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Years ago I was interviewed by a dogmatic pacifist (note to self: bad idea), who in his (grossly inaccurate) write-up said he thought I wanted all activists to think like assassins. That's not true. What I want is for us to think like members of a serious resistance movement.
What does that look like? Well, to start, it doesn't have to mean handling guns. Even when the IRA was at its strongest, only 2 percent of its members ever picked up weapons. The same is true for the Underground Railroad; Harriet Tubman and others carried guns, but Quakers and other pacifists who ran safe houses were also crucial to that work. What they all held in common was a commitment to their cause, and a willingness to work together in the resistance.
A serious resistance movement also means a commitment to winning, which means figuring out what "winning" means to you. For me, winning means living in a world with more wild salmon every year than the year before, more migratory songbirds, more amphibians, more large fish in the oceans, and for that matter oceans not being murdered. It means less dioxin in every mother's breast milk. It means living in a world where there are fewer dams each year than the year before. More native forests. More wild wetlands. It means living in a world not being ravaged by the industrial economy. And I'll do whatever it takes to get there (and if, by the way, you believe that "whatever it takes" is code language for violence, you're revealing nothing more than your own belief that nonviolence is ineffective).
That's fine, Derrick, but what do you want me to do?
Part of me wants to tell you to bring down the industrial infrastructure, the engine driving the destruction of the planet, converting so-called raw materials-read: living beings, biomes, and indeed the world-into products for sale. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want to suggest that, because I'm guessing you wouldn't do it anyway. And besides, I don't know you, and no one who doesn't know you should ever tell you what to do (and if they do, you shouldn't listen). In any case, ignoring what I have to say may not be such a bad idea, since what I really want is for people to think for themselves-not to bring down the industrial infrastructure because I tell them it's killing the world, but rather for them to deeply attend to our current crises and come to their own conclusions about what we must or must not do, what we must unmake and what we must make anew.
But, Derrick, what do you want me to do right now?
Okay, here's a list:
A lot of the indigenous people with whom I've worked have said to me that the first and most important thing any of us needs to do is decolonize our hearts and minds. Decolonization is the process of breaking your identity with and loyalty to this culture-industrial capitalism specifically, and more broadly civilization-and remembering your identification with and loyalty to the real physical world, including the land where you live. It means re-examining premises and stories this culture handed down to you. It means seeing the harm this culture does to other cultures, and to the planet. It means recognizing that we are living on stolen land. It means recognizing that the luxuries of this way of life do not come free, but rather are paid for by other humans, by nonhumans, by the whole world. It means recognizing that we do not live in a functioning democracy, but rather in a corporate plutocracy, a government by, for, and of corporations. Decolonization means recognizing that neither technological progress nor increased GNP is good for the planet. It means recognizing that this culture is not good for the planet. Decolonization means internalizing the implications of the fact that this culture is killing the planet. It means determining that we will stop this culture from doing that. It means determining that we will not fail.
And this is just the absolute beginning of decolonizing. It is internal work that doesn't accomplish anything in the real world, but it makes all further steps more likely, more feasible, and in many ways more strictly technical.
Next, ask yourself what are the largest, most pressing problems you can help to solve using the gifts that are unique to you in all the universe. People sometimes ask why I write instead of blowing up dams, to which I reply that my only D in college was in quantitative analysis chemistry lab, meaning you don't want me anywhere near explosives. Some people have said I should be an organizer instead of a writer. These people have never seen my work space; if I can't keep track of my pens, how would I possibly keep track of anything more complex? Likewise, I've filed dozens of timber sale appeals, but it was a very laborious process for me; it took me twelve hours to do what others could do in two. And I write terrible press releases. I can, however, write books. Harness your gifts, and put them in the service of your landbase.
