TEMPORARY FISHING BANS FOR PERMANENT SUSTAINABILITY AND FOOD SECURITY
TEMPORARY FISHING BANS FOR PERMANENT SUSTAINABILITY AND FOOD SECURITY
Sometimes, protecting tomorrow really does mean giving up today. Indonesia understood this painful truth and acted on it. By temporarily closing fishing areas and enforcing seasonal bans, it chose patience over panic, sustainability over short-term profit. In doing so, it showed the rest of the region—including the Philippines—what ecological foresight looks like in practice.
Indonesia’s logic is simple but powerful: you cannot keep withdrawing from nature without letting it regenerate. Think of the sea as a bank account. For decades, many countries have been spending the capital—the breeding fish—rather than living off the interest. Indonesia decided to pause, let the interest accumulate, and allow fish populations to recover naturally.
The results are hard to ignore. Studies from community-led closures in places like West Kalimantan show mud crab harvests increasing by almost 30 percent once fishing resumed, translating directly into higher household income. Larger fish mean more eggs, and more eggs mean a spillover effect—nearby fishing grounds are replenished without additional effort. Coral reefs and seafloors also recover when nets, anchors, and trawls are temporarily removed. This is not just about fish; it is about restoring the entire marine food web.
Critics often argue that bans hurt fishers. In the short term, that is true. But Indonesia reframed sustainability as economic insurance. Healthier stocks produce bigger fish that command higher prices. Flourishing reefs attract divers and researchers, creating alternative livelihoods. And most importantly, a country of more than 280 million people protects its primary protein source. In 2024 alone, Indonesia’s fishery exports reached nearly six billion US dollars—clear proof that sustainability does not automatically mean poverty.
Indonesia is now institutionalizing this approach through its Measured Fishing Policy, set for full rollout in 2026. Success will no longer be judged solely by volume landed, but by food security, biodiversity, and the protection of small-scale fishers—who make up about 80 percent of the sector and often use boats under five gross tons.
So what can the Philippines learn from this?
We are not strangers to fishing bans. We have seen seasonal closures for sabano and the protection of species like ludong. Taal Lake’s tawilis has long been regulated—though enforcement remains uneven. The question is not whether bans work. The question is whether we are serious enough to enforce them properly and consistently.
How good are we really at implementing fishing bans? Experience tells us enforcement is our weak point. BFAR cannot do this alone. Our seas are vast, and illegal fishing does not stop just because a memo was issued. Shouldn’t the Philippine Navy, the Coast Guard, and the PNP Maritime Group be more visibly and systematically involved? Food security is national security. Why do we treat it as a purely civilian concern?
Indonesia’s example also highlights the importance of community buy-in. Fishers must understand that temporary closures are for them, not against them. Without education, alternative livelihoods, or transitional support, bans become political liabilities rather than conservation tools.
Climate change makes this even more urgent. Restored reefs and mangrove forests act as storm barriers and carbon sinks. A healthy ocean is one of the best defenses an archipelagic country can have against rising seas and stronger typhoons.
Indonesia has shown that restraint can be revolutionary. Temporary sacrifice can lead to permanent sustainability. The real question for us is this: do we have the discipline, coordination, and political courage to do the same—or will we keep fishing today and apologizing tomorrow?
RAMON IKE V. SENERES
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