Cryopower Unfrozen: No Carte Blanche under International Law for Sea Ice Geoengineering to Restore the Arctic Ocean
a Norwegian Centre for the Law of the Sea (NCLOS), UiT—The Arctic University of Norway, Tromsø, Norway, and The Arctic Institute—Center for Circumpolar Security Studies (TAI), Washington, D.C.;
b Institut de recherche en droit international et européen de la Sorbonne (IREDIES), Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne, Paris, France
Abstract
In response to the unprecedented environmental pressures on the Arctic marine cryosphere, sea ice geoengineering (SIGE) has recently emerged as a potential strategy to restore the Arctic marine environment. The restoration of the environment has been affirmed by international courts as part of states’ due diligence obligations or as a form of reparation deriving from state responsibility. Yet, technological interventions in the Arctic marine cryosphere can be perceived as efforts to expand exploitative uses of ocean spaces, which could result in profound socio-ecological consequences. Against this background, this article investigates whether SIGE could legally qualify as a measure to restore the Arctic marine environment. To do so, this article employs the theoretical lens of cryopolitics, which explores the governance and manipulation of frozen environments via various means. In the context of sea ice restoration, this article observes that international law operates as a conduit for cryopolitics to unfold icewards, providing the legal obligation for states to restore the Arctic marine cryosphere. At the same time, international law holds the potential to act as a resistive force against cryopolitics by constraining the boundless expansion of climate interventions, as it arguably disqualifies SIGE from being considered a restoration measure in its current state of development. Even with future technological advancements towards the feasibility of SIGE, this article showcases that the potential of geoengineering to restore the Arctic marine cryosphere is limited by international law, owing to scientific uncertainty regarding its impacts and the application of the precautionary approach.
Article History
Received 15 January 2026
Revised 5 March 2026
Accepted 2 September 2026
Keywords
Advisory opinion, Arctic Ocean, climate change, cryopolitics, cryopower, due diligence, geoengineering, law of the sea, precautionary approach, restoration, sea ice geoengineering (SIGE), state responsibility
Contact Apostolos Tsiouvalas apostolos.tsiouvalas@uit.no 
Norwegian Centre for the Law of the Sea (NCLOS), UiT—The Arctic University of Norway, Tromsø, Norway.
Norwegian Centre for the Law of the Sea (NCLOS), UiT—The Arctic University of Norway, Tromsø, Norway.© 2026 The Author(s). Published with license by Taylor & Francis Group, LLC
This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited. The terms on which this article has been published allow the posting of the Accepted Manuscript in a repository by the author(s) or with their consent.
Introduction
The urgency to combat human-induced climate change is increasingly evident, as its adverse effects continue to intensify and proliferate globally.1 The Paris Agreement represents the primary international legal framework aimed at limiting global temperature increase.2 The Agreement provides for reducing the global average temperature increase to 2 °C above pre-industrial levels and pursuing efforts to limit it to 1.5 °C.3 More recently, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) considered that “1.5 °C has become the scientifically based consensus target under the Paris Agreement.”4 Achieving these objectives requires a rapid reduction of global greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions and the attainment of net-zero emissions by mid-century.5 However, the feasibility of meeting these temperature targets thus far appears increasingly uncertain, if not implausible. In this context, deliberate large-scale intervention in the earth’s climate system through technological means has emerged as a compelling option to address the climate crisis. These technologies, also referred to as “climate interventions” and “geoengineering,” are designed to deliver targeted climate benefits by manipulating natural environmental processes.6 Considering the oceans’ role in stabilizing the earth’s climate, a substantial portion of geoengineering research has focused on the marine environment, a field known as marine geoengineering (MGE).7
In alignment with recent calls that “more ambition on nature restoration is needed,”8 one emerging ensemble of techniques of MGE, particularly relevant for the Arctic Ocean, is sea ice geoengineering (SIGE). In the Arctic, sea ice is disappearing at an alarming rate of 12 percent per decade,9 with projections indicating ice-free summers by the 2030s, regardless of emission reduction efforts.10 The dramatic reduction of the Arctic cryosphere is catastrophically transforming Arctic ecosystems and stands as one of the most striking indicators of climate change.11 This change has profound impacts on both ice-dependent species and Arctic communities, such as the Inuit Indigenous peoples, who heavily rely on the ice and identify themselves as “a people of the cryosphere.”12 Considering that the Arctic Ocean constitutes a critical component of the earth’s climate system, with its sea ice acting as a “global thermostat”,13 SIGE interventions can be perceived as efforts to restore the Arctic Ocean, as restoring the ice could contribute to “reversing degraded ecosystems […] in order to regain ecological balance.”14 As affirmed by international tribunals, restoring marine ecosystems may constitute a due diligence obligation for states and a form of restitution, aligning with their obligation to make full reparation for the injury caused by their internationally wrongful acts.15
The restoration of marine ecosystems can be passive, which involves simply removing disturbances and stressors to allow ocean ecosystems to recover on their own. This approach can help degraded habitats bounce back naturally.16 On the other hand, marine restoration can be active, referring to deliberate measures taken to stabilize or accelerate the recovery of damaged ecosystems, often through technological interventions.17 SIGE is thus increasingly emerging as a new category of climate intervention that renders the Arctic marine cryosphere a critical site for investigating the feasibility of novel technologies in order to actively restore sea ice.
SIGE refers to a compilation of techniques aimed at harnessing the Arctic marine cryosphere for the purpose of positively contributing to the preservation of cryospheric ecosystems. Most commonly, ongoing SIGE research focuses on enhancing solar radiation management through ice thickening. This method involves pumping seawater onto sea ice during winter to flood it with water, which could then freeze and increase its thickness, thereby restoring melted ice and potentially reducing the pace of melting during warmer months. Dutch startup Arctic Reflections B.V. has conducted laboratory experiments and field tests in Svalbard to explore the feasibility of this technique.18 In a similar vein, since 2024, the UK-based company RealIce has been testing ice-thickening methods in Cambridge Bay, Canada. Building on ongoing experiments, RealIce aims to increase ice thickness across approximately 386,000 square miles of the Arctic Ocean.19 Another method of SIGE involves spreading reflective materials on sea ice surfaces to increase their albedo and reflect more sunlight in order to reduce melting. This approach has been previously employed by the Arctic Ice Project, which, in collaboration with Norwegian SINTEF and other partners, spent the past few years experimenting with spreading silica crystals (quartz) on ice.20 At a theoretical level, several other techniques of climate intervention have been proposed for manipulating the cryosphere, although they have not yet been experimentally explored. These potential technologies, some of which could also relate to future Arctic SIGE endeavors, include constructing artificial barriers or underwater walls to block warm ocean currents from melting ice,21 using stabilization techniques to anchor ice to the seabed and prevent collapse,22 and re-freezing sea water to create modular icebergs, using autonomous submarine-like vessels.23
Consequently, the primary objective of SIGE is to mitigate the impacts of climate change, slow its progression, and repair some of the damage already caused in the marine cryosphere and associated ecosystems. Considering that the continued thawing of Arctic sea ice has proven to have harmful effects on the global climate and the broader marine environment, interventions such as restoring the Arctic sea ice coverage or even enhancing the positive externalities of the remaining ice could be instrumental in preventing further damage driven by rising GHG emissions and contributing to states’ climate targets under international law. Moreover, unlike global climate interventions, which differ from traditional mitigation or adaptation strategies, Arctic-specific and locally applied geoengineering methods, such as SIGE, are often perceived as less disruptive to complex physical systems on a global scale.24
While investments on SIGE research are incrementally taking place and climate interventions are often portrayed as “essential to save the Arctic”,25 the field currently lacks a comprehensive regulatory framework and remains highly controversial, as it raises numerous legal, environmental and ethical concerns.26 Restoration of melting sea ice is accompanied by resource opportunities of an extractive nature, and SIGE research is predominantly driven by private actors themselves who have expressed their interest in “seeding an ice growing industry”.27 Considering the increasing role of “tech giants” in driving scientific research in our times, SIGE initiatives could arguably be perceived as efforts to further expand exploitative uses of ocean spaces, which could result in adverse socio-ecological impacts.28
Against this backdrop, the project of restoring the Arctic marine cryosphere through SIGE invites a mode of critical reflection on the regulatory environment surrounding sea ice restoration via climate interventions. In this article, we aim to critically examine SIGE as a potential restoration measure in the Arctic Ocean, drawing on the advisory opinions on climate change issued by the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) and the ICJ. This article answers the fundamental question: Could SIGE be an appropriate measure to restore the Arctic marine environment as part of states’ obligations under international law? To address this question, we pursue a law-in-context analysis,29 employing the theory of cryopolitics (from the Greek kruos/κρύος, meaning “frost,” and politics) as our main theoretical lens. Cryopolitics highlights the emerging (bio)politics of the cryosphere, where the manipulation of frozen states through technological means becomes a strategic tool for sovereign states and private actors.30 Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos reminds us that law cannot be understood outside the political and socio-cultural context within which it emerges and operates.31 As such, the obligation of states to restore the marine environment, when applied to Arctic sea ice, should not be perceived in isolation from the broader context within which SIGE is situated and currently expanding in the Arctic.
Accordingly, the second section of this article offers an introduction to the theory of cryopolitics, exploring its fundamental tenet, cryopower, and its relevance in exploring the regulation of sea ice restoration under international law. This establishes the theoretical foundation for our critical engagement with SIGE, framing the marine cryosphere both as a subject of environmental restoration amidst climate change and a target for manipulation by cryopower. The third section then unpacks the existing legal framework that establishes legal obligations to restore Arctic sea ice. To do so, we explain why the legal obligation to restore the marine environment becomes relevant to sea ice as part of the due diligence obligations of states, and then we explore whether sea ice restoration can be further regarded as a form of restitution, given the established consequences for states breaching their climate obligations. Through this investigation, we note that under due diligence obligations, international law grants states a distinct form of power—referred to as “cryopower”—to artificially manipulate the Arctic Ocean with the purpose of ultimately restoring its frozen state. We thus argue that international law at first glance can function as a technology of cryopolitics by providing an avenue that facilitates and even encourages the active restoration of the Arctic marine cryosphere. In turn, the fourth section examines the issue of sea ice restoration in the context of SIGE and addresses the main research question. We observe that SIGE, in its current state of development, fails to meet the criteria for legal classification as a restoration measure as outlined in the advisory opinions, owing to the uncertainty surrounding its feasibility and potential unintended consequences. Finally, we contend that, even with technological advancements enhancing the feasibility of SIGE, its application remains constrained by the precautionary approach required by international law, as long as scientific uncertainty persists. We demonstrate that international law imposes limitations on the uncontrolled expansion of cryopower in the Arctic through climate interventions. In approaching the legal discourse surrounding SIGE through a cryopolitical lens, this article offers a timely new perspective on the role of international law in the regulation of climate interventions in the Arctic.
Asserting Power Through Sea Ice Restoration: A Cryopolitical Framework
Perhaps the most formidable obstacle ever encountered by the inquisitive human spirit, that barrier of millennial, if not primaeval ice which, in a wide and compact wall, enshrouds the mysteries of the North Pole.(Roald Amundsen, The Northwest Passage)32
Historically, the Arctic Ocean, its cryosphere, and its living entities were stigmatized as a barren, fundamentally “other” realm. They existed outside the boundaries of civilization, favourable living conditions, navigable seas, and ultimately, life itself.33 Today, the naturally occurring frozen state of the Arctic marine cryosphere is no longer a “formidable obstacle” and “primaeval barrier.” Sea ice is increasingly being integrated into the realm of extractive imaginaries, political and climate agendas, financial institutions and global markets.34 A formerly wild cryosphere now bows to human will.
Although SIGE research has emerged within the last decade, the ability to harness the cryosphere via technological means is not new. The earliest known written process to artificially create ice dates to the 13th-century writings of Arab historian Ibn Abu Usaybia.35 Since 1913, when the first freezer was invented, artificial cooling systems have been rapidly expanding to fulfill human needs and desires across the world. Technological advancements over the 20th century have provided human societies with a wide array of tools to manipulate cryospheric ecosystems, ranging from the large-scale expansion of industrial cooling systems in urban climates to the use of artificial snow in alpine regions for recreational purposes, and most recently, to the capacity to engineer the cryosphere for restoring ecosystem services.36
Against this background, the ongoing efforts to artificially control and preserve Arctic sea ice through geoengineering techniques invite a critical examination of the context underpinning the restoration of the marine cryosphere via climate interventions, particularly through the lens of cryopolitics. The concept of cryopolitics refers to the radical socio-material shifts brought about by technologies that generate low temperatures. The neologism was first used in a limited sense to broadly describe geopolitical competition between sovereign states to control emerging resources and spatialities created by the melting cryosphere.37 More recently, the concept has been broadly utilized in different contexts and across a variety of disciplines.38 In this discussion, we build on the Foucauldian interpretation of the term, as initially developed by Radin, Kowal and colleagues, who expanded the notion of cryopolitics beyond the geopolitical implications of the melting cryosphere to include its biopolitical dimension: the ways in which the cryosphere is manipulated and instrumentalized through state policy, corporate extraction, and biotechnology.39 As they put it, cryopolitics encapsulates “the large-scale socioecological arrangement that has emerged with the power provided by the ability to harness and control cold” and the way it has “fundamentally shaped modern ways of life.”40 Cryopolitics thus aims to capture the profound transformations in spatio-temporal arrangements within contemporary societies, driven by various cryogenic processes and the pivotal role they play in shaping life in the 21st century.41 It puts the engagement with frozen states (including, inter alia, cold temperatures, polar regions, glaciers, ice shelves, sea ice and permafrost) in the center of the spectrum of inquiry.
