From Protecting to Respecting Marine Relations in Aotearoa,New Zealand

Abstract

Coastal marine areas are complex ecological systems that serve as receptacles of water from land, rivers, streams and the ocean. They are culturally embedded terrains, involving complex relational systems between the natural and human communities. In Aotearoa, New Zealand, Crown laws and policies have failed to effectively manage the multitude of pressures facing coastal marine environments. However, these laws and policies evolved within settler-colonial power structures that excluded Māori from lawmaking, ownership and management of marine domains. This article situates Aotearoa’s marine governance challenges within a global context. Māori and Indigenous governance models are positioned as transformative, offering pathways for legal pluralism, co-design and biocultural conservation beyond preservationist Western conceptualisations, that better account for the legal and political authority, or rangatiratanga, of Indigenous Peoples. By foregrounding Indigenous agency and knowledge systems, this work advances a shift towards relational governance frameworks that respect rights, restore ecosystems and sustain cultural continuity.

Toi te kupu, toi te mana, toi te whenua

When work is established for the people,

status is established too, and thus is the land secured.

——Rev. Māori Marsden, Muriwhenua fishing claim, 1988

Introduction

Aotearoa, New Zealand (hereafter Aotearoa) is among the many countries globally facing a marine biodiversity crisis (Herbert-Read et al., 2022). This crisis reflects the legacy of poor environmental management decisions made across the land and sea (Ministry for the Environment & Stats NZ, 2022; Ministry of Fisheries, 2009; Waitangi Tribunal, 1989, 1992a). The complex and multidimensional threats to our coastal marine areas include overextraction - for example, fishing, mining and petroleum - intensified anthropogenic activities, cumulative impacts on the coastal environment – for example, habitat loss, contaminants and pollution – and impacts from climate change – for example, ocean warming, darkening and acidification (Herbert-Read et al., 2022).

In Aotearoa, as in many places, the marine biodiversity crisis incorporates a complex physical and social context, affected and enabled by Crown marine and coastal laws and policies (Macpherson et al., 2023), which have promoted extractive and destructive uses of the taiao (environment) and resources (Gibbs, 2008). Māori (Indigenous Peoples of Aotearoa) managed Aotearoa’s marine and coastal environment pre-European settlement, by using their mātauranga (cultural body of knowledge) Māori, embedded in values of utu (reciprocal obligations of care and balance).

This article is positioned as a reset of the relationship between people and the coast in the settler-colonial context; to do so, we must shift from our current mode of extraction and exploitation towards a system of intergenerational marine respect and regeneration. We argue that Māori, who hold place-based knowledge and experience, must be equitable partners in generating new coastal marine laws, policies, practices and management approaches (Ens et al., 2021; Reyes-García & Benyei, 2019; Reyes-García et al., 2019).

Here we introduce a new conceptual framing of marine governance by shifting from “marine protected areas” to “marine respected areas,” a notion brought into awareness by elder Ken Paul (of the Wolastoqey First Nation at Neqotkuk, the community of Tobique First Nation, New Brunswick, Canada; Paul, 2024). Our arguments are grounded in Māori relational philosophies, which have received insufficient emphasis in dominant marine conservation literature. They draw on our historical analysis of how successive Crown laws systematically displaced Māori authority, while also highlighting contemporary innovations that actively reshape governance systems. To advance beyond the limited and polarising existing approaches to marine conservation in Aotearoa, we argue for an Aotearoa-specific biocultural “third space” that operationalises mātauranga Māori as a governance framework capable of informing transformative, pluralistic marine policy. Our arguments have broad relevance for international debates about marine conservation, and chart a way beyond limiting, “all or nothing” approaches to marine conservation.

We begin with an overview of the worldviews underpinning coastal marine law, policy and management actions in a settler-colonial context, contrasting approaches from Te Ao Māori (the Māori worldview). We then explore the historical evolution of Māori rights, interests and relationships related to coastal and marine areas in Aotearoa. We conclude by arguing that a Te Ao Māori worldview provides critical knowledge, principles and tools for improved ocean and coastal management that can work alongside Western knowledge to improve the long-term health and well-being of marine and coastal ecosystems for the benefit of future generations in Aotearoa and beyond.

