Op-ed: ‘Blue Foods’ May Not Save the World
When it comes to food, the world faces a tangle of seemingly impossible choices: Increase agricultural land-use to address food insecurity and you drive deforestation and risk biodiversity collapse. Industrialize meat production to bring prices down and you set the stage for new pandemics and imperil the welfare of billions of farmed animals. Feeding the world’s growing population without worsening parallel catastrophes has become the defining challenge of the 21st century. One could be forgiven for attempting to conjure a portal to a future that would avoid tradeoffs entirely. And some, it seems, have attempted to cast just such a spell: “Blue foods” is the way to save the world. Blue foods—food like fish, shellfish, and seaweeds obtained from bodies of water—and farmed blue foods in particular have been promoted by researchers, industry, NGOs, and the World Economic Forum alike as the way to feed the world; as a solution to hidden hunger and malnutrition; as the path to achieving global food system transformation; and as the fix for multiple global challenges. A common refrain in these circles: “The future of food is not just green—it’s blue.” But as researchers studying aquatic organisms, their ecosystems, and their welfare, we are compelled to say: not so fast. And not like this. Blue foods do have benefits, and they certainly have a role to play. For example, as a source of protein, farmed shellfish have a smaller carbon footprint compared to beef. And seaweed farming may increase carbon sequestration, ameliorate ocean acidification, and lead to socioeconomic gains. But the details matter, and so does the scale. Mariculture dewilding can impact the environment, wildlife, captive animals, and humans’ view of each. (Credit: Emma Bautista) For most of human history, the world’s oceans have been largely free of intensive farming. There have been myriad overfishing crises, but cultivation of the oceans has been limited. That may soon change. Marine and coastal aquaculture production has soared since 1990, reaching a record 78.4 million tons in 2022. This expansion includes the growth of resource-intensive industries like salmon farming. It also includes attempts to rapidly domesticate hundreds of species. Such attempts have accelerated in recent decades, subjecting countless wild animals to captive conditions that are incompatible with their welfare. And yet, production is projected to increase for all major farmed species in the next decade. In short, the rise of “mariculture”—farming in the ocean—is poised to dramatically alter our marine footprint. But, as we write in a new paper published last week in the journal Science Advances, the full suite of risks from mariculture are incompletely mapped. To date, some potential impacts of ocean farming have been well studied. For example, mariculture’s potential to pass bioaccumulated pollutants to consumers and facilitate antibiotic resistance have been well documented and received media attention. But, as we found, the potential for grave and irreversible harms to animals and marine ecosystems have either been studied in isolation or remain unacknowledged. The risks are broad and varied, but add up to an alarming concept we call “dewilding,” the process of privileging human interests, perspectives, and sovereignty at the expense of other interests and considerations. Maricultural dewilding impacts our oceans and marine life in four major ways. First, marine farming poses environmental risks, threatening to permanently change seascapes. In addition to fish waste and refuse pollution, for example, mariculture generates antibiotic and plastic pollution. Expanding maricultural infrastructure would also contribute to “ocean sprawl,” which degrades ecological systems and wildlife habitats. For most of human history, the world’s oceans have been largely free of intensive farming. That may soon change. Second, mariculture endangers wildlife species and the welfare of individual wild animals. By disrupting marine habitats and increasing demand for wild fish used as feed, mariculture can contribute to wildlife population decline. Critically, it can also compromise the wellbeing of individual wild animals: for example, mariculture equipment and infrastructure can entangle and even kill seabirds, seals, dolphins, and whales. Third, and very poorly understood, are mariculture’s captivity effects. These can include high rates of deformities, parasite infection, and disease. Moreover, slaughter methods can be inhumane, failing to stun fish prior to slaughter and using painful and stressful methods like asphyxiation. Captivity also drives physical and behavioral changes in farmed species. These changes become more pronounced and potentially harmful when animals are selectively bred or otherwise altered for desired production traits—for instance, fish who are modified to be sterile can suffer from higher rates of deformities. And lastly, the rush to farm our oceans is changing the very nature of how humans view the marine world. Scanning the ocean for new areas to cultivate or new species to domesticate represents a shift in how we see the ocean, reducing a once wild and powerful place to yet another resource to be tapped, another set of production units to be quantified. And just as land-based farming has contributed to human-wildlife conflict—ranchers killing wolves for threatening cattle, for example—ocean farms have already generated similar conflicts, including between humans and seals attracted to the easy meal of a farmed fish. Given all of this, one of our most surprising findings was the inevitability with which the scientific literature has discussed this massive expansion into the oceans. The assumption of expansion is just that: an assumption. Evidence-based reasoning requires looking at all available options, including the possibility of not expanding or of expanding in some areas but not others. Our findings don’t discount the promise of blue foods as part of the solution to global food and environmental challenges, but they do suggest myriad reasons to slow down, get specific, and proceed with caution. Backed by nearly 800 scientific papers documenting the harms we call dewilding, we urge an evidence-based approach to mariculture, particularly as it relates to impacts on animals, environments, and our relationships with both. We need a different path forward—one that assesses the effects of farming in the ocean and questions the logic of expansion until we know more about what is at stake. Blue foods may yet prove to be part of the solution—but not like this. The post Op-ed: ‘Blue Foods’ May Not Save the World appeared first on Civil Eats.
