The way deep-sea mining is discussed in international policy forums and boardrooms is unsettling. The terminology is forward-thinking, bordering on clinical: “resource security,” “battery-grade minerals,” “the green transition.” The fact that no one fully understands what exists four kilometers below the ocean’s surface and that removing metal nodules from the seafloor could permanently destroy ecosystems that took millions of years to form are topics that are rarely discussed.
The growing demand for cobalt, nickel, and manganese—metals necessary for solar panels and electric vehicle batteries—has contributed to the pressure to mine the deep sea for years. In contrast to terrestrial mining, which is linked to deforestation, uprooted communities, and harsh working conditions, proponents contend that the seabed provides a cleaner option. On the surface, it seems like a strong case. However, an increasing amount of scientific research indicates that deep-sea mining would only exacerbate the environmental risks associated with land-based extraction rather than replace it.
For years, the intergovernmental organization that oversees the ocean floor outside of national borders, the International Seabed Authority, has been stealthily developing a Mining Code. The openly pro-mining Michael Lodge was replaced as Secretary-General in 2024 by Leticia Reis de Carvalho, a change that suggested some institutional reckoning with the issues advocacy groups and scientists had been bringing up for years. However, as of early 2025, 31 exploration contracts had been approved by the ISA and none had ever been turned down. Sitting with that is worthwhile.
The corporate structure that underlies everything makes this situation especially challenging to unravel. Many of the businesses with exploration licenses are tiny, poorly funded startups, not the type of enterprise you would anticipate deploying fleets of deep-water robotics throughout the Pacific. When the true ownership of these organizations is traced, more complex financial arrangements involving offshore construction companies, aerospace interests, and defense-related industries become apparent. This opacity may be accidental. It might not be, too. In any case, it makes establishing accountability all but impossible.

Researchers use the term “distance” to describe the intentional or unintentional separation between the communities and ecosystems that bear the costs of extraction and the individuals who profit from it. This dynamic has been well documented in food systems. It is also common in supply chains for minerals. It functions at an extreme level in deep-sea mining. It is literally impossible to see the ocean floor. Pacific Island nations that rely on marine ecosystems for food and culture are among the communities most likely to experience indirect effects, and they frequently have the least influence in the decision-making rooms.
It’s difficult to ignore the fact that the same justifications for previous resource rushes are being applied here. There is no denying the existence and urgency of the green energy transition. However, using the seabed as a sacrifice zone for solar panels and electric vehicle batteries entails a kind of moral accounting that merits much closer examination than it currently receives. Domestic seabed exploration is already being advanced by Norway and Japan. The ISA is being heavily lobbied by private companies supported by opaque investor networks. The gap between scientific knowledge and economic reasoning is growing.
A moratorium, or a precautionary halt before commercial operations start, is being demanded by some states. Scientists who point out that environmental risk assessments for deep-sea ecosystems face significant data limitations—we just don’t know what we’d be destroying—are quietly supporting that viewpoint. In the Pacific, Greenpeace has frequently interfered with exploration ships. The contestation is genuine and getting more intense. However, economic momentum and contestation are distinct forces, and one of them usually prevails.
Observing all of this gives me the impression that the deep sea is being handled in the same manner as every new frontier: as a resource that is just waiting to be exploited, with its expenses to be resolved later, by someone else, somewhere else. Deep-sea mining is being opposed by an increasingly compelling environmental argument. Thus far, the economic argument continues to prevail.
