To strengthen maritime security it is crucial that researchers work closely together. The Maritime Security mailing list was launched in 2014 by piracy-studies.org to facilitate cooperation between maritime security researchers and other interested actors. To subscribe to the mailing list please follow the link here.
To facilitate collaboration and dialogue across the different sectors and domains of maritime security in different regional waters and the global oceans, subscribers are invited to join the list and use it to
Inform about recent studies, articles and books in the field of maritime security (including promoting their own work).
Circulate call for papers and advertise events, workshops and conferences. These should be directed at or of interested for analysts and scholars in the field of maritime security and should be not-for-profit.
Raise questions on distinct research topics in the field of maritime security or invite to comment on a piece of work, such as a draft paper.
Point to major new policy documents and developments which are of general interest to the group (such as a new maritime security strategy).
Blue criminology provides an alternative perspective on the sea. It argues that the sea presents a particular environment characterized by fluidity, complexity and legal pluralism, and the complicated land-sea relation. The ocean environment also implies specific forms of harm caused by criminals.
Understanding these conditions and different forms of blue crime is the agenda of blue criminology. Safeseas directors Prof Christian Bueger and Prof Tim Edmunds presented the outline of the agenda of blue criminology at a recent event hosted by the Center for Blue Governance at the University of Portsmouth on 25.11.2020.
What is blue criminology?
Bueger and Edmunds define blue criminology as follows:
“blue criminology is the trans-disciplinary field that studies illicit activities in the maritime domain and its consequences for security, order, the environment and economy. As a field, blue criminology integrates insights from disciplines as diverse as the sociology and anthropology of crime and policing, logistics and infrastructure studies, marine geography, migration studies, security studies, international law, international relations and other disciplines concerned with the ocean and marine environment.”
For Bueger and Edmunds, blue criminology has three major concerns:
“It is firstly interested in the social, economic and political conditions that lead to blue crimes; secondly, with the motivations, organisations and practices of carrying out such crimes, thirdly, with the practical responses to such activities through legal, security, policing, economic or other instruments and the larger political effects of such measures for order.”
Crimes against mobility. In this category crime targets what moves at sea and causes harm in the transport, fishing or tourism industry, the infrastructures that they required, but also among other users of the sea. Different expressions of maritime piracy are paradigmatic here, but we also need to consider port security, or marine cyber security.
Criminal flows. In these kinds of crimes the sea is used as a transit space, while the harm is not caused directly at sea, but where populations are most often the target. Different forms of smuggling people and illicit goods are part of this category.
Environmental crimes. This category again differs as here the harm is caused at sea. It is the environment that suffers, and the effects on human populations can be long term or indirect, as when an act of deliberate pollution destroys the habitat of a coastline.
One of the core task of blue criminology is to understand how such crimes interlink, mutually enable each other, thrive under the same conditions, or are committed by the same perpetrators. The point is to develop more holistic analyses of such crimes.
Yet the goal is also to understand how responses to such crimes inter-relate out of an analytical but also practical interest.
Blue criminology brings the considerable degree of fragmentation and complexity of institutional responses to the fore. Overlap and competition between respondents are the consequences. One of the goal of blue criminology is hence to understand these difficulties and identify areas in which better synergies can be achieved.
One element of this work are frequent events for maritime stakeholders and an interested public. On the 25th of November, SafeSeas Director Prof. Christian Bueger gave a presentation, in the IFC’s new 3 day online format, the 2020 Maritime Security Webinar.
Submarine data cables are one of the most important critical infrastructures of the digital age. Surprisingly little is known about how the cable network works, how it is governed and what kind of politics it entails.
In a new exploratory research project funded by the Danish Agency for Higher Education and Science, SafeSeas members study the cable network focusing on the cases of Denmark and South Africa. The project is a collaboration between the University of Copenhagen, the Institute for Security Studies (Pretoria), and the SafeSeas network. It runs from 2021 to 2022 and is led by Prof. Christian Bueger, with Dr. Tobias Liebetrau (University of Copenhagen) and Mr. Tim Walker (ISS) as the core team.
Drawing on contemporary debates on the politics and security of infrastructures in this project we connect debates on cyber space and ocean space. We investigates how cables are governed and protected, their geopolitical and socio-technical relations and how cable infrastructure become objects of governance.
On October 25th at around 10am, just off the coast of the Isle of Wight, seven stowaways turned violent and threatened the crew of the Nave Andromeda, sparking concerns of a hijacking and intervention by the coastguard and police. A three-mile exclusion zone was put into effect around the ship for 10 hours, before the Navy’s Special Boat Service (SBS) boarded the ship and detained the stowaways.
