The topic for this blog post fits rather well with last week’s seminar topic of the non-human, or ‘more-than human’: sea-life. While our class focused on non-animal environmental forces, I thought it could be interesting to do some research into another area of the non-human and write a blog post on that topic. Given our current climate emergency, a topic touched on in class and given as a possible reason for the surge in non-human historical study in recent years, I believe strongly in our commitment to protecting our planet.
After watching Netflix’s Seaspiracy, my eyes were opened to the transnational nature of global fishing. It seems an obvious fact that fish are transnational creatures and the fishing industry a transnational practise, but it was something I had not given much thought to prior to sitting down to watch this. This new ability to recognise transnational links is something touched on by both Naomi and Douglas in their blog posts this week, and is a very valuable new skill.
A 2010 study revealed that an estimated 44.9 people in 2008 were directly engaged in the fishing industry, with 85.5 per cent of these being in Asia, and 9.3 per cent in Africa.[1] Not only is much of the fish we consume in Britain sourced globally, but there are many complex social and political contexts we can delve into when picking out a point in the supply chain. Putting these links in an environmental context, we are shown that the current situation is not sustainable, and the seas will eventually run out of fish.
While individuals can differ on the importance of animal rights, the documentary also shows us the dark side of fishing’s infringement on human rights; something we should all be concerned about. The modern slavery involved in fishing industry was something I was unaware of, but that plays an integral role in the capturing of fish consumed worldwide. When researching more on this topic, I found a report by the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime entitled ‘Transnational Organised Crime in the Fishing Industry’, which uncovered some eye-opening facts. The prevalence of fishers trafficked for forced labour was unveiled, as fishers were cruelly imprisoned on fishing vessels, often suffering sever physical and sexual abuse, and general lack of acceptable safety and working conditions. They found that the transnational nature of the fishing industry, as well as the legitimate presence of vessels at sea, was the main contributor to the opportunity for the industry to be a cover for criminal activities such as drug trafficking. [2]
Importantly, the UN’s study was explicit in stating that its aim was not to “tarnish the fishing industry”.[3] Their goal was to uncover whether there were criminal activities taking place within the transnational fishing industry. Here we see where Seaspriacy falls, and where transnational history faces challenges too. In the west we are benefitting from this slavery, yet we are damning it as inhumane and disgraceful. It is fine to study transnational history, but to critique and bash from the west perpetuates the kind of history we are trying to rid ourselves off in endeavouring to study a more nuanced and transnational history. What’s more is that the documentary hails practises such as dolphin culling in Taiji in Japan as abhorrent. This practise is used by the communities as a way to rid the seas of competing predators of fish, thus allowing them to catch more themselves. But we are a primary consumer of the tuna which is caught by these fisheries, the production of which we cannot stand to face. We are thus a primary producer of the fishing garbage which makes up 40% of the great pacific garbage patch. Our beaches are (relatively) clean in comparison, but we do not have a leg to stand on to critique.
To sum up, the message of the documentary is clear; eat less fish or we risk killing ourselves. But problematic is the message that in the west we are the pristine consumers, separate from the disgrace of the east Asian fishing industry. The documentary creator, though his message and love for our oceans comes from the right place, I believe, is a British white male in his 20s, who reduces the evil in the fishing industry to a simple narrative; that fishing is the problem. He assumes that the simple solution of ceasing to eat fish will solve our problem, without considering the history, culture, and politics involved in the profoundly transnational industry. The documentary pulled people in, myself included, but if we scratch the surface we see the problematic nature of white saviour and ‘other’ demon. So, while I’m not entirely sure this is a transnational history per se, I did think it an interesting topic to pose, and one which, perhaps had I not been studying this module, I likely would have completely missed. The ability to recognise and consider transnational links thus benefits my everyday life in more ways than perhaps thought!
[1] http://www.fao.org/3/i1820e/i1820e.pdf
[2] https://www.unodc.org/documents/human-trafficking/Issue_Paper_-_TOC_in_the_Fishing_Industry.pdf
[3] https://www.unodc.org/documents/human-trafficking/Issue_Paper_-_TOC_in_the_Fishing_Industry.pdf