We, the authors, are an interdisciplinary, Indigenous-led group of marine researchers of Māori and Pākehā (settler) heritage. The perspectives on law, language and knowledge are premised on our hapū (subtribes, groups or clan) perspectives from the Bay of Plenty and Northland, acknowledging that other iwi (largest societal group, people, nation or tribe) and hapū may draw different interpretations. Our experience spans biological, physical and social sciences and humanities, including ecology, biology, Indigenous (Māori) language, culture, environmental ethics and law. Our shared commitment is to improve the health of the marine and coastal areas, uphold place-based Indigenous knowledge and rangatiratanga (chiefly authority, autonomy) and cultivate the decentralisation of Western knowledge (Stein et al., 2024). Our arguments are informed by a detailed review of the relevant marine legal documents – legislation, case law, policy, legislative submissions – as well as Indigenous-led marine practices and marine sciences and policy literature.

Marine and Coastal Relationships in Aotearoa

In Western societies, the main response to biophysical threats, including in marine and coastal contexts, has been to devise legal frameworks that seek to preserve and protect nature from human exploitation (Weddell, 2023, p. 140). The Convention on Biological Diversity requires States to “[d]evelop national strategies, plans or programmes for the conservation and sustainable use of biological diversity” (United Nations, 1992, art 6). The Global Biodiversity Framework sets a series of targets for the preservation of biodiversity, including that by 2030, 30% of the world’s marine territories will be under “effective conservation” through “protected” marine areas (The Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework, 2022).

However, “conservation,” “protection” and “preservation” ideals are rooted in a dualist Western ontology (Fisher et al., 2022), in which nature preservation is separated from human use (Brockington, 2002; Tănăsescu, 2022). This approach has been described as “environmental colonialism” (O’Donnell et al., 2020), producing negative impacts on Indigenous Peoples and their culture, livelihoods and traditions throughout the world (McCormack, 2021). Conservation and environmental law frameworks have primarily focused on the protection of largely unmodified environments, while de-emphasising the need for restoration of degraded areas. Tănăsescu (2022, p. 89) reminds us that there are ways of relating to the natural environment that are mutually beneficial and restorative.

Māori are characterised by kin-based relationships or whakapapa (genealogical links, ancestry), which encompasses immediate whānau (family), wider family hapū and iwi (Ka’ai, 2004; Roberts, 2013; Walker, 2004). Whakapapa is the core fabric of Māori society, the sacredness that flows from the divine by way of genealogical networks (Roberts, 2013; Royal, 2005). Whakapapa depicts the creation of humankind and its place within the context of our natural world. Whakapapa is dynamic, evolutionary and fluid, but retains kawa (protocol or etiquette), integrity and origins through the intergenerational transfer of knowledge via one’s relational connection to place (Paul-Burke & Rameka, 2015; Roberts, 2013).

When using natural resources, Māori are guided by both kawa and tikanga (customary law), such as those relating to gathering shellfish, whereby shellfish is never eaten or processed at the gathering site, and only one species is taken at a time (Whaanga, 2012), to maintain the inherent expressions of tapu (sacredness) and reverence (Apiti et al., 2023; Kennedy & Jefferies, 2009; Roberts, 2013). Each person’s actions and behaviours are imbued with mana, which has many meanings, but is most commonly understood as authority, prestige or supernatural power (Ka’ai, 2004; Paul-Burke, Ngarimu-Cameron, et al., 2022). In the wider context, mana also invokes Māori sovereignty (Durie, 1998; Ka’ai, 2004; Marsden, 2003). Behaving in accordance with both tapu and its complementary opposite, noa (common or not sacred), Māori seek to maintain utu or te whē (reciprocal obligations of care and balance; Ballara, 2003; Kennedy, 2017; Marsden, 2003) of the natural world, enabling the sustainable use of resources.

Māori developed extensive knowledge, skills and understanding of their lands and waters in the 800 years prior to the arrival of British settlers (McCormack, 2017; Skipper, 2020). Early settlers’ descriptions of the volume, accessibility and stability of Aotearoa’s coastal fisheries (Colenso, 1869; Dieffenbach, 1843) are testament to the sustainable fishing practices that had been developed to support increasing human populations (Campbell et al., 2025; Paulin, 2007). Hersoug (2003) describes the extent of mātauranga held regarding fish species and fishing techniques, as outlined in the following quote: “pre–European Māori fishing provided the main source of sustenance, with methods of procuring fish based on careful observations of generations of fisherman. Fish were taken with nets – some over a mile in length – traps, spears and hook-and-line” (p. 11).