A central concept in cryopolitics is cryopower, which is derived from Foucault’s discourse on biopower.42 Foucault argued that, in the beginning of the 18th century, a new form of power emerged. Unlike traditional sovereign power, defined by the right to kill, biopower focuses on managing “biological populations” and controlling life processes.43 In this process, “the basic biological features of the human species became the object of a political strategy.”44 As controlling frozen states gradually evolves into a strategic instrument for states and private actors to project power over the cryosphere, the material and conceptual, including legal, technologies applied to frozen states have come to embody a distinct biopolitics of the cryosphere: a cryopolitics.45 If biopower in a Foucauldian sense operates to manage biological populations,46 then cryopower manifested through ice restoration constructs a sphere of being where natural and artificial cooling processes are deliberately converged and governed. As a result, the Arctic marine cryosphere is artificially “made to live” yet “disallowed to die” in the shadow of anthropogenic climate change.47
Cryopower manifests in multiplicity, as the exertion of power over frozen states may take various forms. Different strands of cryopolitics include studies in relation to cryopreservation and cryogenic techniques,48 capitalist imaginaries in the context of cold chains and refrigerators,49 and biospecimen collections in relation to Indigenous peoples and coloniality,50 among others. We approach SIGE as one additional modality of cryopolitics, as the retreating Arctic cryosphere concurrently emerges as a symbolic and material marker of global warming and a lucrative site for intervention and manipulation through sea ice restoration measures. Cryopolitics therefore invites a deep theoretical reflection on the newly recognized value of Arctic sea ice in our times and critically engages with the incentive to restore it.51 This necessitates a critical examination of SIGE techniques, alongside the legal framework applicable to sea ice restoration.
While existing theoretical approaches within the spectrum of cryopolitics provide critical reflections on how the cryosphere enters the purview of power, as well as its ontological significance in driving the development of the governance of frozen states, they have not, thus far, set legal accountability for these relations.52 As various intriguing SIGE methods are increasingly proposed as environmental restoration techniques, it is hence insightful to address the relationship of international law with cryopower in the context of sea ice restoration through geoengineering. In a manner analogous to the regulation of life processes in biopolitics, the cryopolitics of SIGE elucidates how cryospheric ecosystems can be strategically instrumentalized under international law to serve specific objectives of climate intervention. As we explain below, sea ice restoration necessitates that sovereign states assert power over the cryosphere to ensure it is both conceptually and materially subjugated. International law therefore functions as a conceptual technology to project cryopower over sea ice through the regulation of sea ice restoration, accompanying the optimal manipulation of cryospheric materialities through technological means.
This optimization, however, is arguably selective, as cryopower reflects and perpetuates certain interests embedded in the social, political, and economic systems in which it operates.53 The increasing interest of private actors in SIGE bears the risk of advancing potential extractive objectives in the Arctic, with minimal consideration of its socio-ecological impacts. This underscores the necessity of engaging with how cryopower permeates the normativity of international law, in order to demonstrate that SIGE cannot expand in a legal vacuum. Cryopolitics in our study thus includes both the application of emerging geoengineering technologies onto the Arctic marine cryosphere, and the existing normative landscapes (treaties, principles and legal doctrines) that play out to facilitate or control the expansion of cryopower. As the Arctic Ocean undergoes rapid environmental transformations, and SIGE research and aspirations for future deployment incrementally increase, cryopolitics offers a critical lens through which to examine the interplay between material frozen states and the legal dilemma of whether sea ice should be artificially restored or not through geoengineering.
The Legal Obligation to Restore Sea Ice: International Law as a Technology of Cryopolitics
Whether perceived in the context of SIGE or through other restoration methods,54 Arctic sea ice restoration does not occur in a legal void. International law, we contend, is inherently cryopolitical: The physical manipulation of frozen states for the purpose of their preservation or restoration requires their conceptual manipulation through legal frameworks. In that regard, the obligation to restore ecosystems has recently been brought to the spotlight through advisory opinions issued by ITLOS and the ICJ, addressing the obligations of states in respect to climate change. Although they adopted slightly different lines of reasoning, both courts considered that measures to restore ecosystems may be expected from states as part of their due diligence obligations to protect and preserve the environment. In addition, the ICJ opined that environmental restoration is relevant in terms of the consequences of a breach of climate change obligations, considering it to be a form of “restitution”. The following two subsections showcase that degradation of Arctic sea ice caused by climate change necessitates that states adopt measures, which may include measures for environmental restoration of marine ecosystems. In this context, we view international law as a modality of cryopolitics, as it seems to encourage sea ice restoration to take place and enable the optimal utilization of the Arctic marine cryosphere via technological means.
The Due Diligence Obligation to Restore Arctic Sea Ice
The 2024 ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change is the most relevant starting point for assessing whether international law may require, or support, sea ice-restoration measures in the Arctic.55 In answering the question as to the specific obligations of states parties to the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS)56 to protect and preserve the marine environment in relation to climate change impacts—including ocean warming, sea level rise and ocean acidification—ITLOS recognized the existence of an obligation to restore the marine environment. The judges found that the obligation of restoration is part of the broader obligation to protect and preserve the marine environment under Article 192 of UNCLOS:
Where the marine environment has been degraded, the Tribunal is of the view that the term “preservation” may include restoring marine habitats and ecosystems. The term “restoration” is not used in article 192 of the Convention but flows from the obligation to preserve the marine environment where the process of reversing degraded ecosystems is necessary in order to regain ecological balance.57
A fundamental preliminary question, however, arises as to whether sea ice and the broader marine cryosphere fall within the concept of the “marine environment.” Article 1(4) of UNCLOS indirectly defines that environment by reference to marine waters, the airspace above them, the seabed and subsoil, and their living resources and ecosystems, but does not expressly mention sea ice.58 We must therefore demonstrate that the thawing of sea ice owing to climate change corresponds to a form of degradation of the “marine environment” under UNCLOS.
Notably, UNCLOS gives only limited consideration to the legal status of sea ice. Historically viewed as an obstacle to Arctic navigation and resource exploitation, sea ice has generated only limited legal interest.59 Legal focus on the marine cryosphere only began to emerge since the onset of industrialization and the first efforts to territorialize ice-covered coasts of the Arctic Ocean.60 Unlike the rest of the globe, sovereign entitlements at sea were initially constrained in the polar regions, arguably owing to technological limitations and the incapacity to effectively occupy and extract resources from ice-covered coasts.61 With technological advancements in underwater navigational technology and enhanced vessel capabilities in polar waters, Arctic states progressively projected authority seawards, taming the Arctic Ocean space both materially and legally.62 This has allowed the process of territorialization to also develop icewards in the Arctic, predicated on the legal axiom that sovereignty on land could also expand to coastal waters, including those covered by sea ice.63 To this end, the emergence of cryotechnologies in the 20th century as a vital tool for exerting power tangibly over the marine cryosphere was complemented by the conceptual projection of this power through juridical means.
Such developments ultimately culminated in the negotiations that led to the adoption of Article 234, the Arctic exception of UNCLOS, which is the only provision of the Convention specifically targeting frozen areas of the marine environment.64 Article 234 grants additional unilateral “power” to coastal states in terms of regulating international shipping within ice-covered areas of their exclusive economic zones (EEZs), “for the prevention, reduction and control of marine pollution from vessels” (other than warships and government vessels).65 The provision also allows these coastal states to determine which waters are considered frozen, in response to the dynamic nature of the sea ice cover that varies over the year or season.66 As the Virginia Commentary on the law of the sea explains, under Article 234 of UNCLOS, sea ice includes all types of ice that can be encountered in the marine environment.67 Basically, UNCLOS does not distinguish ice from water, disregarding its constant material transformation in space and time. Under this provision, Arctic states like Canada68 and the Russian Federation69 have enforced national regulations within their EEZs, extending their jurisdiction iceward. Consequently, international law approaches sea ice with a certain continuity, yet without specificity. Article 234 does not depreciate the reality that the Arctic Ocean remains subject to the general legal regime of the world’s oceans. Meanwhile, sea ice that extends beyond the EEZ of the Arctic littoral states is legally seen as water belonging to the high seas.70 While states might continue to utilize sea ice in the Arctic high seas as if it were land, by establishing infrastructure for purposes of scientific research71 or even tourism operations during the summer months,72 the legal imaginary of the high seas conceptualizes them as pure “water” where certain freedoms apply.73 As a result, there is no dedicated legal regime for regulating sea ice, which is mainly perceived as a “spatial domain” belonging to preexisting maritime zones.74
The continuity between water and ice in the law of the sea, and the fact that ice still falls ratione materiae under UNCLOS, as evidenced by Article 234, argues in favor of legally including ice-covered areas of the Arctic Ocean within the notion of the “marine environment”. Given sea ice’s integral physical and ecological relationship with the Arctic Ocean, including its role in marine ecosystems, ocean–atmosphere interactions, salinity, circulation, and the habitats of ice-dependent species, sea ice can be understood as an essential component of the marine environment whose protection UNCLOS requires. In addition, Article 192 and more generally Part XII of UNCLOS apply to all maritime zones, including those covered by sea ice. This argument has been reiterated by ITLOS, as the Advisory Opinion on Climate Change emphasized it in the context of climate change impacts and the obligation to restore degraded marine habitats and ecosystems.75 Consequently, the rationale of the Tribunal can be applied to Arctic sea ice, and its degradation may therefore require the restoration of marine habitats and ecosystems, that is, the cryospheric marine environment.
ITLOS further linked the obligation to protect and preserve the marine environment to climate change mitigation measures. More precisely, the Advisory Opinion acknowledged the dual significance of Article 192 of UNCLOS. In addition to promoting the conservation and resilience of living marine resources, the obligation to protect and preserve the marine environment also contributes to mitigating anthropogenic GHG emissions “by enhancing carbon sequestration through measures to restore the marine environment”.76 Thus, the Tribunal established a clear link between UNCLOS and climate obligations—including those under the Paris Agreement.77
ITLOS’s rationale indicates that protecting and preserving the marine environment involves measures aimed at restoring that environment, which, in turn, contribute to climate mitigation and support states’ implementation of obligations under the Paris Agreement (Article 5(1)) and the UNFCCC (Article 4(1)(d)).78 The general obligation set forth in Article 192 of UNCLOS hence involves combating “any form of degradation of the marine environment, including climate change impacts”,79 but states may still be required to restore marine habitats and ecosystems where the marine environment has been “degraded”.80 The Tribunal concluded that this is an obligation of due diligence.81
Notably, in the Advisory Opinion of ITLOS, the obligation to restore the marine environment is affirmed for the first time by an international tribunal in the context of environmental degradation owing to climate change.82 The Tribunal’s language is nonetheless cautious: It states that environmental degradation may require restoration measures, but not that these measures are absolutely necessary.83 The threshold for this obligation is met “where the process of reversing degraded ecosystems is necessary in order to regain ecological balance”.84 This metric should also probably be read in line with the standard of due diligence being “stringent, given the high risks of serious and irreversible harm to the marine environment from climate change impacts and ocean acidification.”85
The legal obligation to restore the marine environment can also be traced from ICJ jurisprudence. The Court was tasked in 2023 by the UN General Assembly to clarify the obligations of states under international law to ensure the protection of the climate system and other parts of the environment from anthropogenic GHG emissions.86 It is in response to this issue that the first instance of the notion of “restoration” also appears in the ICJ’s Advisory Opinion on climate change. Restoration is explicitly envisaged by the Court as part of “adaptation options” based on the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) reports.87 The ICJ decided that states party to the Paris Agreement have adaptation obligations and that their fulfilment “is to be assessed against a standard of due diligence”.88 The Advisory Opinion then affirms:
It is therefore incumbent upon parties to enact appropriate measures (examples of which are provided in Article 7, paragraph 9 [of the Paris Agreement]) that are capable of “enhancing adaptive capacity, strengthening resilience and reducing vulnerability to climate change” (Article 7, paragraph 1 [of the Paris Agreement]). In this connection, parties must use their best efforts, in line with the best available science, with a view to achieving the aforementioned objectives. In this regard, the Court observes that the IPCC noted in 2023 that adaptation is a particularly pressing challenge in responding to climate change and that adaptation options exist that are effective in reducing climate risks in certain contexts, such as restoration of ecosystems […].89
Thus, it is made clear by the Court that the obligations of states to take adaptation measures are based on a standard of conduct, even when derived from the Paris Agreement. The language closely resembles that used by the ICJ earlier in the Opinion, where it outlined the elements required by due diligence—a standard of conduct that obliges states to adopt, to the best of their abilities and depending on their capacities as well as on scientific and technological information, appropriate and, if necessary, precautionary measures, along with relevant rules and international standards.90
Further in the Advisory Opinion,91 in the section referring to the obligations of states under customary international law, the ICJ referenced its decision in the Pulp Mills case to reiterate that due diligence requires a state
to use all means at its disposal in order to avoid activities which take place in its territory, or in any area under its jurisdiction, causing significant damage to the environment of another State.92
The Court then elaborated on the content of due diligence in the context of climate change. It explained that the measures adopted by states under this standard can be—but are not limited to—regulatory mitigation mechanisms designed to reduce GHG emissions to prevent significant harm to the climate system, and that “[a]daptation measures reduce the risk of significant harm occurring and are therefore also relevant for assessing whether a State is fulfilling its customary obligations with due diligence.”93
In its analysis of “due diligence as the required standard of conduct,”94 the Court further clarified what is expected of states concerning the utilization of available technologies. According to the ICJ:
The availability of technological means to prevent or mitigate relevant harm influences what can reasonably be expected of a State. Where a risk can be addressed with readily available technologies, States are expected to use them.95
In this regard, the development of SIGE technologies raises the question of whether states could be expected to consider or even deploy them to restore Arctic sea ice and its diminishing properties. Indeed, this could contribute to reducing the risk of significant harm occurring to the environment, as Arctic sea ice is key to the climate system, and its melting, caused by climate change, has been shown to accelerate further warming, resulting in a vicious circle.96 In light of climate change, the risk of significant environmental harm is thus clear, and calls for due diligence. Hence, restoring sea ice becomes relevant for parties to the Paris Agreement in meeting their adaptation obligations,97 and more broadly for all states, since it can contribute to complying with their due diligence customary obligations to prevent significant harm to the climate system.
