We live in a century of extraordinary achievement.

Humanity has split the atom, mapped the genome, and sent astronauts to the Moon, with plans now underway to reach Mars. Our knowledge has expanded, our tools have become more powerful, and our capacity to shape the world around us exceeds anything previous generations could have imagined. We communicate instantaneously across continents, diagnose diseases earlier, monitor climate patterns in real time, and design artificial intelligences that can aid in everything from medicine to climate modelling.

James Alix Michel

We possess the means to protect our planet, restore degraded ecosystems, and build a future that is regenerative and sustainable. The Earth still holds enough resources to feed, shelter, and nourish every person on it.

The science is clear, the solutions are known, and the pathways are increasingly understood. We know how to phase out the most damaging fossil fuels, how to design circular economies, and how to restore forests and oceans on a large scale. The question is not whether we can heal, but whether we choose to.

Instead of using this knowledge to nurture life, we spend trillions on weapons, war, and systems of domination. We continue to refine instruments of destruction with the same ingenuity that once helped us survive as hunter gatherers.

From spears and arrows to missiles and nuclear arsenals, technology has evolved far faster than our moral imagination. The same species that can design satellites and decode life itself is also capable of perfecting the means to erase itself. We have turned our curiosity into a danger when it is not paired with humility.
War has become normalised. We export violence beyond our borders, fuel conflicts in distant lands, and justify the dehumanisation of others in the name of power, ideology, or fear.

In doing so, we risk losing sight of what it means to be human: to care, to share, to protect, and to build together. Our intelligence has grown, but our ethics have often lagged behind. We have impressive control over external environments, yet we struggle to govern our own impulses—greed, resentment, the desire for domination over cooperation.

We still behave as if survival depends on conquest, as though strength is measured by the capacity to destroy rather than by the courage to cooperate.

In that sense, humanity is trapped between two identities: one capable of profound creativity and compassion, and another still governed by ancient instincts of greed, lust for power, and tribal dominance.

We have evolved in technology, but not always in spirit. We built institutions meant to protect rights and distribute justice, yet those very institutions are often weaponised or hollowed out by self interest.

The Earth is still rich enough to nourish us all. The ocean still teems with life, the land can still grow food, and the air can still be cleansed. We have the tools to live in balance, instead of in excess. We can choose renewable energy systems that do not poison our skies, farming practices that restore soil instead of depleting it, and urban designs that integrate nature instead of paving it over.

The problem is not scarcity, but choices—choices that prioritise short term gain over long term survival, accumulation over equity, and fear over trust.

If humanity is to truly evolve, it must move beyond the old logic of domination and embrace a new ethic of stewardship. This is not a soft or sentimental vision. It is a hard, practical necessity if we want civilisation to continue.

Stewardship means recognising that power is not only the ability to control, but the responsibility to protect. It means designing economies that reward regeneration, not extraction; diplomacy that favours mediation over militarisation; and education systems that nurture empathy as much as efficiency.

Progress cannot be measured only by how far we can reach into space, or how fast we can compute. It must be measured by how well we can care for the planet and for one another. It must be measured by how peacefully we resolve our differences, how fairly we share resources, and how seriously we protect the rights of future generations.

True progress is the transition from a species that merely adapts to its environment, to one that consciously shapes it for the benefit of all life, not just a privileged few.

We have not lost our humanity. We have only forgotten it.
The challenge now is to rediscover it—not as a romantic ideal, but as a practical imperative.

In a world capable of such beauty, creativity, and connection, the only true insanity is the choice to destroy rather than to heal, to dominate rather than to share, and to fear rather than to love.

After all, the moon and the stars will remain, no matter how we choose; what is at stake is whether we will still be worthy of the Earth we were given.

That is the real test of our century. And it is one we must pass together.