And some, it seems, have attempted to cast just such a spell: “Blue foods” is the way to save the world. Blue foods—food like fish, shellfish, and seaweeds obtained from bodies of water—and farmed blue foods in particular have been promoted by researchers, industry, NGOs, and the World Economic Forum alike as the way to […] The post Op-ed: ‘Blue Foods’ May Not Save the World appeared first on Civil Eats.
When it comes to food, the world faces a tangle of seemingly impossible choices: Increase agricultural land-use to address food insecurity and you drive deforestation and risk biodiversity collapse. Industrialize meat production to bring prices down and you set the stage for new pandemics and imperil the welfare of billions of farmed animals. Feeding the world’s growing population without worsening parallel catastrophes has become the defining challenge of the 21st century. One could be forgiven for attempting to conjure a portal to a future that would avoid tradeoffs entirely.
And some, it seems, have attempted to cast just such a spell: “Blue foods” is the way to save the world.
Blue foods—food like fish, shellfish, and seaweeds obtained from bodies of water—and farmed blue foods in particular have been promoted by researchers, industry, NGOs, and the World Economic Forum alike as the way to feed the world; as a solution to hidden hunger and malnutrition; as the path to achieving global food system transformation; and as the fix for multiple global challenges. A common refrain in these circles: “The future of food is not just green—it’s blue.”
But as researchers studying aquatic organisms, their ecosystems, and their welfare, we are compelled to say: not so fast. And not like this.
Blue foods do have benefits, and they certainly have a role to play. For example, as a source of protein, farmed shellfish have a smaller carbon footprint compared to beef. And seaweed farming may increase carbon sequestration, ameliorate ocean acidification, and lead to socioeconomic gains. But the details matter, and so does the scale.
Mariculture dewilding can impact the environment, wildlife, captive animals, and humans’ view of each. (Credit: Emma Bautista)
For most of human history, the world’s oceans have been largely free of intensive farming. There have been myriad overfishing crises, but cultivation of the oceans has been limited. That may soon change.
Marine and coastal aquaculture production has soared since 1990, reaching a record 78.4 million tons in 2022. This expansion includes the growth of resource-intensive industries like salmon farming. It also includes attempts to rapidly domesticate hundreds of species. Such attempts have accelerated in recent decades, subjecting countless wild animals to captive conditions that are incompatible with their welfare. And yet, production is projected to increase for all major farmed species in the next decade.
In short, the rise of “mariculture”—farming in the ocean—is poised to dramatically alter our marine footprint. But, as we write in a new paper published last week in the journal Science Advances, the full suite of risks from mariculture are incompletely mapped.
To date, some potential impacts of ocean farming have been well studied. For example, mariculture’s potential to pass bioaccumulated pollutants to consumers and facilitate antibiotic resistance have been well documented and received media attention. But, as we found, the potential for grave and irreversible harms to animals and marine ecosystems have either been studied in isolation or remain unacknowledged.
The risks are broad and varied, but add up to an alarming concept we call “dewilding,” the process of privileging human interests, perspectives, and sovereignty at the expense of other interests and considerations. Maricultural dewilding impacts our oceans and marine life in four major ways.
First, marine farming poses environmental risks, threatening to permanently change seascapes. In addition to fish waste and refuse pollution, for example, mariculture generates antibiotic and plastic pollution. Expanding maricultural infrastructure would also contribute to “ocean sprawl,” which degrades ecological systems and wildlife habitats.
For most of human history, the world’s oceans have been largely free of intensive farming. That may soon change.
Second, mariculture endangers wildlife species and the welfare of individual wild animals. By disrupting marine habitats and increasing demand for wild fish used as feed, mariculture can contribute to wildlife population decline. Critically, it can also compromise the wellbeing of individual wild animals: for example, mariculture equipment and infrastructure can entangle and even kill seabirds, seals, dolphins, and whales.
Third, and very poorly understood, are mariculture’s captivity effects. These can include high rates of deformities, parasite infection, and disease. Moreover, slaughter methods can be inhumane, failing to stun fish prior to slaughter and using painful and stressful methods like asphyxiation. Captivity also drives physical and behavioral changes in farmed species. These changes become more pronounced and potentially harmful when animals are selectively bred or otherwise altered for desired production traits—for instance, fish who are modified to be sterile can suffer from higher rates of deformities.
And lastly, the rush to farm our oceans is changing the very nature of how humans view the marine world. Scanning the ocean for new areas to cultivate or new species to domesticate represents a shift in how we see the ocean, reducing a once wild and powerful place to yet another resource to be tapped, another set of production units to be quantified. And just as land-based farming has contributed to human-wildlife conflict—ranchers killing wolves for threatening cattle, for example—ocean farms have already generated similar conflicts, including between humans and seals attracted to the easy meal of a farmed fish.
Given all of this, one of our most surprising findings was the inevitability with which the scientific literature has discussed this massive expansion into the oceans. The assumption of expansion is just that: an assumption. Evidence-based reasoning requires looking at all available options, including the possibility of not expanding or of expanding in some areas but not others. Our findings don’t discount the promise of blue foods as part of the solution to global food and environmental challenges, but they do suggest myriad reasons to slow down, get specific, and proceed with caution.
Backed by nearly 800 scientific papers documenting the harms we call dewilding, we urge an evidence-based approach to mariculture, particularly as it relates to impacts on animals, environments, and our relationships with both. We need a different path forward—one that assesses the effects of farming in the ocean and questions the logic of expansion until we know more about what is at stake. Blue foods may yet prove to be part of the solution—but not like this.
The post Op-ed: ‘Blue Foods’ May Not Save the World appeared first on Civil Eats.