My third suggestion is to ask yourself: what do I get off on? One reason I don't burn out as an activist is that I love what I'm doing. I was out one day with a wetlands specialist. We were trying to stop a developer from ruining a forest. The specialist dug into the soil, rubbed some between his fingers, and compared the color to a chart, which would help him determine if these were wetlands. I asked, "Do you get off on this?" He laughed and said digging in dirt was his second favorite thing to do after playing with his dogs. I laughed too and said I wouldn't like to do that work. I, on the other hand, have condemned myself to a life of homework: I get off on trying to figure out, for example, the relationship between perceived entitlement, exploitation, and atrocity.
My next suggestion is to make protecting the land where you live-and by extension the rest of the natural world, since protecting the land where you live will be insufficient to protect anadromous fish, migratory songbirds, or anyone in a world being burned alive by global climate change-the most important thing in your life. That may sound drastic, but we're talking about life on the planet here. There can be nothing more important than this.
So, Derrick, what exactly do you want us to do?
I want you to make the time to find what or whom you love-whether it's salmon, sturgeon, a patch of forest, survivors of domestic violence, your own indigenous tradition, migratory songbirds, coral reefs, or Appalachian mountaintops-and I want you to dig in and defend your beloved with your life, and, if necessary, with your death. I want for your actions to positively contribute to the health and defense of the planet. I want for you to figure out how to make it so the world-the real, physical world-is a better place because you were born, and because you lived here.
All of this leads to the point, which is, put simply, to do something. Several years ago I was giving a talk to several hundred people about bringing down civilization. The audience was excited. The atmosphere was like a rock concert. I suddenly stopped and asked, "How many of you have ever filed a timber-sale appeal?" Four or five. "How many have worked on a rape crisis hotline?" Ten women. "How many have done indigenous support work?" Three or four. And so on. It's all well and good to talk about the Great Glorious Revolution, but what are you doing right now?
The big dividing line is not and has never been between those who advocate more or less militant forms of resistance, or between mainstream and grassroots activists. The dividing line is between those who do something and those who do nothing.
Do something.
That's what I want you to do. That's what the anadromous fish and the Appalachian mountaintops want you to do too.
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Years ago I was interviewed by a dogmatic pacifist (note to self: bad idea), who in his (grossly inaccurate) write-up said he thought I wanted all activists to think like assassins. That's not true. What I want is for us to think like members of a serious resistance movement.
What does that look like? Well, to start, it doesn't have to mean handling guns. Even when the IRA was at its strongest, only 2 percent of its members ever picked up weapons. The same is true for the Underground Railroad; Harriet Tubman and others carried guns, but Quakers and other pacifists who ran safe houses were also crucial to that work. What they all held in common was a commitment to their cause, and a willingness to work together in the resistance.
A serious resistance movement also means a commitment to winning, which means figuring out what "winning" means to you. For me, winning means living in a world with more wild salmon every year than the year before, more migratory songbirds, more amphibians, more large fish in the oceans, and for that matter oceans not being murdered. It means less dioxin in every mother's breast milk. It means living in a world where there are fewer dams each year than the year before. More native forests. More wild wetlands. It means living in a world not being ravaged by the industrial economy. And I'll do whatever it takes to get there (and if, by the way, you believe that "whatever it takes" is code language for violence, you're revealing nothing more than your own belief that nonviolence is ineffective).
That's fine, Derrick, but what do you want me to do?
Part of me wants to tell you to bring down the industrial infrastructure, the engine driving the destruction of the planet, converting so-called raw materials-read: living beings, biomes, and indeed the world-into products for sale. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want to suggest that, because I'm guessing you wouldn't do it anyway. And besides, I don't know you, and no one who doesn't know you should ever tell you what to do (and if they do, you shouldn't listen). In any case, ignoring what I have to say may not be such a bad idea, since what I really want is for people to think for themselves-not to bring down the industrial infrastructure because I tell them it's killing the world, but rather for them to deeply attend to our current crises and come to their own conclusions about what we must or must not do, what we must unmake and what we must make anew.
But, Derrick, what do you want me to do right now?
