1.1 Introduction
Maritime transport handles around 80 percent of international trade, a figure that rises even higher for many developing States. An integral part of shipping, ports enable nations to engage in global trade and contribute to their prosperity and welfare. In this context, ports are fundamental gateways to international shipping for ensuring uninterrupted supply chains (ICS n.d.; UNCTAD 2023; World Bank Group n.d.).
Ports are indeed crucial, given that they act as gateways for goods carried by ships to enter a State’s landmass, making them strategic points for control. Therefore, port performance and the facilitation of international trade are essential for the success of shipping. On the other hand, delays in maritime transport demonstrate the inefficiencies at ports. Enhancing digital infrastructure and adopting advanced technologies are critical for increasing the reliability of global supply chains, thus improving clearance efficiency and reducing delays. Digitalization plays a central role in enhancing port performance. By the integration of novel technologies, such as interactive data exchanges and artificial intelligence, ports can become more efficient. Indeed, technological progress can further enhance port operations (IMO n.d.b; UNCTAD 2023, ch. 4).
The current regulatory framework requires States to assume various jurisdictional roles, such as coastal, flag, and port States. While the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS)Footnote 1 delineates the jurisdiction, in essence the International Maritime Organization (IMO) elaborates on the practical application of these jurisdictions to international shipping. Within the framework provided by UNCLOS, the IMO enhances jurisdiction by equipping States with the necessary regulatory tools. The IMO rightly maintains that the effective regulation of shipping necessitates a combination of efforts from flag, coastal, and port States. It is also acknowledged that such regulation can only be effective when guided by uniform and universally enforced international standards. In this context, Chircop aptly observes that the IMO has supported the UNCLOS regime by developing norms that set the standards for the jurisdictional roles of the States (Balkin Reference Balkin, Joseph Attard, Balkin and Greig2018, 23–24; Chircop Reference Chircop, Joseph Attard, Balkin and Greig2018, 199–200).
Pursuant to IMO Conventions, governments bear the ultimate responsibility for ensuring compliance with international regulations. Typically, ships on the high seas have been under the exclusive jurisdiction of their flag State. However, this exclusivity is not absolute and is subject to several exceptions, such as coastal and port State jurisdictions. While flag State jurisdiction (FSJ) applies regardless of a ship’s location, other forms of jurisdiction are contingent on the vessel’s location. While much attention has been paid to their role as flag States, the ever-increasing obligations and responsibilities of port States are equally crucial (Barchue Reference Barchue, Joseph 34Attard, Balkin and Greig2018, 252; Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 117, 122).
Ports serve as pivotal locations in international logistical networks, where the safety of navigation is critical for the port/coastal States. Given the considerable risks present in the shipping activities around ports, it is incumbent upon port authorities to ensure navigational safety. This need for safety is indeed a legitimate concern, considering the growing number of vessels that navigate into, dock, visit, undock, exit, and maneuver within port areas (Agripino de Castro and Pasold Reference Agripino de Castro, Pasold, Attard, Fitzmaurice, Martinez, Arroyo and Belja2016, 423). Port call operations, at both arrival and departure, involve numerous stakeholders, such as the port authority, pilots, tug operators, mooring personnel, terminal operators, stevedores, and other service providers (IMO 2023a).
The increase in substandard vessels over time and the severe consequence of several tragic maritime disasters have compelled coastal States, in their capacity as port States, to recognize the dire need to address the shortcomings in the enforcement capabilities of flag States (Yu et al. Reference Yu, Zhao and Chang2018, 87–88). In this regard, ports serve as critical checkpoints for inspecting and verifying whether visiting foreign ships comply with specific national or international technical standards and to ensure that they adhere to both national and international maritime regulations. When a merchant ship voluntarily enters a foreign port, she submits to the port State jurisdiction (PSJ). Therefore, a foreign-flagged ship must comply with the port State’s regulations concerning navigation safety, customs, immigration, sanitation, national security, and environmental protection (Molenaar Reference Molenaar, Freestone, Barnes and Ong2006, Reference Molenaar2021; Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 125–126).
Usually, IMO standards have demonstrated considerable flexibility in adapting to technological advancements. Moreover, the development of new technologies has always been encouraged for safer shipping. On the other hand, such innovations have also led to the creation of new legal norms and prompted the development of the IMO’s compliance mechanisms (Luchenko et al. Reference Luchenko, Georgiievskyi and Bielikova2023, 23). Currently, shipping is in the stage of revolutionary transformation, perhaps similar to the transition from sailing to steam power. Petrig aptly highlights that Maritime Autonomous Surface Ships (MASS) are no longer a futuristic scenario given that technology is progressing swiftly. Indeed, the right question is no longer if MASS will happen but rather how quickly and in what form it will unfold. Hence, the advent of MASS necessitates revisiting well-established jurisdictional roles of the States (IMO 2024d; Petrig Reference Petrig, Ringbom, Røsæg and Solvang2021, 23). The current technological developments create considerable tension with the existing legal frameworks as regards the jurisdictional roles of States. Obviously, the architects of these jurisdictional frameworks did not anticipate the emergence of MASS during their drafting exercise.
1.2 Port States and MASS
The term “ports” refers to safe locations where vessels are loaded and unloaded. Notably, ports are integral to the territory of a State, which exercises full sovereignty over them. It is not one of the main characteristics of UNCLOS to offer definitions for its numerous terms. Unsurprisingly, this is also the case for “port” and “port State” although these terms are mentioned several times throughout the Convention (Articles 11, 18(1), and 129). Nevertheless, the concept of a port State becomes evident when foreign vessels visit other ports. The port State can exercise jurisdiction in the same way it would in any other part of its territory. Therefore, port States play a crucial role in ensuring compliance with international shipping standards. Yet, it is also incumbent on port States not to unnecessarily delay or hamper international shipping (Kopela Reference Kopela2016, 93–94; Marten Reference Marten2014, 20–21; Molenaar Reference Molenaar2021, paras. 3, 5).
Evidently, enforcement measures are more practicable in ports. Inspections at ports, rather than in open seas, are more convenient as they require fewer resources, and ships encounter fewer navigational obstacles (Coelho Reference Coelho2015, 273). Port State enforcement measures can include a variety of actions, such as denial of access to ports, prohibition on the loading and unloading of cargo, denial of the use of port services, inspection of vessels, detention, and fines (Molenaar Reference Molenaar, Freestone, Barnes and Ong2006, 197). Against this backdrop, it may be safe to note that the successful integration of MASS operations into international shipping essentially depends on their ability to use the web of foreign ports like their conventional counterparts. Otherwise, their technological capabilities and legal capacity to navigate would not be meaningful for the industry’s commercial usage.
1.2.1 Historical Background
As early as 1919, the Treaty of Versailles hinted at a general desireFootnote 2 for an international instrument regulating the regime of ports. In this respect, the 1923 Convention and Statute on the International Régime of Maritime PortsFootnote 3 is a landmark development in the global regulation of ports. It primarily addresses the issue of equality of treatment concerning freedom of access to ports, the use of ports, and availing of benefits regarding the navigation and commercial operation and use of port facilities (see Article 2). In this respect, Article 2 of the Convention’s Statute requires the contracting parties to ensure equal treatment of vessels from other State parties regarding the freedom of entry to ports. Although PSJ is not explicitly mentioned, it also refers to the general competence of port authorities (Articles 3 and 4).
Before the 1970s, in the absence of a directly applicable clear treaty rule, port States exercised restricted jurisdiction over foreign vessels under customary law, which was mainly in the form of denying entry to their ports or imposing specific conditions on foreign vessels. It is submitted that the concept of PSJ emerged in the 1970s. In particular, the 1973 Inter-Governmental Maritime Consultative Organisation (IMCO) Conference on Marine Pollution and the 1974 Conference of the International Law Association (British Branch Committee on the Law of the Sea) appear to be early examples. At the IMCO Conference, the US proposed a draft that would allow port States to ensure compliance with global regulations. However, the proposal was not accepted (Marten Reference Marten2014, 33–35; Qi and Zhang Reference Qi and Zhang2021, 19–21). Over time, it became evident that the international shipping regulations set out in the IMO’s major instrumentsFootnote 4 could only be enforced by expanding the powers of port States (Özçayir Reference Özçayir2004, 74–77).
Significant developments in the evolution of PSJ occurred in the 1980s, particularly with the adoption of UNCLOS and the Paris Memorandum.Footnote 5 Notably, port States have assumed a critical role in ensuring compliance through various regional port State control agreements. UNCLOS (see Article 218) implicitly recognizes PSJ without providing an explicit definition, and it acknowledges the port State’s authority to set conditions for foreign ships to have access to ports. Additionally, UNCLOS enables port States to physically inspect if a ship’s actual conditions do not match its documentation. The evolution of PSJ was further enhanced in 1984 with the entry into force of the International Convention on Standards of Training, Certification, and Watchkeeping for Seafarers (STCW),Footnote 6 which grants port States the authority to detain ships until any deficiencies posing risks to people, property, or the environment are addressed. The evolution of PSJ has continued at both the regional and global levels; for instance, the IMO adopted the first version of Resolution A.472(18) in 1993, which set procedures for port State control (Marten Reference Marten2014, 2–3, Reference Marten2016, 471; Özçayir Reference Özçayir2004, 74–77; Qi and Zhang Reference Qi and Zhang2021, 25–26). Over time, the myriad of IMO legal instruments enhanced the PSJ regime. Finally, the “no more favourable treatment” clause, which is usually incorporated into IMO Conventions, further consolidated PSJ vis-à-vis FSJ.
1.2.2 Legal Basis of PSJ
Port States possess regulatory and enforcement authority over foreign ships in their ports. As a fundamental principle, a port State, therefore, can necessitate compliance with its national regulations for foreign vessels, provided these do not pertain to aspects entirely internal to the ship. In this context, PSJ refers to the authority of a State over ships that voluntarily visit its ports (Ringbom Reference Ringbom2011, 620–623). As a public law concept, PSJ is a direct extension of the principle of State sovereignty and is primarily a form of territorial jurisdiction, though it encompasses additional aspects.Footnote 7 Over time, PSJ has transformed from a voluntary application in specific areas to a more comprehensive and obligatory implementation largely through IMO instruments and their broadening reach to new areas (IMO 2023c, 9–10; Kopela Reference Kopela2016, 93–94; Marten Reference Marten2014, 1, 7, 20–21; Molenaar Reference Molenaar, Freestone, Barnes and Ong2006, 208–209; Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 117).
PSJ is broadly viewed as allowing port States to exercise significant regulatory authority over foreign-flagged ships. In a nutshell, PSJ provides a mechanism for corrective action if flag States fail to meet their obligations. Although its significance has faded due to the expanding PSJ, FSJ remains a foundational mechanism for maintaining legal order at sea, especially on the high seas. However, over time, in response to the inadequacies of flag States in ensuring compliance of their ships, port States had to step in, and indeed, they have increasingly taken on a supplementary, if not leading, role (Derrig Reference Derrig2022, 534–536; Qi and Zhang Reference Qi and Zhang2021, 8–9).