The concept of mana moana (historical and territorial authority for the sea) helps explain Māori connection to sea, ocean and coast, denoting the authority or jurisdiction held by hapū or whānau over a particular resource area. While beliefs and practices vary between iwi and hapū, Māori relationships with te taiao (the environment) are generally underpinned by reciprocal obligations of care (kaitiakitanga – stewardship, caretakership) to enable the sustainable long-term use and enjoyment of natural resources (Henwood & Henwood, 2011; Waitangi Tribunal, 1989, 1992b). Kaitiakitanga is a place-based resource management approach that conceives of humans as an integral part of the ecosystem, both as carers and consumers of resources (Ngāti Porou, 2015; Paul-Burke & Rameka, 2015; Walker et al., 2019). In Te Ao Māori, the responsibilities of kaitiakitanga transcend Western legal title boundaries to encompass the totality of the environment and all who are connected to it (Mutu, 2020).

Obligation of hunga tiaki (Māori caretakers or guardians) towards oceans and coasts sit uneasily alongside scientific management approaches to environmental “conservation,” “protection” and “preservation.” For example, Crown fisheries management often permits year-round fishing, whereas traditional Māori practices are guided by the maramataka (lunar calendar), which regulates fishing according to season, species and lunar cycles, ensuring ecological balance, sustainability and cultural continuity (Martin, 2025). Another example of underpinning worldviews in tension is that Crown fisheries management often emphasises maximum yield, quotas or catch limits, where Māori customary practices incorporate seasonal restrictions, such as rāhui (temporary customary closures), to allow stocks to replenish, and only taking the required quantities (Whaanga, 2012).

An example of this preservationist approach in Aotearoa is the establishment of marine protected areas (MPAs; Macpherson, 2023), which typically prohibit extractive activities such as commercial fishing (Ballantine, 2014) and may even impede traditional customary practices (see Attorney-General v Trustees of the Motiti Rohe Moana Trust [2019] NZCA 532), even when these are part of long-standing Indigenous resource management practices. One such practice is rāhui, a cultural management approach that prohibits the taking, harvesting or use of a natural resource for a certain period of time. This method serves to conserve ecosystems through seasonal or temporary closures, restore depleted resources and maintain the spiritual and cultural connection between people and the environment. Although intended to have similar conservation outcomes, MPAs, which represent a permanent ban of the extraction of any species, have often resulted in severing spiritual and cultural connections to place. This is largely owing to exclusionary consultation processes with local iwi or hapū. A notable example of this is the Motunau Island case, discussed later in this article. In the following sections, we detail how Māori relationships with coastal and marine areas have been encroached upon and enclosed because of colonisation, through inconsistent but mutually reinforcing Crown practices of resource extraction, exclusion and conservation.

Colonising Marine and Coastal Relationships in Aotearoa

Māori approaches to resource management were largely disregarded following colonisation of Aotearoa by British settlers from the 1800s. Although some northern Māori signed a declaration of their independence, known as “He Whakaputanga o Te Rangatiratanga o Nu Tirene,” in 1834 (O’Malley, 2017/2023, p. 25; Walker, 2004; Ward, 1973), in 1840, the Crown and various Māori chiefs signed Te Tiriti o Waitangi (The Treaty of Waitangi). After signing Te Tiriti, the Crown assumed sovereignty over Aotearoa and accelerated its colonisation project, despite significant differences between the Māori and English versions in terms of respective rights and interests retained by each party (Bargh, 2016; Jackson, 2013; Walker, 2004). The rest of the 19th century is characterised by intensive European settlement and war, as Māori resisted Crown authority and land acquisition, and disputed their claim to sovereignty, claiming that the Treaty, rather than ceding sovereignty, guaranteed Tino Rangatiratanga (absolute sovereignty or self-determination), and that the Crown’s assertion of sovereignty was contrary to the Treaty and international law (Harris, 2004; Ward, 1973).

Despite the imposition of Crown legal frameworks, Māori continued their economic activities related to lands, oceans and coasts (Petrie, 2006). In the mid-19th century, Māori were considered major players in Aotearoa’s shipping industry, marking a transformation in their technology, economy and social structure (Barber, 2003; Petrie, 2006). However, despite the recognition of Tino Rangatiratanga over their lands and resources in Te Tiriti, Māori rights, interests and authority over Marine and Coastal areas since colonisation, have been largely disregarded or overridden (Bambridge, 2016; Tau, 2006). This has occurred through a series of laws, policies and practices that sought to facilitate encroachment into Māori marine and coastal authority, rights, interests and benefits via (a) excluding Māori from legal regimes that authorised the productive and beneficial use of marine and coastal environments and (b) subjecting Māori to conservation regimes that overrode the exercise of their marine and coastal relationships, as well as resource management authority.

