Azores’ MPA expansion: A systemic shift in North Atlantic ocean governance amid colonial legacies and extractive pressures

The Azores’ MPA network is framed as a modern conservation achievement, yet it disregards Indigenous and local ecological knowledge systems that have sustained marine ecosystems for centuries. Traditional Azorean fishing practices, such as *pesca de cana* (pole fishing) or seasonal bans on certain species, align with ecological principles but are excluded from governance. Comparable Indigenous-led MPAs, like the *Rāhui* in Rapa Nui or the *Comunidades de Manejo de Recursos Marinos* in Mexico, demonstrate that conservation thrives when it integrates ancestral stewardship rather than imposing external regulations.

The Azores’ marine conservation efforts are deeply entangled with colonial extraction, from the 15th-century Portuguese exploitation of whale populations to the 20th-century industrialization of tuna fisheries. The archipelago’s strategic location made it a battleground for European empires, leaving a legacy of overfishing and habitat degradation. Historical parallels include the collapse of Newfoundland’s cod fisheries in the 1990s, where top-down management failed to account for Indigenous and local knowledge, or the overfishing of Atlantic bluefin tuna driven by EU and Japanese demand.

Indigenous and Pacific Islander communities have long practiced marine conservation through relational governance, where the ocean is a kin-based ecosystem rather than a resource to be managed. In the Azores, the lack of such frameworks risks repeating the failures of Western conservation models, which often displace local communities under the guise of protection. For example, the *Rāhui* system in Aotearoa prioritizes collective well-being and intergenerational equity, contrasting with the Azores’ state-led approach, which may prioritize international biodiversity targets over local livelihoods.

Scientifically, the Azores’ MPA network is a critical step in restoring North Atlantic biodiversity, particularly for migratory species like tuna and cetaceans. However, the design lacks peer-reviewed evidence on the effectiveness of large-scale MPAs in temperate regions, where enforcement is challenging and ecological connectivity is poorly understood. Studies from the Mediterranean (e.g., the *Pelagos Sanctuary*) show that MPAs without community buy-in and adaptive management often fail to deliver ecological benefits. The Azores’ plan also overlooks the impacts of climate change on marine ecosystems, which may render static MPAs obsolete.

The Azores’ marine environment is deeply embedded in local cosmologies, where the ocean is not merely an economic resource but a sacred entity. Azorean folklore, such as the legend of the *Sereia* (mermaid) or the *Boi do Mar* (sea ox), reflects a worldview where humans are part of a reciprocal relationship with marine life. Western conservation narratives often strip such spiritual dimensions, reducing the ocean to a quantifiable asset. Artistic traditions, like the *Festa do Mar* in the Azores, celebrate this connection but are rarely integrated into conservation policy.

Future scenarios for the Azores’ MPAs must account for climate-induced shifts in marine species distribution, which could render current boundaries obsolete. The network’s success hinges on adaptive governance that incorporates Indigenous knowledge, local monitoring, and flexible zoning. Without these, the MPAs may become 'paper parks'—legally designated but ecologically ineffective. Comparable models, such as the *Great Barrier Reef Marine Park* in Australia, highlight the need for dynamic management in the face of climate change.

Azorean small-scale fishers, particularly women and youth, are systematically excluded from MPA decision-making, despite their disproportionate reliance on marine resources. The narrative centers the Azores’ president and Western conservation NGOs, erasing the voices of those most affected by the MPAs. Globally, marginalized coastal communities—such as the Miskito in Nicaragua or the Sama-Bajau in Southeast Asia—have been displaced by conservation projects that prioritize biodiversity over livelihoods. The Azores’ model risks repeating this pattern unless it adopts participatory frameworks.