Much of the reporting has revolved around the intervention of the SBS in this incident. But it should also encourage us to reflect more widely on the implications for UK maritime security.
Maritime security in home waters
What maritime security risks does the UK face in its own waters? In this case, the stowaways’ actions seemed to have resulted from their attempts to claim asylum in the UK being frustrated by the crew’s actions to detain them prior to the ship entering the Port of Southampton.
Initially however, the seizure sparked concerns about maritime terrorism, including potentially the use of the tanker to cause damage to UK ports or inflict an environmental catastrophe off the British coast. Fears centred on the ship containing significant quantities of oil that could in theory facilitate such an attack, though this was later dismissed.
Such concerns are indicative of a wider set of maritime security risks, challenges and demands in UK waters.
A potential terrorist incident at sea remains perhaps the foremost of these. In particular, the spectre of a mass casualty ‘Mumbai style’ attack on a ferry or cruise liner looms large in the worst-case scenarios of UK maritime security planners.
Other risks include criminal or state-based threats to submarine cables and other maritime infrastructures, smuggling and trafficking of various sorts, as well as demands to protect and police fishing grounds and Marine Protected Areas (MPAs), the maintenance of public order at sea – for example in the event of clashes between rival fishing boats, the blockade of a port – and the need to ensure maritime safety and to protect lives at sea.
To what extent is the UK prepared for such challenges? On this occasion the crew quickly secured themselves in the ship’s citadel, an action which was followed by a swift, well-coordinated and effective maritime security response. This involved multiple agencies including the police, coastguard and Navy, and culminated in an SBS boarding action which was able to take control of the ship quickly and bloodlessly.
But was the UK also lucky in this case? The stowaways appear to have been relatively compliant beyond the initial reports of violence. The incident took place close to shore and in Channel waters, where response times are short and key assets close to hand. The SBS has its headquarters at Poole – only a few miles from the site of the hijacking. Hampshire police is one of the best equipped and most active maritime forces in the country. Maritime domain awareness, surveillance and coordination capacities are at their strongest off the south coast.
Not all the UK’s maritime spaces are so well served.
These events highlight the importance of the UK’s maritime spaces, and the challenges that these can present for security policy and practice.
In Britain, we have become accustomed to thinking of the seas off our coasts as safe and well-ordered spaces for commerce, transportation and leisure. For the most part, and at most times, this remains the case.
Yet the Nave Andromeda incident is not the only one in recent months that suggests this benign picture may be partial at best. The increase in asylum seekers risking their lives to cross to the UK in small boats has highlighted challenges of maritime border management, search and rescue and people smuggling by sea. Major drug seizures in ports highlight the importance of maritime routes to drug traffickers. And Brexit is likely to place new demands on the UK to police and manage its fishing grounds and other maritime resources.
Different maritime risks can be linked – or have the potential to escalate – in ways that are not always easy to appreciate or predict. In this case the problem of stowaways on board became a more serious challenge and, initially at least – raised concerns over of a potential terrorist threat. It is plausible that similar chains of events might end less happily in future.
Migration and security
Maritime security cannot be considered in isolation from other policy areas. The Nave Andromeda case, similar to the rise in small boats crossing the Channel, proved fundamentally to be a problem of migration, human tragedy and desperation, as much as it was one of maritime security.
These are issues that cannot be addressed by maritime security responses alone. As we have argued elsewhere in the context of the small boats crisis, migration issues are ultimately best served by migration policy.
In the case of the UK, the restriction of legal migration options such as the refugee resettlement scheme and obstacles in more traditional migration routes due to COVID-19 controls, have encouraged desperate asylum seekers to opt for risky maritime crossings in order to reach the UK.
Any long-term solution to these challenges must be found in an effective and humane migration policy rather than in policing the consequences of its absence.
None of this means that the UK can ignore the demands of maritime security. Outside of the Channel and certain other areas of strategic priority – such as coastal nuclear power stations or military installations – maritime security capacities are more fragmented and inconsistent.
If it had taken place elsewhere, the Nave Andromeda incident may have proved more difficult to manage.
Certainly, stowaways pose problems for ports beyond the Channel too, and this also applies to other potential maritime risks too, including those with far graver potential consequences than a last ditch bid for asylum by desperate migrants.
