Commentary

Why Maritime Strain Is Becoming a Global Governance Problem

April 22, 2026

COMMENTARY BY:

Picture of Nong Hong
Nong Hong

Executive Director & Senior Fellow

Recent developments from the Arctic to the South China Sea, from the South Pacific to the Gulf, suggest that the world’s oceans are entering a period of unusual strain. Climate disruption, gray-zone competition, chokepoint vulnerability and infrastructure rivalry are no longer separate trends. They are converging in ways that increasingly shape regional stability, global markets and the wider international order. The central challenge is no longer simply how states compete at sea, but whether maritime spaces can still be governed effectively under layered pressures.

What is changing is not the importance of the oceans, but the form that importance now takes. Maritime space is no longer only a set of shipping lanes, energy corridors or legal jurisdictions. It is also a security theater, an ecological system and a platform for ports, undersea cables and strategic infrastructure. Functions once managed separately are now compressed into the same domain. That is why the maritime sphere is becoming at once more accessible, more contested and more fragile.

The Arctic now offers the clearest example of how environmental change and geopolitical repositioning are reinforcing one another. In late March, Arctic sea ice reached a record-low winter peak, underscoring how quickly the physical operating environment is changing. Yet this spring’s Arctic story has not been climatic alone. Canada’s return to Greenland and NATO’s launch of Arctic Sentry have both signaled a denser layer of political and security attention in the High North. The point is not simply that warming is opening the region. It is that greater access is arriving at the same moment as renewed strategic competition, making the Arctic easier to enter but harder to govern. Shipping, infrastructure, emergency response and environmental protection are all becoming more urgent at a time when the region is also being re-securitized.

Antarctica presents a quieter but, in some ways, more revealing version of the same problem. Here the main stress is not overt confrontation but institutional lag. Broader ocean governance has moved forward, including through the entry into force of the High Seas Treaty, while Antarctic marine governance remains anchored in CCAMLR’s consensus-based system, a framework with real institutional legitimacy but one that has recently found it harder to translate scientific concern into new protective measures. Marine protected areas have continued to face political blockage despite longstanding scientific support. The lesson is larger than Antarctica itself: even when the ecological case is clear, collective action can stall when governance mechanisms are slow, fragmented or trust-poor.

The South China Sea illustrates a different source of pressure: the normalization of below-threshold competition. What matters is not only the frequency of incidents, but the political environment in which they now occur. Repeated encounters at sea now unfold within a thicker mix of gray-zone tactics, deterrence signaling and outside security involvement. In April, major joint exercises involving the Philippines and the United States highlighted the deterrence side of the equation, while the opening of a new Philippine coast guard base on Thitu Island showed how operational footholds in contested waters are steadily being hardened. None of this changes the legal basis of the underlying disputes, but it does alter the crisis geometry around them. A confrontation at sea increasingly carries implications not only for sovereignty, but also for alliance credibility, strategic signaling and the acceptable limits of coercion.

If the South China Sea shows how maritime order is contested, the Strait of Hormuz shows how quickly disruption is transmitted worldwide. Even as diplomatic efforts sought to restore traffic, maritime authorities have warned that thousands of civilian seafarers remain stranded and that a coordinated safe-passage framework is still needed. The issue is therefore not only the vulnerability of a narrow waterway. It is the wider governance gap between military escalation and civilian shipping protection. In a densely interconnected maritime economy, uncertainty alone can ripple outward through energy prices, shipping insurance, rerouting costs and market confidence. Hormuz demonstrates that chokepoints now generate global exposure long before their status is fully normalized.

The South Pacific adds another dimension to the picture. On April 1, New Zealand and the Cook Islands signed a new Defence and Security Declaration after a period of tension over the Cook Islands’ external engagements. The agreement reaffirmed New Zealand as the islands’ primary defense and security partner, but its significance is broader. It underscores how the Pacific is no longer peripheral to questions of influence, infrastructure, strategic access and political alignment. Small island states are not passive terrain on which major powers compete. They are political actors whose choices increasingly shape the strategic environment around them.

What these cases reveal is not a single maritime crisis, but a widening gap between how much the global economy depends on the oceans and how weak, fragmented and reactive the politics of governing them has become. Maritime flows remain dense, but the conditions that keep them secure are becoming more contested and less reliable. That is why traditional policy silos are becoming less useful. Climate policy without maritime infrastructure planning is incomplete. Security policy without economic resilience is too narrow. And development policy in island regions cannot be separated from the strategic environment in which it operates.

Nor are the consequences confined to the Indo-Pacific. For Europe, maritime instability now bears directly on trade routes, energy security, insurance costs and the political burden of responding to crises far from its shores. For middle powers and smaller states alike, what happens in contested waters can no longer be treated as distant once its effects are transmitted through shipping, prices and strategic alignment. The oceans are now one of the main channels through which regional instability becomes global exposure.

The central question, then, is not whether the oceans matter, but whether major powers and regional actors can still govern maritime spaces under conditions of simultaneous ecological strain, strategic competition and economic interdependence. If states continue to treat maritime tensions mainly as a series of short-term rivalries, the result will be a more fragmented and crisis-prone seascape. But if they recognize that many maritime pressures, from climate risk to chokepoint disruption, are now functionally shared, there is still room to prevent competition from spilling into wider disorder. That will require not only naval presence and reactive diplomacy, but also stronger crisis-management mechanisms, more resilient maritime infrastructure and a greater willingness to translate legal and scientific consensus into workable governance. The deeper issue in maritime politics today is no longer simply who can project power at sea. It is whether the world can still preserve order in oceans under stress.