In sum, the two advisory opinions establish that marine restoration allows states to satisfy their climate mitigation obligations under customary law and the Paris Agreement, as well as their obligation to preserve and protect the marine environment under UNCLOS. Moreover, when read together, the advisory opinions reinforce each other. States must reduce their GHG emissions to protect the marine environment, and are expected to take measures to restore it, including by using readily available technologies. Because the melting of Arctic sea ice constitutes a serious degradation of the marine environment—driven by, and conversely accelerating, climate change—the risk of irreversible harm is serious and exceptionally high. Consequently, due diligence may entail an obligation for states to restore this ice. In addition, the obligation to restore can also be derived from the rules of state responsibility. As elaborated below, the ICJ identified ecosystem restoration as a mandatory legal consequence when a state causes significant environmental harm via an internationally wrongful act.
Arctic Sea Ice Restoration as a Form of Restitution
The second question the ICJ had to address in its Advisory Opinion on the obligations of states with respect to climate change concerned the
legal consequences under these obligations for States where they, by their acts and omissions, have caused significant harm to the climate system and other parts of the environment.98
With regard to the term “legal consequences,” the Court observed that, in general, it refers to the “application of the secondary rules of international law concerning the responsibility of States for internationally wrongful acts,”99 and that it “attaches to, and flows from, the commission” of such acts.100 In this part of the Advisory Opinion, the Court heavily relied on the International Law Commission (ILC) Articles on the Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, since they are considered as reflective, in many respects, of the customary rules on that matter.101 These articles establish that “every internationally wrongful act of a State entails the international responsibility of that State”.102
Therefore, the international responsibility of a state arises from the breach of an international obligation by an act or omission attributable to that state.103 Such responsibility may incur even where GHG emissions are produced by private actors, since the primary obligations of states with respect of climate change “include the obligation to regulate the activities of private actors as a matter of due diligence”.104 It is important to highlight that both acts and omissions are hence decisive in the context of climate change because many such international obligations are obligations of conduct:
With regard to obligations under customary international law, the Court observes that the most significant primary obligation for States in relation to climate change is the obligation to prevent significant harm to the climate system and other parts of the environment […]. Under this obligation, as well as under other obligations of conduct identified under question (a), a State does not incur responsibility simply because the desired result is not achieved; rather, responsibility is incurred if the State fails to take all measures which were within its power to prevent the significant harm. In this connection, the notion of due diligence, which calls for an assessment in concreto, is the relevant standard for determining compliance […].105
Consequently, it is not the harm or the GHG emissions per se that are decisive in determining the responsibility of a state, but rather, the state’s acts or omissions causing significant harm in breach of international obligations.106 The ICJ expressly clarified this, explaining that under the customary obligation to prevent significant harm to the climate system and other parts of the environment—as well as under other obligations of conduct the judges identified under question (a)—a state incurs responsibility on the basis of its failure to take “all measures which were within its power to prevent significant harm”, and not “simply because the desired result is not achieved”.107 A connection is then expressly made with the notion of due diligence, which stands as the “relevant standard for determining compliance” and involves an assessment in concreto for the performance of its obligations.108 Where a breach of any of these primary obligations is found, the state to which it is attributed commits an internationally wrongful act entailing its responsibility.109
However, the existence of damage is necessary to claim reparation.110 This damage must have been caused “factually and legally” by a state,111 and reparation may still be claimed even if it resulted from concurrent causes.112 In fact, “a responsible State is under an obligation to make full reparation for the damage caused by the internationally wrongful act”.113 Reparation is thus a legal consequence that can arise from the breach of an obligation in respect of climate change. It is meant to “wipe out all the consequences of the illegal act and reestablish the situation which would, in all probability, have existed if that act had not been committed”.114
Against this background, the Advisory Opinion examined various means of ensuring reparation. The ICJ listed restitution, compensation, satisfaction, or a combination thereof, as forms of reparation, and provided specific details for each.115 It is regarding restitution that the ICJ explicitly referred to the restoration of ecosystems and biodiversity damaged by GHG emissions as a form of reparation:
The Court observes that the remedy of restitution, which involves the re-establishment of the situation that existed before the wrongful act was committed, may prove difficult or unfeasible in the case of environmental harm, since such harm is often not easily reversible. Nonetheless, the Court considers that, in the circumstances of climate change caused by emissions of GHGs, restitution may take the form of reconstructing damaged or destroyed infrastructure, and restoring ecosystems and biodiversity. Whether or not these special forms of restitution are appropriate as reparation for damage suffered by States in relation to climate change is to be determined on a case-by-case basis. Such determinations cannot be made in the abstract.116
Therefore, if an internationally wrongful act is attributed to a state, and where causation establishes the existence of a nexus between this act and the injury suffered by states or individuals,117 the responsible state is obliged to provide reparation, which may take the form of restoring ecosystems. Yet, the ILC specifies that although a responsible state is under the obligation to make restitution, two exceptions should be taken into account: if that restitution is materially impossible, or if it involves “a burden out of all proportion to the benefit deriving from restitution instead of compensation.”118 The Advisory Opinion confirmed the latter by emphasizing that “in the event that restitution should prove to be materially impossible, responsible States have an obligation to compensate.”119 On this occasion, the Court also took the opportunity to reiterate its position in the Certain Activities Carried Out by Nicaragua in the Border Area case, emphasizing that compensation for environmental damage is owed both for damage caused to the environment “in and of itself” and for the expenses incurred by the injured states as a consequence.120
Furthermore, it must be noted that the ICJ considered the obligations relating to climate change to be erga omnes121:
all States have a common interest in the protection of global environmental commons like the atmosphere and the high seas. Consequently, States’ obligations pertaining to the protection of the climate system and other parts of the environment from anthropogenic GHG emissions, in particular the obligation to prevent significant transboundary harm under customary international law, are obligations erga omnes.122
The literature has noted, however, that this may not apply to all obligations identified by the ICJ, as the Advisory Opinion is not entirely clear regarding the erga omnes nature of treaty obligations. This ambiguity arises from the Court’s specification that the legal interest of all states parties lies in the protection of the “main mitigation obligations set forth in the climate change treaties.”123 Yet, it is evident from the language of the Court that, at the very least, the obligation to prevent significant transboundary harm under customary international law constitutes one of the erga omnes obligations. As a result, any state may invoke the responsibility of a state in breach of such obligations, as these are owed to the international community as a whole.124 The obligation of reparation must, however, be carried out in the interest of the injured state or of the beneficiaries of the obligations breached.125
In the Arctic, sea ice melt directly stems from a breach of state obligations to mitigate climate change. Given that scientific evidence links sea ice melt to anthropogenic climate change, the ICJ identified several relevant obligations in this context, most notably the customary duty to prevent significant transboundary harm, alongside obligations contained, inter alia, in the Paris Agreement and UNCLOS. These obligations apply to the protection of Arctic sea ice, particularly in relation to GHG emissions that cause transboundary harm. As the marine cryosphere is essential for both the climate system and the high seas environment as global environmental commons, the obligation to prevent significant harm to this ecosystem and the main mitigation obligations set forth in the climate change treaties are, according to the Court’s reasoning, erga omnes. Thus, any state—whether Arctic or non-Arctic—has a legal interest in invoking the responsibility of another state in response to a breach of an erga omnes obligation. Moreover, damage to sea ice can result in harm to Arctic populations, especially Indigenous communities dependent on ice.126 This harm implies that human rights violations may ensue, such as breaches of the right to life, the right to a healthy and sustainable environment, and the right to privacy, among others.127 As beneficiaries of these obligations, individuals and groups, such as Indigenous peoples, could then also have an interest in taking legal action domestically or before international bodies where such rights exist.
However, to claim reparation the injured party must establish causation between the melting of sea ice and the breach of one of these obligations. According to the judges of the ICJ, causation in the context of climate change involves two distinct elements.128 The first one necessitates attributing a climatic event to anthropogenic climate change.129 In the case of sea ice melting, this is substantiated by scientific evidence.130 The second element involves determining “to what extent damage caused by climate change can be attributed to a particular State or group of States”.131 The Court was of the view that the identification of a causal link between wrongful actions or omissions must be assessed in concreto, but that identifying a link is not impossible in the context of climate change,132 as long as it is “sufficiently direct and certain”.133 Consequently, and following the reasoning of the ICJ in the case of Certain Activities Carried Out by Nicaragua in the Border Area, the causal nexus between the wrongful act and the injury resulting in and from sea ice melting in the Arctic should be addressed on a case by case basis “in light of the facts of the case at hand and the evidence presented to the Court.”134 If a causal link is sufficiently direct and certain, the responsible state is obliged to provide full reparation for the damage to sea ice. The obligation to make restitution could then involve restoring the ice. Nevertheless, restoration may prove to be materially impossible or may impose a burden disproportionate to the benefit derived from it compared to compensation as an alternative form of reparation.135
To conclude, the restoration of sea ice becomes highly relevant in the context of climate change. States could be required to restore sea ice either under the obligations to prevent harm to the marine environment or under the obligation to make restitution for an injury caused by their internationally wrongful act or omission. In this context, through the wording of both advisory opinions, international law functions as a vessel for cryopower to unfold in the sense that it encourages the search for technological solutions to restore the Arctic marine cryosphere. At first glance, one may argue that this provides an avenue for cryopower to also manifest through SIGE, thereby legitimizing sea ice restoration through geoengineering as a climate obligation. Yet, as discussed below, the deployed measures of sea ice restoration, including SIGE, must themselves meet the requirements of international law. In this sense, and in view of the current scientific uncertainty surrounding SIGE, we observe below that international law actually appears to be more of a force of resistance to the uncontrollable unfolding of cryopower in the Arctic Ocean via climate interventions.
Sea Ice Restoration Through Geoengineering? The Role of Law in Resisting Cryopower
While SIGE represents a potential avenue for expanding cryopower over ice-covered environments through restoration measures, the outstanding question is whether SIGE satisfies the legal criteria for “restoration”. We have thus far demonstrated that international law may impose obligations to restore the Arctic marine environment, including ice-covered areas of the Arctic Ocean, encouraging respective initiatives. To this end, these obligations do not amount to granting carte blanche to experiment with the climate and ecosystems through geoengineering. As we show below, given the current state of technical and scientific knowledge surrounding geoengineering, it is doubtful that SIGE could be classified as “restoration” owing to concerns regarding its technological and economic feasibility and the potential risks that its application could pose to Arctic socio-ecological systems. Even with technological advancements that might enhance SIGE’s effectiveness and feasibility in the future, the potential large-scale deployment of climate interventions is still restricted by law owing to remaining concerns about environmental harm, stakeholder participation and other regulatory challenges. Additionally, SIGE is further restricted by the precautionary approach, which emphasizes caution in the face of uncertainty. International law therefore imposes its own restrictions on the expansion of cryopower through geoengineering.
