Should you visit Antarctica? Is polar tourism doing more harm than good?

Antarctica is the coldest, most remote continent. It’s also one of the fastest-growing tourist destinations on the planet. But as temperatures rise in this pristine ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ destination, some tourism luminaries are asking if we should be visiting at all. Thomas Bywater reports from the shore of ‘Continent Number 7′, wondering if he should have stayed at home.

Last year, the body governing for tourism in Antarctica, IAATO, projected annual visitors to the frozen continent would exceed 100,000 for the first time. Considering tourists numbered just a few hundred three decades ago, it’s an increase in visitation more befitting a theme park, not a science reserve.

As issues of climate impact and over-tourism loom large, this milestone has sparked alarm.

Some say Antarctica is the last place on Earth that tourists should be visiting.

It’s a destination I’ve been fascinated with too, ever since being trapped on the edge of the sub-Antarctic during the the Covid 19 shutdown. But, after a brief pandemic pause, annual visitor numbers have continued to climb unaffected.

Tourism has long since eclipsed science as the number one reason people visit the southern continent. Though this distinction has been blurred in places. Many research stations are now inviting visitors and some tourist ships are being used as platforms for science.

This new emphasis on embedded research programmes has raised the issue of “science washing”.

With each data-collection mission, university researcher or guest lecturer taken on Antarctic cruise ships, it’s getting harder to tell the difference between token science and genuine research.

Or if the increase in tourist vessels is contributing to our understanding of the polar region, not just its rapid melting.

Do citizen science projects bring value to the places they visit, or is it the equivalent of lipstick on an elephant seal?

Antarctica: Sciencewashing tourism in the white continent

For the past seven decades, Antarctica has enjoyed the protection of international treaties which made it the exclusive domain of science. Today, just 5 per cent of visitors are there in connection with science programmes on research bases. Although the line between tourist vessel and research mission is now not always so clear cut.

With the increase of tourist shipping visiting Antarctica, the volume of field research has actually grown.

Most tourist vessels will provide accommodation and platforms for research. It’s part of their social licence, operating in fragile and rarely visited parts of the globe. It is also a gift to the marketing of these trips.

Cruise expedition holidays are now sold with the promise of being able to contribute to science. An important consideration for worldly tourists looking to absolve their well-founded concerns about the places being visited.

For expedition tourism companies like Hurtigruten and Aurora it’s a point of difference from the profligate cruise industry that has been the target of climate concern.

There is no doubt that there is good work being done with data collected from tourist vessels. But can the value of lessons learned be balanced with the impact of visiting Antarctica?

“Citizen science” projects have become a way of turning the growing visitor numbers to the advantage of Antarctic conservation.

Embedded research teams and guest scientists are a welcome addition to any ship in the remote parts of the world. But data can be collected by anyone.

On a single visit to a penguin colony by a cruise party, there are probably more pictures than a one-man research team could take in a month. There is definitely no shortage of hobbyists and nature photographers on a cruise ship.

Citizen science projects are a way to harvest some of this information, surreptitiously recorded on a visit to the region.

Apps such as iNaturalist allow anyone to submit their photos for identification to build a database of the changing habitat.

Simon Delauny, guest ornithologist on Hurtigurten’s MV Fridhjof Nanasen, says it opens up the continent to types of research that would be too costly or impractical to conduct by traditional research missions.

“The work I do on bird numbers and distribution would otherwise not be possible if these ships were not visiting Antarctica,” says Delauny.

Despite being way down the pecking order in terms of resource allocation and funding from polar science bodies, when compared to radio telescopes and drilling for ice samples, bird migration data is of great value to understanding the changing continent. Conservation and bird research requires a lot of data collection, and it is also very difficult to do from a distance. You need people out among the icebergs.

“There are citizen science programmes going on all over the world. But the fact that we are in Antarctica – which is not much visited, and going to places which are relatively expensive to get to – means that we are collecting data that would otherwise not be collected,” says Delauny.

