Sea Turtles at Risk: Blue Precarities, the Indian Ocean and Chandani Lokuge’s Turtle Nest

The ocean is often imagined as a vast, wild frontier, but for the creatures that live there, it is a home that is increasingly under siege. In recent years, a field of study known as the "blue humanities" has emerged to look at the sea not just as a backdrop for human stories, but as a living, active participant in our world. This perspective asks us to consider how human actions, particularly those driven by the desire for profit and tourism, are reshaping the delicate balance of marine life. Central to this discussion is the concept of "blue precarity," a term used to describe the growing instability and danger facing ocean ecosystems. It is the idea that the ocean and its inhabitants are becoming increasingly vulnerable, not just from natural changes, but from the specific ways humans manage, exploit, and enclose the sea for economic gain. When we treat the ocean as a resource to be managed and sold, we often overlook the fact that the creatures living there are not just scenery, but essential parts of a system that is now teetering on the edge.

A new article by Abhisek Ghosal from Symbiosis International University brings these abstract ideas down to the sandy shores of Sri Lanka to examine a specific crisis: the rapid decline of sea turtle populations. The author argues that the rise of neoliberal tourism—a style of travel driven by global markets and the promise of exotic experiences—is directly responsible for pushing these ancient reptiles toward extinction. The paper does not rely on new field data or experiments; instead, it uses a critical lens to analyze how economic forces and literary storytelling intersect. By looking at the real-world conditions of Sri Lankan coasts alongside a fictional novel, the author demonstrates how the drive for profit creates a hostile environment for turtles, forcing them out of the very beaches where they need to lay their eggs.

The core of the argument rests on the idea that the ocean is being "governed" in a way that benefits humans at the expense of other species. In the past, the Indian Ocean was a space of connection and trade, but today, it is increasingly treated as a zone to be controlled, bordered, and monetized. This shift has created what the author calls "blue precarities," a state of constant threat where marine life is squeezed out of its habitat. The paper highlights that this is not just about pollution or climate change, but about the specific mechanics of tourism. When coastal areas are developed for resorts and tourists, the natural rhythms of the ocean are disrupted. Sea turtles, which must return to specific sandy beaches to reproduce, find their nesting grounds crowded, noisy, and polluted. The author suggests that the current model of tourism, which treats the ocean as a playground for the wealthy, is incompatible with the survival of these animals.

To illustrate this conflict, the article turns to a novel titled Turtle Nest by Chandani Lokuge. The story follows a young woman named Aruni who returns to her homeland in Sri Lanka and witnesses the harsh reality of life on the coast. In the book, impoverished locals, struggling to survive, act as guides for wealthy tourists, leading them to turtle nesting sites for a fee. The novel depicts a scene where tourists are eager to see the turtles, treating them as attractions to be viewed from glass-bottom boats or even held down for photos. The author of the paper uses this fictional narrative to show how the desire for a "paradise" experience blinds people to the suffering of the animals. In the story, a dead jellyfish is found on the beach, and a tourist dismisses its death as a small, unimportant matter. This moment serves as a powerful example of how the tourism industry encourages a lack of empathy, where the death of a creature is seen as a minor inconvenience rather than a sign of a collapsing ecosystem.

The paper argues that the blame for this situation cannot be placed solely on the poor locals who guide tourists. Instead, the author points to a larger system of "neoliberalism," where governments and global markets prioritize economic growth over environmental care. In Sri Lanka, political instability and poverty have left coastal communities with few options, forcing them to rely on the tourism industry for survival. Meanwhile, the government has allowed the development of hotels and resorts that encroach on nesting beaches, often without regard for the wildlife. The article suggests that this is a form of "slow violence," where the destruction of the habitat happens gradually, through the accumulation of small, destructive acts like beach crowding, plastic pollution, and the constant disturbance of nesting sites. The result is that sea turtles are unable to breed successfully, leading to a steady and alarming drop in their numbers.

One of the most striking findings in the paper is the connection between the physical state of the beach and the fate of the turtles. The author notes that when tourists flock to the coast, they bring with them a culture of consumption that leaves behind waste and alters the natural landscape. The paper describes how the sand, once a safe haven for eggs, is now trampled and polluted. The turtles, which are highly sensitive to changes in their environment, are forced to leave or fail to reproduce. The article emphasizes that this is not a natural cycle of life and death, but a man-made crisis. The "blue precarity" described here is a state where the ocean is no longer a place of abundance, but a place of scarcity and danger for its original inhabitants.

The author concludes that the only way to address this crisis is to change the way we think about the ocean. We need to move away from seeing the sea as a resource to be exploited and start viewing it as a living entity that deserves care and protection. This requires a shift in policy, where governments prioritize the needs of marine life over the profits of the tourism industry. It also requires a change in human behavior, where tourists and locals alike recognize their responsibility to the creatures that share their home. The paper suggests that by understanding the deep connections between human actions and the fate of the sea, we can begin to find solutions that allow both people and turtles to thrive. The story of the sea turtles in Sri Lanka is a warning: if we continue to treat the ocean as a commodity, we risk losing the very life that makes it beautiful.

Ultimately, the paper serves as a call to action, urging us to look beyond the surface of the tourist experience and see the struggles happening beneath the waves. It challenges the reader to consider the cost of our leisure and the price we are paying for the "exotic" beauty of the coast. By combining scientific concepts with the emotional power of literature, the author makes a compelling case for a new kind of relationship with the ocean—one based on respect, care, and a recognition of our shared vulnerability. The fate of the sea turtles is not just their own; it is a reflection of our own choices and a measure of our ability to live in harmony with the natural world.