While UNCLOS predominantly upholds FSJ over vessels, it also recognizes the growing significance of port States in ensuring adherence to international rules and standards. Indeed, the notion of the port State as a separate jurisdictional entity gained importance with the adoption of UNCLOS. However, UNCLOS, as an umbrella instrument, does not codify the scope of PSJ comprehensively. Nonetheless, it provides a legal basis, particularly in Article 218, “Enforcement by port States” (see also Articles 211(3) and 219), which also points to the IMO as the competent international organization (CIO). Acting as the secretariat for UNCLOS, the UN Division for Ocean Affairs and the Law of the Sea compiled a table elucidating the implications for the “competent or relevant international organizations” in relation to UNCLOS for ocean governance. That document, which was published in the Law of the Sea Bulletin No. 31, also confirms that the IMO is the CIO in the context of Article 218 (IMO 2014, 7–8; Marten Reference Marten2014, 2–3; OECD 2001, 28; Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 125–126; United Nations 1996).
The authority of a port State on foreign-flagged ships docked at its ports is crucial to the routine operations of international shipping. Although States have historically exercised territorial sovereignty over their ports, the concept of the port State as a distinct jurisdictional entity was formally established by UNCLOS. In establishing the legal framework for the rights and obligations of port States, UNCLOS heavily relies on the international rules developed at the CIO. By incorporating the IMO’s regulations through rules of the reference system, UNCLOS indeed grants a significant role to the standards adopted under the auspices of the organization (Marten Reference Marten and Ringbom2015, 5–6, 109–112; Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 139–140).
Given that UNCLOS is relatively silent on PSJ, any limitations regarding the subject matter or scope of regulations in this context must be sought outside of the Convention. This is supported by the preamble of UNCLOS, which emphasizes that matters not explicitly regulated by the Convention continue to be governed by the general international law (Marten Reference Marten and Ringbom2015, 109–112).
UNCLOS serves as the primary international legal framework, establishing the rights and obligations of States. States assume their roles as coastal, flag, and port States based on various factors, such as their geographical location, sovereignty, boundaries, and functions, as well as the treaties to which they are parties. Typically, a coastal State’s authority diminishes as the distance from the shore increases (Beckman Reference Beckman2007, 326; Mansell Reference Mansell2009; Wolfrum Reference Wolfrum2014). Article 8 of UNCLOS establishes that waters on the landward side of the baselines are part of internal waters. This recognition affirms the sovereignty of port States over the waters in their ports. Furthermore, Article 25 reaffirms the right to regulate access to internal waters, including ports. Moreover, UNCLOS strengthens the powers of port States in protecting the marine environment, allowing them to regulate the access of vessels into their ports, inspect vessels for compliance with port entry requirements, and deny access to noncompliant vessels (Galani Reference Galani2021, 609). In general, Articles 211, 218, and 219 address PSJ. Article 211(3) primarily sets the foundation for the State’s jurisdiction to adopt domestic rules. On the other hand, Articles 218 and 219 specifically outline the port State’s enforcement authority. In essence, while Article 211 focuses on the authority to legislate, Article 218 addresses the authority to enforce such legislation (Keselj Reference Keselj1999, 131–135; Özçayir Reference Özçayir2004, 80–81).
As a framework convention, the UNCLOS emphasized general principles of the law of the sea, leaving broader discretion to States rather than restricting interpretation or hindering technological development. It was undoubtedly drafted for crewed ships. However, this does not mean that the drafters intended to exclude new types of vessels (Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 138; Veal et al. Reference Veal, Tsimplis and Serdy2019). Indeed, the UNCLOS regime is designed to evolve and address emerging issues that could not possibly have been foreseen during the adoption of UNCLOS. Therefore, it is suggested that the norms and principles regulating conventional manned vessels may apply to MASS with the necessary adjustments. In this context, Kraska aptly opines that the current legal framework for the law of the sea already offers a fundamental structure for regulating MASS (Kraska Reference Kraska2010, 44–45).
1.3 The IMO’s Regulatory Mandate and Port States
In the pre-UNCLOS period, ensuring compliance with the technical, manning, and operational standards stipulated by the International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS),Footnote 8 the International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships (MARPOL),Footnote 9 and the STCW proved to be challenging for flag States. Moreover, while port authorities were permitted to inspect certificates, they lacked the legal authority to board vessels to verify whether a ship’s certificates accurately reflected compliance with international standards (Blanco-Bazan Reference Blanco-Bazan, Joseph Attard, Balkin and Greig2018, 42–44).
The IMO’s mandate is rooted in multiple sources, notably beginning with the 1948 Convention on the International Maritime OrganizationFootnote 10 and various legal instruments adopted by the IMO after its inception. Although the IMO predates UNCLOS, the adoption of the Convention significantly enhanced its mandate as the CIO. UNCLOS introduces a system of “rules of reference” as a mechanism for its adaptation, requiring States to comply with the IMO’s Generally Accepted International Regulations, Procedures, and Practices (GAIRS; Librando Reference Librando, Attard, Fitzmaurice and Gutiérrez2014, 579, 589–590; Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 61–62). The active involvement of 176 IMO member States, along with that of numerous relevant stakeholders, and the broad adherence level to IMO Conventions support the argument that these rules and standards are indeed GAIRS (IMO 2023c, 7–8).
UNCLOS functions as an umbrella treaty, meaning that it can be enforced through specific regulations developed by the CIO (Librando Reference Librando, Attard, Fitzmaurice and Gutiérrez2014, 580–582). The IMO, which serves as the global standard-setting authority for international shipping, aims to adopt global regulations that are uniformly applied. Its mission is to promote safe, secure, environmentally sound, efficient, and sustainable shipping through international cooperation. This goal could only be achieved by adopting the highest practical standards for maritime safety and security, navigational efficiency, and pollution control from ships (IMO 2023c, 4).
In this respect, IMO treaty instruments outline the way in which jurisdiction should be exercised to ensure adherence to its regulations. Similarly to UNCLOS, while the primary responsibility for enforcing these regulations falls to the flag State in the IMO context, a significant development in the IMO’s efforts over the past decades has been the progressive strengthening of PSJ. This enhancement essentially aims to address noncompliance with IMO regulations by foreign ships that voluntarily visit ports. Such voluntary access to ports indeed indicates the foreign ship’s consent to PSJ (Hughes Reference Hughes, Joseph Attard, Balkin, Greig and Attard2018, 210–211).
Given that the IMO lacks enforcement powers, a core principle of its regulatory role is that State parties – whether as flag, coastal, or port States – are eventually responsible for ensuring compliance with international standards. (Balkin Reference Balkin, Joseph Attard, Balkin and Greig2018, 22–23; IMO 2014, 12–13).
Initially, the IMO focused solely on maritime safety issues, but over time its responsibilities expanded as the environmental impact of shipping became apparent in the face of a dramatic increase in global oil transportation after the 1960s. As the IMO increasingly focused on the human element, the extent of regulatory controls broadened to encompass the entire operation of a ship. The International Safety Management Code (ISM Code) best illustrates this expansion for the safe operation of ships and for pollution prevention. Subsequently, UNCLOS and major IMO Conventions marked a shift toward enhancing the enforcement responsibilities of port States (Gavouneli Reference Gavouneli2007, 46–49; Marten Reference Marten2014, 44–46). The IMO Assembly adopted its first resolution regarding the procedures for controlling ships at the end of 1981 (IMO 1981). Over time, that resolution has undergone numerous amendments to accommodate the developments in the industry (Özçayir Reference Özçayir2009, 210–211).
Last but not least, the key IMO Conventions include provisions that govern PSJFootnote 11 and detail the scope of its application. Pursuant to these instruments, for instance, port States are authorized to verify the authenticity of certificates issued by flag States. Furthermore, they grant port States the right to inspect ships if the certificates are found to be in disorder, if there is substantial evidence suggesting that a ship or its equipment does not match the details in the certificates, or if the certificates are not accurately maintained (IMO 2014, 19; Librando Reference Librando, Attard, Fitzmaurice and Gutiérrez2014, 592–594).
1.4 Integration of Remotely Controlled Ships to International Shipping
The IMO defined the term “MASS” as ships capable of operating with varying degrees of human involvement and acknowledged that MASS could encompass a range of automation levels even in a single journey. To prevent confusion by employing different terms during its regulatory scoping exercise (RSE), the IMO has identified four degrees of autonomy. The said classification, particularly for degree four, although it was considered useful during the RSE, was not immune from criticism. Fortunately, a recent and more appropriate understanding has been developed at the IMO, which ensures that a remote master is required for degree four as well (Sumer Reference Sumer, Leucci and Vianellovol2023a). This study aims to address remotely controlled ships (RCS), which are classified as MASS degrees two and three.
Scholars generally concur that an RCS can be characterized as a ship under UNCLOS. In this regard, early research and deliberations at the IMO seem to suggest that the classification of an RCS as a ship should be at the discretion of the flag State. Indeed, Article 91 offers a wide discretion for flag States to fix conditions for granting nationality to ships. It follows that if a flag State designates an RCS as a ship, then the relevant provisions of UNCLOS would apply to it. Consequently, RCS should be able to use navigational rights and receive treatment similarly to their traditional crewed peers in the coastal waters and port areas (Dong et al. Reference Dong, Bautista and Zhu2024, 2).
Having said that, until the IMO authoritatively clarifies the relationship between MASS and port States, there could be significant challenges for RCS operations. This uncertainty may deter port States from allowing such vessels to grant access to their ports. If a flag State registers an RCS but a port State does not recognize its status as a ship, then conflicts may arise, as the port State might view the RCS as noncompliant with the State’s requirements. According to this scenario, conflicting State practices can emerge, which will cause defragmentation of international maritime law. Moreover, this can disrupt international shipping as well. Although such discrepancies may eventually be resolved through the IMO’s GAIRS, these issues could prove particularly challenging during the initial period before global regulations are established. To prevent any gaps in the legal status of RCS, it is indeed imperative for the IMO to act swiftly. Given the express delegation of authority by the UNCLOS regime to the IMO, the CIO must fulfill its role in resolving uncertainties as regards port States and defining the specific requirements necessary to integrate RCS effectively (Gabay et al. Reference Gabay, Furman and Greenbaum2023, 411; Sumer Reference Sumer2023b, 139–140).
1.4.1 Construction, Design, Equipment, and Manning Standards
The primary regulatory approach to enhance the safety of shipping and to control pollution from ships involves setting standards pertinent to the construction, design, equipment, and manning of ships (CDEM standards), as in the example of SOLAS and MARPOL (Churchill Reference Churchill2016, 443). This particularly merits closer scrutiny, given the varying qualifications of MASS compared to traditional ships.
In accordance with relevant IMO Conventions, States may adopt measures that require vessels to adhere to CDEM standards as both entry criteria and rules to be followed while in ports. The application of prescriptive jurisdiction regarding CDEM standards that extend beyond international legal requirements causes issues due to their extraterritorial effect. Naturally, vessels must meet these standards as a continuous activity throughout their journey, even before approaching port. Thus, CDEM requirements need to be met on the high seas before and after the port visit, suggesting an exercise of extraterritorial jurisdiction. Nevertheless, it is submitted that the extraterritorial impact of these measures is merely incidental, not the primary objective of the port State’s domestic laws. Such static features are attributes that remain consistent regardless of a ship’s location, meaning that a ship either complies or does not comply with them wherever it is, whether in port or not. Since these features cannot easily be modified during a voyage, they are often seen as the most intrusive in relation to a ship’s navigational rights. Nonetheless, ships have the option of visiting a port. But, if they choose to do so, then, naturally, they must adhere to the CDEM standards set by the port State (Churchill Reference Churchill2016, 454–556; Kopela Reference Kopela2016, 95–96; Marten Reference Marten2016, 472–473; Ringbom Reference Ringbom2011, 620–623).
