I did not write this essay. I recorded myself giving an hour long lecture at Cornell this week and loaded the transcript into ChatGPT and asked it to highlight the main arguments and recommendations from my talk. If you attended my talk, I think you would agree this is an accurate encapsulation of what I said.
When I was a college student we took an honor pledge, that the work we submitted was our own. These are my words and ideas, but they are rearranged by a computer. I can't even begin to imagine how professors and colleges are dealing with the rise of AI in the classroom, and the nuances of what is ethical and allowed.
I was reading Kamala Harris' book 107 Days this week, and in it she talks about how lawyers joke about the argument they wanted to make, the argument they made, and the argument they should have made. The same is true of my Cornell talk. There was the talk I planned to make, the talk I made, and the talk I should have made. I'm giving this talk a few more times this year, and this AI generated outline will help me prepare to give the talk I should and planned to give. It's a powerful tool, but is it ethical? Please enjoy my thoughts on area targets and ocean conservation.
The Rise and Limits of Area Targets
Western conservation as a movement began more than a century ago with calls to protect scenic landscapes for recreation and aesthetics. It matured through the work of Rachel Carson and Aldo Leopold into campaigns to save whales and rainforests. In recent decades, ocean policy shifted toward quantitative area targets: from the 5% milestone achieved in 2016 to the global 30% goal by 2030. With Angelo as one of its architects, 30x30 gained traction in international forums and U.S. policy, including Biden's America the Beautiful initiative.
Yet Goodhart’s law—“when a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure”—reveals cracks. Protected areas ballooned from less than 1% to over 10% of the ocean globally within 25 years, but distribution is highly skewed. 99% of U.S. marine protection lies in the Pacific Islands, where local voting rights are limited in the US territories. Globally, the largest marine protected areas often occupy overseas territories rather than sovereign homelands. Because emphasis was on boundaries, many MPAs suffer from weak implementation, poor planning and design, lack of funding for enforcement, and exclusion of local voices.
Hidden Costs: Governance, Equity, and Colonial Patterns
MPA expansion has often mirrored colonial legacies. Countries designate no-take zones in territories where political representation is limited and economic interests are minimal. In the lower forty-eight U.S. states, by contrast, MPAs are small, multi-use, and reflect compromise between commercial fishing and conservation. That disparity is intrinsically unfair and undermines both equity and effectiveness. Complicated jurisdictional overlaps further hamper success. Multiple federal and state agencies may claim authority over one nearshore bay, while Tribal communities face underfunded staffing and limited infrastructure to participate. Washington, DC decision-making can feel distant from island realities, leading to policies that neglect local priorities. Parachute conservation—outsiders imposing plans without context—repeats this pattern, perpetuating mistrust and implementation gaps.
Shining a Light on Nearshore Habitats
Large offshore MPAs struggle to capture nearshore habitats, even though those ecosystems punch well above their spatial footprint in biodiversity protection, storm buffering, pollution control, and carbon sequestration. Seagrass meadows store carbon at rates comparable to tropical forests. Kelp forests on the West Coast host one third of global kelp biomass despite covering a narrow coastal band. Coastal wetlands in the United States lose 80,000 acres to development every year.
Those habitats are under threat from diffuse, non-acute stressors—nutrient runoff, shoreline development, invasive species—that cross arbitrary MPA boundaries. They also often require restoration rather than preservation, demanding sustained investment and tailored strategies. Nearshore work must integrate land-sea linkages, blending Clean Water Act measures, EPA collaboration, and fisheries regulations. A one-size-fits-all area target cannot address the governance complexity, shifting baselines, and cultural values embedded in coastal communities.
Community-Led Success Stories
Chesapeake Bay Oyster Restoration
In the 1970s, Chesapeake oyster populations collapsed to 3% of historical levels due to overharvesting, disease, and pollution. Local stakeholders—from Maryland governors and the DC mayor to NGOs and aquaculture growers—signed a memorandum of understanding to restore ten tributaries by 2025. Eight tributaries have already recovered, and the other two are on their way. Aquaculture farms play a crucial role by providing ecological services similar to natural reefs while preserving livelihoods.
Tampa Bay Seagrass Recovery
Florida’s free-for-all conservation climate makes environmental progress a steep uphill battle. In Tampa Bay, nutrient pollution from upstream agriculture and urban runoff devastated seagrass beds for decades. A community-driven estuary program launched long-term funding, rigorous monitoring, and adaptive management in the 1970s. By the early 2000s, seagrass coverage had rebounded significantly, benefiting fisheries, water quality, and manatees. Although recent declines underscore vulnerability, the project proves that sustained, locally supported initiatives can succeed even in challenging political terrain.
