By now, you’ve probably seen the headlines: the Trump administration has pulled the plug – at least temporarily – on the Empire Wind project off New York’s coast. For some, it came as a gut punch to the offshore wind industry. For others, it was a long-overdue reality check. But no matter where you stand on the issue, there’s no denying that this move has rekindled a national debate that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years: should massive offshore wind developments really be fast-tracked in the name of clean energy without a full accounting of their environmental and economic consequences?
The Empire Wind project, a sprawling plan by Norwegian energy company Equinor, had already begun onshore work and was prepping to start marine operations this spring. Fifty-plus turbines were slated to rise nearly 1,000 feet into the sky just 15 miles off Long Island’s South Shore, generating enough energy, proponents say, to power a half-million homes. The problem? Questions remain about whether anyone fully understands the long-term impact this will have on marine ecosystems, fishing access, and navigational safety.
To the Biden-era regulators who greenlit this project, the answer was a confident “yes.” To the Trump administration now back in power, it’s a hard “not so fast.”
Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum cited concerns that the prior administration pushed the project through without sufficient environmental review or stakeholder engagement. From what we’re hearing from both commercial and recreational fishing sectors, that’s not an unfounded claim. Too many times, these projects are unveiled with thick binders of impact studies and glossy public relations campaigns, but little regard for the people who actually work and live on these waters.
Let’s be clear: this isn’t about being anti-renewable energy. Most anglers I know aren’t climate change deniers. We’re out on the water more than anyone – we see what’s happening to the seasons, the water temps, and the fish migration patterns. But supporting sustainability doesn’t mean giving a blank check to foreign-backed wind developers who want to stake turbines into some of the most productive fishing grounds on the Eastern Seaboard.
Long Island anglers know what’s at stake. Projects like Empire Wind aren’t just popping up on empty blue water. They’re targeting historically rich stretches of bottom that have supported generations of recreational and commercial fishermen. Add in construction noise, underwater cabling, restricted zones, and shifting currents, and you’ve got a real recipe for disruption.
For those who say we’ll adapt, I’d ask – have we really taken the time to understand what we’re adapting to? What happens when fluke, sea bass, and squid migrate differently because of underwater electromagnetic fields or altered bottom contours? What’s the plan when whales start washing up in unusual numbers, or when navigation becomes riskier in foggy conditions thanks to turbine clutter?
New York officials and environmental groups are already crying foul, calling Trump’s order a politically motivated attack on clean energy. They might be half right – it’s no secret this administration isn’t exactly waving the green flag for wind. But they’re missing a crucial point: skepticism isn’t sabotage. Sometimes a pause button is exactly what’s needed when momentum starts outpacing oversight.
What’s especially ironic is that this delay might be the best thing that ever happened to the offshore wind industry – if they’re wise enough to use it. This is a chance for wind developers to go back to the drawing board, to engage more meaningfully with fishing communities, and to ensure science is steering the ship.
As fishermen, we’ve learned that the ocean doesn’t care about agendas. It doesn’t bend to political cycles or PR spin. It responds to action – and reacts to disruption. If offshore wind is going to be a part of our energy future, it has to be done right. That means real collaboration, real transparency, and real investment in coexisting with the maritime economy that’s already there.
Until then, I’ll take the halt over a rush. Sometimes slowing down is the only way to avoid a wreck.