Port States have the authority to set CDEM standards for foreign ships intending to have access to their ports. It follows that port States can enforce these CDEM standards within their ports. Given that PSJ is fundamentally territorial, it stands to reason that a port State can, in principle, require foreign MASS that call at its ports to adhere to CDEM standards. The IMO Conventions often mandate port States to adopt and enforce such standards. A port State may also opt to avoid stringent CDEM measures if it values the economic benefits derived from foreign ships, including MASS, such as port fees and charges for services, and wishes to maintain its attractiveness as a port of call (Churchill Reference Churchill2016, 446–448, 467–469).
Given that ports are considered part of a State’s territory, port States have the authority to set CDEM standards for vessels calling at their ports. They may set more stringent CDEM standards than IMO standards unless there exist specific IMO Conventions or unless international laws stop them. Essentially, PSJ is subject to three key limitations with regard to CDEM standards. First, port States must respect the immunity of foreign warships and government-owned ships engaged in noncommercial activities. Second, various treaties mandate that States should not discriminate between ships based on nationality. And, finally, pursuant to Article 211(3) of UNCLOS, port States are obliged to provide due publicity to CDEM measures (Churchill Reference Churchill2016, 467–469).
Vessels can choose to ignore a port State’s regulations by not entering its ports. However, by deciding to visit a port, vessels implicitly agree to comply with the entry conditions, even if these conditions concern activities that occurred outside the port State’s territorial jurisdiction. In light of the foregoing, skeptical port States can indeed prescribe CDEM standards to deny access to MASS, unless the IMO’s GAIRS (see UNCLOS, Article 21(2)) restrict this power. Indeed, a key limitation is that a port State cannot establish CDEM standards that conflict with IMO Conventions that it has ratified, as doing so would breach its treaty obligations (Churchill Reference Churchill2016, 450–452; Ringbom Reference Ringbom2011, 626–628).
1.4.2 The Location of the Remote Operation Centers
According to the draft MASS Code, remote control involves operating the MASS or certain of its functions from a remote operation center (ROC). Under the Code, “ROC” means a distant location from the MASS that can control some or all aspects of the MASS functions. In this vein, the draft code defines a “Remote Operator” as a qualified person who is employed or engaged in operating some or all aspects of the MASS functions from a ROC. And, notably, “Remote Master” is a master in a ROC (IMO 2024b, annex I, 11).
The said new actors and terms cause some legal ambiguities. In particular, the location of a ROC can lead to intricate legal challenges concerning jurisdiction and the responsibilities of the flag State. For instance, customarily on the high seas, ships have been subject to the exclusive FSJ based on the view that vessels are essentially extensions of a flag State’s territory. But this reasoning would be difficult to follow for ROCs, which are hosted in another State, due to the overlap between the territorial jurisdiction of the State hosting the ROC and the jurisdiction of the flag State. There can be several related issues if the ROC is situated in a country other than the flag State with regard to ensuring the effective FSJ requirement under Article 94 of UNCLOS. Evidently, the legal tension will be less if a ROC is in the territory of the flag State. Although, at first sight, it seems plausible to ensure that ROCs are located only in the flag States, there is no such obligation in the law of the sea regime (Ishii Reference Ishii2023, 268–269). Therefore, the legal status of ROCs is likely to become a contentious issue until the IMO clarifies the issue by developing a common understanding between flag and port States (Yoo and Shan Reference Yoo and Shan2019, 563).
Once registered, the flag State is bound under Article 94 to exercise effective jurisdiction and control to ensure that the registered vessel complies with the IMO’s GAIRS. However, a critical issue arises with MASS: how the flag State can effectively oversee the remote operators to fulfil these obligations. Unlike manned ships, where the flag State can exert jurisdiction over both the vessel and the individuals on board, ROCs present unique legal complexities due to the absence of onboard crew and their presence elsewhere. Hence, the location of the ROC introduces intricate jurisdictional challenges. Notably, there may be overlapping jurisdictions between the State where the ROC is situated and the flag State. This issue can be further exacerbated depending on the legal characterization of the State in which the RCS is operated. For instance, the host State can be either a port or a coastal State, or both. Furthermore, the host State can be a landlocked State as well. Should this be the case, perhaps analogously to the presence of the dry ports, landlocked host States can arguably be considered as port States. There can be some legal creativity to address the issue in this manner, but, on the other hand, it is clearly not within the IMO’s mandate to come up with a new jurisdictional role, such as host State and/or ROC State jurisdiction, given that there is no such concept under UNCLOS. Evidently, when the ROC is within the flag State’s territory, it can exercise both prescriptive and enforcement jurisdiction. In contrast, if it is in the territory of a different State, then the flag State’s jurisdiction and reach are significantly limited, preventing it from enforcing its laws against the individual in the foreign jurisdiction without that State’s consent (Dong et al. Reference Dong, Bautista and Zhu2024, 2).
As a corollary to this, there seem to be increasing concerns about enforcing regulations against ROCs abroad. Considering the legal complexities of a ROC situated in a different State from the flag State, some delegations at the IMO suggested that discussions should focus on scenarios where the ROC is within the flag State’s territorial jurisdiction. However, other delegations argued that restricting the discussions in this way would impose an impractical limitation. The MASS Joint Working Group (JWG) subsequently agreed that the jurisdictional issue, including the conditions concerning a ROC located outside the flag State, should be reviewed by the IMO’s Legal Committee (LEG; IMO 2024h).
Indeed, in the absence of bilateral arrangements or the IMO’s GAIRS, flag States may face considerable limitations in meeting their international obligations when the ROCs are in different countries. For instance, the flag State may struggle to acquire necessary data for investigations due to a lack of cooperation or restrictions imposed by the State where the ROC is located (Ishii Reference Ishii2023, 281–284). Despite the abovementioned challenges, this is probably not a deal-breaker or a game-changing development hindering the integration of MASS. Indeed, the current legal architecture, including the trends toward stronger PSJ to ensure compliance, permits flexibility to address FSJ issues, as will be explained later.
1.4.3 Ship as a Unit Concept
It is a truism that the definition of “ship” varies depending on the subject matter and context of the convention in which it is mentioned. The terms “ship” and “vessel” are defined differently in various conventions adopted by the IMO, according to their scope of application and their objectives. At times, drafters of the legal instruments even attempted to avoid definitions so as not to confine the treaty texts to limited maneuverability spaces, as in the example of UNCLOS. Indeed, considering that UNCLOS aims to regulate all issues relating to the law of the sea, a single definition of “ship” would be neither feasible nor beneficial. On the definition issue in relation to the MASS concept, Kraska rightly observes a common aspect: that human control versus autonomous/remote control does not determine what constitutes a ship. Indeed, pursuant to Article 91 of UNCLOS, States have the discretion to fix the conditions for the granting of their nationality to vessels. In this regard, Kraska also maintains that registration of MASS is subject to national law (Kraska and Pedrozo Reference Kraska and Paul Pedrozo2023, 41–44; Petrig Reference Petrig, Johansson, Fernández, Dalaklis, Pastra and Skinner2023, 83–84).
The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) has firmly refined the definition of a ship in a few cases, including the M/V “Saiga” (No. 2) case,Footnote 12 the M/V “Virginia G” case,Footnote 13 and the M/V “Norstar” case (Preliminary Objections).Footnote 14 In each of these cases, the respondent raised multiple objections regarding the admissibility of the flag State’s claims, particularly focusing on the nationality of the claims. In all instances, ITLOS dismissed the objections and proceeded to evaluate the merits of the case. Through these rulings, ITLOS emphasized the distinct identity of a ship as a single unit, highlighting the flag State’s right to pursue compensation on behalf of crew members who are not its nationals and underscoring the broader implications for maritime law. For instance, in countering the argument that a flag State cannot seek redress for crew members who are not its nationals, the Tribunal in M/V “Saiga” (No. 2), upon reviewing UNCLOS, clarified that (Heidar Reference Heidar2024):
106. … [T]he Convention considers a ship as a unit, as regards the obligations of the flag State with respect to the ship and the right of a flag State to seek reparation for loss or damage caused to the ship by acts of other States and to institute proceedings under article 292 of the Convention. Thus the ship, every thing on it, and every person involved or interested in its operations are treated as an entity linked to the flag State. The nationalities of these persons are not relevant.
107. The Tribunal must also call attention to an aspect of the matter which is not without significance in this case. This relates to two basic characteristics of modern maritime transport: the transient and multinational composition of ships’ crews and the multiplicity of interests that may be involved in the cargo on board a single ship. A container vessel carries a large number of containers, and the persons with interests in them may be of many different nationalities. This may also be true in relation to cargo on board a breakbulk carrier. Any of these ships could have a crew comprising persons of several nationalities. If each person sustaining damage were obliged to look for protection from the State of which such person is a national, undue hardship would ensue.
ITLOS reaffirmed its jurisprudence in the M/V “Virginia G” case:
127. The Tribunal finds that the M/V Virginia G is to be considered as a unit and therefore the M/V Virginia G, its crew and cargo on board as well as its owner and every person involved or interested in its operations are to be treated as an entity linked to the flag State.
ITLOS reached these decisions by considering the practical elements that reflect modern maritime practices, such as the multinational and temporary composition of ship crews and the diverse interests associated with the cargo carried by a single vessel (Heidar Reference Heidar2024). Although it may be too early to consider that the ship as a unit concept can be extended to ROCs, nonetheless, it may be a useful tool to mitigate the legal tension with Article 94. Indeed, given the fact that ROCs are expected to be inherently crucial in the steering of RCS, this necessarily follows the line of thought that ROCs can perhaps be considered under the “unity principle,” even if they are located in other States (Ishii Reference Ishii2023, 268–269). However, this does not necessarily mean that there would be effective compliance mechanisms for ROCs in practice. In this context, in addition to treating ROCs as inherent parts of single units, equivalent to ship bridges, they could arguably be subject to more robust PSJ and constant port State control inspections, which would alleviate the inadequacy of flag States.
1.4.4 Latest Developments at the IMO
The IMO’s Maritime Safety Committee (MSC), the LEG, and the Facilitation Committee (FAL) conducted an RSE for the IMO Conventions under their remit to analyze the compliance issues. The RSE of the MSC and the LEG was concluded in 2021 and that of the FAL in 2022. The RSE is regarded as an important milestone in paving the way for further regulatory action with a view to adopt a goal-based MASS Code (IMO 2021).
In 2023, the MASS JWG aptly agreed that a human master should always be in charge of a MASS and should be able to reassume control when needed, irrespective of its degree of autonomy. Moreover, depending on the technology used on the MASS, the human master may not need to be on the vessel, which suggests that the human master can be a remote master located in the ROC (IMO 2024h). This is, indeed, noteworthy, as it practically corrects the shortcomings of degree four.
Currently, the development of the nonmandatory goal-based MASS Code has been limited to MASS cargo vessels (IMO 2024h, 8). The draft preamble of the MASS Code notes that specific operational functions may be controlled from a remote location and addresses necessary aspects of ROCs (4). To prevent discrepancies and ease the legal tension of the new MASS Code with UNCLOS and international law, particularly given the novel nature of the subject matter, the following text is suggested for inclusion in the MASS Code:
The Code and the use of MASS are required to conform to the relevant rules of international law, including the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), and generally accepted international regulations, procedures and practices developed by the International Maritime Organization (IMO) as the competent international organization for global shipping.
