Reform or Sabotage? The Quiet Push to Consolidate NSW Fisheries
- Joshua Van Der Neut
- Jul 25
- 4 min read
While CommFish NSW was formed in response to industry calls for better consultation and representation, the reality is that its structure remains firmly top-down. Fishers are not given the right to elect their own representatives. Instead, all positions on the committee are filled by Ministerial appointment, following a formal nomination process.
To be eligible for one of the thirteen seats, an individual must either be
-an office holder in an industry body representing the fishery, or
-a shareholder who, in the Minister’s view, has demonstrated expertise or leadership within the sector.
In practice, the Minister generally favours the latter — individuals with significant financial investment in the fishery — which often results in representatives who are more aligned with investor interests than with the broader working fleet.
This approach has led to predictable problems. When the same people who vote on policy also stand to benefit financially from those decisions, conflicts of interest emerge. As a result, the committee increasingly reflects an investor-centric mindset, where decisions are shaped by commercial gain rather than the lived experience of small-scale, hands-on fishers. The voices of those still hauling nets, mending gear, and supplying local seafood are too often drowned out by those treating shares as assets rather than access.
“When policy starts chasing the value of shares instead of the value of access, we stop managing a fishery and start managing a financial market — and working fishers get left behind.”
This disconnect raises serious concerns about accountability and representation. The people most affected by CommFish decisions — active commercial fishers — have no real say in who speaks on their behalf. What was intended to be a platform for industry input has instead become a centralised mechanism of control, drifting further from the grassroots values it was meant to uphold. While its formation was driven by legitimate concerns and inquiry-backed reform, CommFish today serves as a reminder that structure matters — and when representation is appointed, not elected, it risks becoming unrepresentative in both voice and purpose.
The March 2025 CommFish meeting revealed just how far this disconnect has gone. The committee considered a recommendation from the TAF Committee to design a scheme for removing a large number of unused meshing and hauling shares — or what they refer to as “fishing effort quota units.” While recognising that the Fisheries Management Act 1994 prevents the government from simply cancelling unused shares, and that no buyout funds exist, the committee floated three strategies to shift unused shares out of the system. These included adjusting total allowable effort (TAEs), raising minimum shareholding requirements, and establishing an industry-funded bursary to voluntarily buy out or redistribute shares.
At face value, these might seem like harmless administrative tweaks — but for working fishers, they carry serious implications. These proposals aim to create scarcity, stimulate trading, and increase the value of shares, which may appeal to absentee shareholders, investors, and bureaucrats. But for those of us on the water, this isn’t about asset appreciation. It’s about having the right to go fishing. I already hold the minimum shares required. I follow the rules. I show up every day and do the work. And now I’m being told that might not be enough — that access could be tied not to effort or sustainability, but to whether I can afford to meet new thresholds or buy back someone else’s disused entitlement.
This isn’t reform. It’s consolidation. Raising the bar, restricting access, or asking active operators to fund the removal of unused shares does nothing to improve sustainability. It merely shrinks the pool of participants to those who can afford to play the game. It rewards those holding paper while punishing those hauling gear. If CommFish wants to know what fishers are trying to achieve, the answer is simple: we’re trying to fish. We’re trying to feed communities, support our families, and keep our coastlines alive with honest work. Anything that gets in the way of that — especially under the guise of reform — is not support. It’s sabotage.
What’s most troubling is that the minutes from these meetings — where sweeping decisions like this are discussed — are only made public months after the fact. By the time fishers become aware of what was considered or potentially decided, the wheels may already be in motion. This delay in communication means reforms that directly affect our livelihoods can be halfway implemented before the broader industry even has a chance to respond. It undermines any genuine sense of consultation and leaves many of us wondering whether transparency is just another word for afterthought.
Interestingly, the very same meeting acknowledges the value of face-to-face interaction with regional fishers — highlighting trust, understanding, and better advice to Government as key benefits. We fully support that. But if CommFish truly believes in direct engagement, then the next step is simple: make those meetings public. Let fishers be in the room, not just on the mailing list. Let our voices be heard before the pen hits the paper — not months later when decisions are already made. Real consultation doesn’t happen in hindsight. It happens when those affected are given a seat at the table, in real time, with full transparency.
Many matters are discussed during a CommFish meeting — each with real consequences for those of us on the water. I encourage every fisher to take the time to read the meeting minutes in full, so you too can be fully aware of what’s being decided on your behalf, often without your voice in the room.
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