
For Indigenous Peoples, scientists, and conservation advocates working to prevent deep-sea mining (DSM), 2026 has brought both a major victory and a sobering reminder of how much work remains ahead.
On January 17, 2026, the United Nation’s Agreement on the Conservation and Sustainable Use of Marine Biological Diversity of Areas Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ), commonly known as the “High Seas Treaty,” officially entered into force.
Adopted in 2023 after years of negotiation and advocacy, the treaty represents one of the most significant international ocean conservation agreements in modern history.
The BBNJ seeks to protect biodiversity in international waters and supports the global “30×30” conservation initiative – an effort to place at least 30% of the world’s oceans under protection by 2030 to halt biodiversity loss, build ecosystem resilience and mitigate climate change.
Its implementation comes at a critical moment.
For the past several years, the International Seabed Authority (ISA), established under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), has debated whether to approve regulations that could open the door to commercial deep-sea mining in international waters.
Now, the two agreements will shape the future governance of the high seas together.
“UNCLOS and the ISA govern the seabed itself,” explained Hawaiian cultural practitioner and international ocean advocate Solomon Pili Kahoʻohalahala. “The BBNJ governs the living ocean above it — the water column and biodiversity. Between the two, they now influence the future of nearly two-thirds of the world’s oceans.”
“High seas” includes all parts of the ocean beyond the 200-nautical-mile exclusive economic zones (territorial seas, internal waters or archipelagic waters) of a nation state. UNCLOS further establishes the high seas as the “common heritage of humankind” regardless of a nation’s proximity to the ocean.
A total of 89 United Nations member states ratified the BBNJ treaty, far surpassing the 60 ratifications required for it to take effect. Notably, Pacific Rim nations such as Chile, Panama, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Mexico, Japan, and China ratified the agreement. The United States, Russia, and Canada did not.
For Indigenous advocates, one of the treaty’s most critically important advances is its recognition of Indigenous knowledge systems and the role of Indigenous Peoples in ocean stewardship. Indigenous participation is framed through consultation and knowledge-sharing, and the treaty acknowledges that traditional knowledge and western science can work together to protect marine ecosystems.
Yet despite that progress, many Indigenous leaders believe a critical opportunity was missed.
In the final stages of negotiation, Pacific Small Island Developing States (PSIDS) were unable to reach consensus on language that would have more directly formalized Indigenous participation in decision-making processes under the treaty.
“It’s disappointing,” Kahoʻohalahala said. “We came very close to establishing stronger mechanisms for Indigenous participation in international ocean governance. That would have changed the future of these discussions.”
The issue is expected to resurface during the first Conference of the Parties (COP1) for the BBNJ treaty in January 2027, where governance structures and implementation mechanisms will continue to be negotiated.
For Kahoʻohalahala, however, the debate reaches far beyond legal frameworks and treaty language.
At the center of his work is a broader concept he describes as “ocean governance” — an Indigenous framework grounded in relationship and responsibility rather than ownership and extraction.
“Indigenous peoples of Oceania come from the ocean,” he said. “We understand ourselves as part of creation, not separate from it. That creates a very different relationship to governance.”
He often points to the Kumulipo, the Native Hawaiian creation chant, as a foundation for understanding humanity’s genealogical relationship to the natural world.
“The Kumulipo reminds us that the ocean is not a resource separate from ourselves. It is our ancestor. That worldview is fundamentally different from systems built around control, ownership, and domination.”
Kahoʻohalahala argues that many existing international governance systems continue to reflect colonial-era assumptions about authority and resource management. “European powers developed systems based on dominance over lands, peoples, and resources,” he said. “Those systems still shape international policy today.”
He believes Oceania has the potential to offer another path.
“If Pacific peoples stood together and asserted our collective responsibility to care for the ocean — not merely exploit it — that could become a powerful force in international affairs.”
That conversation becomes especially urgent as the United States unilaterally accelerates efforts to advance deep-sea mining within the waters of its Pacific territories, irrespective of the debate taking place at the ISA and despite resolute opposition from residents of the affected communities.
In April 2025, President Donald Trump issued an executive order titled “Unleashing America’s Offshore Critical Minerals and Resources,” intended to fast-track access to strategic seabed minerals.