Notably, the current draft Code obliges flag States for the certification and verification of ROCs. It stipulates that every vessel to which the Code applies should have a valid MASS Certificate (para. 6.1). Similarly, every ROC needs to be issued a MASS ROC Certificate (para. 6.2). Moreover, the draft Code states that every administration notified by a company of its intent to operate a MASS should, as it finds practical and necessary, either independently or in collaboration with other contracting governments provide its requirements, procedures, and guidelines for incorporation of the ROC in the verification and certification process of the Document of Compliance (DoC) and Safety Management Certificate (SMC). The process for issuing the DoC is expected to include at least one assessment of the ROC during the DoC’s validity period. This assessment should be conducted by the flag State administration, a recognized organization (RO), or another contracting government at the administration’s request. The DoC should only be valid for MASS if explicitly stated in the DoC. According to the draft Code, the SMC should be issued in line with SOLAS (Chapter IX, Regulation 4.3) and the ISM Code (Part B, paras. 13–15). The SMC should specify the type of ship, indicate that it is operated as a MASS, and identify the ROC, if applicable, involved in the operation of the MASS (IMO 2024h, annex 1, 19–22).
The draft Code also has provisions on Minimum Safe Manning Document (MSMD), for MASS and ROC, in accordance with IMO Resolution A.1047(27) (IMO 2011), as amended, and to the satisfaction of the administration. In this respect, the MSMD for the MASS may show a total manning number of zero linked to specific MASS and reference personnel training and certification requirements as specified in the Code (IMO 2024h, annex 1, 19–22).
It is noteworthy that several IMO member States (Belgium, Liberia, and the Republic of Korea) recently proposed that the MSC consider the following principles for the drafting of the MASS Code: the flag State of the MASS should determine and be responsible for the verification, survey, and certification of the MASS and its ROC; an oversight system, similar to the ISM Code, should be applied to the management certification of ROCs and MASS; the responsible ISM company for the MASS should retain its responsibilities and be certified in accordance with the ISM Code; and the management of remote operations should align with the duties and responsibilities of ISM companies. Cosponsors also proposed a system called “Remote Operations Management” (ROM), with ROM being the management structure for ROCs established by the MASS Code. In this regard, it is proposed that a ROC should be operated by a ROM company holding a ROM DoC. Moreover, MASS should be operated by a ROC holding a ROC Management Certificate. One ROM company could operate one or more ROCs under one ROM DoC, which should be issued by the administration, by an RO, or at the request of the administration by another contracting government in line with the principles of the ISM Code (IMO 2024a).
Furthermore, Belgium and the Republic of Korea, in their joint document submitted to the LEG, endorsed the previous proposal by noting that the ROM system aims to ensure the completion of tasks and responsibilities specific to ROCs. Within this framework, the flag State would verify that a ROM company complies with its safety and security regulations. Like the ISM model, a ROM company could be granted a DoC, and a ROC could be awarded a ROC Management Certificate. The system is flexible enough to allow ISM companies to operate their own ROCs, thereby functioning as ROM companies. Although not directly tackling jurisdictional and ensuing compliance challenges, the ROM concept appears to provide a practical path forward for mitigating FSJ issues (IMO 2024c).
Remarkably, the current version of the MASS Code, which is drafted by the MSC, appears to presume that the duties of flag States would be applicable to MASS. The initial version of the MASS Code draws upon the framework established in SOLAS and the ISM Code for the survey and certification of ROCs. In this regard, it specifically mandates that flag States carry out the survey of ROCs. When a MASS is remotely controlled from an onshore ROC, given that remote operators will replace the traditional master or crew on board, the flag State must oversee these ROCs to ensure proper performance, particularly if they are within the flag State’s territory. For instance, pursuant to the ISM Code, to ensure an international standard for the safe management and operation of ships and for pollution prevention, flag States must conduct surveys and verify companies irrespective of their location. According to paragraph 13 of the ISM Code, vessels should be operated by a company that has been issued with a DoC as evidence that the company is capable of complying with the requirements of the ISM Code (paras. 13, 14). That DoC is issued either by the administration or by an RO, or, at the request of the administration, by another contracting government to the Convention to any company complying with the requirements of the Code. However, the flag State may certainly encounter challenges in overseeing ROCs located in other countries (IMO 2024d).
Japan submitted a paper to the MASS JWG with a view to stimulating further discussion on the scenario where a flag State conducts an inspection to certify and verify a ROC located in other jurisdictions. Such an action, if it is conducted with the consent of the State where the ROC is located and adheres to the provisions outlined in the new MASS Code concerning ROCs, is posited not to encroach upon the sovereignty of the State. Indeed, according to SOLAS, it is broadly recognized that a flag State’s inspection to certify and verify a ship management company under the ISM Code and SOLAS does not violate the sovereignty of the State that hosts the ship management company as a SOLAS State party. In light of the above, Japan observed that a flag State’s certification and verification of a ROC under the MASS Code would not infringe upon the sovereignty of the State where the ROC is operating (IMO 2024d).
During the previous LEG meeting, IMO member States engaged in an extensive discussion on whether the potential arrangements for ROCs, especially those located in a territory different from the flag State of the MASS, fulfill the obligation laid down in Article 94 of UNCLOS. There have also been diverging positions among the IMO delegates during the discussions. For instance, the Argentinian delegation, which seems to have had a more cautious approach to MASS, expressed significant concerns regarding whether the freedom of navigation under the law of the sea regime extends to vessels with higher levels of autonomy. Remarkably, Argentina emphasized its right to regulate the entry of MASS into its jurisdictional waters. In this context, notably, Argentina also referred to Article 25 of UNCLOS, which grants the authority to States to impose restrictions on the entry of foreign ships into their ports or territorial sea (IMO 2024f).
During the subsequent discussion, several member States expressed their concerns about the ability to meet the standards for the effective exercise of FSJ when MASS are controlled by ROCs situated in countries other than the flag State. Delegates raised several notable points: UNCLOS does not allow the transfer of flag State responsibility to ROCs located in other countries; if the ROC operating a MASS is situated outside of its flag State, significant questions arise regarding the flag State’s capacity to maintain effective control over the ROC; the host State, which may have territorial jurisdiction over the ROC but no related obligations under UNCLOS, might not have a clear role; these jurisdictional uncertainties create ambiguity for flag, port, and coastal States about which country exercises jurisdiction over a MASS; this could dilute the flag State’s responsibilities to a more symbolic level, inconsistent with UNCLOS; ROCs located outside the flag State would not fall under the flag State’s effective jurisdiction; flag States might not have adequate access to ROCs situated in other countries; and applying the ISM Code model may not be sufficient to ensure effective access and oversight, thus necessitating bilateral or multilateral agreements.
Conversely, several States argued that locating a ROC abroad does not inherently weaken the jurisdictional connection. They claimed that such an arrangement is already grounded in existing maritime practices and legal frameworks. They supported the application of the ISM Code model to MASS operations through ROCs by noting that existing IMO instrumentsFootnote 15 already provide the framework for flag State oversight. Moreover, those States further expressed that currently international shipping operates efficiently with minimal physical ties to a flag State’s territory; flag States frequently oversee the operation of their ships by establishing offices in different parts of the world; and, as international law does not require the physical presence of a vessel or its associated entities within a flag State’s territory, it would be unusual to claim that ROCs must be located solely within the territory of the flag State (IMO 2024f).
Notwithstanding the positive approach of some member States that are also expected to be the leading MASS technology providers, uninterrupted shipping requires a broader consensus, including port States.
1.5 MASS Access to Ports
UNCLOS does not have specific provisions that directly address the entry of foreign ships into ports, leaving detailed rules on access to port States and other relevant international agreements (Mbiah Reference Mbiah, Mukherjee, Mejia and Xu2020, 507). Under UNCLOS, maritime areas located landward of the baseline are considered internal waters, over which coastal States have full and absolute sovereignty. Legally speaking, internal waters are treated as the coastal State’s land territory. Internal waters include features such as ports. Article 11 states that the outermost parts of harbor works are considered part of the coast. This effectively makes them part of the baseline, placing ports within internal waters. Hence, the foreign-flagged vessels do not have a right of access to internal waters beyond the baseline where ports are located. Consequently, subject to a few exceptions, foreign vessels do not have a general right to enter internal waters without prior authorization from the coastal State (Kraska Reference Kraska2011; Kraska and Pedrozo Reference Kraska and Paul Pedrozo2023, 69).
Indeed, for a vessel to fall under PSJ, it must visit the port voluntarily rather than seeking shelter due to distress or force majeure. In the doctrine, it is mostly acknowledged that port States should limit their authority over vessels that have entered their ports out of distress and avoid strictly imposing national laws on such vessels (Marten Reference Marten2014, 27–28). Therefore, foreign-flagged ships do not have a right to enter ports unless specific international obligations dictate otherwise. Moreover, in port, these vessels must adhere to the laws of the port State. Port States possess residual territorial jurisdiction, allowing them to implement more stringent measures than those outlined in IMO Conventions, unless such instruments explicitly prohibit these further measures (Ryngaert and Ringbom Reference Ryngaert and Ringbom2016, 382).
PSJ enables the port State to implement jurisdictional measures over ships in line with the provisions of UNCLOS. According to Article 211(3), a port State can refuse entry to a vessel if it does not meet the State’s specific requirements related to CDEM standards under certain conditions outlined in that provision. Additionally, Article 218 grants port States the power to investigate and initiate proceedings against foreign vessels that are suspected of committing discharge violations. Remarkably, this includes not only violations within the jurisdiction of the port State, such as in its internal waters, territorial sea, and EEZ, but also violations that occur on the high seas, marking a significant expansion of the port State’s jurisdictional capabilities (Keselj Reference Keselj1999, 128).
As a matter of fact, international law recognizes a port State’s broad discretion in exercising jurisdiction over its ports. In the Nicaragua case, the International Court of Justice acknowledged the discretionary right of port States. The Court noted that coastal States, through their sovereignty, have the authority to regulate access to their ports.Footnote 16 UNCLOS also confirmed the vast discretionary right of port States (Articles 25(2), 211(3), and 255).
Since ports fall under the sovereignty of the port State, that State can set specific requirements for foreign vessels entering its ports, provided that the requirements have been adequately publicized and communicated to the IMO (Beckman and Sun Reference Beckman and Sun2017, 223–226; Kopela Reference Kopela2016, 94–95). Moreover, port States can designate which ports are open to foreign vessels and can close ports to those vessels based on their national interests (Swan Reference Swan2016, 396). Therefore, unless bound by specific obligations, hypothetically, a port State, by setting entry requirements that exceed international standards, can refuse RCS access to its ports.
In line with the existing legal framework, States appear to have the right to deny RCS access to their ports. Pursuant to Articles 25(2) and 211(3) of UNCLOS, States have the right to refuse ships access to their ports and to impose specific regulations on port calls by foreign ships. This could create a general barrier to the operation of MASS if port States are categorically against them. However, entry requirements set by port States must adhere to the principles of good faith and nonabuse of rights under Article 300 of UNCLOS, which involve considerations of jurisdictional reasonableness, nondiscrimination, proportionality, and respect for the rights of other States (see Articles 24(1), 25(3), 119(3), and 227). Consequently, achieving international consensus on the regulatory requirements for RCS is crucial to ensure that they are not confined to national waters where maritime authorities have a favorable stance on these vessels (Danish Maritime Authority 2017, 16, 40–41; Jordan Reference Jordan2020, 296–297; Kopela Reference Kopela2016, 105).
