Why the High Seas Treaty matters
For decades, the high seas were governed by a comfortable illusion: that “freedom of the seas” was a neutral principle rather than a license for whoever had the ships, the satellites, and the patience for paperwork.
That illusion has finally been interrupted. On Jan. 17, 2026, the High Seas Treaty—the United Nations Agreement on Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ)—entered into force, 120 days after the 60th ratification threshold was met on Sept. 19, 2025. What used to be an environmental aspiration has become binding law for its parties.
The scale is hard to overstate. Waters beyond national jurisdiction cover roughly half the planet and about two-thirds of the ocean. Yet protection has been microscopic: reports commonly put effective protection of the high seas at under 1 percent, even as human activity expands outward—industrial fishing, shipping, plastic pollution, and the looming prospect of deep-sea mining. Globally, only about 8 percent of the ocean is protected, far short of the political slogan that now functions as a deadline—”30 by 30,” protecting 30 percent of oceans by 2030.
What the treaty does is not romantic; it is administrative, which is why it matters. It creates a legal pathway to designate marine protected areas on the high seas, requires environmental impact assessments (EIAs) for potentially harmful activities, and sets rules for marine genetic resources—the biochemical “code library” of the ocean increasingly valuable to pharmaceuticals and biotechnology—so benefits are not monopolized by those with advanced labs and patents.
But the treaty arrives in a world where enforcement is the missing verb. BBNJ has no navy. Compliance will depend on what states do to their own fleets and companies, and on whether existing bodies—regional fisheries management organizations, shipping regulators, and others—actually coordinate rather than defend turf.
Then comes the complication that most explains why ocean governance is never just about fish: deep-sea mining.
The treaty’s critics and champions agree on one point: BBNJ does not directly regulate seabed mining in “the area” (the seabed beyond national jurisdiction). That domain belongs to the International Seabed Authority (ISA) under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, where the long-delayed “mining code” is still under negotiation. This division of labor creates a legal seam—and seams are where pressure finds leverage.
A growing number of states and scientists call for a moratorium or precautionary pause on deep-sea mining, arguing that environmental baselines are thin and harms may be irreversible. At the same time, industry and some governments—facing demand for nickel, cobalt, manganese and other inputs for electrification—push for licensing. The tension has sharpened because, in parallel, the United States has flirted with fast-tracking deep-sea mining outside the UN-led ISA process, a move that would test how seriously great powers treat multilateral rules when strategic minerals are involved.
Which brings us to the treaty’s geopolitical moment: it took effect as Washington’s relationship with multilateralism visibly frays. This month, the White House issued actions to withdraw the US from multiple international bodies and even announced a withdrawal from the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change—a Senate-ratified treaty—triggering legal controversy. In such a climate, the key question is not who signed the High Seas Treaty, but who stays in the room long enough to implement it.
For the Philippines, the stakes are not theoretical. We are an archipelago downstream from decisions made offshore: fish migrate, currents carry pollution, and climate impacts amplify across basins. Yet we are also, increasingly, an energy state—at least in aspiration. President Marcos has leaned into offshore energy security, from awarding new petroleum service contracts to a newly announced natural gas discovery near Malampaya, touted as the first in more than a decade.
That domestic push meets an international reality: ocean law is moving toward higher environmental due diligence, not lower. The High Seas Treaty makes EIAs and protection standards harder to treat as optional “green language.” Done well, BBNJ can strengthen the Philippines’ hand—scientifically, diplomatically, and normatively—by embedding precaution and transparency into global ocean governance that will shape fisheries, shipping, and the environmental expectations around offshore activity.
But “done well” is the entire problem. The treaty is now in force. The race is no longer to ratify. It is to govern—before the ocean becomes yet another jurisdiction where law arrives only after the damage is irreversible.
—————-
Noel B. Lazaro is general counsel of a publicly listed firm, a two-time Asian Legal Business In-House Counsel of the Year finalist, and a Top Tier In-House Counsel awardee of the In-House Community. He is also a law professor and columnist.