Evaluating Whether SIGE Qualifies as “Restoration”
“Polar ice restoration should be considered in planning of 1.5 °C pathways.”(ICE911, 2018)136
Whether naturally formed or artificially created, preserving a frozen state necessitates continuous technical intervention.137 Critics of technological climate cooling have argued both that it remains an unattainable goal in the face of rapid global warming, and/or that large-scale geoengineering involves unacceptable risks.138 Yet, with the advent of SIGE, some critics have gradually come to see a more viable approach to artificially restoring the Arctic Ocean’s frozen environment.139 It is therefore important to review whether SIGE can qualify as a “restoration” measure according to international law.
Although environmental restoration is emerging as a key element of states’ obligations in relation to climate change, as reflected in the advisory opinions of ITLOS and the ICJ, the concept lacks a legal definition. For the sake of legal clarity, a few conclusions can nonetheless be drawn from the advisory opinions analyzed above. Notably, ITLOS provided guidance by asserting that restoration “flows from the obligation to preserve the marine environment where the process of reversing degraded ecosystems is necessary in order to regain ecological balance.”140 In the previous section, we referred to this as the threshold at which the obligation to restore applies. This threshold, however, only holds significance if restoration is understood as a process aimed at reversing degraded ecosystems and restoring ecological balance. Restoration hence goes beyond intervention; it involves addressing the root causes of ecological harm and implementing measures to return ecosystems to a state of functionality and ecological resilience. Thus, the threshold for restoration must be grounded in a broader ecological perspective to ensure meaningful and lasting outcomes. Ecosystem restoration would otherwise be irrelevant, and the Tribunal’s wording misleading.
The ICJ considered ecosystem restoration to be an adaptation measure. Using the IPCC glossary, the Court defined adaptation as a “process of adjustment to actual or expected climate and its effects, in order to moderate harm or exploit beneficial opportunities”.141 The Court then described restoration of ecosystems as an adaptation option that is “effective in reducing climate risks in certain contexts.”142 Without this understanding, the concept of restoration risks being reduced to superficial or temporary fixes, instead of a comprehensive effort to repair and sustain the natural environment against the backdrop of climate risks.
Furthermore, both the ICJ and ITLOS linked restoration to obligations set out in the Paris Agreement. In the ICJ Advisory Opinion, the Court viewed restoration of ecosystems as an adaptation measure that is capable of “enhancing adaptive capacity, strengthening resilience and reducing vulnerability to climate change” pursuant to Article 7(1) of the Paris Agreement.143 For its part, ITLOS held that measures to restore the marine environment could mitigate GHG emissions by improving carbon sequestration.144 The Tribunal referred to Article 5(1) of the Paris Agreement,145 which stipulates that “Parties should take action to conserve and enhance, as appropriate, sinks and reservoirs of greenhouse gases”,146 and mentioned Article 4(1) of the UNFCCC, which provides that parties shall promote sustainable management and collaborate to conserve and enhance sinks and reservoirs of GHG not regulated by the Montreal Protocol, such as oceans and other ecosystems.147
Thus, both advisory opinions identified criteria that are essential for assessing whether measures adopted by states adequately restore ecosystems in line with their obligations with respect to climate change. By contrast, when restoration is considered as a remedy (restitution) as referred to by the ICJ, it is imperative that it involves the “re-establishment of the situation that existed before the wrongful act was committed”.148
Against this background, both SIGE techniques currently employed at an experimental level appear to conceptually align with the notion of restoration, as sea ice restoration has been the stated ambition of companies involved in their development and promotion. In abstracto, ice thickening in the Arctic is a form of reversing a degraded ecosystem to its previous form. It involves freezing the marine cryosphere after a significant portion of ice has melted owing to climate change, with the ambition of regaining ecological balance and restoring ecosystem resilience. When it comes to SIGE through the spreading of silica beads on ice, the goal is to recover lost ecosystem services and maximise the effects of the remaining ice by enhancing its albedo. For both measures, the objective is therefore to adapt to the actual and projected climate conditions and their effects to mitigate harm, especially given the importance of Arctic sea ice in the climate system.149
Although SIGE is not intended to directly contribute to the reduction of GHG emissions, its overall aspiration is to mitigate the impacts, slow down the effects, and repair some of the damage caused by climate change. Since the ongoing thawing of the Arctic marine cryosphere has been proven deleterious to the global climate and, more broadly, to the marine environment, re-freezing the Arctic Ocean and/or optimizing the positive externalities of the remaining ice could help mitigate further significant harm caused by the rising GHG emissions.150 In that sense, re-freezing sea ice, along with increasing its albedo and recovering and enhancing its ecosystem properties within the climate system, could qualify as preservation, adaptation, and even restoration measures, in line with the ITLOS and ICJ advisory opinions on climate change, as well as the STATES’S obligations deriving, inter alia, from customary international law, the Paris Agreement and UNCLOS.
To determine whether SIGE is an environmental restoration measure in the context of climate change, the most crucial factor to assess is not its stated ambitions, but the actual effects it generates in its current state of development. Indeed, the criteria identified above imply a form of effectiveness in the so-called “restoration” measure: SIGE must demonstrate the ability to “adjust” to the climate and its effects, be “effective in reducing climate risks,” and be “capable of enhancing adaptive capacity, strengthening resilience and reducing vulnerability to climate change”. Additionally, it should contribute to mitigation efforts and “to conserve and enhance” sinks and reservoirs of GHG emissions. However, the lack of conclusive evidence regarding the effectiveness, feasibility, ecological impacts, and long-term outcomes of SIGE raises significant questions about whether it can genuinely be classified as “restoration” under international law. In that regard, both SIGE techniques experimentally explored to restore sea ice are facing controversies.
Ice thickening is confronted with criticism regarding its effectiveness and feasibility, in terms of both ice protection and climate change mitigation. Various techniques of ice thickening have thus far been considered, but there is, at best, no consensus on their viability.151 The Real Ice project, which currently employs ice-based pumps to thicken the ice at a local scale, has proposed deploying a fleet of automated, zero-emission underwater drones to scale up their operations.152 Yet the sheer number of drones needed for this project would be so immense that experts believe a revolution in battery technology would be necessary for its implementation.153 According to Desch et al., a buoy-mounted wind-pump system to thicken the ice “seems feasible to counteract the changes in the Arctic by deploying the devices over only 10% of the area of the Arctic Ocean.”154 While they acknowledge that their proposal would be costly, they further add that it is “within the means of governments to carry out on a scale comparable to the Manhattan Project.”155 Scientists argue that the effectiveness of this technique would require such a large development within a strict time frame that they doubt it would even be logistically or financially possible, and therefore “sea-ice thickening is simply not feasible for use at a scale and at a rate that would be meaningful for sea ice protection.”156 Desch et al. themselves further cast doubt on the feasibility of their proposed techniques by raising a series of questions, particularly regarding the scaling from a local to a regional level and whether SIGE would actually lead to local thickening of the ice over time.157 The influence of sea salt on this process is also uncertain, as salt contained in pumped water could cause sea ice to melt faster, thereby negating the benefit of thickening the ice with seawater.158 In addition, Desch et al. admit that the actual “effects of adding sea ice to the Arctic are completely unknown” as to the impacts of a general deployment of thickening devices on the Arctic climate.159 Consequently, the effectiveness of ice thickening in mitigating climate change remains highly uncertain.160
Furthermore, despite the potential of ongoing SIGE initiatives in contributing to sea ice restoration, significant concerns persist regarding their environmental impacts and long-term effects on Arctic socio-ecological systems. Evidence suggests that SIGE could potentially lead to substantial negative impacts on local and regional climates in the Arctic, harm biodiversity, particularly ice-dependent fauna and flora,161 and cause unforeseen changes in weather patterns that could adversely affect vulnerable communities, including Arctic Indigenous Peoples.162 Miller et al. highlight that ice thickening could significantly impact Arctic marine biochemistry. The process may release aerosols, altering atmospheric chemistry and temperatures, while also reducing light availability for photosynthesizing algae or disrupting algae production by relocating algae-rich waters onto the ice.163 Harming the algae that grow beneath the ice could harm the food chain, as algae are consumed by zooplankton, in turn eaten by fish, and ultimately by mammals.164 Seals and polar bears, which depend on both sea ice and snow, could further suffer consequences of ice thickening, notably in facing difficulties in making their dens during spring.165 Finally, consideration should be given to the significant human presence and technological equipment that would inevitably be deployed in such a particularly vulnerable environment.
In a similar vein, the scattering of silica beads to increase the albedo of sea ice raises questions of efficacy and feasibility. Webster and Warren argue that spreading hollow glass microspheres over all Arctic sea ice types would warm the climate and accelerate the loss of sea ice by darkening surfaces with reduced albedo.166 Additionally, potential issues with the dissolution of the beads would potentially diminish their efficacy.167 Moreover, the quantity of beads required is projected to be so large that doubts are expressed about the logistical feasibility of this technique, as well as its relevance, given the carbon emissions that would be generated during its implementation.168 The risks of ecological impacts are also considered, with uncertainty persisting regarding the hazards of ecotoxicity, especially its effects on zooplankton feeding behaviour, and on the Arctic Ocean’s surface owing to the impact of bead dissolution.169
Consequently, cryopower does not operate in a vacuum or proceed unchecked. The scientific uncertainty surrounding how sea ice restoration impacts the Arctic ecosystem has already triggered tangible consequences for ongoing SIGE projects. In February 2025, the Arctic Ice Project, which experimented with spreading reflective materials on sea ice, ceased its operations owing to potential risks identified in scientific testing, including the risk of ecotoxicological impacts on the Arctic food chain.170 Likewise, another company, the Bright Ice Initiative, which has been employing reflective materials to increase ice albedo, has deliberately excluded sea ice from its scope, conscious of the existing controversies surrounding interventions in the Arctic marine environment.171
Synthesizing this scientific review with our legal analysis reveals that SIGE interventions cannot be legally characterised as “restoration” measures, owing to the current uncertainty surrounding their scientific, logistical, and technical state. SIGE has not yet been proven to be effective in reversing degraded ecosystems to restore ecological balance, reduce climate risks, enhance adaptive capacity and strengthen resilience of ecosystems, or reduce sea ice’s vulnerability to climate change. On the contrary, the different techniques of SIGE could be deleterious to the environment. In that sense, and according to the interpretations of the ITLOS and ICJ advisory opinions with respect to climate change, using geoengineering as a measure to restore Arctic sea ice would not help states meet their due diligence obligations to protect and preserve the marine environment.
The same conclusion can be reached regarding restoration as a means of restitution. Currently, SIGE is not effective enough to refreeze significant parts of the Arctic marine cryosphere and the process is considered logistically and financially extremely costly, if not impossible. Thus, if it were proven that a state’s violation of its climate obligations had contributed to the melting of Arctic ice—which constitutes damage—this state could not be expected to use SIGE as a means of restitution. Notably, SIGE in its current stage of development appears to fall within the scope of the exceptions mentioned by the ILC to the restitution obligation,172 considering that it cannot physically re-establish the situation that existed before on a large scale, or at least not without creating a burden out of all proportion to the benefit deriving from restitution instead of compensation in case of damage.
Consequently, large-scale interventions to restore the Arctic environment cannot be legally regarded as a measure that can be expected from states to fulfil their duty to prevent significant harm to the environment with due diligence or their reparation obligations. This point is where we trace international law’s capacity to limit the uncontrollable unfolding of cryopower in the Arctic through geoengineering. While international law may delegate to states the power to manipulate the cryosphere through the obligation to restore the marine environment, this power is not fully realized in the context of SIGE. In fact, several reservations to this realization are stipulated by the criteria for restoration outlined in the two advisory opinions. International law thus streamlines and regulates cryopower, determining what measures can be classified as restoration. SIGE, in its present form, fails to meet these criteria.
