Politics, policy, and the year deep-sea mining got real.

After decades of research and speculation, between missed deadlines, robotic trials, backroom deals, and environmental outcry, the prospect of retrieving battery metals from the ocean floor is no longer theoretical, crossing from fringe concept to near-future reality.

Conventional sources of energy transition minerals like cobalt, nickel, and rare earth elements are increasingly inhibited by geopolitical instability, environmental and human rights pushback, and constrained supply in both mining and refining.

The Metal Company

Humanity has extracted roughly 700 billion metric tons of minerals from land throughout history, but polymetallic nodules may make battery metal mining a relic of the past.

Meanwhile, ocean detritus has been gently drifting to the seafloor – a shark tooth here, a squid beak there – to become the nuclei of countless nondescript treasures; dark, knobby, and scattered in the billions like coins from a burst Spanish galleon.

Accreting layers of minerals over millions of years at abyssal depths, these polymetallic nodules have been coined "batteries in a rock" for their uncanny makeup of iron, manganese, nickel, copper, cobalt, even traces of rare earth elements, molybdenum, lithium, titanium, and more.

Yet the deep ocean remains an unproven and highly contested space. Despite its mineral promise, deep-sea mining is fraught with unresolved technological, environmental, legal, and economic uncertainties.

This year, two companies – The Metals Company and Impossible Metals – are pursuing deep-sea mining through very different regulatory routes, based on jurisdiction, mineral rights frameworks, and environmental philosophy. One is banking on need and political sway, while the other is based on surgical automation and a long-term commitment to sustainability.

But overshadowing their contrasting methodologies is the same unresolved tension: whether the seabed should be mined at all – and who gets to decide.

A tale of two startups

When tiny island nation Nauru pulled the "two-year trigger" back in 2021, formally notifying the International Seabed Authority (ISA) of its intent to apply for the commercial exploitation of polymetallic nodules, it set a countdown clock for the ISA to finalize long-unfinished deep-sea mining regulations, which ran out in 2023.

By treaty logic, the ISA is obligated to consider – and potentially greenlight – commercial mining applications, even if regulations remain unfinished. But instead of progress, the moment sparked a global standoff.

Over 20 countries, including Germany, France, Chile, and several Pacific nations, have pushed for moratoriums or outright bans on seabed mining; more than 800 scientists and policy experts have called for a halt until there's robust scientific evidence that mining won't irreversibly damage deep-sea ecosystems; and major companies like BMW, Google, and Samsung have pledged not to source seafloor metals – financial institutions are also steering clear.

Despite years of negotiations, the ISA has yet to finalize rules for how seabed mining should be conducted, monitored, taxed, or penalized. The current framework allows companies to conduct environmental studies and submit draft exploitation plans, but the content and standards of those plans vary widely.

The ISA's internal watchdogs have also raised concerns about conflicts of interest, questionable permitting practices, and overly cozy relationships between regulators and corporate applicants. With the door ajar, the industry is already shouldering through.

dörkdesign

It is challenging for companies to course-correct when millions of dollars have already been invested. Impossible Metals started from scratch with a responsible harvesting design front and center, standing out in the industry.

The Metals Company

At one end of the spectrum is TMC, the high-profile Canadian firm led and championed by outspoken co-founder Gerard Barron.

"Ocean nodules are a unique resource to consider at a time when society urgently needs a good solution for supplying new virgin metals for the green transition," said Barron. "Extraction of virgin metals – from any source – is by definition not sustainable and generates environmental damage. It's our responsibility to understand the benefits – as well as the damages associated with sourcing base metals from nodules."

Proponents of seabed mining argue it is less harmful than land mining and provides essential minerals for decarbonization. TMC has tested harvesting and processing thousands of tons of nodules in the Clarion-Clipperton Zone (CCZ) using updated dredging methods and a modified oil drill ship.

In April, President Trump signed an order supporting deep-sea mining to reduce U.S. reliance on China for minerals, instructing agencies to speed up permitting for such projects in federal and international waters.

TMC's U.S. subsidiary leapt to meet this policy windfall with applications to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) within the U.S. Department of Commerce, seeking exploration and commercial recovery permits to mine polymetallic nodules in the CCZ – an area mostly outside the U.S. exclusive economic zone (EEZ) – putting the U.S. at odds with the member countries of the ISA.

"The area is an international possession," countered Leticia Reis de Carvalho, Secretary-General of the ISA. "Therefore, any activity without an authorization of the International Seabed Authority constitutes a violation of international law."