Several months after the EO was issued, and with the backing of every major political leader in American Sāmoa, Congressional Rep. Amata Coleman Radewagen wrote in comments to the Department of the Interior, “There is strong opposition to any exploration or extraction of minerals from the ocean floor in waters near American Sāmoa.”
Similarly, in a letter to Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee Chair Mike Lee earlier this year, Commonwealth of Northern Mariana Islands (CNMI) Gov. David Apatang and Guåhan (Guam) Gov. Lou Leon Guerrero called for a moratorium on deep-sea mining in the Marianas.
Nevertheless, on May 21, 2026, the Associated Press reported that at least nine companies are currently in talks with the Trump administration, queueing up to obtain licenses and leases to mine in waters off American Sāmoa, CNMI, Guåhan and Alaska.
“The United States is moving forward as if Pacific peoples do not exist,” Kahoʻohalahala said. “As if our voices and concerns are irrelevant because these territories fall under U.S. authority. That is deeply offensive.”
He also notes a significant shift in the rhetoric surrounding the need for deep-sea mining.
Initially promoted as necessary for “green energy” technologies such as electric vehicle batteries, proponents increasingly frame DSM as essential for military readiness and national security competition with China and Russia.
One reason for the shift has to do with emerging developments in green technology. In August 2025, Japanese automaker Toyota unveiled what it calls a “water engine” likely based on hydrogen combustion or hydrogen fuel cell technology powered by water-derived hydrogen. If successful, this zero emission technology would be revolutionary.
“The narrative around deep-sea mining is changing,” Kahoʻohalahala observed. “Now it’s about militarization and strategic dominance.”
Still, he remains cautiously optimistic.
Despite years of discussion and industry pressure, no commercial-scale deep-sea mining operation currently exists anywhere in the world. Major technological, financial, legal, and environmental hurdles remain unresolved. Kahoʻohalahala speculates that commercial scale capacity is at least five years away.
“There is still no fully operational system capable of mining at commercial scale in the deep ocean,” he said. “Much of the technology is still experimental.”
Kahoʻohalahala believes this reality creates an important window of opportunity for Indigenous peoples, Pacific communities, scientists, and environmental advocates to shape international policy before irreversible harm occurs.
“We are not powerless,” he said. “Pacific peoples have observed and understood the ocean for generations. That knowledge is an inheritance. The question now is whether we will put it into action.”
“For Hawaiʻi and for all of Moananuiākea, this is ultimately about responsibility – to our ancestors, to future generations, and to the living ocean itself.”
What is Deep-sea Mining?

Deep-sea Mining (DSM) is the extraction of commercially valuable mineral deposits from the ocean floor. It is essentially undersea strip mining whereby massive machines (think 35 tons) are lowered to the ocean floor by surface ships.
There, at depths of 2.5 – 3.5 miles below the surface, they bulldoze over the pristine ocean floor, scraping off the top layer of sediment – and every living organism in their way – to extract the polymetallic nodules that rest on the ocean floor.
Polymetallic nodules are fist-sized rocks comprised of layers of precious metals like copper, nickel, manganese and cobalt, that build up over millions of years around marine debris, such as bits of coral.
The sediment and nodules are sucked up through giant tubes to the ships, and then the excess water and sediments are returned to the ocean, creating a sediment plume that includes dissolved heavy metals and other toxins.
These “mid-water discharge plumes” are not released on the ocean floor, but at depths about halfway between the seabed and the surface. As a result, the toxic sediment can travel on deep ocean currents anywhere from tens to hundreds of miles from the discharge site. They can also work their way into our food chain through pelagic fish like ʻahi, aku, mahimahi and ono.
DSM would have a catastrophic, irreversible impact on the health and biodiversity of our marine ecosystem and possibly the entire planet.
Of particular concern to Hawaiʻi is the Clarion-Clipperton Zone (CCZ), located about 500 miles south of Kaʻū, Hawaiʻi Island. It is believed to have one of the richest deposits of polymetallic nodules and if DSM is approved, the CCZ will be a primary target of mining corporations.