Legislating Displacement: Excluding Māori from the Benefit of Land and Resource Rights

During the 19th century, successive legislation facilitated Crown control of, and settler encroachment into, coastal marine environments and the accumulation of benefits from resources. During this time, much Māori land was converted from Māori customary title to readily alienable freehold title through the Native Land Court process (Erueti, 2003; Native Lands Act 1862; Native Lands Act 1865). Together with an aggressive purchasing campaign and Crown confiscation, this facilitated European settlement and displaced many Māori from their coastal territories (Boast, 2013; Jackson, 2013; Ward, 1973). The Oyster Fisheries Act 1866, enacted to incentivise and regulate the exponential growth of the oyster industry, paved the way for successive legislation that overrode Māori rights in coastal areas and excluded Māori from commercial fisheries (Jackson, 2013; Ministry of Fisheries, 2009; Paulin, 2007). Māori fishing rights were also recognised in early legislation (Jackson, 2013), for example, the Fish Protection Act 1877, which sought to regulate fisheries, included a savings provision that

[n]othing in this Act contained shall be deemed to repeal, alter, or affect any of the provisions of the Treaty of Waitangi, or to take Treaty of Waitangi away, annul, or abridge any of the rights of the aboriginal natives to any fishery secured to them thereunder. (s 8)

Similarly, the Sea Fisheries Amendment Act 1903 provided that “[n]othing in this Act shall affect any existing Māori fishing rights” (s 14), a provision that was carried through to the Fisheries Act 1983. However, over time, the imposition of Crown law and regulation meant that traditional, community-based resource management, including Māori fishing practices, such as seasonal harvesting in commercial use were gradually eroded, and Māori were relegated to a subsistence-based economy at best—and absolute poverty at worst (Orbell, 1996; Petrie, 2006).

By the 1970s, the global Indigenous rights movement reached Aotearoa, and Māori mobilised in calls for the Crown to “Honour the Treaty” (Mutu, 2019) and respect their rights and interests. The Crown passed the Treaty of Waitangi Act 1975, which established the Waitangi Tribunal to address Māori grievances regarding Crown Treaty breaches. By the late 1980s, many claims had been made to the Tribunal, some of which sought the restoration of access and cultural rights to fisheries (Mahuika, 2006). These included the Ngāi Tahu (South Island iwi; WAI 27) and Muriwhenua (northern North Island iwi; WAI 22) claims, through which the Waitangi Tribunal (1989, 1992a, 1992b) recognised a range of Crown Treaty breaches relating to the seas and fisheries, including failures to support the Māori fishing industry. Māori took to the courts to defend their fisheries rights and interests, including the landmark case Te Weehi v Regional Fisheries Officer [1986] 1 NZLR 682, in which Tom Te Weehi from Ngāti Porou iwi successfully avoided prosecution for possessing pāua or abalone (Haliotis iris) under the Fishing (Amateur Fishing) Regulations 1983 based on the saving provision in the Fisheries Act 1983: “[n]othing in this Act shall affect any Māori fishing right.”

Ironically, by the early 1980s, fish stocks were seriously overexploited (Hersoug, 2003; Mahuika, 2006). The government proposed a new Quota Management System, with the intention of sustainably managing fish stocks within the waters of Aotearoa via a system of transferable property rights to catch fish for commercial use (McCormack, 2020). But, in establishing a new system of property rights for fishing, the Crown breached its obligations to Māori, who had recognised fishing rights under common law and Te Tiriti that were protected by the then Fisheries Act 1983. In response to legal and political action, the Māori Fisheries Act 1989 was enacted to resolve long-standing fisheries disputes by establishing the Māori Fisheries Commission, creating the Aotearoa Fishing Company, transferring 10% of existing quota to Māori and introducing a legal mechanism for customary co-management through taiāpure - local fisheries of special significance, which may have additional fishing rules, comprising estuarine or coastal areas that are of significant food, spiritual or cultural reasons. These provisions were later incorporated into the Fisheries Act 1996, and the original Act was replaced by the Māori Fisheries Act 2004. This historical progression is often overlooked, including in Bodwitch (2017), an otherwise insightful analysis. Furthermore, both Stephens (2013) and Bodwitch (2017) raise concerns about the financialisation of settlements and its impacts on iwi approaches to their kaitiaki (guardianship) responsibilities. The settlements also provided other commercial fishing interests to Māori with the ability for individual iwi settlement rights to be collectively managed and allocated by the Māori Fisheries Commission (now known as Te Ohu Kaimoana) (Māori Fisheries Act 2004).