From Scientific Uncertainty to Legal Precaution: Navigating the Future Cryopolitics of SIGE
Given the current scientific uncertainties surrounding SIGE and the pressing issues of climate change and ice thawing, controversies remain in scholarship on the merits of continuing geoengineering research in the Arctic. Siegert et al. argue that further research in geoengineering techniques is not an effective use of time and resources and point out the moral hazards (or “mitigation deterrence”) taking the form of complacency and predatory delay that can be associated with geoengineering.173 To them, “geoengineering proposals offer false hope that the effects of global warming can be avoided by means other than rapid, deep cuts to GHG emissions,” diverting attention from the critical priority of reducing these emissions.174 This approach is also echoed by Arctic Indigenous peoples, who have voiced concerns about proposed geoengineering solutions to combat climate change, declaring geoengineering a “false solution to climate change”.175 To quote Sarah Olsvig, the international chair of the Inuit Circumpolar Council (ICC):
when somebody approaches the Arctic and our homelands as Indigenous peoples and say[s], “We need your piece of land in the name of a greater good,” that’s exactly what happened when we were colonized.176
While some scholars contend that there is an urgent need to develop ethical approaches to SIGE and advocate for Indigenous-led climate actions,177 others argue that given the slow adoption of policies to address climate change, it is necessary to continue researching these unconventional practices. For example, Bodansky and Hunt acknowledge the uncertainties surrounding the different SIGE techniques but argue that they should be thoroughly investigated owing to the Arctic’s critical role in the climate system. Yet, they emphasize that these techniques should not be seen as a substitute for drastic action to reduce GHG emissions.178 Moore and al. also advocate along these lines, highlighting the insufficiency of political will for large-scale reductions in GHG emissions and criticizing Siegert et al. for undermining the “moral hazard of non-research.”179
In any case, provided that research continues to explore technologically and logistically feasible methods for restoring Arctic sea ice, international law should apply to such projects,180 particularly in light of the persistent risks of environmental impacts and potential human rights violations. Therefore, even if restoration is part of the due diligence obligations to protect the (marine) environment as explained above, international law does not exempt SIGE experiments from being subject to environmental standards, including the precautionary approach.
The precautionary approach, or principle, has been recognized by both ITLOS and the ICJ as part of states’ due diligence obligations in respect of the environment.181 It is crucial to consider how the precautionary approach would apply to climate interventions in the Arctic Ocean and contribute to mitigate the unfolding of cryopower through geoengineering. Within the ambit of environmental law, the precautionary approach and the principle of prevention have been described as being on the same continuum: “with the evolution of scientific knowledge and certainty, the obligation of precaution gradually becomes an obligation of prevention”.182 Indeed, Principle 15 of the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development states that in line with the precautionary approach, “where there are threats of serious or irreversible damage, lack of full scientific certainty shall not be used as a reason for postponing cost-effective measures to prevent environmental degradation”.183
As explained above, SIGE is not cost-effective in its current state of development. In addition, manipulating the Arctic marine cryosphere through geoengineering involves both scientific uncertainty and risk for serious or irreversible harm. Interestingly, in its Advisory Opinion in Respect of Activities in the Area, ITLOS asserted that the precautionary approach, as part of the due diligence obligation to prevent harm,
applies in situations where scientific evidence concerning the scope and potential negative impact of the activity in question is insufficient but where there are plausible indications of potential risks.184
This obligation therefore requires a state “to take all appropriate measures to prevent the damage that might result from [this] activity,” and disregarding these risks may breach the due diligence obligation to prevent harm.185 Given that SIGE could cause harm in the fragile ecosystems of the Arctic Ocean, states must comply with their due diligence obligations to prevent harm, and hence take all appropriate measures to prevent damage, conduct environmental impact assessments, cooperate with Arctic states and Indigenous communities, and notify these before authorizing the development of SIGE research.186 Ultimately, in case of any remaining uncertainty regarding the risk of serious or irreversible harm caused by such climate interventions (notably after the conduct of an environmental impact assessment,187 and in cooperation with other states), the precautionary approach would require states to adopt measures to prevent SIGE projects from degrading the Arctic environment. Plausible indications of the risks are sufficient, even in the absence of scientific certainty.
Conversely, it has been argued that refraining from geoengineering could also cause serious environmental harm,188 leading to a “self-defeating scenario” in the application of the precautionary approach in the sense that it “simultaneously calls for actions that it also prohibits”.189 Indeed, when it comes to climate change, the risk of significant harm to the environment is “undisputably established”.190 Thus, some scholars have argued that the risks associated with not intervening in the Arctic cryosphere should also be taken into account.191 This standpoint can also be traced back to the UNFCCC, which states:
The Parties should take precautionary measures to anticipate, prevent or minimize the causes of climate change and mitigate its adverse effects. Where there are threats of serious or irreversible damage, lack of full scientific certainty should not be used as a reason for postponing such measures, taking into account that policies and measures to deal with climate change should be cost-effective so as to ensure global benefits at the lowest possible cost.192
It is doubtful, however, that the precautionary approach is intended to allow a blindfolded fuite en avant with any type of climate engineering—particularly with SIGE, which, as noted above, has yet to demonstrate its “cost-efficiency”. This concern is further accentuated by the risk of states relying on technological fixes as a substitute for broader political action. In that regard, the ICJ was cautious in its Advisory Opinion on Climate Change regarding the use of new technologies to prevent or mitigate relevant harm: “When technologies pose further risks, States are expected to use them with prudence and caution.”193
ITLOS, for its part, directly addressed the issue of MGE. While also exercising a certain degree of caution regarding new technologies, the Tribunal emphasized that any MGE would be contrary to UNCLOS Article 195 if it resulted in transforming one form of pollution into another.194 It follows that states are under an obligation, pursuant to Article 196, to take all measures necessary to prevent, reduce and control marine pollution resulting from the use of technologies under their jurisdiction or control.195
This perspective appears to be reflected in the limited legal instruments that have been developed to address MGE. The precautionary approach in the governance of MGE also derives from the work of the Contracting Parties to the London Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter of 1972196 and its 1996 Protocol (LC/LP).197 Resolution LP.4(8) on the amendment to the London Protocol to regulate the placement of matter for ocean fertilization and other MGE activities expressly recalls the obligation to apply a precautionary approach to environmental protection.198 Article 6bis, which will enter into force if the amendment is ratified by sufficient contracting parties,199 prohibits the placement of matter into the sea for MGE activities listed in Annex 4, “unless the listing provides that the activity or the subcategory of an activity may be authorized under a permit.”200 The provision adds that such a permit shall only be issued after an assessment “has determined that pollution of the marine environment from the proposed activity is, as far as practicable, prevented or reduced to a minimum”201 and that “the activity is not contrary to the aims of the Protocol.”202
So far, only ocean fertilization appears in Annex 4, which regulates it by banning any deployment other than for legitimate scientific research.203 However, the text allows ocean fertilization to be “considered for a permit if it is assessed as constituting legitimate scientific research.”204 In order to clarify the notion of “legitimate scientific research,” an Assessment Framework for Scientific Research Involving Ocean Fertilization was adopted by LC/LP under Resolution LC-LP.2 in 2010.205 Although not binding, according to this Assessment Framework, the scientific activity should meet criteria such as:
the proposed activity should be designed to answer questions that will add to the body of scientific knowledge […]; Economic interests should not influence the design, conduct and/or outcomes of the proposed activity […]; The proposed activity should be subject to scientific peer review at appropriate stages in the assessment process […]; The proponents of the proposed activity should make a commitment to publish the results in peer reviewed scientific publications and include a plan in the proposal to make the data and outcome publicly available in a specified time-frame.206
While SIGE does not qualify as ocean fertilization, the LC/LP illustrates how states may apply the precautionary approach in the case of a MGE activity.
Notably, in the context of the LC/LP, it is MGE as “dumping” that is being approached. According to both UNCLOS and the LC/LP, “dumping” includes “any deliberate disposal of wastes or other matter from vessels, aircraft, platforms or other man-made structures at sea” or “any deliberate disposal of vessels, aircraft, platforms or other man-made structures at sea”,207 yet it excludes “placement of matter for a purpose other than the mere disposal thereof, provided that such placement is not contrary to the aims of this Convention.”208 While SIGE arguably involves the disposal of matter at sea when silica beads are spread on ice to increase its albedo, as well as the placement of structures when pumps are installed for ice-thickening, its primary purpose is not to dispose matter but rather to mitigate the impacts, slow down the effects, and repair some of the damage caused by climate change. However, given the environmental risks posed by these new technologies and their technical and practical uncertainties, they may be deemed contrary to the objectives of both conventions, particularly Part XII of UNCLOS.
In any case, even if the LC/LP does not directly address SIGE techniques or define whether they constitute “dumping,” it illustrates how states tend to regulate MGEs surrounded by scientific uncertainty, namely, by requiring a precautionary approach, prior assessment, transparency, and scientific peer review of the proposed activities.
A similar precautionary approach to geoengineering has been retained within the Convention on Biological Diversity209 (CBD) framework. In 2010 the COP of the CBD decided
in accordance with the precautionary approach and Article 14 of the Convention, that no climate-related geo-engineering activities that may affect biodiversity take place, until there is an adequate scientific basis on which to justify such activities and appropriate consideration of the associated risks for the environment and biodiversity and associated social, economic and cultural impacts, with the exception of small scale scientific research studies.210
This decision adds that such scientific studies shall be conducted in a controlled setting in accordance with Article 3 of the Convention, which recalls that states have responsibility to ensure that activities within their jurisdiction or control do not cause damage to the environment.211 By adopting an approach that both authorizes and limits the deployment of MGE to certain types of scientific projects, the development of international law within the frameworks of the LC/LP and the CBD thus illustrates how states may apply the precautionary approach in addressing different techniques of MGE, including SIGE. On the one hand, states tend to limit the development of geoengineering in the absence of sufficient knowledge to ensure its safety. On the other hand, they permit small-scale research projects or legitimate scientific research on MGE to further that knowledge, thereby avoiding the risk of completely missing out on the development of technologies that could help mitigate the impacts of climate change. Yet, specific attention should be paid in the context of SIGE, particularly concerning the controversy outlined above regarding the pursuit—or not—of research. This involves addressing environmental risks, potential moral hazards, and tackling governance challenges, while ensuring the inclusion of local communities and Indigenous peoples in decision-making.212
However, the distinction between small-scale research and deployment of geoengineering remains blurred. This is especially true when it comes to SIGE, considering that experimentation must take place in the natural environment and where doubts exist as to whether such technologies can meaningfully be tested at a small scale.213 The aforementioned criteria provided in the Assessment Framework adopted under the LC/LP also offer useful guidance for distinguishing legitimate scientific research from activities that more closely resemble large-scale deployment, although these criteria are specifically developed for ocean fertilisation and are not themselves legally binding.214 In particular, a proposed activity should pursue clearly defined research questions, contribute to scientific knowledge, and demonstrate why its expected outcomes cannot reasonably be achieved by other methods.215 It must also specify and justify its hypotheses, methods, scale, timing, and location.216 The Framework does not prohibit field experimentation. Rather, it requires proponents to justify why the scientific objectives cannot reasonably be achieved through other, potentially less environmentally intrusive, methods. These requirements may be difficult to apply to SIGE experiments for which the scientific value is said to depend on open-environment testing at a geographically large scale potentially capable of producing environmental effects. Lastly, interpretation may further prove difficult, particularly with respect to the criterion concerning economic interests.217 While the Assessment Framework excludes direct financial gain from an experiment or its outcomes, it permits payment for supporting services and does not preclude future benefits linked to patented technologies.218
To conclude, international law unequivocally requires a precautionary approach to the deployment of SIGE, ensuring that cryopower does not have carte blanche when exercised through climate interventions. In this case, even if SIGE technologies are advanced enough to be considered a restoration measure for the Arctic marine environment, international law restricts SIGE and conditions its use on stringent obligations. In other words, in light of the Arctic’s exceptional vulnerability, due diligence obligations to prevent harm, including the precautionary approach, bind states in their exercise of cryopower through geoengineering.
Hence, if “cryopolitics is not going to go away any time soon,” to use Bravo’s words,219 then it is important to no longer approach international law as a neutral arbiter that merely reacts to technological engagements with frozen states. Considering that SIGE has just emerged and continues to expand in the Arctic, causing significant concerns, international law serves as a compelling mechanism to address cryopower and mitigate risks to Arctic ecosystems.
Conclusion
Today, the Arctic is gradually being transformed into a site of intervention, where human ingenuity merges with natural processes to manage a hybridized, engineered cryosphere. The melting sea ice and the accompanying resource opportunities that arise have provided justification for both states and private actors to assert their power over the marine cryosphere in the name of sea ice restoration. Sea ice can be manipulated, marketed and regulated for the purpose of climate engineering. Experimenting with SIGE thus appears to be a compelling way of exercising cryopower, planting the seeds for another promising industrial domain in the Arctic Ocean.
Whether SIGE will, in the long term, translate into a large-scale industry in the Arctic Ocean depends on both the feasibility of these technologies and the results of ongoing environmental studies related to climate manipulation. However, we have demonstrated that the ongoing initiatives aimed at restoring sea ice through geoengineering cannot be viewed in isolation from legal frameworks. The body of international law determining the obligation to restore the marine environment provides a convincing set of rules when it comes to the protection of the Arctic marine environment, particularly in the context of SIGE. Yet, given the existing scientific uncertainty pertaining to SIGE and the fragmented regulatory landscape surrounding its governance, the engagement of international law with cryopower remains contingent on interpretation.
