Opinion

A 55 per cent jump in the northern cod catch rate is not gradual  

A 55 per cent jump in the northern cod catch rate is not gradual  

HALIFAX—On the face of it, Ottawa’s decision to increase the catch rate for northern cod is a good-news story.

Fisheries Minister Joanne Thompson went so far as to call it a “remarkable” day, the day the total allowable catch was increased by 55 per cent.

So how much fish are we talking about? Ottawa has raised the total allowable catch from 38,000 to 59,000 metric tonnes. 

Quarrels have already broken out over how the fish are to be divided. Inshore fishermen get 70 per cent of the increased quota, 20 per cent goes to mid-shore and offshore vessels, and the remaining 10 per cent is reserved for Indigenous Peoples and special fleets. 

At least one player is not pleased. Liberal MP Philip Earle described the cod allocations as “not acceptable," and said he would like to see more of the quota dedicated to fishing interests based in Labrador, including Indigenous fishers.  

Along with Earle’s criticism, there was also praise for Thompson and the quota hike. Industry stakeholders in particular welcomed the decision, and why not?  

Inshore and offshore fishermen alike can now catch more of a species that has been the backbone of the Atlantic fishery for centuries. Whether they went to sea in small boats or trawlers with massive nets, they are all going to prosper from Ottawa’s move—for now.

But this news is as worrisome and potentially disturbing as it is beneficial to stakeholders in the fishing industry. That’s because the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, with all its acknowledged scientific expertise, doesn’t have a great record on managing stocks. DFO once pushed the northern cod to the brink of commercial extinction by getting the quota numbers wrong. That mistake also affected 30,000 jobs in Atlantic Canada—the largest mass layoff in Canadian history.

Things got so bad that Ottawa was forced to do the unthinkable in 1992: it closed the legendary cod fishery, a moratorium that lasted for 32 years.

It was a panic move triggered when fishermen and federal policymakers suddenly realized that the hitherto “inexhaustible” stock of northern cod was actually on the brink of being fished out. 

Ironically, a Newfoundlander was federal fisheries minister at the time. The charismatic MP from St. John’s West, the late John Crosbie, had to make the stunning announcement to a province that could barely believe its ears.  

Despite stories about cold-water temperatures and cod predators as the culprit of the closure, the cause of the cod collapse was pretty basic: too many fishermen chasing too few fish. With massive inshore and trawler harvesting, the cod were left with no place to hide and little time to reproduce.    

Like Canada, Norway, too, experienced a cod collapse and had to close that fishery.  Norway’s fisheries minister of the day reduced the disaster to two words: “human greed."

Both Canada and Norway waited too long to act on the demise of the cod, a collapse that was painfully obvious  long before governments acted. The cod fishermen saw from the sterns of their boats were as small as they were scarce. Yet, the quotas kept climbing.

Why so slow to act on what has been called the ecological disaster of the century? The cod fishery simply supplied too many jobs in remote areas, where there were few if any employment alternatives. Commerce and politics simply trumped sustainability and common sense. 

Coupled with that, everyone—from government to some of the fishermen themselves—seemed to forget that they were fishing for living creatures, not dollars. To maximize profits and employment numbers, the pressure from stakeholders and provinces was always to push Ottawa for ever higher quotas.  

Prior to the crash, the health of the stock was almost an afterthought. Back in those days, Ottawa set quotas in the range of 250,000 metric tonnes.  

Make no mistake about it, DFO has learned many lessons from the disastrous collapse of the northern cod. The cod quotas just announced by the minister are far smaller than they were when stocks collapsed.  

There are also a lot of superb scientists in the department dedicated to protecting stocks and avoiding the near catastrophic mistakes of the past. 

One of their biggest tasks is to have a handle on the size and health of fish stocks. But that is easier said than done. Counting fish is tricky business. Catch results from commercial fishermen can help, but have their problems. Who could expect people involved in the fishery to report catch rates likely to trigger reduced quotas?

Although research voyages by DFO itself can improve data on stock health, there are many factors that remain difficult to asses. How, for example, can DFO get reliable data on how many fish entering the biomass actually survive?  

Given the earlier cod collapse on DFO’s watch, is it unreasonable for Canadians to ask for more information on Ottawa’s recent quota increases? 

Is it unreasonable to ask DFO to produce the science that led them to believe that it was prudent to raise the cod quota by a whopping 55 per cent? 

Back in April, the department came to the conclusion that the cod stock had entered the “healthy zone." What exactly does DFO mean by that? How does the department define healthy and unhealthy when it comes to fish stocks?  

And very importantly, how much, if any of DFO’s decision to increase the cod quota came from data provided by the fishing industry?

The government and the minister deserve credit for setting the quota numbers at low levels compared to the bad old days where gross overfishing was officially endorsed.  

Given the history here, caution should remain the watch word on this sensitive file.  Increase the quota if the evidence supports it.  

But gradually.  

A jump of 55 per cent is not gradual.  

Michael Harris is an award-winning author and journalist.

The Hill Times