The Only Flag Worth Flying
- Paul Watson
- il y a 6 jours
- 4 min de lecture
By Captain Paul Watson
What this planet needs right now are more swashbuckling eco-pirates.
Why? Because pirates get things done. They cut through bureaucratic red tape, ignore political posturing, and focus on the target—no excuses, no delays.
It has been my privilege to collaborate with Sarah Levy, whose master’s thesis on direct action and the enforcement of international marine conservation law has evolved into The Only Flag Worth Flying, an exceptional and urgently needed book.
On January 17, 2026, the High Seas Treaty on Protecting Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction became international law, ratified by 83 nations. But what does it mean beyond being another piece of paper with hollow promises?
Without enforcement, it is just a piece of paper—one that allows signatory nations to appear virtuous while doing nothing to defend the ocean. None of them are deploying ships to uphold the very laws they championed. Worse, some of the worst offenders—the United States, Russia, the United Kingdom, India, and Japan—refused to sign or ratify the treaty at all.
Among those who did sign, major powers like China, the European Union, Canada, and Brazil now face a test: Will they act, or will they continue to prioritize exploitation over protection?
Japan persists in illegal whaling. The U.S. demands unrestricted access to mine the seabed for minerals. And history suggests that even the signatories will do little more than issue token condemnations when violations occur.
This is where Sarah Levy’s book makes its most critical argument: if enforcement exists at all, it comes from non-governmental organizations and individuals willing to challenge illegal activities on the high seas.
The Only Flag Worth Flying is structured in three parts:
Soundings – Charting the historical and legal foundations of marine conservation.
Currents – Exploring the force and necessity of direct action.
Horizons – Navigating the future of ocean governance beyond the state.
Levy’s work exposes the impotence of international conservation law and the urgent need for NGOs to step in where governments refuse to act. Drawing on ecocentric legal theory, political critique, and real-world campaign case studies, she challenges the assumption that enforcement is the sole domain of nation-states. Instead, she argues that legitimacy can come from courage—the courage to uphold laws that institutions have abandoned.
When legality becomes an illusion, resistance may be the most just act of all. And in this sea of broken promises, the pirate flag may be the only one worth flying.
Pirates Get Results—Governments Don’t
In 2015, Sea Shepherd ships pursued and drove the outlaw toothfish poaching fleet out of the Southern Ocean. The 120-day chase of the Thunder—the longest pursuit of a poaching vessel in maritime history—ended when its captain scuttled his own ship to destroy evidence. My crew responded by boarding the sinking vessel to secure proof of its crimes. We also rescued all 42 crewmembers and delivered them to Interpol authorities in São Tomé and Príncipe.
We accomplished what Australia and New Zealand refused to do. We worked with Interpol, providing evidence not just on the Thunder but on five other poaching ships: the Perlon, Songhua, Yong Ding, Kunlun, and Viking.
The irony? While I was cooperating with Interpol, Japan had issued an Interpol Red Notice against me for interfering with their illegal whaling operations. Even stranger? Despite our success in shutting down six illegal fishing operations, Australia and New Zealand condemned our actions as "irresponsible and dangerous"—though no one was harmed.
When a New Zealand official was asked why their navy refused to board a toothfish poacher, he replied, "Respectfully, we’re not Sea Shepherd. We’re not pirates." His admission was telling: Governments lack the will; pirates have the courage.
In July 2015, The New York Times ran a front-page story on the Thunder pursuit, and U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry publicly praised Sea Shepherd’s actions. This contradiction—governmental praise for direct action while refusing to take it themselves—is at the heart of Levy’s argument: When states fail, civil society must act.
The Cost of Being an Eco-Pirate
Today, my foundation and Sea Shepherd France are hunting down and seizing poaching nets in the waters of French Guiana, while my ship, the Bandero, prepares to voyage to the Southern Ocean to intervene against the ecologically destructive Norwegian and Chinese krill fishery.
But the path is getting harder. Governments are cracking down on NGOs while turning a blind eye to corporate poaching. Despite never being convicted of a felony or losing a civil suit, I’ve been arrested multiple times:
120 days in the Netherlands (1997) on a Norwegian extradition demand for opposing illegal whaling.
149 days in Greenland pending a Japanese extradition request for the same reason.
Both attempts failed. Yet while my interventions are labeled "eco-terrorism" by poachers, corporate plunder continues unchecked—despite laws like the UN World Charter for Nature and the High Seas Treaty.
Levy warns that NGO interventions are becoming riskier, while poachers exploit weak enforcement to evade justice. Being an eco-pirate has been rewarding, but it’s getting harder. Governments are weaponizing bureaucracy to stifle non-governmental action.
But history has taught me one thing: pirates are needed when the system fails. That’s why I designed my own Jolly Roger and hoisted it up my ships’ masts. If my enemies wanted to call me a pirate, I decided to own the label.
In a bizarre twist, U.S. Federal Judge Alex Kozinski once officially declared me a "legally accredited pirate"—though I was never charged with piracy or any crime in U.S. courts. I have no problem with the title. If defending whales and the ocean makes me a pirate in the eyes of poachers and cowardly governments, then it’s a pirate’s life for me.
(And for the record, the anti-environmentalist, pro-whaling judge who made that ruling? He was later removed from the bench for sexual harassment and misconduct.)
The Only Flag That Matters
The Only Flag Worth Flying arrives at a critical moment. The High Seas Treaty exists, but without enforcement, it’s meaningless. Who will stop the plunder? Governments won’t. Corporations won’t. The only ones left are the eco-pirates—the ones willing to fly the flag that actually means something.
Because in the end, the only flag worth flying is the one that stands for action.