Okay, here's a list:
A lot of the indigenous people with whom I've worked have said to me that the first and most important thing any of us needs to do is decolonize our hearts and minds. Decolonization is the process of breaking your identity with and loyalty to this culture-industrial capitalism specifically, and more broadly civilization-and remembering your identification with and loyalty to the real physical world, including the land where you live. It means re-examining premises and stories this culture handed down to you. It means seeing the harm this culture does to other cultures, and to the planet. It means recognizing that we are living on stolen land. It means recognizing that the luxuries of this way of life do not come free, but rather are paid for by other humans, by nonhumans, by the whole world. It means recognizing that we do not live in a functioning democracy, but rather in a corporate plutocracy, a government by, for, and of corporations. Decolonization means recognizing that neither technological progress nor increased GNP is good for the planet. It means recognizing that this culture is not good for the planet. Decolonization means internalizing the implications of the fact that this culture is killing the planet. It means determining that we will stop this culture from doing that. It means determining that we will not fail.
And this is just the absolute beginning of decolonizing. It is internal work that doesn't accomplish anything in the real world, but it makes all further steps more likely, more feasible, and in many ways more strictly technical.
Next, ask yourself what are the largest, most pressing problems you can help to solve using the gifts that are unique to you in all the universe. People sometimes ask why I write instead of blowing up dams, to which I reply that my only D in college was in quantitative analysis chemistry lab, meaning you don't want me anywhere near explosives. Some people have said I should be an organizer instead of a writer. These people have never seen my work space; if I can't keep track of my pens, how would I possibly keep track of anything more complex? Likewise, I've filed dozens of timber sale appeals, but it was a very laborious process for me; it took me twelve hours to do what others could do in two. And I write terrible press releases. I can, however, write books. Harness your gifts, and put them in the service of your landbase.
My third suggestion is to ask yourself: what do I get off on? One reason I don't burn out as an activist is that I love what I'm doing. I was out one day with a wetlands specialist. We were trying to stop a developer from ruining a forest. The specialist dug into the soil, rubbed some between his fingers, and compared the color to a chart, which would help him determine if these were wetlands. I asked, "Do you get off on this?" He laughed and said digging in dirt was his second favorite thing to do after playing with his dogs. I laughed too and said I wouldn't like to do that work. I, on the other hand, have condemned myself to a life of homework: I get off on trying to figure out, for example, the relationship between perceived entitlement, exploitation, and atrocity.
My next suggestion is to make protecting the land where you live-and by extension the rest of the natural world, since protecting the land where you live will be insufficient to protect anadromous fish, migratory songbirds, or anyone in a world being burned alive by global climate change-the most important thing in your life. That may sound drastic, but we're talking about life on the planet here. There can be nothing more important than this.
So, Derrick, what exactly do you want us to do?
I want you to make the time to find what or whom you love-whether it's salmon, sturgeon, a patch of forest, survivors of domestic violence, your own indigenous tradition, migratory songbirds, coral reefs, or Appalachian mountaintops-and I want you to dig in and defend your beloved with your life, and, if necessary, with your death. I want for your actions to positively contribute to the health and defense of the planet. I want for you to figure out how to make it so the world-the real, physical world-is a better place because you were born, and because you lived here.
All of this leads to the point, which is, put simply, to do something. Several years ago I was giving a talk to several hundred people about bringing down civilization. The audience was excited. The atmosphere was like a rock concert. I suddenly stopped and asked, "How many of you have ever filed a timber-sale appeal?" Four or five. "How many have worked on a rape crisis hotline?" Ten women. "How many have done indigenous support work?" Three or four. And so on. It's all well and good to talk about the Great Glorious Revolution, but what are you doing right now?
The big dividing line is not and has never been between those who advocate more or less militant forms of resistance, or between mainstream and grassroots activists. The dividing line is between those who do something and those who do nothing.
Do something.
That's what I want you to do. That's what the anadromous fish and the Appalachian mountaintops want you to do too.