Key Recommendations for a Post 30x30 Framework
30x30 should be remembered not as an endpoint but as a milestone along a broader journey toward equitable, outcome-oriented ocean stewardship. The metric galvanized unprecedented global momentum, but its spotlight on area alone obscures deeper truths about justice, governance, and local agency. As conservation enters its post 30x30 era, success will depend on centering people, respecting Indigenous sovereignty, and investing in nearshore habitats that sustain communities and ecosystems alike. Villagomez’s own journey—from fishing in Saipan’s reefs before they were protected to shaping policy in Washington, DC—embodies that transition. By looking behind at our collective navigational past, we can chart a course toward a future where ocean conservation is as much about human rights and cultural values as it is about percent-covered charts. In the 2030s and beyond, let us aim to be as adept as Pacific navigators: using history, science, and community wisdom to guide every decision.
MPA expansion has often mirrored colonial legacies. Countries designate no-take zones in territories where political representation is limited and economic interests are minimal. In the lower forty-eight U.S. states, by contrast, MPAs are small, multi-use, and reflect compromise between commercial fishing and conservation. That disparity is intrinsically unfair and undermines both equity and effectiveness. Complicated jurisdictional overlaps further hamper success. Multiple federal and state agencies may claim authority over one nearshore bay, while Tribal communities face underfunded staffing and limited infrastructure to participate. Washington, DC decision-making can feel distant from island realities, leading to policies that neglect local priorities. Parachute conservation—outsiders imposing plans without context—repeats this pattern, perpetuating mistrust and implementation gaps.
Shining a Light on Nearshore Habitats
Large offshore MPAs struggle to capture nearshore habitats, even though those ecosystems punch well above their spatial footprint in biodiversity protection, storm buffering, pollution control, and carbon sequestration. Seagrass meadows store carbon at rates comparable to tropical forests. Kelp forests on the West Coast host one third of global kelp biomass despite covering a narrow coastal band. Coastal wetlands in the United States lose 80,000 acres to development every year.
Those habitats are under threat from diffuse, non-acute stressors—nutrient runoff, shoreline development, invasive species—that cross arbitrary MPA boundaries. They also often require restoration rather than preservation, demanding sustained investment and tailored strategies. Nearshore work must integrate land-sea linkages, blending Clean Water Act measures, EPA collaboration, and fisheries regulations. A one-size-fits-all area target cannot address the governance complexity, shifting baselines, and cultural values embedded in coastal communities.
Community-Led Success Stories
Chesapeake Bay Oyster Restoration
In the 1970s, Chesapeake oyster populations collapsed to 3% of historical levels due to overharvesting, disease, and pollution. Local stakeholders—from Maryland governors and the DC mayor to NGOs and aquaculture growers—signed a memorandum of understanding to restore ten tributaries by 2025. Eight tributaries have already recovered, and the other two are on their way. Aquaculture farms play a crucial role by providing ecological services similar to natural reefs while preserving livelihoods.
Tampa Bay Seagrass Recovery
Florida’s free-for-all conservation climate makes environmental progress a steep uphill battle. In Tampa Bay, nutrient pollution from upstream agriculture and urban runoff devastated seagrass beds for decades. A community-driven estuary program launched long-term funding, rigorous monitoring, and adaptive management in the 1970s. By the early 2000s, seagrass coverage had rebounded significantly, benefiting fisheries, water quality, and manatees. Although recent declines underscore vulnerability, the project proves that sustained, locally supported initiatives can succeed even in challenging political terrain.
Key Recommendations for a Post 30x30 Framework
- Redefine success beyond area metrics
- Establish biological, cultural, and socioeconomic performance indicators
- Tie designation to clear restoration or conservation targets, not just lines on maps
- Secure long-term funding, implementation, and monitoring
- Ensure resources for enforcement, community engagement, and adaptive management
- Mandate publicly accessible data on ecological outcomes
- Streamline governance and jurisdictional cooperation
- Facilitate interagency and tribal coordination in nearshore zones
- Develop multi-level governance frameworks that span land and sea
- Center Indigenous leadership and local knowledge
- Support capacity building and infrastructure in territories and tribal communities
- Recognize customary use areas as valid conservation measures
- Broaden the portfolio of conservation measures
- Incorporate Other Effective Conservation Measures (OECMs) with rigorous standards
- Engage fishers, aquaculture growers, and non-traditional stewards as partners
- Integrate land-sea policy tools
- Leverage the Clean Water Act and EPA programs for watershed management
- Align fisheries management with coastal restoration goals
- Mobilize “ocean voters” through strategic advocacy
- Elevate ocean health as an electoral issue alongside climate and public lands
- Harness the 40% of Americans living near coasts as a powerful constituency
30x30 should be remembered not as an endpoint but as a milestone along a broader journey toward equitable, outcome-oriented ocean stewardship. The metric galvanized unprecedented global momentum, but its spotlight on area alone obscures deeper truths about justice, governance, and local agency. As conservation enters its post 30x30 era, success will depend on centering people, respecting Indigenous sovereignty, and investing in nearshore habitats that sustain communities and ecosystems alike. Villagomez’s own journey—from fishing in Saipan’s reefs before they were protected to shaping policy in Washington, DC—embodies that transition. By looking behind at our collective navigational past, we can chart a course toward a future where ocean conservation is as much about human rights and cultural values as it is about percent-covered charts. In the 2030s and beyond, let us aim to be as adept as Pacific navigators: using history, science, and community wisdom to guide every decision.
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