The Netflix documentary Seaspiracy about the industrial fishing industry has left the nature community in turmoil. (Not least with regards to its name – a missed opportunity to name it Conspirasea, many viewers mourn). Sifting through all the takes on the film can feel overwhelming to say the least, so we’re here to offer a comprehensive environmentalist’s take.
TL;DR
Watch with caution and foreknowledge of what to expect. Despite covering critical topics, Seaspiracy bungles crucial aspects of an environmental film, namely scientific accuracy and cultural sensitivity. Ultimately, in his search for the singular villain behind ocean destruction, filmmaker Ali Tabrizi’s perspective is shown to be lacking in nuance. Complicated historical, cultural, and social realities that should be considered in ocean conservation are disregarded. Instead, they are distilled down to the all-encompassing command of “Go vegan.”
The film’s opening frames immediately establish a suspenseful atmosphere, with ominous background music and fast-changing stills. You might consider this a draw – a means of hooking viewers, surely? On the contrary, it foreshadows the black-or-white attitude that Tabrizi will take towards ocean conservation. Each stakeholder becomes either good or evil, a hero or a villain, with no in-betweens.
The consequences? Potentially detrimental. Seaspiracy is reaching an unusually wide audience for a documentary, many of whom don’t consider themselves environmentalists. This makes the toxicity of the film’s message particularly concerning – it is a blanket call to ban fishing. It pulls on viewers’ heartstrings versus appealing to their logical side. It is, in effect, one massive generalization.
The film has been criticised for its gross scientific oversimplifications.
"If current fishing trends continue, we will see empty oceans by the year 2048," Tabrizi claims. In fact, this claim comes from a study whose lead author himself doubts the accuracy of the statistic today. “Most of the data in [the paper] is almost 20 years old," Professor Boris Worm concedes. Fellow fisheries scientists have similarly taken issue: Worm’s study was an "unrealistic extrapolation way beyond the bounds of available data” in the first place, one fisheries expert dismisses.
The film also states that 46% of plastic in the ocean comes from fishing nets. Well, according to the forecast’s source, much of the plastic that enters the ocean sinks. Fishing nets comprise 46% of the mass of plastic that doesn’t sink. In citing this overexaggerated figure, Tabrizi detracts from other causes of ocean degradation, notably climate change. Instead, he focuses single-mindedly on industrial fishing and pollution caused by discarded fishing equipment.
These are just some examples of Tabrizi inflating statistics to force through Seaspiracy’s hero-villain dichotomy.
The film has been rebuked by the very NGOs and scientists it features.
Seaspiracy prioritizes cinematic value over objective facts, coming to overstretched and illogical conclusions with insufficient evidence beyond mere speculation. The ramifications of this have become clear in the sound rebuttals the film’s received. The Plastic Pollution Coalition released a statement clarifying that they were not, as Tabrizi had concluded, “funded by Earth Island Institute.”
The MSC, whose credibility also came under fire, rebutted that “the known problems that the film highlights – bycatch, overfishing and destruction of marine ecosystems – are precisely the issues the MSC certification process is designed to address." Notably, Tabrizi did not ever manage to interview the MSC – they declined to comment.
Another interviewee for the film tweeted: “Unnerving to discover your cameo in a film slamming an industry you love and have committed your career to.” The director of the International Marine Mammal Project sums up the situation: “In entrapping interviewees with leading questions and getting lost in a sea of murky conspiratorial thinking, Seaspiracy does a disservice to a number of organizations that are doing critical work to protect oceans.”
Cultural insensitivity
There was a notable lack of diversity in the perspectives represented in Seaspiracy. Where were the local, regional, and community voices, or those who actually live with the ocean? Hakai Magazine lists a few such overlooked stories of resilience: “Communities of Marshall Islanders in Oklahoma that maintain their connection to the sea. Female, transgender, and nonbinary fishers who are connecting and supporting one another in Alaska. Coastal communities in British Columbia and Alaska building resilience by sharing seafood.” If more of these fisherfolk had been highlighted, perhaps the film’s overarching message would have been one of greater inclusivity.
A film that does not put BIPOC perspectives front and centre is naturally vulnerable to insensitivity. Case in point: when describing commercial whale hunting, Tabrizi only highlights Japan’s involvement, despite the fact that Norway now slaughters more whales. Such a decision – especially during a period of heightened anti-Asian sentiment – is “just poor taste”, one reviewer concludes.
The film’s call to action: Stop eating fish?
If only it were that simple. The ocean supports more than just privileged diners who have the means to remove seafood completely from their diet. Oceana corroborates: Abstaining from consuming seafood, while an eco-friendly choice if you can afford to make it, “is not realistic for the hundreds of millions of people around the world who depend on coastal fisheries – many of whom are also facing poverty, hunger and malnutrition.”
Here are some concrete figures to chew on: Over 3 billion people obtain 20% of their protein from the ocean. The fisheries and aquaculture industries directly employ 60 million people. Fish is an essential element of many cultures. Rather than an outright industry ban, what we need is reform – and sustainable fishing has a vital role to play, contrary to the film’s claims.
Along similar lines of non-inclusivity, Seaspiracy depicts the relationship between mankind and the ocean as a battle – with zero exceptions. “We are at war with the oceans. And if we win this war, we’re gonna lose it all,” one interviewee says. The importance of our separation from the sea is then emphasised. “Leave the ocean alone,” another interviewee sighs bluntly.
What does this bode for those who have lived harmoniously with the ocean for centuries, harvesting its resources in moderation via ethical, replenishing cycles? Make no mistake: the film conflates these small-scale fishers with big industry. It is the industry that should leave the ocean alone. Indeed, conservationists should be collaborating and protecting local sea-dwelling communities. Such is the logic behind a just transition – ensuring that the transition from an extractive to regenerative society leaves no one behind.
Fundamentally, for all its heavily dramatised efforts to discover the culprit behind ocean destruction, Seaspiracy still doesn’t quite manage the task. Indeed, with the repetition of “we”, the blame is ultimately pinned on the consumer, the individual – rather than the broader systems and institutions which underpin their actions. Such is the reasoning behind the closing go vegan spiel and the demand for individual diet changes.
Seaspiracy proves itself to be oblivious of the need for systems change rather than individual change – in a manner that is frankly stunning in its illogicality, given the film's multiple indictments of the fishing industry in the leadup to the ending. In the process, the film also risks eroding viewers’ trust in the work of ocean protection behemoths and entire scientific fields. As the screen fades to black, viewers are left to grapple with the question of who they can trust – less than ideal in an era when ocean optimism is so desperately needed.
See this Forbes review for a slightly different take on the film, and a closer look at its relationship to cancel culture.