Model Over Matter: How CSIRO’s Simulations Are Sinking Australia’s Fisheries

The Prestige of the Lab Coat

Few names carry as much scientific clout in Australia as CSIRO. For decades, it has been the trusted beacon of Australian science — the architect behind Wi-Fi. But in the realm of fisheries management, CSIRO’s influence is far less celebrated by those who depend on the sea for their livelihood. For them, the lab coat carries a different meaning: it has become a symbol of distant decision-making, unmoored from the waterline.

Fish by Formula: The Rise of Modelling Over Measurement

Modern fisheries management has shifted dramatically — from trawling nets to trawling spreadsheets. At the centre of this shift is CSIRO. Armed with algorithms, proxies, and predictive models, CSIRO scientists are now tasked with estimating fish stock health — not by measuring fish directly, but by modelling how they should behave.

This “management by model” approach is seductive in its simplicity: elegant graphs, peer-reviewed publications, and assumptions stacked neatly into conclusions. But on the water, fishers tell a different story. Fish stocks deemed depleted are appearing in abundance.

Seasonal patterns are shifting. Shoals that were said to be declining are thriving — just not in the same places, or under the same conditions, that CSIRO’s models anticipate.

And yet, it is the model — not the lived reality — that shapes policy decisions.

Blindfolded Science

Who Gets a Say?

Fishers have spent decades logging catches, observing changes, and adapting to the sea’s quiet signals. But these observations — recorded in logbooks and passed down through generations — are often considered anecdotal or irrelevant by CSIRO. Instead, fishers are expected to accept stock assessments built on assumptions they had no part in verifying.

This exclusion of real-world expertise is not accidental. It is structural. CSIRO’s methods reward consistency, not complexity — and fishers, with their variable methods, adaptive gears, and independent thinking, introduce too much of the latter.

The Consultation Illusion

CSIRO regularly highlights its stakeholder engagement efforts — citing workshops, feedback forums, and “co-designed” processes. On paper, it looks inclusive.

But many in the industry have witnessed a different reality: consultation that feels more like box-ticking than collaboration. Fishers report offering real, firsthand data — only to see their insights brushed aside in favour of modelling outputs that had already been locked in. Even when discrepancies are raised, the model often stands unchanged, and policy proceeds as planned.

The process may look participatory, but the outcomes suggest otherwise. When the lived knowledge of those on the water is sidelined, trust in the science — and the system — erodes.

Sometimes, the feedback shows up — if at all — in a footnote, with tiny font, that isn’t referenced in the final recommendations.

Follow the Funding

CSIRO is not immune to institutional gravity. Over the past two decades, its fisheries division has received consistent funding from government departments with vested interests in conservation policy, quota schemes, and international climate agendas. Add to this a growing number of partnerships with NGOs and overseas grant bodies, and it becomes difficult to claim neutrality.

When funding favours “sustainable development goals” and “biodiversity targets,” the pressure to produce policy-friendly science is real. Who funds the research, shapes the research questions — and sometimes, the conclusions.

The Consequences of Command Science

The fallout of this lab-led governance is felt most painfully in small fishing communities. Fisheries closed. Quotas slashed. Licences made worthless. Boats decommissioned. Families forced out of generational businesses — not because they overfished, but because a model suggested scarcity where fishers saw plenty.

Take Mulloway. Or School Shark. Or the blanket approach to estuarine species. Across the board, decisions have leaned on precautionary principles, favouring inaction over adaptation. And with every shutdown, the same logic is offered: “The science says.”

But whose science? And who bears the burden of its errors?

What Science Should Look Like

We do not oppose science. We oppose science done without scrutiny — science that silences rather than collaborates. Fisheries management should not be the exclusive domain of distant modellers. It must involve co-design. Scientists, local ecologists, statisticians, and working fishers — sitting at the same table, validating one another’s work.

This means returning to observational studies. Funding fieldwork. Treating fishers not as obstacles, but as experts. Developing community-based monitoring systems that test models against reality. And when the two diverge, having the humility to correct course.

Conclusion: The Need for Scientific Humility

CSIRO’s influence is undeniable. But power without humility is dangerous. We call for greater transparency, critical peer review of assumptions, and genuine inclusion of industry in the process.

Fishers are not anti-science. But they are tired of science that doesn’t listen.

Because if the model is wrong — and the sea is right — who pays the price?