1.5.1 International Trade Law on Port States and MASS
As discussed earlier, port States can impose stricter standards than IMO norms as conditions for foreign ships to enter their ports. These high standards can regulate the behavior of foreign ships within the port area and may naturally extend to their actions outside the port before entering. Thus, through domestic laws, port States can indirectly establish extraterritorial jurisdiction over foreign ships, which is critical in the context of MASS. This can hinder MASS operations and may eventually lead to hidden trade barriers and discriminatory practices (Chen Reference Chen2023).
Even though port States usually have broad discretion under IMO and International Labour Organization instruments, this discretion can be considerably limited by bilateral or multilateral trade law treaties to which a particular port State might be a party. The most significant limitations to PSJ may originate from international trade law rather than UNCLOS. International trade treaties under the World Trade Organization (WTO) can impose restrictions on PSJ. Since PSJ can restrict international trade, particularly in goods, it could potentially conflict with WTO law – specifically the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade,Footnote 17 which includes the principles of freedom of transit (Molenaar Reference Molenaar, Freestone, Barnes and Ong2006, 202; Ringbom Reference Ringbom2011, 632–637; Ryngaert and Ringbom Reference Ryngaert and Ringbom2016, 386–388).
1.5.2 Facilitation Committee
For the operation of RCS, technology is expected to be increasingly responsible for information sharing with the flag, coastal, or port State authorities. Indeed, remote operation requires accurate, up-to-date data and reliable communication systems. The IMO’s Facilitation Committee (FAL), which is tasked with addressing the facilitation of international shipping, concluded its RSE at the Facilitation Convention (FAL 46) in 2022 (IMO n.d.-a).
The outcome of the FAL’s RSE noted that a new type of certification and identification for MASS operations would be required for the new duties. In this respect, it is indeed important to take the procedures for declarations made on arrival and departure into account. FAL also identified certificates and other documents and the sharing of information as high-priority cross-cutting issues. Regarding the requirements for the arrival, stay, and departure of ships to and from ports, shipowners must present their certificates and other documents related to registration, measurement, safety, manning, and similar matters to public authorities. Hence, the relevant certificates, documents, and data may need to be amended if new certification requirements for RCS are developed (IMO 2022, 2024d). The future work of FAL can be instrumental in mitigating the concerns of port States, as well as facilitating the operation of RCS.
1.6 Pilotage for MASS as an Incentive for Skeptical Port States
1.6.1 Definition
The conditions that ships encounter in the high seas naturally differ significantly from those in port areas. In ports, there is usually high traffic density. Additionally, tides, shallow waters, and other unique port characteristics can present higher navigational hazards than in open seas. Therefore, pilotage is indeed necessary, as it offers local knowledge. Essentially, a pilot possesses specialized knowledge of local conditions and navigational hazards and is typically brought aboard a vessel at a specific location to navigate or guide the ship through a particular channel or river, or enclosed waters, to or from a port. A “pilot” is defined as an individual who possesses specialized knowledge of local navigation conditions and potential hazards (Agripino de Castro Reference Agripino de Castro, Pasold, Attard, Fitzmaurice, Martinez, Arroyo and Belja2016, 423; Aucoin Reference Aucoin2024, 22–23).
1.6.2 Interplay between Pilotage and MASS
Pilotage services, while often seen as specialized services for shipping, also function as public services due to the significant potential risk of accidents and groundings. The success of pilotage service rests on effective communication and information exchange among the pilot and the master. At times, pilots already provide guidance remotely from shore via radio communications as well. Regardless of the method, MASS integration is likely to significantly transform the nature of pilotage operations. But, in any event, it is clear that an RCS would greatly benefit from a pilot’s insights; moreover, pilotage can serve as a reassurance for port States. The extent and direction of these changes will largely depend on technological advancements in this field. Regardless of these developments, the value of a local guide remains clear; a remote master will undoubtedly benefit from the expertise of a pilot familiar with the local maritime environment (Aro and Heiskari Reference Aro and Heiskari2018, 28–29; Uğurlu et al. Reference Uğurlu, Kaptan, Kum and Yildiz2017; Van Hooydonk Reference Van Hooydonk2014, 416).
Notably, the pilotage service is not exclusively governed by an international instrument, making the legal landscape complex. The legal status of pilots and the performance of pilotage services are regulated by domestic laws. Therefore, guidance should be sought from domestic laws until the situation changes. Typically, such laws grant local ports the authority to regulate and establish pilotage requirements at a local level. Consequently, even in a single country, different ports may have distinct pilotage requirements. Such local regulations often vary and may not be consistent even at the national level, let alone regionally or internationally. Ehlers notes that these services are thus far typically provided within national waters, especially in internal waters. Hence, the international law of the sea has only occasionally influenced pilotage in specific cases (Black Reference Black2020, 12–13; Ehlers Reference Ehlers2024).
According to the UK Pilotage Act 1987, pilot means any person not belonging to a ship who has control of the ship. Under the Maltese Maritime Pilotage Regulations, “pilotage” means the act performed by a licensed pilot to assist the master during navigation and maneuvering when entering, departing, or shifting in port areas (Article 3). The Danish Pilotage Act allows shore-based pilotage. It defines “pilotage” as navigational advice regardless of whether the advice is provided to the master on board the vessel or by means of communication from a distant location (Davies Reference Davies, Ringbom, Røsæg and Solvang2020, 281–282).
Remote pilotage is applicable to any ship but is particularly pertinent to MASS. These vessels are likely unable to utilize traditional pilotage services – where a pilot physically boards the ship to provide navigational advice – due to physical and technical constraints. For degree two ships, which have onboard crews, complying with local pilotage requirements will be a straightforward task due to the presence of crew. Degrees three and four ships, which operate without any onboard crew, present unique challenges for pilotage. For these vessels, pilotage options may need to include shore-based pilotage, where a pilot remotely guides the ship from land (Danish Maritime Authority 2017, 21; Davies Reference Davies, Ringbom, Røsæg and Solvang2020, 284–286). Indeed, there is no legal requirement for the pilot to be physically on board the vessel to which they are rendering their services. Besides, it would be impractical for a pilot to board an RCS unless necessitated by urgent circumstances or domestic regulations. For these types of vessels, pilotage services are likely to be provided remotely. For instance, Finland has recently enacted legislation that permits pilotage to be conducted remotely (Soyer et al. Reference Soyer, Tettenborn and Leloudas2022, 12–13).
The IMO Assembly, in 2003, adopted a resolution on “Recommendations on Training and Certification and on Operational Procedures for Maritime Pilots Other Than Deep-Sea Pilots.” This nonbinding resolution acknowledges the crucial role of pilots in enhancing maritime safety and protecting the marine environment. In particular, the IMO underscores that pilotage areas require highly specialized local knowledge and experience of various specific port areas and waterways. The IMO had earlier highlighted that it does not intend to be involved with the member States’ pilotage systems (IMO 2003). As early as 1968, it recommended that States organize pilotage services in areas where they enhance navigational safety more effectively than other measures. Chapter V of SOLAS (see Regulation 23) notes that vessels engaged on voyages during which pilots may be employed are required to have pilot transfer arrangements to ensure the safety of pilots. In line with SOLAS, there is an obligation for State parties to establish various maritime safety services, including aids to navigation, hydrographic, meteorological, search and rescue, and vessel traffic services. However, pilotage services are not specifically mentioned among such mandatory services. Ehlers opines that this likely stems from the absence of a perceived need for international regulation of pilotage services to date (Ehlers Reference Ehlers2024, 4). Although the IMO, thus far rightly, avoided regulating pilotage issues comprehensively because of strong reference to varying local conditions, this may need to change, in part, in the era of MASS.
1.6.3 Compulsory Pilotage
A “compulsory” pilot is one required by national laws. Conversely, a “voluntary” pilot is one whom a ship owner chooses to employ without any legal obligation (Force Reference Force2004, 149). Pursuant to the Convention and Statute on the International Régime of Maritime Ports (see Article 11), State parties have the authority to administer pilotage, including the establishment of compulsory pilotage. Given the sovereignty exercised by coastal States over their internal waters and ports, there are generally no limitations under international law on the imposition of compulsory pilotage in these areas (Ehlers Reference Ehlers2024, 9–10).
Yet, unlike the authority to designate sea lanes or traffic separation schemes, UNCLOS does not expressly specify the procedures to establish compulsory pilotage in coastal waters. Thus, the rules of the reference system also do not point out to the IMO. Moreover, State practice is also not clear in this area. Nevertheless, a few examples show the possible competence of coastal States to implement quasi-compulsory pilotage within their territorial seas, as seen, for example, in the Strait of Messina, the Great Barrier Reef, and around Svalbard Island. The adoption of such pilotage systems depends on the unique characteristics of each area, including the reliability of the system, the availability of qualified pilots, and the cost of services, and, more importantly, the nonhampering of the innocent passage (Solski Reference Solski2021, 411–414).
For pilotage services offered within internal waters, including port areas, there is generally no issue, as the coastal State exercises unrestricted sovereignty therein. Nevertheless, beyond internal waters, the legality of establishing pilotage services depends on whether such services impair the existing rights of navigation in the respective maritime zones. This consideration is crucial in maintaining the balance between enhancing safety through pilotage and upholding the principle of freedom of navigation as prescribed by international law (Ehlers Reference Ehlers2024, 5–6). Notably, one should be cautious considering that Australian efforts to impose compulsory pilotage as a protective measure in the Particularly Sensitive Sea Area of the Torres Strait have faced strong opposition from flag States underscoring their transit passage rights under international law. The eventual compromise involved enforcing compulsory pilotage in the Torres Strait exclusively for vessels entering Australian ports (Kopela Reference Kopela2016, 101–102).
However, despite the limitations, Article 21(1)(a) and (f) of UNCLOS allows coastal States to implement regulations aimed at enhancing maritime safety and environmental protection. This framework arguably enables coastal States to mandate pilotage in these waters as a measure to ensure the safety of navigation and safeguard the marine environment in relation to RCS operations while still respecting the principle of innocent passage. However, any national regulations related to pilotage must not only pursue safety and environmental protection but also adhere strictly to established international norms. In light of this, the compulsory pilotage for MASS arguably would not be seen as an interference with the navigational passage rights. Therefore, compulsory pilotage, when implemented to enhance navigational safety and environmental protection, does not contravene Articles 24(1) and 211(4) and can be regarded as necessary and proportionate. Moreover, the compulsory pilotage in port approach waters beyond internal waters can be justified, especially when ships are bound to enter internal waters or ports, as coastal States can set conditions for entry to their ports based on Article 25(2). Indeed, this provision allows the coastal State to enforce regulations such as compulsory pilotage to prevent breaches of entry conditions into its waters (Ehlers Reference Ehlers2024, 9–13).
Arguably, the coastal States seem to have the discretion to mandate compulsory pilotage for RCS as a condition for port entry. For instance, while pilotage through the Turkish Straits remains optional during peace times for merchant vessels under the 1936 Montreux Convention (Articles 2 and 4),Footnote 18 Türkiye can impose obligatory pilotage services in the straits if there is an imminent threat of war (Article 6). Significantly, this situation differs for ships that are calling at a Turkish port within the straits area, where compulsory pilotage can be established as a port entry requirement. Pilotage services for RCS to alleviate the concerns of port States, and even of coastal States, should be established and elucidated under the IMO’s MASS Code to enhance the safety of navigation and environmental protection. Concurrently, the conditions under which States can mandate compulsory pilotage for MASS beyond internal waters need to be clarified to ensure consistent application and understanding. This may be contingent upon the consent of IMO member States, like existing regulations for ship routing and ship reporting services (Ehlers Reference Ehlers2024, 18–24).
