Atlantic salmon: Open-net feedlots must not be used in Tasmania

It's no longer defensible.

So when forced to defend itself, the industry falls back on accusing critics of elitism and destroying Tasmanian jobs.

Unsurprisingly, the companies' employees feel threatened and their union hits back with the same hollow defence.

This is a nonsense defence but is the only one in their armoury.

As former premier, David Bartlett says, this "ham-fisted, boofheaded" approach means the industry has lost the argument.

"It's over already," he says. "We all know how this ends - the companies taking a f-you approach." (Mercury online)

It does not have to be this way.

There does not have to be "a war", as former Attorney- General, Brian Wightman fears. (The Examiner, Monday, May 10).

The companies have themselves to blame if they are losing public confidence and social licence along with a government and regulators that act as enablers and protectors of the industry instead of the public guardian entrusted with the stewardship of the state's waterways, coastlines and communities.

A call for a boycott is an understandable community reaction to years of frustration engendered by being fobbed off and ignored.

Lax regulation and enforcement, leases given away at bargain-basement prices and a lack of transparency have contributed to a collapse in public confidence.

As environmental consultant, Louise Cherrie, who resigned in disgust from the Government's Marine Farming Planning Review Panel says, just the evidence of your own eyes tells you something is terribly wrong.

Even the industry's mantra that it cares about its workers, jobs and community falls apart under scrutiny. Tassal's promise of a jobs boon when it was permitted into Okehampton Bay failed to eventuate.

Industry expansion in salmon tonnage and turnover far outstrips jobs growth as technology steadily replaces humans.

Flush-through salmon hatcheries continue to pollute the rivers that feed Hobart's water catchment, as even a compliant EPA acknowledges.

When the South Arm community sought a meeting with the three companies this year to hear about plans for new feedlots in Storm Bay, none of them bothered to turn up. (Petuna claims it cannot find the invitation).

There is a novel approach that can avoid the "war" Mr Wightman fears. It requires action that the government and the industry have signally failed to take in the past.

It's called having an open, honest and frank discussion about the future of aquaculture in the Tasmania of the 21st century.

It requires acknowledging what the former CEO of the world's largest industrial salmon producer, Norway's Mowi, has warned: the end of open-net feedlots is already in sight globally.

Atle Eide, a leader of the industry for decades says, "Society's demands have shifted too much, and technological advances will make it profitable to change."

The industry, he adds, needs to pay more attention to environmental, social and governance demands while new technology and expertise means "we probably won't have fully open, traditional net pens by 2030."

Land-based aquaculture, he says, is one of those new increasingly economic technologies. (IntraFish, May 10)

It's not that Tassal, Huon Aquaculture or Petuna are unaware of the global shifts or of the rising tide of opposition as the global salmon industry invades ever more coastal bays on every continent except the Antarctic.

It's that the companies and the government have no faith in Tasmanians' ability to hold a real discussion over which they have no control of the outcome.

We urgently need to talk about genuine transition out of Tasmania's rivers and coastal waterways over the next nine years.

What we urgently do not need is the looming sea grab that is in store to fulfil industry aspirations to double in size by 2030.

Companies, unions, government and communities have an opportunity to coalesce to both protect and grow aquaculture jobs in Tasmania.

Clearly the community is ready: it needs only the other three parties to shed their timidity for the discussion to begin.