The explosion in tourism has coincided with the emergence of big data and machine learning. You definitely no longer need a PHD to contribute to the bigger picture of Antarctic research.

HappyWhale is a citizen science project that builds on the fact that there is value in even the most unphotogenic wildlife picture.

Like a fingerprint a whale’s tail or fluke can be used as a unique identifier for an individual whale. This has been used to build a database of more than 322,000 encounters – 280,000 of which have been successfully identified. The project has developed “extremely accurate automated image recognition” for humpback whales using artificial intelligence. While the artistic merit of your holiday snaps may be questionable, they might still have scientific value.

“Having more ships doing more science is of course a good thing,” says Delauny.

“As long as they are doing more science.”

Why are tourists allowed to go to Antarctica?

For the past 65 years Antarctica has been the world’s largest scientific reserve, under the Antarctic Treaty. This international agreement from 1959 banned many other activities from the continent such as mining or weapons testing. Crucially, tourism was not frozen out of the region.

New Zealand is one of the few countries to oppose leisure travel to Antarctica. It is the official policy of MFAT to “work within the Antarctic Treaty System to limit tourism and other non-governmental activities in Antarctica” to minimise environmental impact.

However, due to the region’s status as international territory it can only dissuade visits. Not stop them. Instead, most have chosen to closely regulate the tourism industry, through the treaty.

Since the creation of IAATO 30 years ago, representatives of the tourism industry have had a seat at the Antarctic Treaty council. As the coordinating body overseeing all activities happening below 60′ South, it’s required of tourism operators to provide statistics and reports on proposed activities, but also offer space for researchers.

“IAATO and its members adhere to this principle and actively work to advocate and support science and research on the continent,” read the organisation’s bylaws.

Even at that time when there were only a few hundred visitors a year, polar programmes saw that tourism visits would soon outpace science vessels.

“It’s very logical,” says Tim, Science Coordinator for the MV Fridhjof Nansen.

“There’s no money in science.”

As leader of the ship’s science and education outreach, he manages a floating university faculty of specialists, as well as coordinating with a team of three guest scientists from the University of Tasmania.

“Everyone is competing for the same little bit of money to do their research, whereas in tourism people are paying. So it’s logical there are more tourist ships than there are research vessels.”

Along with the 300 passengers and almost 200 crew, the Nansen carries two historians, a marine scientist, a geologist, an environmental scientist and an ornithologist. All of whom are probably delighted to be on a state-of-the-art cruise ship, rather than a clunky dedicated research vessel.

The majority of research ships are retired Russian icebreakers. None of which have the catering options or sea stabilisers that the Nansen can offer.

It allows for scientists that might not have had the chance to come to these places and collect data they had only dreamed of. All with a degree of luxury that is never guaranteed by either state or university funded research programmes.

The appeal for scientists is obvious but, according to Tim, guests are also thrilled to have research projects on their cruise.

Antarctica: See it before it melts?

There is a theatricality to science done for paying guests. Like the way Antarctica’s busy cruise schedule is spaced to give the impression of a heroically empty wilderness, as much as conservation. A quick look at Cruisemapper via the onboard Wi-Fi will dispel delusions that you’re the only souls for miles. What else might be just for show?

The entire foredeck of deck six on the Nansen is dedicated to research projects. With sample desks, optical microscopes and lecture theatres – it looks like it belongs on a university campus not a pleasure cruise.

Located in a valuable piece of midship real estate, on any other cruise ship there would be a karaoke bar or cabaret theatre in place of the microscope slides.

“What I’ve understood from guests is that they have specifically chosen to sail with us for the science, not just to have margaritas at the bar,” says Tim.

Undoubtedly the research credentials are something expedition cruise companies like Hurtigurten are keen to advertise to passengers. Its ships are contributing pieces of unique research and collecting data that further the understanding of the last great southern wilderness.

It’s no wonder that as climate concerns have grown, Antarctic tourism has increased in popularity.