IPS UN Bureau

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When the 11th Our Ocean Conference opens in Mombasa and Kilifi, Kenya, from June 16-18, 2026, it will mark the first time this influential meeting has been held on African soil. For coastal and island nations across the continent and the wider Indian Ocean – and for the Global South more broadly – the stakes could not be higher: the promises and commitments made there will help decide whether the ocean becomes a source of justice and resilience, or deepens existing inequalities.

James Alix Michel

Since its launch in 2014, the Our Ocean Conference has generated a steady stream of commitments on marine conservation, sustainable fisheries, climate action and pollution control. Billions of dollars have been pledged for marine protected areas, surveillance, research and community projects. Yet, for many communities in the Global South, the reality at sea has often changed far less than the rhetoric on land. Overfishing, climate-driven ecosystem shifts and pollution continue to undermine food security and livelihoods, while benefits from the “blue economy” still tend to flow upwards to those with capital and technology.

I know this process intimately. In 2018, at the Our Ocean Conference in Bali, Indonesia (October 29–30), I was honoured to be invited by renown Philanthropist, Dona Bertarelli, and named one of the founding Pew-Bertarelli Ocean Legacy Ambassadors, alongside John Kerry, former US Secretary of State, and David Cameron, former UK Prime Minister, Heraldo Munoz former Chilean minister of Foreign Affairs and Carlotta Leon.

Our central mission was to champion large-scale marine protected areas (MPAs).

Under my presidency of Seychelles (2004–2016), we set a global example for the Global South. At Rio+20 in 2012, we announced our bold commitment to protect 30% of our 1.35 million km² Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) by 2020 – a full decade ahead of today’s global 30×30 targets. We launched the Seychelles Marine Spatial Plan (SMSP) process in 2014, involving 265 stakeholder consultations and over 100 GIS data layers, culminating in 410,000 km² (30% of our EEZ, an area larger than Germany) designated as Marine Protected Areas in March 2020, with the full SMSP becoming legally binding across our entire EEZ on March 31, 2025. We also pioneered the world’s first sovereign blue bond in October 2018 – a US$15 million issuance (with $21.6 million debt-for-nature swap via The Nature Conservancy) that reduced our borrowing costs from 6.5% to 2.8% while funding fisheries governance, marine protection and blue economy projects through SeyCCAT and the Development Bank of Seychelles.

Mombasa’s significance lies not only in geography but in timing. The High Seas Treaty – formally the BBNJ Agreement entered into force on the 17th January this year having reached 60 ratifications in 2025.

The Treaty offers, for the first time, a framework to create marine protected areas and regulate potentially harmful activities in areas beyond national jurisdiction, which cover nearly half the planet and play critical roles in climate regulation and biodiversity. For African and other developing countries, the way this agreement is implemented will test whether “common heritage of humankind” can move from slogan to reality.

Seychelles was among the first African nations to ratify BBNJ, advocating for high seas MPAs like the Saya de Malha Bank.

The treaty’s provisions on environmental impact assessments, area-based management tools, capacity-building and benefit-sharing will shape who gets to decide what happens on the high seas, and who gains or loses from emerging ocean industries. Without strong institutions, adequate financing and meaningful participation from the Global South, there is a risk that powerful states and corporations will dominate decision-making, reproducing on the ocean the same patterns of inequality seen on land.

The debate over deep-sea mining makes these concerns concrete. Proponents argue that mining polymetallic nodules and other deep-sea deposits could supply minerals needed for the energy transition.

But scientific assessments warn that such operations may cause long-lasting damage to seafloor habitats, disrupt carbon cycles and threaten species we have barely begun to study. Small-scale fishers, coastal communities and Indigenous peoples worry that the costs will be borne by those least responsible for climate change and least able to adapt.

In recent years, a broad coalition of states, scientists, civil society groups and youth movements has called for a precautionary pause or moratorium on commercial deep-sea mining in the Area. This demand is rooted in the precautionary principle and in a vision of the ocean as a living system, not just a stockpile of raw materials. For many in the Global South, it is also a justice issue: the world cannot repeat, in the deep sea, an extractive model that has left communities polluted and marginalised on land.