The Māori fisheries settlement also recognised and enabled the protection of Māori customary fishing rights and their management. This is provided for through the Fisheries (Kaimoana Customary Fishing) Regulations 1998 and South Island Customary Fishing Regulations 1999, which enable locally managed Mātaitai reserves – to recognise and provide for traditional fishing through local iwi or hapū management – taiāpure, temporary customary closures or rāhui and restrictions on fishing methods under sections 186A and 186B of the Fisheries Act. However, formal legal and administrative processes to establish these customary management areas are bureaucratic, privilege Western science and Crown retention of power, and provide inadequate funding to support equitable co-management aspirations (Kainamu & Rolleston-Gabel, 2023; Marriott & Alinaghi, 2021; Urlich et al., 2022).

Iwi and hapū Māori have also been excluded from rights and interests in the foreshore and seabed since the British assumption of sovereignty. In 2003, the Court of Appeal recognised that Māori customary title to the foreshore and seabed, in the area between the low water mark and mean high water springs, had not been lawfully extinguished and could be recognised by the courts (Ngāti Apa v Attorney-General [2003] NZCA 117). After a period of political controversy and uncertainty, in 2011, the government passed the Marine and Coastal Area (Takutai Moana) Act 2011, which provided that the common marine and coastal area – from mean high water springs seaward to 12 nautical miles – can be “owned by no one” (s 11), but sets out the process by which Māori can apply to the High Court for recognition of customary marine title or protected customary rights in the marine and coastal area – or obtain these in direct negotiations with the Crown. An applicant must prove to the Court that it “holds the specified area in accordance with tikanga” and has “exclusively used and occupied it from 1840 to the present day without substantial interruption” – s 58, the requirements of which were amended to make the test harder to meet in 2025. The process is widely considered unjust and inequitable as it requires Māori to prove, via lengthy and costly court processes, the continuance of their marine relationships that have been unfairly affected by colonisation, that is, Waitangi Tribunal (2020), The Marine and Coastal Area (Takutai Moana) Act 2011 Inquiry Stage 1. Report: pre-publication version [WAI 2660].

Crown laws and policies have excluded Māori from legal procedures, obstructing their use, ownership and receipt of benefits from coastal land and resources. Even gains from recognition of Māori customary rights in the marine and coastal area under the MACA Act is under threat, as the current (2026) coalition government moves to limit the scope for recognition and overturn the decisions of the courts (Cheng & Gabel, 2024). However, the High Court recently declared in Te Ohu Kaimoana v Attorney-General [2025] NZHC 657 that it was a breach for the Crown to appropriate settlement quota from Māori under the Fisheries Act 1996 without providing redress that preserves the value of the quota acquired as part of the 1992 settlement. The High Court reasoning emphasised that “Treaty settlements are steps towards reconciliation, the restoration of mana and the putting right of historic wrongs.”

Further Encroachment on Māori Rights and Interests

As well as directly appropriating Māori rights to coastal lands and resources, Crown authorities have further encroached into Māori cultural and economic livelihoods through the imposition of resource management and conservation laws and policies (Bodwitch, 2017; Bodwitch et al., 2022; Sullivan, 2017). Land use change and development intensified after settler encroachment into Māori coastal territories in the 20th century, as coastal settler landholders began to transition farming land into holiday homes (Carter, 2018; Pearson, 2021; Xie et al., 2025). Originally, with no planning or regulation, these coastal developments went unabated (Carter, 2018), but in the mid-20th century, the government passed the Town and Country Planning Act 1953 and in 1968 established the National Development Council to oversee coastal developments (Morton et al., 1973; Peart, 2009). The subsequent Town and Country Planning Act 1977 was the first piece of legislation to recognise the relationship between Māori and their culture, traditions and ancestral lands. It was followed by the Resource Management Act 1991 (RMA), which delegates resource planning and consenting – including in the coastal marine area – to regional councils under the overarching objective of promoting the “sustainable management of natural and physical resources” (s 5).

The RMA includes some obligations to Māori (Jacobson et al., 2016; Reid & Rout, 2020), including that decision-makers are to “recognise and provide for” the relationship of Māori, their culture and traditions with their ancestral lands, water, sites, wāhi tapu (sacred sites) and other taonga (treasures) (s 6), “have particular regard” to kaitiakitanga (s 7) and “take into account” the principles of the Treaty (s 8). The RMA also provides for a number of potential collaborative governance mechanisms that could be utilised to involve Māori in marine governance and planning; however, these have not typically been employed in marine environments, and decision-makers are generally considered as failing to fairly collaborate with Māori in resource management (Macpherson et al., 2023).