Years ago I was interviewed by a dogmatic pacifist (note to self: bad idea), who in his (grossly inaccurate) write-up said he thought I wanted all activists to think like assassins. That's not true. What I want is for us to think like members of a serious resistance movement.
What does that look like? Well, to start, it doesn't have to mean handling guns. Even when the IRA was at its strongest, only 2 percent of its members ever picked up weapons. The same is true for the Underground Railroad; Harriet Tubman and others carried guns, but Quakers and other pacifists who ran safe houses were also crucial to that work. What they all held in common was a commitment to their cause, and a willingness to work together in the resistance.
A serious resistance movement also means a commitment to winning, which means figuring out what "winning" means to you. For me, winning means living in a world with more wild salmon every year than the year before, more migratory songbirds, more amphibians, more large fish in the oceans, and for that matter oceans not being murdered. It means less dioxin in every mother's breast milk. It means living in a world where there are fewer dams each year than the year before. More native forests. More wild wetlands. It means living in a world not being ravaged by the industrial economy. And I'll do whatever it takes to get there (and if, by the way, you believe that "whatever it takes" is code language for violence, you're revealing nothing more than your own belief that nonviolence is ineffective).
That's fine, Derrick, but what do you want me to do?
Part of me wants to tell you to bring down the industrial infrastructure, the engine driving the destruction of the planet, converting so-called raw materials-read: living beings, biomes, and indeed the world-into products for sale. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want to suggest that, because I'm guessing you wouldn't do it anyway. And besides, I don't know you, and no one who doesn't know you should ever tell you what to do (and if they do, you shouldn't listen). In any case, ignoring what I have to say may not be such a bad idea, since what I really want is for people to think for themselves-not to bring down the industrial infrastructure because I tell them it's killing the world, but rather for them to deeply attend to our current crises and come to their own conclusions about what we must or must not do, what we must unmake and what we must make anew.
But, Derrick, what do you want me to do right now?
Okay, here's a list:
A lot of the indigenous people with whom I've worked have said to me that the first and most important thing any of us needs to do is decolonize our hearts and minds. Decolonization is the process of breaking your identity with and loyalty to this culture-industrial capitalism specifically, and more broadly civilization-and remembering your identification with and loyalty to the real physical world, including the land where you live. It means re-examining premises and stories this culture handed down to you. It means seeing the harm this culture does to other cultures, and to the planet. It means recognizing that we are living on stolen land. It means recognizing that the luxuries of this way of life do not come free, but rather are paid for by other humans, by nonhumans, by the whole world. It means recognizing that we do not live in a functioning democracy, but rather in a corporate plutocracy, a government by, for, and of corporations. Decolonization means recognizing that neither technological progress nor increased GNP is good for the planet. It means recognizing that this culture is not good for the planet. Decolonization means internalizing the implications of the fact that this culture is killing the planet. It means determining that we will stop this culture from doing that. It means determining that we will not fail.
And this is just the absolute beginning of decolonizing. It is internal work that doesn't accomplish anything in the real world, but it makes all further steps more likely, more feasible, and in many ways more strictly technical.
Next, ask yourself what are the largest, most pressing problems you can help to solve using the gifts that are unique to you in all the universe. People sometimes ask why I write instead of blowing up dams, to which I reply that my only D in college was in quantitative analysis chemistry lab, meaning you don't want me anywhere near explosives. Some people have said I should be an organizer instead of a writer. These people have never seen my work space; if I can't keep track of my pens, how would I possibly keep track of anything more complex? Likewise, I've filed dozens of timber sale appeals, but it was a very laborious process for me; it took me twelve hours to do what others could do in two. And I write terrible press releases. I can, however, write books. Harness your gifts, and put them in the service of your landbase.