In Africa’s Indian Ocean, these debates are particularly urgent. Recently, I joined ocean Renown philanthropist and a strong advocate of Ocean Conservation , Dona Bertarelli in calling for a moratorium on deep-sea mining in Africa’s ocean, especially in the Indian Ocean. Our message to governments is that precaution and long-term stewardship must come before short-term profit – a principle Seychelles has applied through our SMSP and blue bonds.

Kenya has framed the 2026 conference under the theme “Our Ocean, Our Heritage, Our Future”, with a focus on jobs, equity and healthy oceans. This framing resonates across the Global South, where coastal and inland communities face converging crises of climate change, biodiversity loss and economic insecurity.

For the conference to be a turning point, African and other developing countries could push for three outcomes :

First, insist that BBNJ implementation be guided by equity: robust funding for capacity-building and technology transfer, transparent environmental assessments, and benefit-sharing that reaches frontline communities.

Second, unite behind a precautionary moratorium on deep-sea mining until independent science shows it can proceed without irreversible harm and robust global rules exist.

Third, demand commitments that improve lives: secure markets for small-scale fishers, nature-based solutions like mangrove restoration, climate-resilient infrastructure, and support for youth, women and Indigenous leadership. Seychelles proves this works – 30%+ EEZ protection with sustainable financing balancing ecology and equity.

Mombasa sits at the intersection of vulnerability and possibility, like coastal cities across the Global South. Hosting Africa’s first Our Ocean Conference offers a chance to centre perspectives of those who live with the ocean daily.

The test of Our Ocean 2026 will be whether it shifts power towards those most affected and committed to stewardship. For Africa, SIDS and the Global South, Mombasa is a moment to say: the ocean is not a frontier to be mined, but a living foundation for our survival and dignity.

James Alix Michel is the former President of Seychelles (2004–2016) and a global advocate for the blue economy, ocean conservation and climate resilience.

IPS UN Bureau

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Close-up-of-a-yellowfin-tuna-swimming-in-the-sea. Credit: Freepik---EyeEm

By James Alix Michel and Dona Bertarelli
VICTORIA, Seychelles, Feb 3 2026 (IPS)

The world is entering a decisive period for the future of the ocean. With the High Seas Treaty coming into force and meaningful progress being made on the World Trade Organization Agreement on Fisheries Subsidies, global momentum for stronger marine governance is building. Yet, new pressures linked to the push for deep-sea mining — the extraction of minerals from seabed thousands of meters below the ocean surface — threaten to undermine these gains. To safeguard progress, global decision-making will have to keep pace with such emerging risks. In this context, Africa will host several global discussions in 2026, including those that will shape the ocean’s future, with a series of opportunities for leadership starting with the African Union Summit in February to the Our Ocean Conference in Mombasa, Kenya in June.

Dona-Bertarelli-and-James-Alix-Michel-meeting-at-Our-Ocean-Bali-in-2018. Credit: Dona-Bertarelli-Philanthropy

These concerns are particularly relevant to the Western Indian Ocean (WIO), one of the most biodiverse marine regions in the world, with endemism as high as 22 per cent yet at the convergence of multiple environmental stresses. Coral reefs and mangrove forests are deteriorating, while illegal, unreported and unregulated fishing, and sand mining put additional pressure on already fragile ecosystems. The lasting impacts of the 2020 Wakashio oil spill in Mauritius show how quickly harm to the ocean can ripple across communities. In such a fragile setting, the introduction of a new extractive industry demands the highest level of scrutiny.

In the face of these emerging challenges, Seychelles has an important role to play. For decades, it has demonstrated leadership in championing the blue economy and protecting marine ecosystems. Early ratification of the BBNJ Treaty, along with advocacy for High Seas marine protected areas such as the Saya de Malha Bank, has positioned the country as a respected voice for responsible ocean governance. If deep-sea mining begins in the Pacific, the Indian Ocean is likely to follow, including on the mid-Indian Ridge east of Seychelles’ EEZ and within the Southern Indian Ocean Fisheries agreement region. Catalyzing a new wave of continental leadership on deep-sea protection would advance a vision of ocean stewardship grounded in equity and sustainability. A precautionary pause on deep-sea mining would give concrete expression to that vision.