Either way, the UK cannot afford to be ‘seablind’ in its own waters. There needs to be a proper recognition of maritime security in future policy and resourcing decisions, including in the government’s ongoing Integrated Review.
Importantly, such efforts must include not only the Navy and marines, but other key maritime security and governance agencies too. These include the police, coastguard, Border Force and Marine Management Organisations, as well as the mechanisms and processes through which these organisations train and coordinate with each other.
The Nave Andromeda incident demonstrated how the UK can respond effectively to a maritime security crisis when it occurs. But this should not stop the government from reflecting hard on the implications of this this case for maritime security more widely and ensuring that responses to potentially more serious incidents in future are just as successful.
How can countries step up their maritime security? How can they better tackle challenges, such as illegal fishing, marine piracy or smuggling? How can the international community better assist countries with weaker capacities?
A major new book authored by the SafeSeas team addresses these and related questions. The book draws on an 18 months research project that has collated the experience in the Western Indian Ocean.
The book provides an overview of the challenges linked to maritime security capacity building. It offers a framework for evaluating and studying gaps, needs and progress in developing maritime security responses. Seven countries are studied in detail: Israel, Pakistan, South Africa, Kenya, Seychelles, Djibouti, and Somalia.
The book complements the best practice toolkit for maritime security capacity building published earlier. It is a must read for anyone interested in maritime security, how to best organize responses, and how to deliver capacity building. It is a major new source for those engaged in improving maritime security, ocean governance, but also provides new analytical thinking for the scholarly debate.
SafeSeas Director Christian Bueger gave a talk on the challenges that the anthropocene, climate change and biodiversity loss pose for maritime security at the conference of the NATO Maritime Security Centre of Excellence 2020 conference on September 16th.
In the talk Bueger revisited what changes the anthropocene imply and what that means for maritime security forces. He argued that the anthropocene implies changing patterns of blue crime, more difficult working conditions for maritime security forces as well as a broader spectrum of tasks.
Summer 2020 was a miserable one on the Channel. On 19 August, it was confirmed that a migrant’s life was lost, one week after the deployment of a Royal Air Force ‘submarine hunter’, a Boeing P8-A Poseidon, to the Channel to support Border Force in the face of burgeoning migrant crossings. On 8 August, it was announced that the Home Office had requested military aid in light of a record 235 crossings on 6 August. That record was short lived: it was eclipsed by 416 crossings on 2 September.
This issue of cross-Channel migration – chained as it is to highly coordinated transnational organised crime – burns brightly in public discourse.
Addressing an urgent Parliamentary question on 2 September, Under-Secretary of State Chris Philp lamented the “completely unacceptable increase in illegal migration through small-boat crossings from France to the UK…The majority of these crossings are facilitated by ruthless criminal gangs that make money from exploiting migrants who are desperate to come here”.
Those gangs, he declared, “are dangerous; they are ruthless; they are exploiting vulnerable migrants; and they are engaged in other associated criminality. We will stop at nothing to get all of them rounded up, arrested and put out of business”.
Central to this rhetoric is intelligence sharing and multi-stakeholder cooperation. In that debate, Philp sought to reassure Parliament that the government was “working closely with [its] French colleagues to prevent these crossings. That includes patrols of the beaches by French officers, some of whom we fund, surveillance and intelligence sharing…We have already in the last two months established a joint intelligence cell to ensure that intelligence about crossings is rapidly acted upon”.
But something has remained silent and invisible in this crisis: a UK multi-agency initiative that turns 13 this month, yet eludes public scrutiny.
Little is known about Project Kraken, and it is time that questions are asked, at high levels, about Kraken’s track record. It is in the public interest that maritime security thinkers and practitioners investigate Kraken’s successes, failures and expenditures.
What is Project Kraken?
On 17 September 2007, Kraken was launched at Southampton Boat Show. Its intention was to combat terrorism and crime on the UK coastline. But the launch came just three days after Northern Rock bank agreed emergency funding: this was the start of the financial crisis, and austerity.
It is in this context that we should understand Kraken’s avoidance of deploying proverbial boots on the ground. Kraken was not about mobilising intelligence, surveillance and law enforcement personnel.
Quite the opposite. It sought to mobilise members of the public, attuning them to incidences of suspiciousness that might (or might not) indicate the preparation or commission of crime or terrorism on the coastline.
The logic is tempting. The CIA’s tried-and-tested World Factbook indicates that the UK’s coastline is well over 12,000km long. Certain coastal infrastructural nodes (ports, oil and gas terminals, power stations) are policed by such specialist non-Home Office forces as the Ministry of Defence Police, Civil Nuclear Constabulary and Port of Dover Police. And coastal towns and cities are, of course, policed by their respective Home Office constabularies.
