Spring Check-In: Deep Seas, Big Waves, and a Few Curveballs

Remember blogging?  I'm trying to blog more.  If you're one of the handful of people who read this blog, maybe you've noticed an uptick in my writing here?  I started my first blog in 2004. It was mostly about my life and as I developed a voice it eventually evolved into The Saipan Blog.  The kids today are really into the 1990s.  So it's only a matter of time until they're into the 2000s again, too, right?  In the spirit of self-absorbed blogging from the mid-2000s these are a few of the things I've been up to in recent weeks.

Deep-Sea mining is keeping me busy.  A year ago I wouldn't have said I worked on deep-sea mining. But thanks to the Trump administration, I’ve been writing about it, talking about it, and occasionally yelling about it (in a professional, policy friendly way).  I recently published a piece at the Center for American Progress on why Alaska and U.S. territories often get damage instead of dollars when it comes to extractive industries.  While many promises have been made regarding the economic promise of deep sea mining, the more you learn, the more you realize how uneven the benefits and burdens can be. Spoiler alert: the communities closest to the ocean are not the ones cashing the biggest checks.

I also had the chance to share some of these ideas at a Society for Conservation Biology symposium in April.  Public speaking is always a mix of mild terror and debilitating anxiety for me, but this was a great audience of scientists from around the world.  And apparently I’ve been saying and writing enough things that reporters have started quoting me on this topic, even if I am a newb. I was included in this Mongabay story about federal plans to auction seabed mining leases.  I recognize that I'm the guy that left the islands 16 years ago and I try to get across that I don't speak on behalf of the islands when I speak to media -- and I always connect reporters to people living in the islands.  But I’m glad the issue is getting attention—because it needs it.

Deep sea mining isn't the only thing threating the health of island communities.  In June, the Trump administration directed the government to open three marine monuments in the Pacific to industrial fishing -- following previous actions to open two others.  This didn't come out of nowhere.  Fishing interests have been attempting to roll back these marine protected areas since they were first designated.  I continue to work with the Friends of the Mariana Trench to communicate these federal actions to communities in Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands.  And I provide policy analysis to the rest of country by pointing out that waters once reserved for scientists and Indigenous peoples will now be opened to wealthy American fishermen.  I was even quoted in USA Today -- a first for me.

I also get to push back on Trump administration attempts to whitewash the history told by our public lands and waters.  On Cinco de Mayo I joined a press conference hosted by Green Latinos about attempts to do this to Hispanic communities.  And for Juneteenth, CAP made a video based on an essay I co-wrote back in February on how Black history is being intentionally erased from public lands and waters.  That piece has continued to circulate on social media, and is the most viewed webpage for CAP's Energy and Environment team this year.  I like to think it's because it’s resonating with Americans and also that these concerns are very real for a lot of people.

For me it’s a reminder that conservation isn’t just about protecting nature and providing recreation areas—it’s also about connecting the American people with the true stories of the people who came before us.  This has been an area of academic growth for me and I've really enjoyed pretending to be an amateur public historian.  We are working on a new piece that we hope to publish this month that explores the scope and the scale of the Trump administration's erasure of public history.

None of this is the direction we want to be heading.  But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my decades doing this, it’s that conservation is a long game.  I've been advocating for the Mariana Trench since George W. Bush was president.  My father was doing the same when Gerald Ford was president. You celebrate the wins, you absorb the losses, and then you get back to work.  And you remind people that political problems have political solutions and that you need to vote.

But my work is not just being reactive to all the terrible things the Trump administration is doing to our country.  One of the highlights of the past few months was helping to organize Upwell: A Wave of Ocean Justice. For the fourth year, Center for American Progress helped out on the organizing committee.  My colleague Kat So was the first ever Upwell Conference Chair, and I organized three panels and managed the Policy Track on the first day of the conference, emceed the main conference on the second day, and played a role in nominating the keynote speaker Sabrina Suluai-Mahuka and the Artist-in-Residence Gillian Duenas.  Afterward, I interviewed 43 members of the America the Beautiful for All coalition and wrote about some of the lessons learned during the conference.

The big takeaway: conservation isn’t just about science or policy—it’s about belonging, power, and purpose. If people don’t see themselves in the work, the work doesn’t last.  Also, organizing conferences means you get very good at solving problems like “why isn't the livestream working?” and “did Angelo really just delete the video of the deep sea mining panel?”  (yes, yes, he did)

I also published an article that articulates a new marquee pledge B.E.A.C.H. 35—an effort to envision the next era of American ocean conservation.  B.E.A.C.H. 35 is an extension of my previous writings on Beyond 30x30 (basically, that area targets only get us so far -- and create incentives for countries to focus ocean conservation on oversea territories) and Nearshore Ocean Progress (special ocean places across the United States are high in biodiversity and need better protection).  I worked with colleagues at the America the Beautiful for All coalition on this call to protect ocean and Great Lakes ecosystems across all 35 coastal and lake-bordering states and territories.  It’s ambitious, maybe a little audacious, but that’s the scale of thinking we need to bring ocean conservation into the 2030s.

And this all happened over a six week stretch where I took five trips -- a kelp conference in California, a niece's senior thesis presentation in New Hampshire, a graduation in Massachusetts, a wedding in North Carolina, and a history conference in West Virginia.  I now look forward to being at home for a stretch and catching up on emails and reading.

If you’ve read this far, thanks for following along. If you’ve worked with me recently, thanks for being part of it. And if you’re new here—welcome, and I promise not every blog post is a laundry list of my essays.