Polymetallic nodules on the deep seabed. Credit: Deep-Rising

Scientific research continues to underline this need for caution. Deep-sea mining would have an irreversible impact on seabed ecosystems and species. And recent studies of the midwater zone, where waste plumes from deep-sea mining would spread, show that mining particles could reduce the nutritional quality of the natural food supply for zooplankton by up to ten times. This would decrease food quality and trigger effects that move through the food web, ultimately affecting larger species and the overall health of the ocean millions of people rely on. In an environment where more than 99.99 percent of the deep ocean floor has yet to be explored or directly observed, introducing large scale industrial activity could cause damage that cannot be undone.

The economic risks for the region are equally significant. The Western Indian Ocean’s natural assets have been conservatively valued at 333.8 billion dollars, making the ocean one of the region’s most important sources of long-term wealth. Within this, fisheries represent the single largest asset and a cornerstone of economic resilience. The region generates about 4.8 percent of the global fish catch, roughly 4.5 million tonnes each year, underscoring how many economies and communities depend on healthy stocks. In Seychelles and across the region, tuna fisheries in particular underpin national revenue, employment and food security. Undermining the sustainability of fisheries could therefore not only threaten livelihoods but also diminish long-term economic opportunity.

Deep-sea-creature. Credit: Schmidt-Ocean-Institute

The accelerating push for deep-sea mining activities also raises concerns about repeating historic patterns seen in other extractive sectors across Africa. The uneven distribution of benefits from land-based resource exploitation has shown how easily local communities can be left with environmental impacts while external actors capture most of the value. Without strong governance frameworks that ensure fair participation and transparent decision-making, current deep-sea mining models risk following a similar trajectory, privileging short-term economic gain for multinational corporations over regional priorities.

Finally, the argument that deep-sea mining is necessary for the renewable energy transition is also increasingly at odds with current evidence. Rapid advances in recycling technologies, circular economy approaches, and alternative materials are already reducing the projected demand for minerals from new extractions. These pathways can support the global transition without the need to industrialize one of the least understood parts of the planet. The United Nations Environment Programme has also made clear in their 2022 report that “there is currently no foreseeable way in which investment into deep-sea mining activities can be viewed as consistent with the Sustainable Blue Economy Finance Principles”.

White-sand-and-clear-turquoise-water-on-a-Seychelles-beach. Credit: Unsplash—Alin-Mecean

In parallel, African-led nature-positive initiatives are demonstrating how ocean resources can be managed in ways that support both people and the environment. Initiatives such as the Great Blue Wall aim to create connected networks of protected and restored marine areas that strengthen biodiversity, climate resilience and community wellbeing across the WIO region. These efforts demonstrate what a regenerative blue economy can look like in practice. Preserving these gains requires ensuring that new activities do not compromise the progress already made.

Across the continent, young leaders, civil society and scientific institutions are calling for greater accountability in decisions that shape our collective future. Their message is clear: long-term wellbeing for everyone must come before short-term gains for a select few. This call also echoes a growing movement worldwide, with more than 40 countries now supporting a pause on deep-sea mining, including France, Fiji, Chile and Mexico. A precautionary pause on deep-sea mining is not a rejection of economic progress, but a commitment to sound science, inclusive dialogue and responsible stewardship. We are hopeful that countries in Africa and elsewhere in the world will hear this call and secure the future of the ocean for generations to come.

James Alix Michel is the former President of Seychelles (2004–2016) and a global advocate for the blue economy, ocean conservation and climate resilience.

Dona Bertarelli is a Swiss philanthropist, IUCN Patron of Nature and biodiversity champion, deeply committed to a healthy balance between people and nature.