1.7 Port State Control
According to Beckman, the IMO since its inception has focused on compliance with international conventions from the perspectives of both flag and port States. The IMO initially recognized that flag States should have comprehensive and continuous control over their ships. To facilitate this, the IMO has developed guidelines to help flag States implement its instruments. In addition, the IMO system strongly depends on port State control (PSC) to address deficiencies in flag State compliance (Beckman and Sun Reference Beckman and Sun2017, 228).
PSC entails the practical implementation by port States of administrative authority to ascertain whether the documentation and condition of a foreign vessel adhere to their national legislation, as well as international regulations and standards ratified by port States. The overall objective of PSC is to supplement flag State responsibilities and tackle substandard ships (Bang Reference Bang2013, 116–117). Port States are only authorized to conduct PSC for those conventions that they have ratified and incorporated into their domestic laws (IMO 2023b).
Naturally, PSJ encompasses a broader scope than PSC. PSJ is the legal basis of PSC. It includes the authority to carry out control inspections and extends to prescriptive and enforcement jurisdiction over foreign-flagged ships in their ports based on national or international law. Molenaar observes that PSC is most effectively understood within the context of the regional PSC agreements. These regional agreements were established in response to deficiencies in flag State performance and the prevalence of “ports of convenience.” They involve harmonized and coordinated PSC procedures, along with commitments to conduct inspections and primarily enforce corrective measures (Molenaar Reference Molenaar2021, para. 6). Legally speaking, although memoranda of understanding (MOUs) are not treaties, they are important regional arrangements designed for collaboration between maritime administrations to enhance the implementation of international regulations and to prevent unfair competition among ports within the same region. By joining regional memoranda, States commit their ports to harmonize their procedures. The regional MOU systems have brought several benefits: they enhance predictability by standardizing regional inspection procedures, increase awareness among their members through robust information sharing, and boost efficiency by preventing duplicated inspections (Blanco-Bazan Reference Blanco-Bazan, Joseph Attard, Balkin and Greig2018, 45; Molenaar Reference Molenaar1996, 241–242; Whomersley Reference Whomersley2020, 333–334; Yu et al. Reference Yu, Zhao and Chang2018, 87–88).
Notwithstanding its role as an enforcement mechanism for international standards, PSC ultimately relies on the sovereignty of the port State and its corresponding jurisdiction (Coelho Reference Coelho2015, 272). The bottom line is that the PSC regime grants the authority to board, inspect, and, if deemed necessary, detain a foreign vessel (Hare Reference Hare1997). PSC has the potential not only to serve the national interest but also to advance the broader interests of the international community at large. The evolution of PSC in the framework of PSJ has seen significant developments through the inclusion of relevant provisions in all pertinent IMO and ILO instruments. By conducting inspections to assess both the physical condition of visiting ships and their certifications, PSC ensures adherence to international safety and environmental standards. Thus, PSC practice involves the inspection of vessels while in port to ensure that they comply with globally agreed standards. PSJ has grown gradually more complex, not merely due to updates to relevant international instruments but also because of its continual expansion into new subject areas. Initially, PSC inspections primarily focused on CDEM standards. During the 1990s, the focus within the IMO shifted toward the “human element.” More recently, this evolution has expanded to include issues such as vessel-source air pollution, maritime security, ballast water management, and ship scrapping. Each of these areas includes components that enhance the scope of PSJ through PSCs (Balkin Reference Balkin, Joseph Attard, Balkin and Greig2018, 23–24; Derrig Reference Derrig2022, 534–536; Marten Reference Marten2014, 4–5; Molenaar Reference Molenaar, Freestone, Barnes and Ong2006, 202–205).
PSC constitutes a crucial and evolving component of international shipping regulation. Despite still being seen as supplementary to FSJ, the evolution of PSC in the context of PSJ remains significant, as it signifies a gradual shift away from the notion of flag States bearing primary responsibility for ensuring vessel standards. A noteworthy example of this shift is the application of PSC to all vessels visiting foreign ports, as demonstrated by the “no more favorable treatment” principle, by means of which port States have the authority to enforce IMO regulations and standards on foreign-flagged vessels visiting their ports, irrespective of whether a flag State is a party to a specific IMO Convention or not (Marten Reference Marten2014, 46–49). PSC is a globally agreed practice but also an evolving concept. As the IMO adopts new conventions, the PSC framework will also adapt to reflect these developments (Mbiah Reference Mbiah, Mukherjee, Mejia and Xu2020, 517–521).
In the context of RCS, it is noteworthy that ships are required to carry several certificates on board in their international navigation in compliance with international conventions. Therefore, for degrees three and four, where seafarers do not physically onboard the vessel, handling certificates, record books, and other necessary documents pose challenges. Consequently, there is a pressing need for explicit regulations managing the use of appropriate digital documents. Additionally, in the practical execution of inspections, particularly PSC for MASS, the development of specialized guidelines and regulations is imperative. Since there are seafarers on board in degree two RCS, there is no issue in following the current regulations. However, in the absence of crew members for degree three RCS, a possible solution would be to relocate the required certificates to ROCs together with the crew. Or, the digitization of the certificates can also be a solution. FAL 42 endorsed guidelines for the adoption of electronic certificates (IMO 2016), urging State parties to transition to electronic certificates (Jo et al. Reference Jo, Lee, Kim and Seo2020). Furthermore, foreign ROCs located in port States should arguably be subject to PSC.
1.8 Conclusion
The advent of RCS marks a revolutionary transformation in international shipping. However, it also leads to thorny legal questions, particularly in the context of State jurisdiction and ensuring safety of navigation. As this study has explored, the integration of RCS into the global merchant fleet poses unique challenges for flag States and new roles for port States due to the peculiar nature and location of ROCs. The law of ports grants States significant discretion in exercising jurisdiction over their ports. In this context, the ever-increasing trend of port States in ensuring compliance in general may also be instrumental in alleviating legal tension stemming from remote operations.
In addition to the operation of RCS, the location of ROCs is also legally sensitive. In this regard, flag States may perhaps choose to prohibit the operation of ROCs in other countries. However, this cannot be the ultimate solution, as there is no such corresponding obligation for flag States under the UNCLOS regime. On the other hand, it is equally true that FSJ alone may be insufficient, especially for ROCs located in territories other than flag States. Therefore, to ensure compliance of RCS, the measures taken by port States need to be significantly reinforced. While it remains crucial for flag States to uphold their international responsibilities, port States can certainly play a pivotal role for ROCs and RCS.
Arguably, remote shipping heralds and necessitates a broader role for port States. Although the IMO traditionally does not regulate ports, this may also need to be reconsidered in light of the transformation of shipping. Perhaps this could be in the context of special port arrangements for ROCs. Analogically, ROCs can be considered as ships visiting ports. PSC can be conducted especially at the beginning of each new voyage entailing remote operation through the ROCs. Since there is no jurisdiction as host State in the law of the sea regime, port States can increasingly continue to be the ultimate safety net and could ensure that foreign ROCs are fully compliant with IMO norms. It may be safe to argue that port States will play a critical role in the transition and successful realization of RCS operations.
Finally, given that ports are under the sovereignty of port States, port entry for RCSs is not a right but rather a privilege that is subject to domestic law. Thus, port States can impose stricter standards than international norms as conditions for foreign RCS to enter their ports. Port States therefore have the right to deny RCS access to their ports, as they would with conventional manned ships, until the IMO develops relevant GAIRS. But this would probably not be in the interests of port States, as they also depend on international shipping and generating income from their ports. Having said that, conflicting State practices may emerge due to diverging interests and priorities or to policy reasons, as well as due to the different legal interpretations. At least for the safety apprehensions, compulsory pilotage for RCS in the port approach waters may significantly alleviate the potential concerns of port States. Therefore, it may be advisable to establish an obligation to request pilotage services in areas where local conditions necessitate it under the IMO’s MASS Code.
2.1 Introduction
The form of a ship has been subject to considerable change and development, both structurally and technically, throughout the centuries, but one factor has always remained constant: “the human element” (Sözer Reference Sözer2024). The crew has always been on board the ship and has remained responsible for the operation, maintenance, navigation, and safety of the ship and its cargo. However, technological developments in shipbuilding and automation systems, such as AI and robotics, have in the past few years started to switch, or indeed promote, the shipping industry to a new level, which has been termed “autonomous shipping” – a distinguishing feature of which is the belief that the presence of the crew on board the ship should no longer be looked upon as an elementary condition, although some have submitted their concerns about this profound shift in the industry and asserted that the operation of autonomous ships on the sea is merely utopian and does not seem possible or viable when today’s technology is taken into regard (Karlis Reference Karlis2018, 120).Footnote 1 The Yara Birkeland,Footnote 2 Shortfall of Gravitas,Footnote 3 Mayflower,Footnote 4 and Zhi FeiFootnote 5 are good examples to illustrate where the shipping sector is at the moment.