It’s something that appeals to the kind of tourist who would never consider themselves to be your average “cruise passenger”. (They prefer the term “expedition guest”, actually.) You will absolutely find the margarita-loving adventure tourists and country counters, who are joining to tick off continent number 7.

But more often it is a certain type of high-value traveller, climate conscious yet financially secure enough to afford the $10,000 ticket south. You could say it’s a cruise for “champagne ecologists”, but to dismiss them as the “see it before it melts” crowd – as the polar research community have long called the Antarctic tourists – seems summarily unfair.

You wouldn’t make the trip if you didn’t care at all for the region and its warming waters.

In their uniform of designer polar fleece and Gore Tex shells, aged from their mid-30s to 70s, they want to believe they are saving the planet. That the work being done on cruise ships might be more than window dressing for the conscience.

Most are not blind to the inherent hypocrisy of visiting ice caps on vessels burning marine diesel.

Cruise travel for a long time has been one of the biggest culprits for pollutants, producing per passenger emissions way above even passenger jets according to the International Council on Cleant Transport.

Even the MV Nansen, with its hybrid electric engines and 1000-1500 kWh storage batteries, is not entirely emission-free.

Australian-based Aurora Expeditions says it should be celebrated that more tourists are wanting to see these places first hand, not condemned.

“The polar regions in general are growing significantly in popularity,” says Aurora chief executive Michael Heath. His company still insists that visiting Antarctica the right way can do far more good than harm as a tool for changing attitudes.

“It’s encouraging that people want to travel to and learn about such an incredible destination, and we hope that travellers take the time to do their research and choose responsible operators,” he says.

Aurora’s ships have begun reporting marine pollution using Kiwi-founded data company EyeSea. Something as banal as taking photos of ocean plastic may be the only empirical data on ocean pollution being collected in some of Antarctica’s remote bays.

In many ways tourist vessels have become the eyes and ears for climate change in parts of the Antarctic Peninsula. Though, “citizen science” can only go so far to support the work done by professional researchers.

What conclusion are scientists reaching on Antarctic tourism?

You cannot measure change on a single trip to Antarctica. For those who have dedicated years to observing the slow warming of this part of the world, regularly scheduled shipping and tourism boats are a gift.

Conor McGarry of the University of Tasmania was among the guest researchers travelling with the Fridhjof Nansen over the summer.

There’s no hiding from the scientists that tourism craft visiting the region have increased enormously.

“It’s been the biggest season ever, with 1000 passenger cruise nights and around 20 projects,” he says of the Nansen’s 2023/24 season.

To be able to get into the field with this regularity is ideal for him and his research director, back in Hobart. Counting seals and their habitats, he was able to collect sightings from 32 individuals and over 17 hours of logged time on the brief voyage I was on.

Following eight consecutive seasons of retreating sea ice, there are undeniable impacts on wildlife.

On this trip he observed strange behaviour rarely seen before: seals giving birth on the snow.

“Weddell seals normally give birth on sea ice. With less ice than previous years, they are going onto land to have their pups,” he says, but he is cautious to attribute this directly to more tourists.

“This is not something that increased ships are doing,” he says.

Some of the fastest warming parts of Antarctica are places tourists never go. The South Pole has warmed 0.6 of a degree since the 1990s when IAATO was founded. Three times the rate of anywhere else on Earth.

That was the real message from Antarctica. One that as a tourist cosplaying as a polar scientist was both validating and more deeply disturbing.

Antarctica is not some lab experiment that can be kept pristine by simply keeping tourists out. It’s the litmus paper that tells us what is happening elsewhere.

In the past 30 years less than 0.001 per cent of the world’s population has visited the continent. It’s a statistic as humbling as the privilege of being there.

Taking the seventh continent off your bucket list is not going to save the seals or the ice they rely upon. That will take more radical change in the remaining 90 per cent of the planet. Everything north of the Antarctic circle.