IPS UN Bureau

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When the world gathered in Glasgow for COP26, the mantra was “building back better.” Two years later, in Sharm El Sheikh, COP27 promised “implementation.” This year, in Belém, Brazil, COP30 arrived with a heavier burden: to finally bridge the chasm between lofty rhetoric and the urgent, measurable steps needed to keep 1.5 °C alive.

James Alix Michel

What Was Expected of COP30 was modest yet critical. After the disappointments of Copenhagen (2009) and the optimism sparked by Paris (2015), developing nations, small island states, Indigenous groups and a swelling youth movement demanded three things:

• 1. Binding phase-out timelines for coal, oil and gas.

• 2. A fully funded Loss and Damage Facility to compensate vulnerable countries already suffering climate impacts.

3. Scaled-up adaptation finance—tripling the $120 billion a year pledge and ensuring it reaches the frontline communities that need it most.

However, the negotiations evolved into a tug-of-war between ambition and inertia. Wealthier nations, still reeling from economic shocks, offered incremental increases in adaptation funding and a new Tropical Forests Forever Facility (TFFF) worth $125 billion, with 20 percent earmarked for Indigenous stewardship. The Global Implementation Accelerator—a two-year bridge to align Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) with 1.5 °C—was launched, alongside a Just Transition Mechanism to share technology and financing.

However, the text on fossil fuel phase-out remained voluntary; the Loss and Damage Fund was referenced but not capitalized; and the $120 billion adaptation pledge fell short of the $310 billion annual need.

But there were Voices That Could Not Be Ignored.

Developing Nations (the G77+China) reminded the plenary that climate justice is not a charity—it is a legal obligation under the UNFCCC. They demanded that historic emitters honor their “common but differentiated responsibilities.”

Island States (AOSIS) warned that sea level rise is no longer a future scenario; it is eroding coastlines and displacing entire cultures. Their plea: “1.5 °C is our survival, not a bargaining chip.”

Indigenous Peoples highlighted the destruction of Amazon and Boreal forests, urging that 30 percent of all climate finance flow directly to communities that protect 80 percent of biodiversity.

Youth — The Gen Z generation—marched outside the venue, chanting, “We will not be diluted,” demanding binding commitments and accountability mechanisms.

The Legacy of Copenhagen, Paris, and the Empty COPs

I attended COP15 in Copenhagen (2009), where the “Danish draft” was rejected, and the summit collapsed amid accusations of exclusion. The disappointment lingered until Paris (2015), where the 1.5 °C aspiration was enshrined, sparking hope that multilateralism could still work. Since then, COPs have been a carousel of promises: the Green Climate Fund fell $20 billion short; the 2022 Glasgow Climate Pact promised “phasing out coal” but left loopholes. Each iteration has chipped away at trust.

COP30 was billed as the moment to reverse that trend.

And the result? Partial progress, but far from the transformational shift required.

Did We Achieve What We Hoped For?

In blunt terms: No. The pledges secured are insufficient to limit warming to 1.5 °C, and critical gaps—binding fossil fuel timelines, robust loss and damage funding, and true equity in finance—remain unfilled.

Yet, there are glimmers. The tripling of adaptation finance, the first concrete allocation for Indigenous led forest protection, and the creation of an Implementation Accelerator signal that the architecture for change exists. The challenge now is to fill it with real money and accountability.

Let us look at ‘What Must Happen Next

• 1. Full Capitalisation of Loss and Damage Fund

• – G20 nations must commit 0.1 % of GDP and disburse within 12 months.

• 2. Binding Fossil Fuel Phase out – Coal, oil and gas with just transition financing for workers.

• 3. Scale Adaptation Finance to $310 billion/yr

• – Re channel subsidies from fossil fuels to resilience projects.

• 4. Direct Funding for Indigenous and Youth Initiatives

• – Allocate 30 % of climate finance to community led stewardship.

