COP 21: Paris Agreement won't address emissions from shipping

The European Union released a report last week claiming that the global shipping industry may account for 17 percent of global GHG emissions by 2050 (it already accounts for 2.4 percent).  If the industry were a country it would be the sixth largest polluter.  But because it isn't a country, and the industry as a whole lacks meaningful regulation, the Intended Nationally Determined Contributions (INDCS) countries are putting forth to validate their emissions cuts don't account for the shipping industry.  That responsibility falls to the International Maritime Organization, a UN body with regulatory authority but little capacity to impose new rules on the world's existing shipping fleet. 

The original draft of the Paris Agreement included some language that would address shipping emissions, but the latest draft has dimmed the prospect of regulating the notoriously elusive industry.  At best it might implore the IMO to create GHG emissions reductions targets.  Putting the industry on notice that its emissions will be a concern going forward is better than nothing, but certainly a disappointment to climate activists.  Ben Adler's take:

There are many ways in which regulations could bend the industry’s emissions curve downward. The most obvious would be stricter and more broadly applied fuel-efficiency standards. The IMO could also set speed limits, as ships emit less when moving slower. Alternative fuels could be researched and deployed. Also, ships use a lot of electricity for on-board operations, and that could be generated using sources other than oil, as cargo ships are big enough to support solar panels or even wind turbines.
The IMO, despite having commissioned a report that demonstrates the scope of the problem, has yet to take action. Critics suggest that bureaucratic inertia and coziness with the shipping industry could be to blame. So it may need a push.
Precisely because it is so central to economic activity, shipping is a touchy subject for the international community to tackle. As a small island nation, the Marshall Islands is as economically dependent on shipping as anyone. More so, in fact: 6.1 percent of the world’s ships (by tonnage) are registered in the Marshall Islands and provide a major source of its tax revenue. That’s why it’s afraid to act alone to regulate ships. If it were the only country to impose new rules on ships flying under its flag, the ships would just register elsewhere. But the Marshall Islands isn’t afraid to push for strong global rules that would be the same for ships registered in any country. Whatever risk to its economy that might pose, it pales in comparison to climate change.

The Lawlessness of Shipping Goes Mainstream

I've been fascinated by the shipping industry for a while now.  My father was in the merchant marines, and I grew up on the Mississippi River where barges still carry coal, grains, and other goods from Minneapolis to New Orleans.  It was Rose George's Ninety Percent of Everything that really piqued my interest in the lawlessness of the shipping industry.  Using her own journey aboard large container ships as a backdrop, George reveals the surprising truths about shipping: the lawlessness of the high seas, environmental damages, threats from piracy, appalling labor conditions, jurisdictional ambiguities, and suspect financing.   According to George, it's cheaper for Scottish fishermen to ship their fish to and from China to have them filleted than to have them filleted in Scotland.  There are also myriad legal angles to explore, including the difficulties of enforcing crimes on the high seas when no country wants to take jurisdiction of a case.  Almost as curious is how little play the shipping industry gets in mainstream discourse.

But Ian Urbina and his team at the NYT made waves this month when they published a brilliant piece on the topic.  Ian talks about how one repeat offender ship prompted his work:

I had what an author, Rose George, calls “sea blindness”: a myopia common among land dwellers who view the ocean as a brackish blotch over which cross-continental travelers need to fly to get where they are going. Rarely do shipwrecks, or acts of fatal violence at sea, make the evening news. Ms. George is right: If all the stories of boats meeting calamitous ends instead involved airplanes falling from the sky or coal miners getting trapped underground, “we would probably hear about it.”  The Dona Liberta cured me of my sea blindness.

The Dona Liberta works as a case study of the shipping industry as a whole:

As the rusty refrigerator ship moved across two oceans and five seas and among 20 ports, it routinely abused, cheated and abandoned its crew, caused an oil slick nearly 100 miles long, and drew citations from a half-dozen countries for other environmental violations. Creditors chased its owner for millions of dollars in unpaid debts, and maritime watchdog groups listed its parent company as an illegal fishing suspect. Still, the ship operated freely and never lacked for work or laborers.
When wrongdoing occurs, no single agency within a country or specific international organization typically has a sufficient stake in the matter to pursue it. The stowaways on the Dona Liberta, for example, were undocumented immigrants from Tanzania, living in South Africa and brought to shore in Liberia. The ship was owned by a Greek company incorporated in Liberia, crewed primarily by Filipinos, captained by an Italian, flagged to the Bahamas and passing through international waters. 

The NYT has follow-up on the lawlessness of the sea here, here, and here.  My thoughts on lawfare taking place in the South China Sea here.

Image: SkyTruth; NYT.

Image: SkyTruth; NYT.