To highlight Māori agency within marine governance and in the exercising of rangatiratanga, hapū in Northland demonstrated adaptation of statutory tools under the RMA, to uphold customary principles when legal mechanisms for rāhui proved insufficient (Stephens, 2013; Urlich et al., 2022). Similarly, Te Ohu Kaimoana’s stewardship of pan-iwi quota rights reflects a strategic assertion of collective Māori interests within the commercial fisheries framework, even as tensions with place-based hapū reveal the complexity of self-determination in a plural governance landscape (Bodwitch, 2017). These examples illustrate that Māori are not passive recipients of policy but active agents navigating and reshaping regulatory systems to maintain authority over marine resources. However, we note here that the RMA is proposed to be replaced in 2026 with two new pieces of legislation: the Natural Environmental Bill 2025 and the Planning Bill 2025.

In the absence of recognised authority for resource management in marine and coastal areas, Māori have continued to practise kaitiakitanga and Tino Rangatiratanga (Reid & Rout, 2020). An example is the rāhui placed on the Mōtū River on the east coast of Aotearoa by Te Whānau-ā-Apanui iwi since 1900, following the tragic drowning deaths of 16 children and two adults. The rāhui was implemented to allow the river to wash away the associated impurities of the tragedy, as well as allow a spiritual pause for all associated with the accident. Since the establishment of the rāhui, the river has been closed to the public every Saturday and on the 12th day of each month as a memorial of the tragedy and to allow the river time to rest from all activities. It is also closed to fishing each year from 1 June to 1 November, a period known as huamata (the traditional time for planting and harvesting). The Mōtū River is revered as a sacred place or pātaka kai (food pantry) for the iwi (Maxwell & Penetito, 2007; Trotman & Rāpihana, 2022). What makes the Mōtū River case effective, despite any formal conferral of legal authority by the Crown, is the education and regulation by locals to inform users and their voluntary compliance with the rāhui (Trotman & Rāpihana, 2022).

Marine conservation law and policy is largely led by the Department of Conservation, which must also be consulted in the preparation of regional and coastal plans by local authorities (Macpherson, 2023). Aotearoa’s conservation laws have had the effect of further enclosing Māori out of their traditional marine relationships. Specifically, Māori have been excluded in various ways from accessing, fishing or collecting resources across a range of MPAs, which are typically located along small terrestrial edges of the coast and restrict certain activities (such as commercial fishing and mining) in the area, but allow other activities (such as recreational fishing) to occur (Ballantine & Langlois, 2008). These include a range of marine parks and reserves established under the Marine Reserves Act 1971, Marine Mammals Protection Act 1978, Marine Protection Rules (Maritime Transport Act 1994) or other policy (Macpherson et al., 2023).

MPAs are a key concern for Māori, as they may override the rights, access and authority of Māori around the coast (Watson et al., 2021). An example can be seen in the creation of a no-take MPA around Motiti and surrounding islands by the regional council following a series of court cases concerning the relationship between fisheries legislation and the RMA (Motiti Rohe Moana Trust v Bay of Plenty Regional Council [2016] NZEnvC240; Attorney-General v Trustees of the Motiti Rohe Moana Trust [2019] NZCA 532). The unilateral imposition of this no-take area has the impact of preventing local hapū Ngāti Whakahemo from accessing their traditional fisheries on Motunau Island (WAI 2521, Waitangi Tribunal n.d., p. 141). Their legal title to Motunau had been recognised by the Native Land Court in 1878, and despite the imposition of a wildlife sanctuary around the island under the Wildlife Act 1953, Ngāti Whakahemo were still entitled to enter onto the island to fish, harvest tītī (mutton-bird) and kaimoana (shellfish) and camp (Wildlife Sanctuary (Motunau Island) Order 1969). The no-take MPA was imposed without consultation with Ngāti Whakahemo (Ogden, 2021).

Contentions surrounding MPAs are not unique to Aotearoa. In British Columbia, Canada, similar issues arise regarding the recognition of Indigenous communities as co-management partners in both development and decision-making processes, as well as the acknowledgement of their rights and authority within government-led governance frameworks (Watson et al., 2021).