Considering their economic and environmental benefits and the prospects of better navigational safety compared to their human-controlled counterparts (AAWA 2016, 4; Burmeister et al. Reference Burmeister, Bruhn, Rødseth and Porathe2014, 5; Cain and Turner Reference Cain and Turner2018; Coraddu et al. Reference Coraddu, Oneto, de Maya and Kurt2020, 1–2; Kretschmann et al. Reference Kretschmann, Burmeister and Jahn2017, 78; Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 23–27; Tettenborn Reference Tettenborn, Soyer and Tettenborn2020, 118n17), it is likely that these unmanned ships, which can be partially or fully autonomous, will soon be widely operational. Despite the perceived benefits, the use of autonomous ships also poses certain risks. Indeed, one of the most challenging aspects of the proliferation of autonomous ships is widely considered to be the potential legal problems associated with their use. This is mainly because the current maritime legal framework was designed and developed for ships that are wholly controlled by a crew on board the ship. Therefore, to what extent the present laws and regulations are compatible with autonomous ships is a question to be answered conclusively. Many projects on autonomous ships have been developed over the past ten yearsFootnote 6 in different parts of the world, especially in major shipping countries such as Finland, Norway, and the UK. Some of these projects have been dedicated to the applicability of the existing legal rules to autonomous ships at the national and international levels,Footnote 7 such as the Maritime Unmanned Navigation through Intelligence Networks (MUNIN) project,Footnote 8 the Advanced Autonomous Waterborne Applications Initiative (AAWA),Footnote 9 and the Comité Maritime International Working Group on Maritime Autonomous Surface Ships.Footnote 10 Since 2017, the International Maritime Organization (IMO) has addressed the potential legal issues concerning the introduction of autonomous ships (IMO 2017b). The IMO’s Regulatory Scoping Exercise for the Use of Maritime Autonomous Surface Ships (MASS) concluded in 2021 (IMO 2021, annex). The Maritime Safety Committee, during its 105th session, approved a separate code for autonomous ships and commenced drafting the MASS Code (IMO 2022b, 37). The nonmandatory CodeFootnote 11 was set to be formally adopted in May 2026, with the effective date for adoption being July 1, 2030 (IMO 2024b).Footnote 12
So far, the steps being taken to address the potential legal problems associated with autonomous ships are mostly focused on IMO instruments, as well as the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS)Footnote 13 and the Civil Liability ConventionFootnote 14 (Hunter Reference Hunter, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 209). However, the concerns of industry in relation to autonomous ships should also be addressed.Footnote 15 This chapter reviews the standard forms of charterparties as a significant part of the overall study of rules, regulations, and civil liability (219). Following this review, the chapter turns to how the concept of time charterparty finds applicability to this new generation of ships, how the fundamental obligations of shipowners and charterers under the standard time charter forms will be affected, and to what extent the current standard contractual framework for time charter forms needs to be changed. Since English law is predominant in the field of charterparties, the analysis is derived from that perspective. It is also noted that charterparty relations are mainly conducted through standard charterparty forms.Footnote 16 These forms have been designed with types of trade, the needs of the charter industry, and developments in law in mind. There are various standard time charter forms in current usage.Footnote 17 The New York Produce Exchange (NYPE) form is one of the shipping industry’s most widely used dry-cargo time charterparties (BIMCO 2015; Plomaritou and Papadopoulos Reference Plomaritou and Papadopoulos2017, 235).Footnote 18 The analysis in this chapter is limited to the most recent version, NYPE 2015.Footnote 19
2.2 Autonomous Ships Generally
2.2.1 Definition of Autonomous Ships and Analysis of Levels of Automation in Ship Operation
The notion of autonomous vessels remains notably elusive, with no singular, universally recognized definition to command the field of discourse. However, the definition posited by the IMO is one of the most widely acknowledged and frequently cited. The IMO opts for the term “Maritime Autonomous Surface Ship” (MASS), meaning “a ship which, to a varying degree, can operate independently of human interaction” (IMO 2021, annex, 3, 2018a). The IMO further refines this definition by categorizing MASS into four distinct classes, gradated according to the extent to which automation permeates the operational functions of the vessel.Footnote 20 In this categorization,Footnote 21 with ships in the first degree of autonomy, the crew is on board for the purpose of providing the ship’s direction and management. However, there is automation in some operations and the seafarer can intervene when necessary. A ship in this group is referred to as a “ship with automated process and decision support.” Ships with a second degree of autonomy can be controlled and operated remotely. However, the crew continues to be on board to make interventions when necessary. The ships that will bring about the most radical change in the maritime industry are those with the third and fourth degrees of autonomy, due to the absence of a crew on board the ship. In third-degree ships, the crew is not on board; it is accepted that the ship is operated and managed remotely by personnel in a center established on land or on shore. A ship in this category is a “remotely controlled ship without seafarers on board,” or a semi-autonomous ship. Finally, ships with a fourth degree of autonomy, or “fully autonomous ships,” have no crew on board and no active control by personnel from the remote operation center. Through AI systems integrated into the system, the ship determines its movement by evaluating the current situation and conditions and making the necessary decisions regarding the operation of the ship without the need for human support. In spite of the self-operation feature of this group of ships, remote operation centers still exist,Footnote 22 but the role of center personnel is limited to monitoring the actions of the system and decision-making process in case of system failure (IMO 2017a, 6). Whatever the method of operation and the level of autonomy, there should be a person in charge of the autonomous ship, either on board or in a remote operation center, who has the authority to intervene, performing the duties of the master (IMO 2023e, 42, 2023b, 4). Regarding the relationship between these accepted degrees, the IMO suggests that the levels do not represent a hierarchical order (IMO 2018b, annex 1, 1, 2021, annex, 4).
Based on these autonomy levels, theoretically, in a particular case, a ship may operate at just one level. There may be no expectation that the ship’s autonomy level will change; the ship is assumed to operate at a fixed autonomy level throughout the voyage, or to maintain a “static autonomy level” (Barber et al. Reference Barber, Goel and Martin2000, 145). However, it is also possible to design systems where the autonomy level changes during the voyage, based on different conditions or operations. For example, a ship may be designed to operate autonomously while sailing on the high seas, but the design might also enable control to transfer to the operator or crew during specific phases of the voyage, such as passing through a busy strait, entering a port, or performing docking or loading operations (AAWA 2016, 30; Ringbom and Collin Reference Ringbom, Collin, Ringbom, Røsæg and Solvang2021, 14–15). A ship’s autonomy level may change multiple times during the voyage (Barber et al. Reference Barber, Goel and Martin2000, 130; Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 45). This is referred to as a “dynamic autonomy level” in ship operation. Autonomous ships will transition freely between different levels of autonomy during a particular voyage (AAWA 2016, 6–7; Fukuto Reference Fukuto2021, 47; Maritime UK 2022, 20–21; Ringbom and Collin Reference Ringbom, Collin, Ringbom, Røsæg and Solvang2021, 14–15; Yang et al. Reference Yang, Utne, Sandøy, Ramos and Rokseth2020). The operation and design of autonomous ships currently in service, such as the Yara BirkelandFootnote 23 and the Prism Courage,Footnote 24 support this submission.Footnote 25 The analysis in this chapter is approached through the prism of “dynamic autonomy.” The term “autonomous ship” is used to refer to a ship operated without any crew on board.
2.2.2 Remote Operation Center
Unlike conventional ships, autonomous ships consist of two separate parts, the first of which has a classical appearance at sea. Because the crew is completely separated from the ship, its operation and monitoring involve a remote operation center.Footnote 26 That center is defined as “a location remote from the MASS that can operate some or all aspects of the functions of the MASS” (IMO 2023b, 6).Footnote 27 The center is also defined as a structure consisting of computer hardware, telecommunications equipment, and various high-tech tools arranged to perform a specific function, managed and operated by the relevant personnel (Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 84).Footnote 28 It is possible to list the functions of the center as monitoring the ship, ensuring the ship’s direction and management, collecting data, and fulfilling certain legal obligations (Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 89–92). However, depending on the fact of each case, its main function may change during a particular voyage. Following the dynamic autonomy submission, for example, if the ship proceeds on the high seas, the main function of the center might be to monitor the ship. But, if the ship is sailing through a busy strait, the main function of the center might be to control the ship. Physical conditions and technical conditions may require such an active role change by the center during the voyage. It may not be technically possible to sail the ship remotely throughout the voyage – for example, where continuous data exchange and communication between the ship and the operation center, located either on land or aboard another vessel,Footnote 29 is not provided (AAWA 2016, 4). This communication would depend on the transmission of high-resolution and large-scale data collected by various sensors, cameras, radar, infrared technology, and the Automatic Identification System (AIS), ensuring that the operation center can maintain uninterrupted access to the ship’s systems (Ciğer Reference Ciğer2024, 1145).Footnote 30 The reliability of current technologies to facilitate such data transfer is debatable, particularly concerning potential risks arising from connection delays, as well as adverse factors such as weather and distance (1145).Footnote 31 Solutions may involve utilizing both technologies (remote operation and autonomous operation) in tandem (1146)Footnote 32 and active role changes at the remote operation center. The ship will be controlled through an interface in which the bridge is simulated in the center, which replicates camera and sensor systems on the ship, plus controls such as steering gear and joysticks for the remote operator.Footnote 33
There are three main issues around the concept of the remote operation center. The first relates to the status of the remote operator.Footnote 34 The remote operator is responsible for monitoring the ship’s condition, course, speed, and environmental factors during navigation in light of the information sent from the ship; supervising the decision held by the system; and, when necessary, taking direct operation and management of the ship (Ciğer Reference Ciğer2024, 1149; Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 88–93). The Joint Working Group (JWG) has yet to explain fully the role of the remote operator, though it has provisionally affirmed that, irrespective of the level of autonomy, a human captain must preside over each autonomous ship (IMO 2023b, 4). In the report submitted by the International Federation of Shipmaster’s Associations on the roles and responsibilities of the master, it is also emphasized that autonomous ships are ships by nature and that they need a master. Autonomous ships, like all ships, should be under the command and control of a master who has both situational awareness and sufficient maritime knowledge (IMO 2023a, 4). The role of the ship master will not disappear, but the execution of the role may be filled by a person on land who has the necessary qualifications and can exercise discretionary authority when necessary (4). A MASS ship master may be preferred over traditional manning (IMO 2023a, annex, 1). At this point, it should be mentioned that the UK was among the first countries to issue regulations on personnel working in remote operation centers. The Maritime and Coastguard Agency adopted the Workboat Code Edition 3 in December 2023. The technical requirements for the operation of ships remotely controlled are regulated within Annex 2. The Code is also important in terms of the definition of the remote operator. In Annex 2, the remote operator is defined as “any person, including the Master, with recognised or certifiable experience who is engaged in the remote operation of a [Remotely Operated Unmanned Vessel]” (MCA 2023, 27). The existence of a master in the remote operation center is also accepted by the JWG, which notes that the human master should have the means to intervene in ship operations when necessary, regardless of the mode of operation and the autonomy level (IMO 2023b, 4). Analysis held in the literature also demonstrates that the general trend is to treat the remote operator of the ship as a master while the application of master-related terms is evaluated. For example, the authors who analyze the application of Article 4(2)(a) of the Hague-Visby RulesFootnote 35 to autonomous ships submitted that a remote operator can be treated as the functional equivalent of a master in the context of the relevant article, so that the carrier can escape from liability for loss and damage arising due to the fault of the remote operator in the navigation or management of the autonomous ship (Baughen Reference Baughen, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 87–88; Stevens Reference Stevens, Soyer and Tettenborn2020, 159, 161). The prevailing view, in essence, is to regard those entrusted with the control and operation of the ship – despite their absence from the ship’s physical presence – as holding positions akin to master and crew.Footnote 36 It follows that personnel tasked with the governance of autonomous ships should be recognized in a capacity resembling that of the ship’s master, bearing responsibilities comparable to those traditionally assigned to the master. This rationale, therefore, warrants the assertion that the relationship between the shore-based operational center staff and their autonomous vessels mirrors, in substance, the long-established association between the master and the time charterer.