• 5. Strengthen Accountability

– Mandate annual NDC updates with independent verification and penalties for noncompliance.

But for all this to become reality, there must be a determined effort to achieve Future Actions.
We have watched promises fade after every COP, yet the physics of climate change remain unforgiving. The urgency is not new; the window to act is shrinking. But hope endures – in the solar panels lighting remote villages, in mangroves being restored to buffer storms, and in the relentless energy of young activists demanding a livable planet.

Humanity has the knowledge, technology, and resources. What we need now is the collective political will to use them. Let COP30 be remembered not as another empty summit, but as the turning point where the world chose survival over complacency.

The future is not written; we write it with every decision we make today.

James Alix Michel, Former President Republic of Seychelles, Member Club de Madrid.

IPS UN Bureau

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General Plenary Session of Leaders at the United Nations Climate Change Conference COP 30. Credit: Ueslei Marcelino/COP3

By James Alix Michel
VICTORIA, Nov 12 2025 (IPS)

COP30 Brazil, though shadowed by the absence of many world leaders, remains a pivotal milestone in the global fight against climate change, tasked with building on the Paris Agreement’s momentum. Yet the glaring lack of commitment, coupled with withdrawals from the accord, casts a grim shadow over the future. The planet continues to warm, and scientists warn that current targets may not prevent a catastrophic temperature spike. While the summit’s focus on implementation not just new promises—is a welcome shift, it’s clear: words alone won’t cool the Earth.

James Alix Michel

Brazil’s leadership in championing nature-based solutions, like safeguarding the Amazon rainforest, is a beacon of hope. The conference ignited critical discussions on climate finance, adaptation, and resilience for vulnerable nations. The Baku-to-Belem Roadmap’s goal of mobilizing $1.3 trillion annually for developing countries is ambitious but necessary. Yet challenges loom large: wealthy nations’ apathy, geopolitical fractures, and the lingering impact of the U.S. withdrawal from Paris. COP30’s success hinges on action.

The Stakes Are Dire

The IPCC warns: we’re on track for 2.5–3°C warming by 2100 if pledges are not met. This spells ruin: crippling droughts, unlivable cities, mass migration, and ecosystems collapsing. The Amazon, a vital carbon sink, is nearing a ‘tipping point’ of irreversible dieback. Island nations face existential threats. The climate crisis is not a distant threat—it’s here.

Why COP30 Matters

1. Implementation Over Pledges: Past summits yielded lofty goals, but delivery has lagged. COP30 must hold nations accountable. No more empty vows.

2. Climate Finance: Developing countries need predictable funding, not charity. The $100 billion/year promise remains unfulfilled. Wealthy nations must pay their share.

3. Adaptation and Resilience: Frontline communities in Africa, Small Island States, and the Global South can’t wait. Funding for early warnings, flood defenses, and drought-resistant crops isn’t a favor; it’s justice.

4. Global Unity: Geopolitics must not derail progress. The world needs cooperation, not competition.

The Human Cost:

Millions already suffer. Cyclones, wildfires, famine, mass migration, and sea-level rise. This isn’t ‘someday’; it’s now. Indigenous groups, youth activists, and scientists plead: stop debating. Act.

Yet amid the urgency, COP30 saw glimmers. Brazil’s Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva pushed for Amazon protection. African nations demanded reparations for historical emissions. The Global South called for “Equity first.”

The Road Ahead: COP31 and Beyond.

Future summits must:

• • Enforce transparency: Track emissions cuts, not just promises.
  • Prioritize loss & damage: Compensate those already paying the price.
  • Work towards ending fossil fuels: No new coal projects.
  • Empower youth: Include communities, not just politicians.

A Call to Leaders: Pledges Aren’t Leadership

When leaders make commitments, they bind their nations to honor them. Empty promises are not leadership. The world isn’t a battleground for wars—it’s our only home. We’re all in this together. No more excuses. Action isn’t optional.

The clock ticks. The Amazon burns. The oceans rise. We need solutions. And we know what the solutions are. Now we need action.

