A camera on a remotely controlled vehicle was gliding several kilometers below the Pacific’s surface in early October of last year when an amazing image appeared on the screen. A pale, nearly translucent creature with tentacles trailing in long, delicate threads and fins shaped like orchid petals drifted into the frame. It was a bigfin squid, a species that has been seen by scientists less than twice in recorded history. No one has ever caught one in person. Polymetallic nodules and geopolitical agreements were completely forgotten for a brief moment by the crew of the E/V Nautilus and thousands of viewers of the live feed on the internet. All they were witnessing was something truly bizarre and living.
That moment of wonder, which took place over 5,000 meters below the surface in the Cook Islands’ exclusive economic zone, perfectly encapsulates the peculiar tension that currently permeates the entire Pacific seabed debate. Because billions of dollars’ worth of cobalt, nickel, copper, and manganese are found on the same ocean floor that creates footage like that, featuring ghostly creatures, undiscovered sponges, and sea cucumbers traveling slowly across plains covered in nodules. And the world is beginning to take a close look at what’s down there due to its growing need for critical minerals and battery metals.
The Cook Islands, which control a maritime region covering almost two million square kilometers, are situated between American Samoa and French Polynesia. The entire area serves as the Marae Moana, a marine protected area. It’s an impressive designation that conveys true concern for the environment. However, the government has already granted three deep-sea mining exploration licenses that are scheduled to expire in 2027, and at least one American-owned business, Moana Minerals, has indicated that it plans to apply for an exploitation license in the same year. The company’s CEO, Hans Smit, has stated in public that the objective is to minimize environmental harm. Additionally, he has candidly admitted that his organization still lacks a complete understanding of the seafloor ecosystem. Anyone should hesitate after hearing that admission.
During its three weeks at sea, the E/V Nautilus expedition, which was supported by a $200 million NOAA grant spread over ten years, mapped more than 14,000 square kilometers of unexplored Cook Islands seafloor. The science itself appears credible; the data is made available to the public, goes to Cook Islands authorities, and closes actual knowledge gaps. The expedition’s leader and director of the Ocean Exploration Cooperative Institute, Adam Soule, has made it clear that the goal of the mission was research rather than prospecting.
The kayaking demonstrators who confronted the ship at Rarotonga’s port struck him as “odd,” considering that opponents of deep-sea mining usually contend that further study is necessary before making any business decisions. It’s a valid point. However, it’s also possible that skepticism was unavoidable due to how quickly the mission was put together, coming together in a matter of months following the announcement of a U.S.-Cook Islands agreement in August. Many observers perceived the expedition as science with an exceptionally distinct geopolitical tailwind.
There is a direction to that tailwind. A U.S. executive order issued in April 2024 demanded that deep-sea mining be accelerated for reasons of national security. A “Blue Partnership” for seabed mineral research was established between China and the Cook Islands during this time. One tiny island nation, two superpowers, and an ocean floor that neither side fully comprehends. The Cook Islands seem to be asked to make a civilizational decision about whether to jeopardize a poorly understood ecosystem in order to obtain minerals that the world claims it urgently needs, all the while gathering the fundamental information needed to make that decision responsibly.
This pressure is being applied in parallel to American Samoa. Local leaders voiced concerns almost immediately when the U.S. Department of the Interior started looking into deep-sea mineral leasing in federal waters close to the territory last year. These concerns weren’t about mining in general, but rather about the potential effects of sediment plumes from seafloor operations on tuna fisheries, which provide food and income for entire communities. For the time being, the process is still exploratory, but the anxiety is real and understandable. According to models, plumes produced by mining could disrupt the zooplankton and micronekton that feed the fish that feed people by spreading hundreds of kilometers horizontally. Some studies suggest that recovery times may extend into the centuries.
It’s difficult to ignore the fact that some of the smallest and least powerful countries in the room are also the ones being asked to bear the greatest risk. Through the International Seabed Authority, Pacific states have advocated for a precautionary halt to deep-sea mining, claiming that scientific advancements have not kept up with commercial aspirations. Exploration licenses have been approved by the ISA, but exploitation frameworks continue to stall. In the meantime, instruments for marine protected areas and environmental impact assessments in international waters would be created by the High Seas Treaty, which Pacific countries are actively ratifying. For these countries, sovereignty is not a concept of rhetoric. It’s the distinction between making your own decision and having one made for you.
Before the expedition left in August, June Hosking of the Te Ipukarea Society, a local environmental organization that has opposed deep-sea mining, met with U.S. officials back in the Cook Islands. Before anyone considers eliminating the nodules, she asked the scientists to concentrate on comprehending their ecological role. That request seems like the most sensible thing in the world coming from someone who is witnessing her nation’s ocean floor become a topic of international negotiation.