International law operates as a mechanism of cryopolitics, serving as a vessel to extend power further into the icy frontier, primarily advanced under UNCLOS and through states’ obligations to restore the marine environment as stipulated by the ICJ and ITLOS advisory opinions. However, the exercise of cryopower is not unlimited. We have shown that international law offers tools that can be strategically employed to constrain the rapid and uncontrollable unfolding of this power in light of ongoing SIGE expansion. In an environment as vulnerable and climatically significant as the Arctic, states have stringent obligations to ensure that activities under their jurisdiction or control do not cause significant harm to the marine environment. Ice restoration efforts must be pursued with due diligence, as the aspiration to restore should not be conflated with the actual realization of restoration. Thus, international law cannot be used to justify the expansion of SIGE in its current state of development in the name of “restoration.” This would only consider one side of the coin—the call for restoration—while ignoring the critical scrutiny of the methods employed to achieve it. Restoration of the environment under international law must indeed restore the environment. To make sure SIGE genuinely restores ecological balance without causing further harm, due diligence obligations to prevent harm must be upheld, including the need for a precautionary approach. Considering the best currently available scientific information, we conclude that such an approach may ultimately prohibit large-scale implementation of SIGE as long as it presents significant risks or potential adverse impacts on ice-dependent Arctic socio-ecological systems.
Notes
1.
IPCC, Climate Change 2023: Synthesis Report. Contribution of Working Groups I, II and III to the Sixth Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC, 2023).
2.
Paris Agreement, adopted 12 December 2015, entered into force 4 November 2016, TIAS No 16-1104 [hereinafter, Paris Agreement].
3.
Ibid, Art 2.
4.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change, ICJ Advisory Opinion of 2025, [224] [hereinafter, Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion].
5.
IPCC, Global Warming of 1.5 °C. An IPCC Special Report on the Impacts of Global Warming of 1.5 °C above Pre-Industrial Levels and Related Global Greenhouse Gas Emission Pathways, in the Context of Strengthening the Global Response to the Threat of Climate Change, Sustainable Development, and Efforts to Eradicate Poverty (Cambridge University Press, 2018), 12.
6.
The Royal Society, Climate Change and Ecosystems (National Academy of Sciences, 2019).
7.
MGE is defined in Article 5bis of the London Protocol (not yet in force) to the London Convention as the “deliberate intervention in the marine environment to manipulate natural processes, including to counteract anthropogenic climate change and/or its impacts, and that has the potential to result in deleterious effects, especially where those effects may be widespread, long lasting or severe”.
8.
Regulation (EU) 2024/1991 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 24 June 2024 on nature restoration and amending Regulation (EU) 2022/869, [9].
9.
IPCC, Climate Change and Land: an IPCC special report on climate change, desertification, land degradation, sustainable land management, food security, and greenhouse gas fluxes in terrestrial ecosystems (IPCC, 2019), 6.
10.
ICCI, State of the Cryosphere 2024—Lost Ice, Global Damage (ICCI, 2024), 41.
11.
Jean-Claude Gascard, Jinlun Zhang, and Mehrad Rafizadeh, “Rapid Decline of Arctic Sea Ice Volume: Causes and Consequences” (2019) The Cryosphere Discuss, European Geosciences Union.
12.
Arctic Council, “A Message from the Frozen World to Global Leaders at COP29”, 12 November 2024, Arctic Council at arctic-council.org/about/norway-chair-2/a-message-from-the-frozen-world-the-global-impact-of-a-changingcryosphere (accessed 25 August 2026).
13.
Norwegian Polar Institute, “Global Climate Change”, 2026, Norwegian Polar Institute, at https://npolar.no/en/themes/global-climate-change (accessed 25 August 2026).
14.
Language from Request for an Advisory Opinion submitted by the Commission of Small Island States on Climate Change and International Law, Advisory Opinion of 21 May 2024, ITLOS Case No. 31, [386] [hereinafter, ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change].
15.
See Section 3 below.
16.
Roberto Danovaro, James Aronson, Silvia Bianchelli, et al., “Assessing the Success of Marine Ecosystem Restoration Using Meta-Analysis” (2025) 16 Nature Communications at https://doi.org/10.1038/s41467-025-57254-2.
17.
Ibid.
18.
Tim C. Hammer, Aleksey Shestov, Laurina Leuntje van Dijke, et al., “Field Data on Sea Ice Restoration by Artificial Flooding” (2024) 57 Data in Brief 111117.
19.
REALICE, “An Active Cooling project to Preserve & Restore Arctic Sea Ice”, 2024, REALICE at https://www.realice.eco (accessed 25 August 2026).
20.
Arctic Ice Project, “The Approach”, 2024, Arctic Ice Project at www.arcticiceproject.org/approach (accessed 25 August 2026); see also Leslie Field, Detelina Ivanova, Subarna Bhattacharyya, et al., “Increasing Arctic Sea Ice Albedo Using Localized Reversible Geoengineering” (2018) 6 Earth’s Future 882, 882–901.
21.
Ice sheet stabilization using seabed curtains has been previously suggested to address the retreat of Sermeq Kujalleq glacier in the Ilulissat Icefjord, Greenland. However, this approach was unsuccessful as it did not have local acceptance, owing to the negative regional implications for marine productivity caused by the installation of such artificial barriers; see Ilona Mettiainen, Parnaq Iversen and John C. Moore, “Local Acceptability and Sustainability of Ice Sheet Conservation by Seabed Anchored Curtain in Ilulissat Icefjord, Greenland” (2024) AGU Fall Meeting 2024, Washington, D.C., 9–13 December 2024, Session: Cryosphere/Research in Active Conservation Methods for Ice Sheets and Glaciers Poster, Poster No. 243, id. C41F-0243, available at https://ui.adsabs.harvard.edu/abs/2024AGUFMC41F.0243M/abstract#:∼:text=Moore%2C%20John%20C.-,Abstract,the%20locals%20for%20various%20reasons (accessed 25 August 2026); see also Michael J. Wolovick and John C. Moore, “Stopping the Flood: Could We Use Targeted Geoengineering to Mitigate Sea Level Rise?” (2018) 12 The Cryosphere 2955.
22.
Douglas MacAyeal, Jane Smith, Robert Johnson, et al., Glacial Climate Intervention: A Research Vision (University of Chicago, 2024), at https://knowledge.uchicago.edu/record/12802?v=pdf (accessed 25 August 2026).
23.
Alyn Griffiths, “Iceberg-Making Submarine Aims to Tackle Global Warming by Re-Freezing the Arctic”, 27 July 2019, Dezeen at https://www.dezeen.com/2019/07/27/refreezing-the-arctic-geoengineering-design-climate-change (accessed 25 August 2026).
24.
Daniel Bodansky and Hugh Hunt, “Arctic Climate Interventions” (2020) 35(3) The International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 596, 608.
25.
New Scientist, “Geoengineering Is Now Essential to Saving the Arctic’s Ice”, 25 September 2024, New Scientist at https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg26335103-600-geoengineering-is-now-essential-to-saving-the-arctics-ice (accessed 25 August 2026).
26.
Steven J. Desch, Nathan Smith, Christopher Groppi, et al., “Arctic Ice Management” (2017) 5 Earth’s Future 107.
27.
Source: https://www.realice.eco (accessed 25 August 2026).
28.
Romain Chuffart, Aaron M. Cooper, Corine Wood-Donnelly, et al., “Old Sea, New Ice: Sea Ice Geoengineering and Indigenous Rights in Arctic Ocean Governance” 13(2) The Polar Journal 195, 208.
29.
Law in context is an interdisciplinary approach that opens legal research to interface with, and integrate, other disciplines; see Sanne Taekema and Bart van Klink, “Law and Method. Interdisciplinary Research into Law” (2011) 4 Series Politica 7. In this article, insights from political philosophy will contribute to inform and direct our legal research on the regulation of SIGE.
30.
Joanna Radin and Emma Kowal (eds), Cryopolitics: Frozen Life in a Melting World (The MIT Press, 2017), 3–26.
31.
Andreas Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos, Spatial Justice: Body, Lawscape, Atmosphere (Routledge, 2015).
32.
Roald Amundsen, The Northwest Passage: Being the Record of a Voyage of Exploration of the Ship “Gjoa” 1903–1907 by Roald Amundsen with a Supplement by First Lieutenant Hansen Vice-Commander of the Expedition (E. P. Dutton and Company, 1908), 2.
33.
In his dissertation, Voola provides an analysis of the different narratives of othering and exotification pertinent to the Arctic; see Joonas Voola, HOMUNCULUS: Bearing Incorporeal Arcticulations (Doctoral Thesis, University of Lapland, 2022), 214; see also Christopher McAteer, “Melting Imaginaries of the Arctic”, 2024, Anchorage Museum at anchoragemuseum.org/about-us/stories-and-voices/chatter-marks-journalpodcast/articles/melting-imaginaries-of-the-arctic (accessed 25 August 2026).
34.
Radin and Kowal, note 30, 45.
35.
Ibn Abi Usaibia, History of Physicians (The Hebrew University, 1971), 552.
36.
Bo Su, Cunde Xiao, Deliang Chen, et al., “Cryosphere Services and Human Well-Being” (2019) 11 Sustainability 4365.
37.
In this sense, cryopolitics necessitates the recognition of climate change and global warming as facts, against the backdrop of which emerging geopolitical interests unfold; see Terrence W. Haverluk, “The Age of Cryopolitics” (2010) 50(3) Focus on Geography 1; see also Michael Bravo and Gareth Rees, “Cryo-politics: Environmental Security and the Future of Arctic Navigation” (2006) 13(1) The Brown Journal of World Affairs 205, 207.
38.
Most prominently, see the contributions in Radin and Kowal, note 30, and in Charlotte Kroløkke, Thomas Søbirk Petersen, Janne Rothmar Herrmann, et al., The Cryopolitics of Reproduction on Ice: A New Scandinavian Ice Age (Emerald Publishing Limited, 2019); additionally, see Russ Castronovo, “Frozen Subjectivity: Vulnerability and Aesthetics at the End of the World” (2025) 52(2) boundary 2 79; Veit Braun, Thomas Lemke, Ruzana Liburkina, et al., “Introduction to the Special Issue: Politics of Suspension? Time, Space, and Control in Cryopreservation Practices” (2024) 19 BioSocieties 549; László Cseke, “The Real Subsumption of Nature and Cryopolitics: Temporal Fixes in Dairy Farming in Southern Italy” (2024) 56(7) Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 1936.
39.
Bravo and Rees, note 37.
40.
Alexander Friedrich, “The Rise of Cryopower: Biopolitics in the Age of Cryogenic Life” in Radin and Kowal, note 30, 59.
41.
Radin and Kowal, note 30, 1–27.
42.
Biopower (biopouvoir) first appeared in print in the The Will to Knowledge (La Volonté de savoir), volume one of Foucault’s The History of Sexuality (1976): Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, Vol. 1: An Introduction (Robert Hurley tr, Pantheon Books, 1978).
43.
Biopower refers to the ways in which states regulate human populations through an array of institutions and practices to optimize and control life processes. Biopolitics thus for Foucault is the “matter of taking control of life and the biological processes of man-as-species”; see Michel Foucault, Society Must Be Defended (David Masey tr, Picador, 2003), 246; Michel Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics (Graham Burchell tr, Palgrave MacMillan, 2008).
44.
Michel Foucault, Security, Territory, Population: Lectures at the Collège de France, 1977–1978 (Palgrave Macmillan, 1994), 1.
45.
Yet, while biopolitics involves examines the ways in which power is exercised over life itself, particularly in terms of managing populations and regulating bodies, in the case of SIGE, the “population” could be extended to include the Arctic material marine cryosphere, including its ecosystems, sea ice, and associated human and non-human animal forms.
46.
Foucault, note 43, 246–247.
47.
Friedrich, note 40, 63.
48.
See, overall, the contributions in Kroløkke, Petersen, Herrmann, et al., note 38.
49.
Rebecca J. H. Woods, “Nature and the Refrigerating Machine: The Politics and Production of Cold in the Nineteenth Century” in Radin and Kowal, note 30; Alexander Friedrich and Stefan Höhne, “Regimes of Freshness—Biopolitics in the Age of Cryogenic Culture” (2020) 3(3) Medicine Anthropology Theory 7.
50.
Emma Kowal and Joanna Radin, “Indigenous Biospecimen Collections and the Cryopolitics of Frozen Life” (2015) 51(1) Journal of Sociology 63.
51.
Apostolos Tsiouvalas, The Arctic Ocean in the Kinocene: A Kinopolitical Critique of the International Law of the Sea’s Relationship with Motion (Doctoral Thesis, UiT The Arctic University of Norway, 2025), 166.
52.
Notably, a limited account on the rule of law in regulating cryopreservation is provided by Kroløkke, Petersen, Herrmann, et al., note 38, chapter 1.
53.
Michael Bravo, “A Cryopolitics to Reclaim Our Frozen Material States” in Radin and Kowal, note 30, 40-44.
54.
In addition to reducing greenhouse gas emissions, other methods of sea ice restoration may include regulating black carbon to slow ice melt or implementing conservation measures in ice-covered areas.
