensive patrol fleets or benign neglect. Today, a combination of satellites, analytics, and cooperative frameworks can provide at least a baseline level of oversight at a fraction of the cost. Credible monitoring alone can shape behavior, even when interventions are infrequent. Fishers, like most people making a living, respond to perceived risk.

From designation to implementation

The coming years will test whether governments prioritize implementation over expansion. International negotiations continue to focus on new targets and designations, including protections for the high seas. These are important milestones. But the ecological fate of many marine ecosystems may hinge on more prosaic decisions: funding inspection teams, training prosecutors, maintaining data systems, and sustaining political will after headlines fade.

Ocean conservation has often been framed as a race to set aside more space. Increasingly it resembles a governance problem. Vast areas are already nominally protected; their future depends on whether rules are enforced consistently enough to shape behavior. Technology can make that task cheaper and, perhaps, politically safer. But it cannot substitute for commitment.

If the past decade was defined by drawing boundaries on maps, the next may be judged by what happens within them. The sea’s recovery may hinge on whether designations are taken seriously once they appear on the map.

Banner image: Sperm whales up close underwater in Indian Ocean, Western Australia. Photo credit: © Alex Westover / Greenpeace

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