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On July 25, the International Seabed Authority (ISA) was set to decide whether deep-sea mining will be allowed in international waters—a pivotal moment given the intense global debate surrounding this decision. However, the meeting concluded without a definitive outcome. The ISA neither imposed a moratorium on deep-sea mining nor adopted a mining code to allow large-scale exploitation of the ocean floor. The fate of the deep sea has now been deferred to future meetings, with mounting pressure to establish clear rules.
Back in April 2025, US President Donald Trump signed an executive order to fast-track deep-sea mining in both domestic and international waters. The move sparked controversy, particularly because the White House authorised mining in territories it doesn't actually control. Still, the US is not the first country to allow deep-sea mining in its domestic waters.
A handful of other nations, including Japan, New Zealand, Norway and Papua New Guinea, have already started issuing permits to mine in their waters. However, most commercially viable mineral deposits can be found in international waters, which the ISA regulates.
The seabed contains significant and so far untapped reserves of copper, cobalt, nickel, zinc, silver, gold, rare earth elements and other resources. In general, deep-sea mining refers to the extraction of polymetallic nodules—potato-sized lumps of metal-rich minerals—from depths of hundreds or even thousands of meters. The process typically involves ‘vacuuming’ these nodules from the seabed, processing them aboard surface vessels, and dumping the residual waste back into the ocean.
Despite a growing body of research, our knowledge of deep-sea ecosystems and the potential effects of human activity there remains scarce. However, available evidence shows that the ocean floor may take centuries to recover from commercial exploitation.
Mining activities could harm fragile marine habitats in many ways: from killing seabed organisms to disturbing the seafloor, which leads to turbid waters, reduced water quality, and broader negative impacts on sea life, potentially affecting areas much larger than the actual mining site. Hence, many nations have called for a ban on deep-sea mining, with French President Emmanuel Macron describing it as ‘madness’.
Given these risks, the question remains: if deep-sea mining is so harmful, why is it even on the table?
The answer lies in a growing global dilemma. The energy transition requires vast amounts of raw materials for renewable energy infrastructure, electrification, and related activities. For example, the global demand for nickel, cobalt and rare earth elements is estimated to double by 2040 if nations stick to their climate commitments. The world cannot wait—it needs these materials now.
However, new mining projects on land face numerous challenges, such as resistance by local communities—particularly vocal in Europe—and environmental concerns. Many potential mining sites are located in areas no less vulnerable than seabed ecosystems. Not to mention the long lead times and investments required to bring new projects online.
By contrast, deep-sea mining is increasingly framed by some as a ‘lesser evil’: it could help close supply gaps and accelerate the energy transition. Proponents emphasise that mining at sea will not lead to deforestation, toxic tailings, displacement of people and other impacts associated with terrestrial mining. Because nodules have typically a high mineral content, hence deep-sea mining also produces relatively less waste for its value.
According to deep-sea mining advocates, strict regulation would ensure the restoration of ecosystems after extraction and compensation for damage to the environment and affected communities. Such regulation is not always present—or enforced—on land, where mining often occurs in places with weak governance and involves informal labour or even slavery.
But how environmental regulations will be enforced at sea remains an open question. Does the ISA have the resources to monitor activity and hold violators accountable? International law is often undermined by political interests, with many nations openly ignoring its mandates—for example, Israel in Gaza and Russia in Ukraine. Similar dynamics may play out in international waters.
Experience with offshore fossil fuel extraction and industrial fishing offers little reason to believe that responsible sourcing will become the industry standard at sea. Measures intended to ensure responsible practices are often sidelined by commercial interests, and even when adopted, they are difficult to enforce. Oversight is expensive, easy to evade, and evidence of violations will be hard to obtain.
Lesser evil or not, deep-sea mining could still be avoided, especially given that viable alternatives exist. Meeting the demand for raw materials is no easy task, but some options are less harmful than opening up the ocean floor. Consider the circular economy, which emphasises reducing demand by extending the lifetime of products and equipment, reusing and repairing existing stock, and recycling. A growth in recycling capabilities alone could lower the need for virgin raw materials by 25-40% by 2050.
This potential is recognised in the EU Critical Raw Materials Act, which promotes recycling alongside a growth in new mining initiatives within its boundaries. It contains legally binding measures to improve the collection of material-rich waste, ensure its recycling, and recover critical raw materials from extractive waste. To incentivise magnet recycling, the Act sets requirements on recyclability and recycled content.
But recycling isn’t enough on its own. Reducing inefficiencies and excessive material use is equally essential. Take electric cars, for example. The latest data shows that roughly two‑thirds of EV models introduced in 2023 are large cars, SUVs, or pickups—a sharp rise from under 50% just a few years ago. This trend is driven more by consumer preferences and profit motives than necessity. Smaller EVs are technologically feasible, require smaller batteries, take fewer materials to make, and consume less energy. So, before rushing to mine more lithium, we should consider concepts that use smaller batteries in the first place.
The same logic applies to renewable energy infrastructure. Currently, 64% of materials from decommissioned wind turbines are recycled. However, the sector's overall circularity remains around 30% due to the heavy reliance on virgin materials. Some components, such as wind turbine blades, are currently made from unrecyclable fibreglass. But alternatives already exist, like biocompatible resin and other recyclable composites. According to a report by Circle Economy and Bain & Company, designing turbines with both efficiency and recyclability in mind could reduce the demand for new materials by up to 15% by 2040.
Like the ocean floor, the circular economy holds vast—and largely untapped—potential. But unlike deep-sea mining, its impacts are well understood and overwhelmingly positive. A circular economy can reduce environmental pressures while enhancing the long-term resilience of the global economy.
There is no denying that new mining projects are necessary to support the energy transition, decarbonise our energy systems, and mitigate climate change. But deep-sea mining should be a last resort, not a first option. Only after we eliminate inefficiencies, maximise recycling, and exhaust the safest land-based mining options should it even be considered.
That time has not yet come.
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