My third suggestion is to ask yourself: what do I get off on? One reason I don't burn out as an activist is that I love what I'm doing. I was out one day with a wetlands specialist. We were trying to stop a developer from ruining a forest. The specialist dug into the soil, rubbed some between his fingers, and compared the color to a chart, which would help him determine if these were wetlands. I asked, "Do you get off on this?" He laughed and said digging in dirt was his second favorite thing to do after playing with his dogs. I laughed too and said I wouldn't like to do that work. I, on the other hand, have condemned myself to a life of homework: I get off on trying to figure out, for example, the relationship between perceived entitlement, exploitation, and atrocity.
My next suggestion is to make protecting the land where you live-and by extension the rest of the natural world, since protecting the land where you live will be insufficient to protect anadromous fish, migratory songbirds, or anyone in a world being burned alive by global climate change-the most important thing in your life. That may sound drastic, but we're talking about life on the planet here. There can be nothing more important than this.
So, Derrick, what exactly do you want us to do?
I want you to make the time to find what or whom you love-whether it's salmon, sturgeon, a patch of forest, survivors of domestic violence, your own indigenous tradition, migratory songbirds, coral reefs, or Appalachian mountaintops-and I want you to dig in and defend your beloved with your life, and, if necessary, with your death. I want for your actions to positively contribute to the health and defense of the planet. I want for you to figure out how to make it so the world-the real, physical world-is a better place because you were born, and because you lived here.
All of this leads to the point, which is, put simply, to do something. Several years ago I was giving a talk to several hundred people about bringing down civilization. The audience was excited. The atmosphere was like a rock concert. I suddenly stopped and asked, "How many of you have ever filed a timber-sale appeal?" Four or five. "How many have worked on a rape crisis hotline?" Ten women. "How many have done indigenous support work?" Three or four. And so on. It's all well and good to talk about the Great Glorious Revolution, but what are you doing right now?
The big dividing line is not and has never been between those who advocate more or less militant forms of resistance, or between mainstream and grassroots activists. The dividing line is between those who do something and those who do nothing.
Do something.
That's what I want you to do. That's what the anadromous fish and the Appalachian mountaintops want you to do too.
"The interception occurred in international waters outside Palestinian territorial waters off Gaza, in violation of international maritime law," the Freedom Flotilla Coalition said.
The Israeli military intercepted and seized the Gaza Freedom Flotilla vessel The Handala late Saturday night local time as it attempted to deliver desperately needed humanitarian aid to the besieged people of Gaza.
The Freedom Flotilla Coalition reported that Israeli forces cut the cameras on board the ship at 11:43 pm local time, when it was around 40 nautical miles from Gaza.
"The unarmed boat was carrying lifesaving supplies when it was boarded by Israeli forces, its passengers abducted, and its cargo seized," the coalition wrote. "The interception occurred in international waters outside Palestinian territorial waters off Gaza, in violation of international maritime law."
Israel's Foreign Ministry confirmed that its navy had intercepted the ship, as Al Jazeera reported.
"The vessel is safely making its way to the shores of Israel," the ministry said in a statement. "All passengers are safe."
"Our vessel does not constitute any threat to you. We carry only humanitarian aid, and therefore, you have no authority to intercept or otherwise attack our vessel."
The Handala set sail for Gaza on July 20 from Gallipoli, Italy. It is the second attempt by the Freedom Flotilla Coalition to break the siege on Gaza in under two months. An earlier attempt in June was also intercepted by the Israeli military and its crew members arrested and deported.
There are 21 crew members onboard The Handala from 12 countries: 19 human rights defenders and two journalists. The crew includes seven U.S. citizens, among them labor leader Christian Smalls.
The crew had promised to begin a hunger strike as soon as they were intercepted by the Israeli military.
"In captivity they can give their sandwiches and water to the starving people of Gaza," Smalls wrote on social media.
Another U.S. crew member, the Palestinian-American lawyer and activist Huwaida Arraf, rebuked the Israeli Navy as they boarded the ship, according to a video obtained by Al Jazeera:
"Let me give you a lesson in international law," Arraf said, adding:
Any blockade that deliberately starves a civilian population is a violation of international law. It is not only that—it is a war crime. You have no legal authority to enforce an unlawful blockade. And as such, you have no authority to use force to enforce an unlawful blockade.