Repositioning Respect and Reciprocity

Marine biodiversity continues to decline, and it is clear from the discussion in the previous section that relevant Māori rights and interests have not been adequately respected (Rout et al., 2024). Crown legal and policy frameworks have disregarded Māori sovereignty over their ancestral marine spaces (Bargh, 2016; Joseph et al., 2020) and have concentrated coastal lands and resources in the hands of others.

Indigenous relational approaches to natural resources around the world position nature as an ancestor living and under the care of their related communities, through reciprocating benefits of food, shelter, clothing, adornments and spiritual nourishment (Arstein-Kerslake et al., 2021). Relational approaches reflect the idea that there is no delineation between using and protecting nature.

Mātauranga, through kaitiakitanga practices, provides a significant opportunity to apply Indigenous knowledge of the natural world to contemporary socio-environmental challenges (Roberts et al., 1995; Rout et al., 2024) in ways that do not polarise environmental protection and use. Kaitiakitanga is increasingly embraced, not only by Māori but also by non-Indigenous allies. One such example is evident in the Trans-Tasman Resources (TTR) case, relating to consents under the Exclusive Economic Zone and Continental Shelf (Environmental Effects) Act 2012, to mine iron sands in the South Taranaki Bight (Macpherson et al., 2021) where iwi such as Ngāti Ruanui and Te Kāhui o Rauru partnered with conservation boards, non-governmental organisations (NGOs), fisheries groups and other ocean community user groups such as surfers to challenge the consents (Widener, 2018). The coalition emphasised tikanga Māori and Treaty of Waitangi principles, framing seabed mining as incompatible with kaitiakitanga (guardianship) and iwi rights (Wheaton, 2024). Scientific evidence on environmental risks was combined with cultural arguments, creating a strong multidimensional case against mining (Franks Ogilvie, 2024; Macpherson et al., 2021). The outcome was that the Supreme Court unanimously dismissed TTR’s appeal, quashing the consent. These alliances challenge entrenched governance structures that are positioned to gain significant economic benefits as well as shift the conservation discourse within Aotearoa and the wider Pacific (Bambridge, 2016; McCormack, 2011, 2018). Kahui and Richards (2014) argue that kaitiakitanga and other Māori resource management approaches can be used, such as seasonal fishing practices versus all year-round contemporary commercial practices, together with other models such as ecosystem-based management (Joseph et al., 2020) to support sustainable resource use (New Zealand’s Biological Heritage Science Challenge Ngā Koiora Tuku Iho, Adaptive Governance and Policy Working Group, 2023). Such an approach does not mean that human resource use is completely excluded, but that impacts on mauri (living essence) are managed, to not compromise the overall ecosystem, thus maintaining the well-being of the community as a whole.

Drawing on comparative studies of marine biodiversity conservation in Aotearoa and Canada, Stephenson et al. (2014) show how the “recognition of Indigenous interests in fisheries management is creating a distinctive ‘third space’ of biocultural conservation that differs quite radically from the polarising all-or-nothing regime of commercial fisheries vs marine reserves” (p. 257). Degrees of marine protection may be combined with fishing activities in ways that respect Indigenous authority (Chávez et al., 2018). As noted earlier, in a speech at the 2024 UNESCO Oceans Decade Conference, Ken Paul referred to this as a need to move from “marine protected areas” to “marine respected areas” (Paul, 2024).

Enabling Te Ao Māori, tikanga and mātauranga in marine and coastal relations will require collaboration and sharing jurisdiction with iwi and hapū. When governance is shared, it may be interpreted (among other ways) as giving Māori their own sphere of authority or decision-making power (Joseph, 2022, p. 148). However, embedding such a partnership approach for the governance of marine areas appears elusive, especially in the current political climate where te reo (Māori language) and Te Tiriti o Waitangi are being publicly challenged by the coalition government (Shaw, 2023). Similar challenges are evident in other nations striving for equitable participation. For instance, Vaughan et al. (2017) highlight that in Hawai’i, achieving meaningful recognition of traditional customary practices would require fundamental institutional change. Central to this process is ensuring that legal frameworks remain flexible enough to effectively accommodate traditional epistemologies and practices.