But there are swathes of the coastline that elude law enforcement and intelligence attention. In the age of (post)austerity, there are not enough proverbial boots to deploy.
Kraken, in theory at least, would overcome this seemingly impossible task of keeping watch upon the more remote stretches of the coastline. It uses vigilance calls – posters, public engagement, informative webpages – to raise public awareness of what suspiciousness on the coast looks like.
It is involved in what Louise Amoore once called a “watchful politics” that seeks to render members of the public cognizant to potential indicators of crime and terrorism.
Who is watching whom?
Let me stress two things. Firstly, the informants are citizen informants rather than pensionable surveillance and intelligence officers. The informants are members of the public who frequent the coastline, either as part of their private lives or their working livelihoods.
This leads to my second point: Kraken is pre-judicial in requesting citizens to judge ‘others’ according to their extant understandings of what an ‘ordinary’, legally compliant person or activity looks like.
Forget the possibility that intelligence and surveillance officers sniffing for people traffickers, drug smugglers and terrorists will be cloaked in ‘t-shirt and jeans’ garb. You might as well report them, too.
A Neighbourhood Watch at Sea?
There are striking similarities between Project Kraken and British Transport Police’s ‘See it, say it, sorted’ campaign. There are also affinities here with Neighbourhood Watch.
But whilst a ‘Neighbourhood Watch’ search of the British Library catalogue returns 450 results, a ‘Project Kraken’ search returns 4, and not one of them has the slightest pertinence to coastal security.
The work I conducted for my recent paper in Geopolitics was unable to identify much hard data on Kraken’s successes, failures and expenditures. Coventry University’s James Malcolm once conducted a small survey of Kraken during his doctorate. Yet, its sample size, and potential groupthink bias – the survey was police-checked before distribution – compounds the fact it was conducted a decade ago.
The land-based Neighbourhood Watch concept is better understood, more prevalent in the public imagination, and the subject of infinitely more research. A schoolboy Google Scholar search for Neighbourhood Watch returns, at the time of writing, 210,000 results.
So, as a summer of misery on the Channel draws to a conclusion, my questions are simple.
In the last thirteen years, how much has Project Kraken cost? How many (a) incidents and (b) crimes has it detected? And finally, what role – if any – has it played in the English Channel crisis?
If it has failed, should funds not be redirected elsewhere? Perhaps it is time for Project Kraken to surface for once more in Parliamentary questions.
Dr Duncan Weaver manages the University of East Anglia validated Crime, Terrorism and Global Security degree. He previously taught at Keele University and worked in law enforcement.
What are the consequences of the oil spill in Mauritius for the regional maritime security agenda in the Western Indian Ocean. In a new commentary published by the Observer Research Foundation, Christian Bueger and Tim Edmunds discuss what kind of capacity building will be needed in the future and what regional issues need to be addressed.
Piracy, smuggling and illegal fishing are three blue crimes increasingly high on the international agenda. Such crimes have different expressions across the world’s maritime regions and affect human lives, political stability and economic interests in different ways, ranging from their impact on coastal communities to international shipping and even national security.
There are significant debates and uncertainties, however, around the current usage of the term ‘blue crime’. These centre around the meaning, scope and reach of the concept including, what illicit activities it comprises, and how these can be meaningfully structured in ways that that both recognise the diverse nature of maritime crime yet also provide a basis for an integrated response to it.
SafeSeas directors Christian Bueger and Tim Edmunds have recently published an article that addresses these uncertainties and contestations and develops a systematic categorisation of ‘blue crime’. Through this categorisation, the article identifies three core groups of blue crime: crimes against mobility, criminal flows, and environmental crimes.
Specifically, the article highlights three consequences: First, it is clear that some forms of maritime crime are significantly better documented than others. Second, it implies that more work needs to be done to understand the ways in which different actors and organisations involved in the fight against maritime crime share information between each other, and more widely.
Finally, it points to the importance of the governance and organisation of joined up responses to blue crimes, including capacity building as the international and regional governance systems are fragmented and lack integration.
These leads to the below guiding questions for the discussion:
What forms of blue crimes are invisible, but should gain more attention?
How do blue crimes hang together?
Should we speak about blue crime, rather than transnational organised crime at sea?
Can we build better synergies in tackling different forms of crime at sea?