Therefore, we demand that you stand down. You are responsible for the well-being of every civilian on board this vessel. As an occupying power in Gaza, you are responsible for the health and well-being of the civilian population there.
Not only have you disregarded that obligation, but you are actively exterminating the people. You have engineered a famine. You are deliberately starving civilians and children before the eyes of the world.
Our vessel does not constitute any threat to you. We carry only humanitarian aid, and therefore, you have no authority to intercept or otherwise attack our vessel. We demand again that you stand down.
The Handala's interception came at the close of a day that saw 71 people killed in Gaza due to Israeli attacks and five perish from hunger. This brings the total number of deaths from starvation in Gaza to over 127, among them more than 85 children. After 658 days of a U.S.-backed Israeli siege, more than 85% of Palestinians in Gaza are now in the most dangerous Stage 5 of the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification to measure famine. One five-month-old child who died on Friday due to lack of baby formula weighed less at death than she did at birth, as The Associated Press reported. A growing number of human rights experts and advocates have characterized Israel's war and siege on Gaza as a genocide.
The ship was carrying diapers, baby formula, food, and medicine.
According to the Gaza Freedom Flotilla Coalition, Saturday's interception was the "third violent act by Israeli forces against Freedom Flotilla missions this year alone."
"It follows the drone bombing of the civilian aid ship Conscience in European waters in May, which injured four people and disabled the vessel, and the illegal seizure of The Madleen in June, where Israeli forces abducted 12 civilians, including a member of the European Parliament," the group wrote.
Ann Wright, a member of the Gaza Freedom Flotilla Coalition steering committee, called on the governments of the 21 crew members to advocate for their citizens.
"Protect innocent international people who are merely accompanying a small amount of aid—medical and food—as a symbol of the international outrage at what Israel is doing," she told Al Jazeera.
"There is still a chance to stop this industry before it begins, but only if governments stand up for science, equity, and precaution now," one campaigner said.
Despite growing momentum, world governments failed to agree to a moratorium on deep-sea mining as the 30th session of the International Seabed Authority wrapped up on Friday.
The authority's July meeting was the first since U.S. President Donald Trump signed an executive order to expedite permits for deep-sea mining under U.S. authority and The Metals Company (TMC) promptly applied for U.S. permits. Governments rebuked the U.S. and TMC for their unilateral approach and did not agree on a mining code that would allow the controversial practice to move forward under international law. However, campaigners said more decisive action is needed to protect the ocean and its biodiversity.
"Governments have yet to rise to the moment," Greenpeace International campaigner Louisa Casson said in a statement. "They remain disconnected from global concerns and the pressing need for courageous leadership to protect the deep ocean."
Casson continued: "We call on the international community to rise up and defend multilateralism against rogue actors like The Metals Company. Governments must respond by establishing a moratorium and reaffirming that authority over the international seabed lies collectively with all states—for the benefit of humanity as a whole."
The International Seabed Authority (ISA) gains its authority to regulate deep-sea mining under the United Nations Law of the Sea, to which the U.S. is not party. TMC, however, could suffer consequences for bypassing the international process, as other countries and companies may decide not to do business with it.
At the most recent session, the ISA's council decided not to revoke exploratory permits it had previously granted to TMC and its subsidiaries. However, it approved an investigation on Monday into whether mining contractors such as TMC subsidiaries Nauru Ocean Resources Inc. and Tonga Offshore Mining Limited were abiding by their obligations under international law.
"TMC has been testing the limits of what it can get away with, a bit like a child seeing how far it can go with bad behavior," Matthew Gianni, cofounder of the Deep Sea Conservation Coalition (DSCC), told The New York Times.
"The member countries of the ISA have basically sent a shot across the bow, a warning to TMC that going rogue may well result in the loss of its ISA exploration claims," Gianna explained, adding that the investigation also served as a warning to other companies who might consider following TMC's example.