Polymetallic nodule collection technology emerged in the 1970s, with companies such as Shell, Rio Tinto (formerly Kennecott), and Sumitomo conducting test retrievals in the CCZ, which is estimated to contain six times more cobalt and three times more nickel than all known land reserves combined, according to the ISA and USGS.

The ISA was later established by the United Nations to regulate further mineral extraction on the high seas. Although there has yet to be any commercial production, global pilot efforts have continued to focus on scaling collection methods and minimizing environmental impact.

dörkdesign

"Unleashing America's Offshore Critical Minerals and Resources" directs U.S. agencies to accelerate permitting, mapping and scientific research, domestic processing, and strategic partnerships.

Impossible Metals

Critics argue that industry ambitions far outpace current scientific knowledge, with independent reviews showing ecosystem recovery after common mining practices could take decades to millions of years. Unlike land-based mining, there are no established standards for reclamation of underwater sites. It is not the same as replanting a forest, nor are the nodules a sustainable resource, as they take millions of years to develop.

Co-founder of the California-based startup Impossible Metals, Oliver Gunasekara wants to play by the rules – some of which his company has invented for itself – not to disturb sediment or sea life, to operate within the U.S. EEZ, and one day even close its doors as an outdated raw minerals miner, replaced by circular technologies that haven't been imagined yet.

When President Trump's executive order came down, Impossible Metals also applied to lease and conduct exploratory operations near American Samoa.

The company's Eureka harvesters are all-new autonomous underwater vehicles, robotic AI learning machines that hover over the seafloor with rows of crablike claws for picking up individual nodules, and a sophisticated camera system for spotting and avoiding any life calling them home. They have completed successful shallow-water tests in 2024 and are now in deep-sea trials.

"I don't believe accepting ocean floor destruction caused by dredging is the only way," Gunasekara said. "Impossible Metals is proving that we can responsibly harvest seabed minerals with minimal impact on the environment: our equipment hovers above the ocean floor versus rolling across it; our technology carefully selects and picks up nodules without life versus vacuuming it all up, to name a few advantages of our novel approach."

The Metals Company

These polymetallic nodules have been coined "batteries in a rock" for their uncanny makeup of iron, nickel, copper, cobalt, manganese, even traces of REEs and PGMs.

Dig in, delay, or reinvent

With demand for battery materials steadily rising, seabed nodules are being positioned as a strategic asset in the energy transition. Although extraction technologies are still being piloted, significant investment and shortened timelines can be expected if policy opens the floodgates.

Governments are eyeing these resources to diversify away from supply chains dominated by geopolitical rivals. Norway, Japan, and the Cook Islands are advancing deep-sea mining within their EEZs, while others, such as Saudi Arabia, may straddle policy divides between the ISA and the U.S. in broader collaborations.

Ocean mining firms are developing technologies to withstand crushing pressure at depths rivaling the Titanic wreck, while advancing sediment containment and plume mitigation in response to environmental concerns and growing scrutiny.

Modern vessels now carry real-time monitoring systems and environmental sensors designed to improve precision and comply with evolving regulations.

The next few years will test not only the technical feasibility of deep-sea mining, but its role in the clean energy transition – whether as a stopgap, a pillar, or an overreach. Polymetallic nodules contain minerals well suited for electric vehicles and grid storage, but scientists warn that the world may be starting a new chapter of environmental degradation before closing the last.

Some argue that a less disposable approach to product design, improved recycling, more efficient land-based mining, or alternative chemistries like sodium-ion could render seabed mining unnecessary. Others see it as inevitable – a technological tradeoff in an imperfect world, driven by economics and the sheer scale of electrification ahead. The challenge lies in not losing sight of why these minerals are being sought in the first place.

Investing in a circular economy is no less complex. While deep-sea mining offers a vision of abundant material far from civilization, it also echoes the same assumptions that once surrounded fossil fuels – plentiful, distant, and consequence-free.

"If we treat these things as disposable, as we have, we're going to need to continually refill that bucket," said Tony Dutzik, associate director and senior policy analyst at the nonprofit think tank Frontier Group, in a Wired interview. "If we can build an economy in which we're getting the most out of every bit of what we mine, reusing things when we can, and then recycling the material at the end of their lives, we can get off of that infinite extraction treadmill that we've been on for a really long time."

Whether the ocean floor becomes a futuristic bonanza or the last ecosystem spared will depend not just on contracts and carbon math, but whether science and regulation can keep pace with ambition.