Sometimes, the most important conversations don’t begin with headlines. They start with questions.

What if the solutions we chase in the name of progress come at a price we haven’t fully grasped? What if, in our rush to power the green transition, we ignore the silent, slow-moving ecosystems that hold the memory of the planet — and its future?

The latest WWF report—“Analysis of the Implications of Deep Seabed Mining for the Global Biodiversity Framework and the Sustainable Development Agenda”—opens that conversation. Not with slogans or drama but with facts, mapped patiently against the goals we’ve all signed up for: the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework and the UN Sustainable Development Goals.

We are proud to have co-created the layout of this essential publication in close collaboration with the WWF communication team. This wasn’t simply about design — a shared effort to give clarity, structure, and visibility to complex, essential content.

When mining the ocean means undermining the planet

It’s hard to imagine. In the name of sustainability, some are willing to industrialise the last untouched parts of our world — the deep seabed, home to life forms older than most mountain ranges.

DSM—deep seabed mining—is being positioned as a key to securing critical minerals for the green economy. Yet the science is far from conclusive, the governance is fragile, and the risks are immense.

The WWF report doesn’t shout. It connects the dots: Eighteen of twenty-three biodiversity targets are at risk, and sixteen of seventeen SDGs are threatened.

The impacts go beyond nature. Food security, especially in small island states, climate resilience, equity between nations, and cultural ties to marine territories are all potentially compromised by a technology that is, at best, experimental—and at worst, irreversible.

A matter of governance, not just extraction

One of the report’s most striking insights is that DSM isn’t simply an environmental issue. It’s a governance challenge, a story of imbalances: between rich and poor, between those who decide and those who endure the consequences.

The International Seabed Authority — meant to regulate the activity — also promotes it. That dual role raises fundamental questions about transparency, accountability, and trust.

And here’s the thing: DSM doesn’t replace terrestrial mining. It adds to it. The notion that it’s a greener option is flawed. It risks becoming another chapter in the long history of short-sighted extraction dressed up in sustainability rhetoric.

Why this matters to communicators

Suppose you work in communication for a European or international association, especially one active in the environmental or sustainability field. In that case, you know how complex the landscape is. You know the frameworks, the policy tensions, the balancing act between clarity and nuance.

This report is a tool and a resource. It speaks your language and integrates science, ethics, and global goals into one coherent, structured narrative.

And that’s precisely where our agency comes in. At #inextremis, we’ve spent years supporting organisations like WWF, Greenpeace, UNEP, and the European Environment Agency. We don’t pretend to know better. We collaborate. We listen. We bring ideas to life with respect for your expertise and a deep understanding of the causes you defend.

Telling stories that protect what matters

Working on this report wasn’t just another assignment. It was a reminder of why we do what we do—that good communication isn’t about buzzwords—it’s about care, precision, and sometimes, a quiet sense of urgency.

Because the deep sea has no voice, but we do. And how we choose to use it—what we amplify, question, and help others understand—is where real impact begins.

So, if you’re leading or supporting a communication initiative in this space and you’re looking for a partner who understands, let’s talk.

We believe in communication with purpose. And we’d be honoured to help you carry yours further.