"The Trump administration's pursuit of deep-sea mining isn't about global stewardship—it's about sidestepping it."
Casson agreed: "The international community's message to The Metals Company is clear: Violating international law, ignoring scientific consensus, and disregarding human rights will have consequences. This is also a warning to any companies or governments choosing to align themselves with [TMC CEO] Gerard Barron's business model—they must be prepared to bear the reputational fallout of trying to destroy the ocean."
At the same time, a U.S. representative spoke on Thursday, doubling down on Trump's dismissal of the international process and earning instant push back from Brazil, France, and China
"As a non-party to the Law of the Sea Convention, the United States is not bound by the convention rules dealing with seabed mining through the International Seabed Authority," the U.S. statement said in part.
The statement came days after Greenpeace released a report titled Deep Deception: How the Deep-Sea Mining Industry is Manipulating Geopolitics to Profit from Ocean Destruction, which details how TMC and other deep-sea mining companies are exploiting national security concerns to lobby U.S. lawmakers to fast track deep-sea mining.
"The U.S. statement confirms what Deep Deception has already exposed: The Trump administration's pursuit of deep-sea mining isn't about global stewardship—it's about sidestepping it," Arlo Hemphill, Greenpeace USA's project lead for the Stop Deep-Sea Mining campaign, said in a statement. "By rejecting the ISA's authority while claiming environmental responsibility, the U.S. is trying to have it both ways—and in doing so is advancing a 'smash and grab' agenda that puts ocean health and international cooperation at serious risk."
Ultimately, ocean advocates agree that the only way to protect the deep sea is for governments to agree to a precautionary pause on a practice they argue would do irreparable harm to ecosystems science barely understands.
The consensus for such a pause is building, with Croatia becoming the 38th nation to support one during the latest ISA meeting.
"The ISA is paralyzed by a small group clinging to outdated extraction agendas while blocking even the most basic reforms," Simon Holmström, the deep-sea mining policy officer for Seas at Risk, said in a statement. "The firm rejection of the U.S. and The Metals Company's power grab, alongside 38 countries now calling for a moratorium or precautionary pause, shows growing resistance to sacrificing the planet's least understood ecosystem for corporate short-term profit."
"To even consider a new form of ecocide on our already ailing planet is both reckless and irrational."
Several nations spoke strongly in favor a moratorium, including Palau, Panama, and France.
"Exploiting the seabed is not a necessity—it is a choice," said His Excellency Surangel S. Whipps Jr., president of the Republic of Palau, on Tuesday. "And it is reckless. It is gambling with the future of Pacific Island children, who will inherit the dire consequences of decisions made far from their shores."
A Pacific leader from Solomon Island also defended the interests of the Pacific Ocean community: "As Pacific people, we continue to carry the trauma of what extractive industries have already done to our homes. Mining companies that came with promises, stripped our lands and waters, and left behind ecological, cultural, and spiritual scars. We cannot let that cycle repeat itself, in the ocean that connects us. That sustains us. And that defines us."
Olivier Poivre d'Arvor of France called for a pause of 10-15 years: "Our message is clear: no deep-sea mining without science, without collective legitimacy, without equity [...] France is calling for a moratorium or a precautionary pause. What for? Because we refuse to mortgage the future for a few nodules extracted in a hurry, in favor of a few."
However, campaigners argued that many governments continued to fall short of the commitments they had made at the U.N. Ocean Conference (UNOC) in Nice in early June.
"Thirty-eight states have now joined the call for a moratorium or precautionary pause, with Croatia joining the coalition during this Assembly," said DSCC campaign director Sofia Tsenikli. "But too many other states, which were bold in their ocean promises at UNOC, are not putting this into action at the ISA. Governments must meet their promises by doing what it takes to implement a moratorium before it's too late."
Farah Obaidullah, founder and director of The Ocean and Us, argued that the ocean already faces too many other threats to add the additional burden of deep-sea mining.