55.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14.
56.
United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, adopted 10 December 1982, entered into force 16 November 1994, 1833 UNTS 3 [hereinafter, UNCLOS].
57.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14, [386]. See also the operative clause of the Tribunal, [441] (4)(b): “The obligation under article 192 of the Convention to protect and preserve the marine environment has a broad scope, encompassing any type of harm or threat to the marine environment. Under this provision, States Parties have the specific obligation to protect and preserve the marine environment from climate change impacts and ocean acidification. Where the marine environment has been degraded, this obligation may call for measures to restore marine habitats and ecosystems.”
58.
UNCLOS, Art 1(4).
59.
Christopher C. Joyner, “Ice-Covered Regions in International Law” (1991) 31 Natural Resources Journal 213, 213; Francis M. Auburn, “International Law and Sea-Ice Jurisdiction in the Arctic Ocean” (1973) 22(3) International & Comparative Law Quarterly 552, 552–557. Susan B. Boyd, “The Legal Status of the Arctic Sea Ice: A Comparative Study and a Proposal” (1985) 22 Canadian Yearbook of International Law 98.
60.
Apostolos Tsiouvalas, “Recalcitrant Materialities of a Liminal Ocean: Deconstructing the ‘Arctic Nomos’” (2023) 14 The Yearbook of Polar Law Online 76, 86.
61.
Ibid, 82–85.
62.
Apostolos Tsiouvalas and Jan Jakub Solski, “‘One Map to Rule Them All’? Revisiting Legalities through Cartographic Representations of the Northwest Passage” (2023) 54(4) Ocean Development & International Law 393, 402.
63.
The basic axiom of the law of the sea provides that “the land dominates the sea”. This means that rights and duties over different areas of the sea are always determined based on the sovereignty that a coastal state has over the land; see North Sea Continental Shelf Cases (Federal Republic of Germany v. Denmark; Federal Republic of Germany v. Netherlands), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 1969, p. 3.
64.
Article 234 acknowledges the unique climatic and environmental conditions of polar regions, allowing coastal states to exert additional prescriptive and enforcement jurisdiction over the protection of the marine environment in their EEZs.
65.
Warships and government vessels under UNCLOS are accorded immunity and thus should fall beyond the scope of Article 234; see UNCLOS, Art 236.
66.
Aldo Chircop, “Regulatory Challenges for International Arctic Navigation and Shipping in an Evolving Governance Environment” (2014) 28(1) Ocean Yearbook 269, 280.
67.
Shabtai Rosenne and Alexander Yankov, “Article 234” in Satya Nandan and Shabtai Rosenne (eds), United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982: A Commentary (Brill | Nijhoff, 1991), 392.
68.
Article 234 provided the legal foundation for Canada to implement provisions like those in the 1970 Canadian Arctic Waters Pollution Prevention Act, considering subsequent legal developments.
69.
In the 1990s, leveraging Article 234, the Russian Federation set forth a series of regulations that apply to the entirety of the Northern Sea Route. These regulations encompass a variety of requirements including mandatory insurance for vessels, specific navigation rules that include detailed authorization procedures, the obligation for vessels to have a state pilot onboard, and the necessity for ice-breaker assistance, for which the costs are determined by a publicly available schedule of charges. These comprehensive measures aim to ensure safe and regulated navigation along this crucial Arctic passage; see Russian Federation, Federal Law No. 155-FZ, “On Internal Waters, Territorial Sea and Contiguous Zone of the Russian Federation” (31 July 1998, as amended 5 December 2022); Russian Federation, Federal Law No. 81-FZ, “Merchant Shipping Code of the Russian Federation” (30 April 1999, as amended 21 May 2023); Russian Federation, Decree No. 1487, “On approval of the Rules of navigation in the waters of the Northern Sea Route” (18 September 2020, as amended 1 September 2023).
70.
In accordance with Article 86 of UNCLOS, which provides that the high seas cover “all parts of the sea that are not included in the exclusive economic zone, in the territorial sea or in the internal waters of a State, or in the archipelagic waters of an archipelagic State”.
71.
For some accounts of the existing research and survey activities on Arctic sea ice, see Yoshinobu Take, “Polar Complications in the Law of the Sea: A Case Study of the Regime for Research and Survey Activities in the Arctic Ocean” (2010) ABLOS Conference: Contentious Issues in UNCLOS—Surely Not? (International Hydrographic Bureau, 25–27 October 2010); Larry A. Mayer, “Seafloor Mapping and Exploration in a Changing Arctic Sea Ice Environment” in Myron H. Nordquist, John Norton Moore and Tomas H. Heidar (eds), Changes in the Arctic Environment and the Law of the Sea (Martinus Nijhoff, 2010), 83.
72.
For instance, the temporary camp Barneo has operated for about 25 days in April since the early 1990s on the sea ice about one degree of latitude from the North Pole; see “Camp Barneo”, 2024, Camp Barneo at campbarneo.com (accessed 25 August 2026).
73.
UNCLOS, Art 87.
74.
Mana Tugend, Romain Chuffart, and Apostolos Tsiouvalas, “Towards Rights of Sea Ice: Reconceptualizing Polar Law through the Rights of Nature and Arctic Sea Ice Dynamics” (2025) 16 The Yearbook of Polar Law 43, 43–65.
75.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14, [386].
76.
Ibid, [390] (emphasis added).
77.
Ibid. The Tribunal refers to Article 4(1)(d) of the UNFCCC and to Article 5(1) of the Paris Agreement. This section will explain why ice thickening and the spreading of reflective silica crystals can be considered as mitigation measures, although they do not directly aim at enhancing carbon sequestration.
78.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14, [390].
79.
Ibid, [400].
80.
Ibid.
81.
Ibid.
82.
There are provisions in UNCLOS that explicitly impose an obligation to restore, but they are related to fish stocks affected by overfishing; see UNCLOS, Arts 61, 119. See also Request for an Advisory Opinion Submitted by the Sub-Regional Fisheries Commission (SRFC), Advisory Opinion of 2 April 2015, ITLOS Case No. 21, [189]–[209].
83.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14, [386].
84.
Ibid.
85.
Ibid, [400].
86.
UNGA Resolution 77/276 Request for an advisory opinion of the International Court of Justice on the obligations of States in respect of climate change (29 March 2023) [question (a)].
87.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [86], [258].
88.
Ibid, [258].
89.
Ibid (emphasis added).
90.
Ibid, [136]. The ICJ adds: “Other elements of the required conduct include undertaking risk assessments and notifying and consulting other States, as appropriate”. The obligations of due diligence, including the precautionary approach, will be elaborated upon in the following developments of this article.
91.
Ibid, [281].
92.
Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay (Argentina v. Uruguay), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2010, p. 14, [101].
93.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [282].
94.
Ibid, [280]–[300].
95.
Ibid, [286]. However, the risks and costs of such technologies must also be taken into account when determining what can reasonably be expected from the state; see the discussion below in “Sea Ice Restoration Through Geoengineering? The Role of Law in Resisting Cryopower”.
96.
Ralf Döscher, Timo Vihma and Elena Maksimovich, “Recent Advances in Understanding the Arctic Climate System State and Change from a Sea Ice Perspective: A Review” (2014) 14 Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics 13571, 13571–13600.
97.
See Paris Agreement, Art 7(9).
98.
UNGA Resolution 77/276 Request for an advisory opinion of the International Court of Justice on the obligations of States in respect of climate change (29 March 2023) [question (b)].
99.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [104].
100.
Ibid, [105], with a reference to the Draft Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, ILC (2001), Art 28.
101.
Ibid, [407].
102.
ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 1; Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [444].
103.
Based on the definition of an internationally wrongful act of a state provided by the ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 2.
104.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [428].
105.
Ibid, [409].
106.
Ibid, [429].
107.
Ibid, [409].
108.
Ibid.
109.
It has been noted that the Court “pointed out two specific situations in which a State may incur liability: a State may be responsible for the behaviour of its own bodies if it fails to take adequate measures to protect the climate system against GHG emissions, and a State may also be responsible as a result of the conduct of other actors if it has failed in its (own) duty of care by ‘not taking the necessary regulatory and legislative measures to limit the quantity of emissions caused by private actors under its jurisdiction’”; see Yann Kerbrat and Sandrine Maljean-Dubois, “Opening the Doors: Legal Consequences of Breaching International Climate Obligations in the ICJ Advisory Opinion on Climate Change” (2026) 35 Review of European, Comparative & International Environmental Law 340, 342, with reference to [428] of the ICJ Advisory Opinion on Climate Change.
110.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [409], [449].
111.
Ibid, [422]; ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 31.
112.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [435]; Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Uganda), Reparations, Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2022 (I), p. 49, [97].
113.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [450], with references to the Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion, I.C.J. Reports 2004 (I), p. 198, [152], and to Art 31 of the ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts.
114.
Factory of Chorzów, Merits, Judgment No. 13, 1928, P.C.I.J., Series A, No. 17, p. 47.
115.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [449]–[455].
116.
Ibid, [451].
117.
On the questions relating to causation, see Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [433]–[438]; Kerbrat and Maljean-Dubois, note 109, 105.
118.
ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 35.
119.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [452].
120.
Ibid, [453]; Certain Activities Carried Out by Nicaragua in the Border Area (Costa Rica v. Nicaragua), Compensation, Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2018 (I), p. 15, [41]–[43].
121.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [439]–[443].
122.
Ibid, [440].
123.
Kerbrat and Maljean-Dubois, note 109, 6–7, with reference to [441] of the ICJ Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, emphasis added by the authors.
124.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [441]–[443]; Questions relating to the Obligation to Prosecute or Extradite (Belgium v. Senegal), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2012 (II), p. 422, [68]–[70]; Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (The Gambia v. Myanmar), Preliminary Objections, Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2022, p. 477, [106]–[112]; ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 48.
125.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [443]; ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 48(2).
126.
This damage may further result from a breach of international human right law; see Obligations of States Advisory Opinion, note 4, [372]–[386].
127.
On the obligations of states under international human right law and on the adverse effects of climate change on the enjoyment of human rights, see Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [369]–[404].
128.
Ibid, [436].
129.
Ibid, [437].
130.
See first section above.
131.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [437].
132.
Ibid, [433]–[438].
133.
Ibid, [436], in line with its case law, notably Certain Activities Carried Out by Nicaragua in the Border Area (Costa Rica v. Nicaragua), [32]; Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Uganda), [93]. The certainty does not have to be absolute, and the standard is considered by the ICJ to be “flexible enough to address the challenges arising in respect of the phenomenon of climate change”.
134.
Certain Activities Carried Out by Nicaragua in the Border Area (Costa Rica v. Nicaragua), [34].
135.
As discussed in the following section, scientific evidence warns that large-scale climate engineering to stabilize the Arctic cryosphere faces extreme technological limitations and risks acting as a dangerous distraction from mitigation.
136.
Field, Ivanova, Bhattacharyya, et al., note 20.
137.
Radin and Kowal, note 30, 16.
138.
James Rodger Fleming, Fixing the Sky: The Checkered History of Weather and Climate Control (Columbia University Press, 2010).
139.
Field, Ivanova, Bhattacharyya, et al., note 20.
140.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14, [386].
141.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [86]; IPCC, “Glossary”, 2022, IPCC Glossary at https://apps.ipcc.ch/glossary (accessed 25 August 2026), 123.
142.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [86]; IPCC, Climate Change 2023: Synthesis Report (IPCC, 2023), 55–56, section 2.2.3.
143.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [258].
144.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14, [390].
145.
Ibid.
146.
Paris Agreement, Art 5(1).
147.
United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, adopted 9 May 1992, entered into force 21 March 1994, 1771 UNTS 107, Art 4(1)(d) [hereinafter, UNFCCC].
148.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [451]. In line with Factory of Chorzów, Merits, Judgment No. 13, 1928, P.C.I.J., Series A, No. 17, p. 47; Arrest Warrant of 1 I April 2000 (Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Belgium), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2002, p. 3, [76]; ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 35.
149.
The critical role of sea ice in carbon sequestration is, however, extensively discussed in the scientific literature; see, among others, Victoria R. Dutch, Dorothee C. E. Bakker, Alizée Roobaert, et al., “The Arctic Ocean CO2 Sink: Trends, Uncertainties, and the Impact of Sea Ice” (2025) 39(8) Global Biogeochemical Cycles doi.org/10.1029/2025GB008576; Graeme A. MacGilchrist, Alberto C. Naveira Garabato, Takamasa Tsubouchi, et al., “The Arctic Ocean Carbon Sink” (2014) 86 Deep Sea Research Part I: Oceanographic Research Papers 39. Some scientists argue sea-ice loss in the Arctic Ocean is increasing the sink for carbon; see Nicholas R. Bates, S. Bradley Moran, Dennis A. Hansell, et al., “An Increasing CO2 Sink in the Arctic Ocea due to Sea-Ice Loss” (2006) 33(3) Geophysical Research Letters doi.org/10.1029/2006GL027028. Others argue, on the opposite, that a decrease of the sea ice in the Canada Basin (in the Arctic) will not create a significant new CO2 sink; see Brent G.T. Else, R.J. Galley, B. Lansard, et al., “Further Observations of a Decreasing Atmospheric CO2 Uptake Capacity in the Canada Basin (Arctic Ocean) due to Sea Ice Loss” (2013) 40(6) Geophysical Research Letters 1132.