Let’s choose life. For the planet and for ourselves.

James Alix Michel, Former President Republic of Seychelles, Member Club de Madrid, Founder James Michel Foundation.

IPS UN Bureau

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It is time to shine a spotlight on small island nations in different parts of the world, argues James Alix Michel, former President Republic of Seychelles.

By James Alix Michel
VICTORIA, Sep 24 2025 (IPS)

Like so many problems besetting the world, the existential threats facing small island states are all too obvious. Island nations are surrounded by the sea, and they depend on it for their livelihood and for their security. The sheer power of the sea can never be tamed but islanders have learnt to work with it and in doing so, there has always been a productive balance. But this balance, however, has been cast aside – the relationship has broken down. Our mighty ocean is in poor shape.

The Ocean has been wilfully exploited by the world, in the name of ‘progress’. And it is now hitting back. We are all too familiar with related issues of rising sea levels, overfishing, the polluting effects of shipping, seabed mining, acidification and the destruction of marine ecosystems. And the list goes on. The question now is what can be done about it. Or is it too late?

The world’s superpowers are more preoccupied in their own competition for primacy, middle-ranking powers scrambling to catch up with those above them and small island states, who are not blameless, with all too many examples of harmful development.

James Alix Michel

Sadly, we are running out of options. Various international institutions responsible for driving solutions have become overly bureaucratic and subject to partisan interests, which in turn slows down progress in conservation and sustainability efforts. The United Nations—once everyone’s hope in averting international crisis—is in many ways failing to deliver. There is no magic wand to be waved in that forum. But some people do care, and young people especially. If a top-down approach has not worked, can we even now do more to activate change from the bottom up? This is probably our best hope of reversing the downward trend. So how would we do it?

Firstly, at the individual and community level, focus on promoting sustainable practices that reduces pollution, reduces carbon footprints, restores habitats and increases ocean literacy. These grassroots actions will drive change from the ground-up, opening doors to influence policy.

Secondly, grow local action. There are already some wonderful initiatives around the world. And they really do make a difference – protecting marine breeding grounds, restoring coral reefs, replanting mangrove and coastal coconut plantations, creating green coastal defences. But these are not enough. Multiply the number of projects not by measly single figures but by a hundred!

Thirdly, make our political systems more responsive. Leaders are too often elected with manifestos that are quickly forgotten. Lest we forget that leaders must prioritize the ocean because it is fundamental to human health, planetary stability, and economic prosperity. Ignoring ocean health would worsen, if not trigger, severe climate impacts leading to economic instability, making its protection a matter of human survival and sustainable development.

Next, use the media effectively to shine a spotlight on small island nations in different parts of the world. Show the state of the ocean now but also show what is being done locally to stop the rot. Point out that tourists can themselves act as a force for change by supporting local economies, raising awareness for marine health, reducing their own impact and directly participating in conservation actions. When done right, marine tourism can become one of the most powerful tools for ocean conservation and restoration.

Lastly, a high-profile competition in which all small island states present their own bottom-up plans. This would be not only a matter of status and prestige but also material benefit in attracting further investment. It would soon become evident which are doing the most to save the ocean and which are not. Those in the latter category would then be encouraged to adopt some of the winning ways.

Notably, Sustainable Development Goal 14, which focuses on life below water, remains the least funded among all SDGs due to Ocean health being seen as a less immediate or tangible priority compared to other issues, despite its critical role in supporting life on Earth. Yet, high profile events such as The Monaco Ocean Protection Challenge and other high profile initiatives are continuously encouraging creative expression from the youth and attracting political and industry leaders to support innovative and powerful solutions to save the Ocean.

The fact is that it would be all too easy to throw in the towel. Things have deteriorated so much, but it is never too late to fight back. The stakes in this case are too high to dismiss. Saving the ocean should not be a mere slogan. We need to be able to see its manifestation in the sea. Act now!

IPS UN Bureau Report

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