"The health of the high seas including the seabed is critical to our own. Yet our shared heritage faces an onslaught of threats from climate and nature collapse, escalating tensions, and failed leadership," Obaidullah said. "To even consider a new form of ecocide on our already ailing planet is both reckless and irrational. We know that deep-sea mining will devastate life in the deep ocean, wipe out species before they have been discovered, and impact ocean functions, including carbon sequestration. When it comes to the ocean we have no time to lose. We cannot colonize and conquer our shared heritage which belongs to us all. There is only one responsible way forward, and that is to secure a moratorium on deep-sea mining."
DSCC's Gianni also argued strongly for a pause: "Being on the fence or remaining silent is not a politically defensible position. We are risking severe ecological damage, and future generations will ask what we did to stop it. There is still a chance to stop this industry before it begins, but only if governments stand up for science, equity, and precaution now, and take action to prevent companies within their jurisdiction from cooperating with rogue mining operations."
Greenpeace's Hemphill concluded: "Governments must secure a moratorium that leaves no room for a desperate industry to force through a mining code. The science is not ready. The legal framework is not in place. The world must not be bullied into an irreversible mistake for the benefit of a few."
The ruling from U.S. District Judge Leo Sorokin of Massachusetts found an exception to the Supreme Court's recent limit on nationwide injunctions.
For the third time since the U.S. Supreme Court used the case to limit nationwide injunctions in June, a court has blocked U.S. President Donald Trump's executive order ending birthright citizenship from going into effect.
U.S. District Judge Leo Sorokin of Massachusetts ruled on Friday that a nationwide injunction he had granted to over 12 states still applied under an exception laid out in the Supreme Court decision.
"We are thrilled that the district court again barred President Trump's flagrantly unconstitutional birthright citizenship order from taking effect anywhere," New Jersey Attorney General Matthew J. Platkin, whose state took the lead on bringing the case, said in a statement.
Trump issued an executive order in January ending birthright citizenship for children born to parents with no legal status, a move widely decried as unconstitutional. Several lawsuits followed, resulting in a nationwide injunction blocking the order from taking effect.
"American-born babies are American, just as they have been at every other time in our Nation's history."
In June, the Supreme Court weighed in by limiting the ability of lower courts to issue nationwide injunctions, but declining to comment on the constitutionality of the order itself. However, the nation's highest court did say that states could receive nationwide injunctions if it was the only way to offer full relief, which Sorokin determined Friday was indeed the case.
The states had argued that the birthright order, in addition to being unconstitutional, would put millions of dollars for citizenship-dependent health insurance assistance at risk, according to The Associated Press. Sorokin determined anything less than a nationwide ban would not provide full relief to the states, given that people often move across state lines.
"The record does not support a finding that any narrower option would feasibly and adequately protect the plaintiffs from the injuries they have shown they are likely to suffer if the unlawful policy announced in the Executive Order takes effect during the pendency of this lawsuit," Sorokin wrote in his decision.
His ruling followed two others blocking the order since the Supreme Court decision: A July 10 ruling from a federal New Hampshire judge establishing a nationwide class in a new class-action lawsuit, and a determination from a federal appeals court in San Francisco on Wednesday that the order was unconstitutional and the block could stay in effect to offer states relief.
In his decision Friday, Sorokin said the Trump administration was "entitled to pursue their interpretation of the 14th Amendment, and no doubt the Supreme Court will ultimately settle the question," adding, "But in the meantime, for purposes of this lawsuit at this juncture, the Executive Order is unconstitutional."
In response, White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson told Newsweek, "These courts are misinterpreting the purpose and the text of the 14th Amendment," adding, "We look forward to being vindicated on appeal."
Patkin, however, celebrated the ruling: "The district court's decision, consistent with the Supreme Court's own instructions, recognizes that this illegal action cannot take effect anywhere without harming New Jersey and the other states who joined in these challenges. American-born babies are American, just as they have been at every other time in our Nation's history. The president cannot change that legal rule with the stroke of a pen."