150.
Martin Siegert, Heidi Sevestre, Michael J. Bentley, et al., “Safeguarding the Polar Regions from Dangerous Geoengineering: A Critical Assessment of Proposed Concepts and Future Prospects” (2025) 3 Frontiers in Science 1527393.
151.
Katja Frieler, Matthias Mengel, and Anders Levermann, “Delaying Future Sea-Level Rise by Storing Water in Antarctica” (2016) 7(1) European Geosciences Union 203, 203–210.
152.
Alec Luhn, “Inside the Bold Geoengineering Work to Refreeze the Arctic’s Disappearing Ice” (2025) 332 (6) Scientific American Magazine 40.
153.
Ibid.
154.
Desch, Smith, Groppi, et al., note 26.
155.
Ibid, 121.
156.
Siegert, Sevestre, Bentley, et al., note 149, 12. See also Andrew G. Pauling and Cecilia M. Bitz, “Arctic Sea Ice Response to Flooding of the Snow Layer in Future Warming Scenarios” (2021) 9(10) Earth’s Future 13: “a [sea ice-focused geoengineering] scheme may not be sufficiently effective or feasible” to save the Arctic sea ice.
157.
Desch, Smith, Groppi, et al., note 26, 121–122.
158.
Rachel Feltman, Alec Luhn, Fonda Mwangi, et al., “Polar Geoengineering Experiments Bet Big on Freezing Arctic Ice”, 15 May 2025, Scientific American at https://www.scientificamerican.com/podcast/episode/real-ice-experiments-with-polar-geoengineering-to-refreeze-melting-arctic (accessed 5 March 2026); Luhn, note 152.
159.
Desch, Smith, Groppi, et al., note 26, 122.
160.
Siegert, Sevestre, Bentley, et al., note 150, 12. Zampieri and Goessling tested this idea and their results “cast doubt on the potential of Arctic Management to mitigate climate change.” See Lorenzo Zampieri and Helge F. Goessling, “Sea Ice Targeted Geoengineering Can Delay Arctic Sea Ice Decline but not Global Warming” (2019) 7(12) Earth’s Future 1296. Pauling and Bitz criticize the study from Zampieri and Goessling, arguing they missed several key physical impacts. Yet, they demonstrate that flooding the ice surface with seawater or rain may reduce sea ice loss but still conclude that a sea ice-focused geoengineering scheme may not be sufficiently effective or feasible to save the Arctic sea ice. See Pauling and Bitz, note 156.
161.
Siegert, Sevestre, Bentley, et al., note 150, 2, 18–20.
162.
Kyle P. Whyte, “Indigeneity in Geoengineering Discourses: Some Considerations” (2018) 21(3) Ethics, Policy & Environment 289, 289–307.
163.
Francois Fripiat, Sebastien Moreau, Dan Nomura, et al., “Implications of Sea Ice Management for Arctic Biogeochemistry” (2020) 101 Eos at https://eos.org/opinions/implications-of-sea-ice-management-for-arctic-biogeochemistry (accessed 25 August 2026).
164.
Feltman, Luhn, Mwangi, et al., note 158; Luhn, note 152.
165.
Ibid.
166.
Melinda A. Webster and Stephen G. Warren, “Regional Geoengineering Using Tiny Glass Bubbles Would Accelerate the Loss of Arctic Sea Ice” (2022) 10(10) Earths Future doi.org/10.1029/2022EF002815.
167.
Siegert, Sevestre, Bentley, et al., note 150, 9.
168.
Ibid, 10.
169.
Ibid, 9–10.
170.
The Arctic Ice Project Team, “Reflecting on Our Scientific Journey and Next Steps,” 2025, Arctic Ice Project at https://www.arcticiceproject.org/a-final-chapter (accessed 25 August 2026).
171.
Bright Ice Initiative, “Our Mission”, 2025, Bright Ice Initiative at www.brighticeinitiative.org/ourwork (accessed 25 August 2026).
172.
ILC Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, Art 35.
173.
Siegert, Sevestre, Bentley, et al., note 150, 2, 18–20.
174.
Ibid, 25.
175.
The Anchorage Declaration, Indigenous Peoples’ Global Summit on Climate Change (24 April 2009), 3.
176.
Feltman, Luhn, Mwangi, et al., note 158. According to Luhn, note 152: “Inuit activists have accused other geoengineering projects of colonial thinking. Iñupiaq people in Alaska said a field trial that scattered tiny silica beads on a lake there failed to obtain their free, prior and informed consent.”
177.
Chuffart, Cooper, Wood-Donnelly, et al., note 28.
178.
Bodansky and Hunt further advocate that the Arctic Council could serve as an assessment and policy forum, representing both the interests of states and other Arctic actors, such as Indigenous communities; see Bodansky and Hunt, note 24.
179.
John C. Moore, Marc Macias-Fauria and Michael Wolovick, “A New Paradigm from the Arctic” (2025) 3 Frontiers in Science 1657323. On the risk of “non-research” and the precautionary principle, see Gareth Davies and Julie Vinders, “Geoengineering, the Precautionary Principle, and the Search for Climate Safety” (2025) European Journal of Risk Regulation 1.
180.
A comprehensive analysis of all laws applicable to geoengineering is beyond the scope of this study. On this subject, see Alexander Proelss, “Geoengineering and International Law” (2012) 30(4) Sicherheit und Frieden (S + F)/Security and Peace 205; Karen Scott, “Mind the Gap: Marine Geoengineering and the Law of the Sea” in Robert C. Beckman, Millicent McCreath, J. Ashley Roach, et al. (eds), High Seas Governance (Brill, 2018), 34.
181.
Responsibilities and Obligations of States with respect to Activities in the Area, Advisory Opinion of 1 February 2011, ITLOS Reports 2011, p. 10, [131]; Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [294].
182.
Samantha Besson, Due Diligence in International Law (Brill Nijhoff, The Hague Academy Special Editions, trans. S. Knuchel, 2023), 178, referring to the Declaration of Legal Principles Relating to Climate Change (Resolution 2/2014), International Law Association, 7–11 April 2014, Arts 7A and 7B.
183.
Rio Declaration on Environment and Development, Report of the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development, Rio de Janeiro, 3–14 June 1992, UN Doc A/CONF.151/26 (Vol. I), Principle 15.
184.
Responsibilities and Obligations of States with respect to Activities in the Area, Advisory Opinion of 1 February 2011, note 181, [131].
185.
Ibid.
186.
A more in-depth analysis of the content of due diligence obligations is beyond the scope of this article but has already been conducted in the literature. For further details, and especially on how due diligence binds states with regard to activities carried out by private companies under their control, see Yann Kerbrat, “Le renforcement des obligations de diligence des États et son impact sur les entreprises” (2021) 171(7234) Revue Lamy Droit des affaires; Samantha Besson, Due Diligence in International Law (Brill Nijhoff, The Hague Academy Special Editions, trans. S. Knuchel, 2023).
187.
To conduct an environmental impact assessment when an activity may have a significant adverse impact is an obligation of customary international law according to the Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay (Argentina v. Uruguay), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2010, p. 14.
188.
Scott, note 180, 44.
189.
Kevin Elliott, “Geoengineering and the Precautionary Principle” (2010) 24 (2) International Journal of Applied Philosophy 237.
190.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [137].
191.
Moore, Macias-Fauria and Wolovick, note 179, 3.
192.
UNFCCC, Art 3(3).
193.
Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change Advisory Opinion, note 4, [286].
194.
ITLOS Advisory Opinion on Climate Change, note 14, [231].
195.
Ibid.
196.
Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter, adopted 29 December 1972, entered into force 30 August 1975, 1046 UNTS 120 [hereinafter, London Convention].
197.
1996 Protocol to the Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter, adopted 7 November 1996, entered into force 24 March 2006, 36 ILM 1 [London Protocol].
198.
Resolution LP.4(8) on the Amendment to the London Protocol to Regulate the Placement of Matter for Ocean Fertilization and other Marine Geoengineering Activities, adopted 18 October 2013 [hereinafter, Resolution LP.4(8)].
199.
London Protocol, Art 21(3): “An amendment shall enter into force for the Contracting Parties which have accepted it on the sixtieth day after two-thirds of the Contracting Parties shall have deposited an instrument of acceptance of the amendment with the Organization. Thereafter the amendment shall enter into force for any other Contracting Party on the sixtieth day after the date on which that Contracting Party has deposited its instrument of acceptance of the amendment.”
200.
Resolution LP.4(8), Art 6bis(1).
201.
Ibid, Art 6bis(2).
202.
Ibid.
203.
Resolution LP.4(8): In addition to the prohibition set out in article 6bis of marine geoengineering activities listed in Annex 4, Annex 4(1)(2) of the Resolution expressly specifies that “[a]ll ocean fertilization activities other than those referred to in paragraph .3 shall not be permitted.”
204.
Ibid, Annex 4(1)(3).
205.
Assessment Framework for Scientific Research Involving Ocean Fertilization, Res. LC-LP.2 (2010) (14 October 2010).
206.
Ibid, [2.2].
207.
UNCLOS, Art 5(a); London Convention, Art III(1)(a). The definition of dumping under the London Protocol now also includes a paragraph encompassing “any storage of wastes or other matter in the seabed and the subsoil thereof from vessels, aircraft, platforms or other man-made structures at sea.” This definition is intended to cover carbon storage and is not relevant to the study of SIGE. The question of whether existing SIGE techniques involve dumping remains beyond the scope of this paper. What is of significance here, however, is the commitment of the LC/LP to the precautionary approach, which appears to be relevant to any type of geoengineering with unclear consequences.
208.
UNCLOS, Art 1(5)(b)(ii); London Convention, Art III(1)(b)(ii).
209.
Convention on Biological Diversity, adopted 5 June 1992, entered into force 29 December 1993, 1760 UNTS 79.
210.
Decision X/33 on Biodiversity and Climate Change, UNEP/CBD/COP/DEC/X/33 (29 October 2010), [8(w)].
211.
Ibid.
212.
Gabriela Argüello and Julia Johansson, “Ice Management Research and the Arctic Marine Environment” in Abhinayan Basu Bal, Trisha Rajput, Gabriela Argüello, et al., (eds), Regulation of Risk (Brill, 2022), 63; Alec P. Bennett, “Arctic Sea Ice Decline and Geoengineering Solutions: Cascading Security and Ethical Considerations” (2022) 13(1) Challenges: Journal of Planetary Health doi.org/10.3390/challe13010022.
213.
Jack Stilgoe, “Geoengineering as Collective Experimentation” (2016) 22(3) Science and Engineering Ethics 851, 858–859: “Although Robock’s assessment is broad, including ethical and political considerations, his sense of geoengineering-as-experiment is largely a technical one. He and colleagues (Robock et al. 2010) have argued that testing of geoengineering would be impossible without its full-scale deployment, in part because the signal of a response to any geoengineering would get lost in the noise of a chaotic climate system. Other geoengineering researchers have countered that, with careful scaling up and variation, the effects of geoengineering could be tested at a less than planetary scale (see Douglas G. MacMynowski, Ho-Jeong Shin and Ken Caldeira, “The frequency response of temperature and precipitation in a climate model” (2011) 38(16) Geophysical Research Letter L16711). Even if this were to be true, the absence of either a hermetically-sealed scalable laboratory or a control run would blur any line drawn between research and deployment.” See Alan Robock, Martin Bunzl, Ben Kravitz, and Georgiy L. Stenchikov, “A Test for Geoengineering? Stratospheric Geoengineering Cannot Be Tested in the Atmosphere without Full-Scale Implementation” (2010) 327(5965) Science at https://www.science.org/doi/abs/10.1126/science.1186237 (accessed 25 August 2025); MacMynowski et al., ibid.
214.
Assessment Framework for Scientific Research Involving Ocean Fertilization, Res. LC-LP.2 (2010) (14 October 2010), [2.2].
215.
Ibid, [2.2], criterion 1.
216.
Ibid.
217.
Assessment Framework for Scientific Research Involving Ocean Fertilization, Res. LC-LP.2 (2010) (Oct. 14, 2010), [2.2], criterion 2.
218.
Ibid.
219.
Bravo, note 53, 45.
Acknowledgments
The authors would like to thank Nikolaos Dimitrakopoulos and Maria Morisson for their research assistance, Professor Karen Scott for her meticulous editorial assistance, and the two anonymous reviewers for their valuable feedback. All remaining errors are our own.