Even in the current political context, there are glimpses of what marine law and policy that respects Māori rights, interests and authority might look like (Fisher et al., 2022; Rout et al., 2024). An example can be seen in the restoration project for kūtai (green-lipped mussel) within Ōhiwa harbour, known as Awhi Mai, Awhi Atu (Paul-Burke, Ngarimu, et al., 2022). This iwi-led research project used bio-waste materials, called taura kuku, as biodegradable spat lines, instead of traditional synthetic lines, and explored habitat connection and restoration through Māori science. The project’s benefits were observed through another large research project within Aotearoa called the Moana Project, which found, through sequencing of DNA, that the mussel spat from Ōhiwa harbour was seeding the Whakatōhea mussel aquaculture facility further along the east coast of the North Island (MetOcean, 2024). For Māori, this connectivity of relationships through the ocean emphasises why mātauranga is integral to implementing a kaitiakitanga approach to marine and coastal environments.

Building on these examples, Stevens et al. (2021) further demonstrate how traditional navigation systems reliant on celestial cues, wave patterns and ocean swells offer critical insights for contemporary coastal management by foregrounding deep, relational understandings of the marine environment. Seasonal tohu (environmental signals) embedded within oral traditions and maramataka continue to guide resource use and harvesting cycles, providing a time-tested framework for sustainable and place-based marine practices. Likewise, recent work (Lyver et al., 2024) highlights mātauranga as an essential foundation for biodiversity conservation, with national workshops confirming that practices such as rangatiratanga and kaitiakitanga are central in shaping Aotearoa’s long-term vision for ecological restoration and the Department of Conservation policy direction.

Importantly, for Aotearoa to move beyond exclusionary regimes requires an appraisal of how areas are designated, consultation practices, agreement on levels of protection, partnership and power-sharing to avoid overriding of Māori resource rights.

Conclusion

In this article, we have examined the ways in which marine and coastal laws and policies in Aotearoa have systematically overridden Māori culture, practices, knowledges and relational ways of knowing, being and doing—and privileged other knowledge systems in doing so. This pattern has been entrenched through successive waves of legislation that first excluded Māori rights and interests over marine and coastal spaces and later constrained their ability to exercise authority within their own traditional domains through conservation and environmental regulation. Yet, despite these structural constraints, opportunities remain to address the persistent deficits within national marine and coastal policy frameworks. Mātauranga-based restoration projects such as Awhi Mai, Awhi Atu (Paul-Burke, Ngarimu-Cameron, et al., 2022) exemplify what becomes possible when Māori resource management and leadership is not only recognised but also empowered. Highlighted are Indigenous innovations, international and local, which are scalable in designing templates for global marine governance reforms that prioritise Indigenous agency and rangatiratanga. However, to preserve the integrity and avert de-contextualisation of Indigenous knowledges, the dissemination of such innovation must remain Indigenous-led and anchored in place, ensuring that their application elsewhere is governed by the cultural protocols and epistemologies from which they derive.

This article advances marine governance scholarship by introducing a new conceptual framing that shifts from a preservationist approach to marine conservation towards “marine respected areas.” This approach is grounded in Māori relational philosophies—a reframing that is largely absent from existing Aotearoa-focused literature concerning marine conservation—and reorientates marine governance towards reciprocity, responsibility and place-based authority. In doing so, we trace how successive Crown laws and policies have systematically displaced Māori authority in marine and coastal domains while highlighting contemporary Māori innovations—legal, cultural and regulatory—that actively reshape governance structures from within.

Finally, we argue for an Aotearoa-specific biocultural “third space” that operationalises mātauranga Māori as a governance framework capable of informing transformative pluralistic marine policy—one that reconciles biodiversity objectives with rangatiratanga, kaitiakitanga and enduring cultural continuity. Here we have positioned Māori governance models as transformative rather than peripheral, offering pathways for legal pluralism, co-design and biocultural conservation that move beyond the dichotomy of Western conservation and extractive use.

Emerging partnerships, such as those evident in the TTR litigation case, demonstrate the potential of these approaches to weave cultural, legal and scientific strategies in ways that strengthen recognition of Māori sovereignty and reshape national debates on marine governance (Franks Ogilvie, 2024; Macpherson et al., 2021). While shifts may unsettle established power structures (Clements et al., 2021), Māori have sustained their knowledge tradition, laws and relational responsibilities to the marine environment across generations, with or without Crown recognition. Indigenously positioned governance frameworks grounded in kaitiakitanga, rangatiratanga and mātauranga Māori offer compelling and durable pathways to marine and coastal futures that harmonise biodiversity conservation and cultural continuity. In asserting the centrality of Māori governance and mātauranga, we chart a pathway towards ocean futures in which ecological integrity and cultural authority are restored together, offering a paradigm shift with enduring national and global implications.