The second issue regarding the remote operation center is whether each center and remote operator will be responsible for the operation of only one ship or more than one. The MUNIN project plans for up to ninety ships controlled from a remote center (Porathe et al. Reference Porathe, Costa and Tjora2014, 2). The project also suggests that one operator may be responsible for monitoring and controlling up to six ships (Man et al. Reference Man, Lundh and Porathe2015, 2676). The possibility of a master being in charge of more than one ship was supported by the JWG (IMO 2023b, 5). It can be inferred from this approach that the general view of the JWG is that more than one ship can be controlled from one center. One of the currently active remote operation centers, Massterly in Horten, Norway, provides management and operation services for the Yara Birkeland and ASKO’s electric barges MS Marit and MS Therese. This example also demonstrates the practical application of a single center controlling multiple ships (Massterly 2024; Wilhelmsen 2024). In fact, if it is accepted that each vessel will be controlled from a separate center, this will require a huge number of centers to be set up and staffed. From an economic perspective, this proposition appears to lack rationality, so probably the most effective approach would be to operate as many ships as possible from a single center.Footnote 37
The final issue is who will provide the remote operation service. It can be argued that the owner of an autonomous ship can construct its own center and staff it with personnel to monitor and operate the ship. However, these centers consist of computer hardware, telecommunications equipment, and various high-tech tools. The cost of establishing a remote operation center varies based on factors such as facility size, technology integration, and operational requirements. For example, while the cost of equipping and maintaining an autonomous bulker, inclusive of annual operational expenses and rental commitments, remains a matter of rough estimation, it is acknowledged that the investment for the development of the remote operation center lies between US$1 million and US$2.1 million, with annual operational outlay approximating US$0.87 million. The establishment of such a center entails a recurring cost of US$33,000 per vessel annually (Ziajka-Poznańska and Montewka Reference Ziajka-Poznańska and Montewka2021, 6–8), alongside the considerable infrastructure expenses, as exemplified by the KRISO research center’s construction cost of 22.1 billion Korean won (approximately US$16 million) (KRISO n.d.). Following these values, the construction of an individual center by each owner may not be considered economically viable, especially if the shipowner operates a single ship. Since, as noted above, operating more than one ship from the center is a sensible choice, it could be argued that where the shipowner operates larger fleets, it could set up its own remote operation center and all its ships could be operated from the same center. Considering the fact that shipping companies even arrange special ports for their fleet,Footnote 38 this could also be done with respect to the operation center and it could be cost-effective. However, depending on the area it is traveling through, as the ship moves from one port to another it may be necessary for it to change the operation center (Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 85; see also Baughen Reference Baughen, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 84),Footnote 39 such as the air traffic control area and the vessel traffic services system.Footnote 40 This may be due to the difficulty of transmitting information when the ship is at a great distance from the center (Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 85; see also Carey Reference Carey2019, 7).Footnote 41 When the ship goes outside the control area of the remote operation center, the owner of the ship might be required to connect with another center. Rather than the service of remote operation being provided by the shipowner and associated maritime centers throughout the entire voyage, third-party shipping management companies will usually be involved in the operation process. It is not uncommon for shipowners that do not have shipping knowledge and experience to contract with a company to provide technical, crew, and commercial management and ancillary services (Plomaritou and Papadopoulos Reference Plomaritou and Papadopoulos2017, 115). The company can provide a remote operations center and personnel to operate the ship, either onshore or on board, as well as serve as the technical managers of the ship (Hunter Reference Hunter2020).Footnote 42 Steps taken by the Baltic and International Maritime Council (BIMCO) actually reflect this view. The AUTOSHIPMAN agreement was recently adopted by BIMCO in view of the increasing number of remotely operated ships, with the aim of providing a contractual framework for third-party ship managers that deliver operational services for these ships. It contains terms regarding the obligations, responsibilities, and liabilities of the parties (BIMCO 2024b). The form is drafted considering the SHIPMAN 2024 agreement (BIMCO 2024a). In addition, the number of companies offering management and operation services for remotely operated and autonomous vessels is growing by the day (Massterly n.d.; Ocean Infinity 2022). The specialized nature of the capabilities and technology featured in these remote operation centers means that it is prudent to delegate ship responsibilities to specialized entities.
2.3 The Concept of Time Charterparty and Applicability for Autonomous Ships
Time charters are simply contracts for the use of the ship and crew, under which the ship is manned by the shipowner and the charterer has the right to direct the commercial employment of the ship for an agreed period of time within the agreed trading limits in respect of geographical limitations and the type of cargo permissible in consideration of payment of hire, without obtaining possession of the ship (Baughen Reference Baughen, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 93).Footnote 43 From the shipowner’s standpoint, time charters are significant as they provide an opportunity for the shipowner to gain income for a particular period of time without worrying about operational costs. For charterers, this type of contract also serves an important purpose. As stipulated by Lord Wilberforce in The “Nanfri” case, “the nature and purpose of [a time charter] is to enable the charterers to use the vessels during the period of the charters for trading in whatever manner they think fit.”Footnote 44 Most charterers are speculators who aim to gain from the fluctuations in the charter market (Plomaritou and Papadopoulos Reference Plomaritou and Papadopoulos2017, 226). From their perspective, time charters are a tool to maximize profits. Time charters are often used by traders who need transportation for their goods and wish to have maximum flexibility regarding the commercial usage of the ship (225). For example, for sellers who do not own a vessel but often sell their goods under a cost, insurance, and freight contract, time charters are a useful tool to perform their obligations under such sale contracts. There is, therefore, no doubt that time charters play a vital role in international trade.
The fact that a ship is autonomous does not change the significance of the time charter, but it may require a slight change in the definition. Indeed, one of the fundamental features of a time charter is that it gives the charterer the contractual right to direct the commercial employment of the ship within the agreed trading limits through the employment orders given to the master.Footnote 45 In the case of autonomous ships, since there is no crew on board to follow the charterer’s employment orders, the ship is in fact chartered in a bare form – in other words, without crew. It is uncertain whether the concept of time charter will continue to exist or whether it will commence to be used as a form of bareboat charter.
A bareboat charter is a contractual arrangement whereby a ship is chartered by a third party without any crew on board. Under this agreement, possession of the ship and full authority over it pass to the charterer for an agreed period in return for a hire payment (Davies Reference Davies2005, para. 1.1).Footnote 46 Bareboat charters are entered into not so much for the purpose of transporting goods but as part of a complicated financial arrangement. Often, the charterer will in due course become the owner of the ship.Footnote 47 The contract in question may at first sight appear to be similar to a time charter, but with the difference that the bareboat charterer is obliged to provide its own crew, have the possession of the ship, and assume responsibility as “owner” for any liabilities arising during the operation of the ship.Footnote 48 Since the crew is employed by the charterer, any acts, omissions, or negligence committed by the crew are also considered to be the responsibility of the charterer under a bareboat charter.
Where the remote operation center and personnel working in the center are arranged by the time charterer in cases where there are no crew on board an autonomous ship, the concept of time chartering in the form of bareboat chartering is effectively beginning to be used (Baughen Reference Baughen, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 97). However, the accuracy of this submission might change depending on whether – in the future, when autonomous ships are involved in time charter operations – the arrangement of remote operation centers and personnel provided by the time charterer will be the preferred method.
From the shipowner’s point of view, this might at first sight seem to make sense. One of the shipowner’s fundamental concerns under a time charter is that the orders given by the charterer during the charter period remain within the agreed trading limits and do not cause any unsafe situation for the ship, crew, and cargo. This concern in relation to the traditional ship is currently managed by the shipowner and its employee, the master. When the order is first given by the charterer, it is evaluated and a decision is then made to follow or reject it. With regard to autonomous ships, if trading limits in terms of geographical restrictions and the type of cargo permitted under the time charter and safety issues can be managed by the shipowner through an AI system, the shipowner may not need a person to protect its interests in the ship, crew, and cargo and may prefer not to deal separately with a remote operation center (Baughen Reference Baughen, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 97). While this method makes the shipowner’s work easier, it has two downsides. First, such an approach may give a harm to the nature of the time charter. The time charterer’s right to use the ship is only limited with commercial employment of the ship. Arrangement of the remote operation center and personnel by the charterer in one sense means that navigational management of the ship is also transferred to the charterer. This transfer has the potential to disrupt established concepts under time charter. For example, in a case where the charterer fails to pay the charter hire on time, if the conditions arise, the shipowner has the right to suspend the charter service and withdraw the ship from the service.Footnote 49 While the control of the operation center is in the hands of the time charterer through personnel appointed by the charterer, how can the shipowner exercise these rights? It will not be physically possible for the shipowner to perform these rights without the cooperation of the charterer. The charterer can continue to use the ship, disregarding the shipowner’s rights. Another example relates to the redelivery stage of the ship. It is well settled that under a time charter the charterer is obliged to redeliver the ship to the shipowner at the end of the charter duration (Coghlin et al. Reference Coghlin, Baker, Kenny, Kimball and Belknap2014, para. 4.30). However, where the control is in the hands of the charterer, although the shipowner does not want the ship to be delayed or redelivered early, the charterer can still send it to the most distant port by giving the orders to the personnel it has appointed, causing a late redelivery, or leave it earlier than the end of the duration. Thus, the arrangement of the center and personnel by the charterer might result in the charterer taking control of the ship in a manner that may conflict with the shipowner’s interests under the time charter. With regard to the arrangements with the center made by the charterer, although the charterer does not have the ship physically, since he controls the ship remotely or autonomously, he can still be treated as having possession of the ship, and this will conflict with the nature of the time charter.Footnote 50 Second, considering the value of autonomous ships, which is likely to be higher than that of conventional ships, no shipowner is likely to trust the charterer to the extent that arrangements as to the remote operation of the ship are made by the charterer.Footnote 51
Further, time charterers are mostly speculators who want to profit from the fluctuations in the charter market, or traders who need to transport their goods. Considering that the remote operation of ships and the selection of personnel for the center are areas that require more expertise than the management of traditional ships due to the high level of technology, they may have concerns about arranging for the remote operation center to take control of someone else’s ship. In addition, assuming responsibility as “owner” for any liabilities arising during the operation of the vessel might carry additional risk. Therefore, in the future, it is more likely that the charterer will prefer not to be involved in the remote operation arrangement.
For these reasons, it is most likely that the shipowner will make arrangements for the center and personnel for the operation of the autonomous ships. The shipowner can make these arrangements itself or it may contract with third-party shipping management companies.Footnote 52 The latter is likely preferable because if the shipowner becomes the employer of the center personnel, there may be problems if several ships owned by different people are operated from the same center. Whatever the preference, the autonomous ship is provided to the time charterer for a period of time with the remote operation center and personnel. In this case, the time charter will not take the form of a bareboat charter. The concept of time charter will continue to exist; the possession of the ship remains with the shipowner, but the definition needs to be broadened to indicate that the time charter is a contract to use the ship and “the arranged remote operation centers with personnel” for a specified period of time within the agreed trading limits. This outcome is based on the assumption that, under the time charter, the remote operation center and personnel are arranged by the shipowner or its appointed management company.
Following this model, the concept of time charter will continue to exist, but the relationship between shore-based personnel and the charterer, and between the shipowner and shore-based personnel, is added to the equation. It should be noted here that the charterparty agreement is operated under the freedom-of-contract principle. This means that contractual parties may freely decide the terms of their contract (Williams Reference Williams2013, 131). They are not subject to any mandatory rules unless the charter contains a clause paramount.Footnote 53 Therefore, where time charters are made for autonomous ships in the future, it might be necessary for the contractual parties to make certain amendments related to contractual terms and their obligations and rights. In addition, the terms referring to the crew and master in the forms must be reconsidered. The remainder of this chapter is dedicated to those issues, with particular reference to NYPE 2015 and English case law.
2.4 Analysis of Fundamental Rights and Obligations of Shipowners and Charterers under Time Charters for Autonomous Ships
2.4.1. The Shipowner’s Obligation to Provide a Ship That Complies with the Charter Description at the Time of Delivery
It is common to see a clause in time charters that describes features of the ship such as class, cargo capacity, nationality, speed, and bunker consumption. From the charterer’s point of view, this clause is probably one of the most important parts of the time charter, as the charterer agrees to pay a fixed rent for an unknown vessel for the entire period of the charter, based solely on the contractual description of the vessel. The shipowner’s obligation under the description clause is to provide a ship that conforms to the contractual description (Coghlin et al. Reference Coghlin, Baker, Kenny, Kimball and Belknap2014, para. I.33). Providing a ship that does not comply with the charter description is a breach of the charter, and the charterer is entitled to damages for the loss suffered, unless the charterparty contains a provision that excludes the shipowner’s liability for its failure (para. 3.18). If the description in the charter indicates condition status,Footnote 54 such as the ship’s class,Footnote 55 or an intermediate term status, such as the ship’s speed and bunker consumption (Coghlin et al. Reference Coghlin, Baker, Kenny, Kimball and Belknap2014, para. 3.77),Footnote 56 the shipowner’s failure to provide a ship that complies with the description can be considered a repudiatory breach, and the charterer has a right to terminate the charter. Under NYPE 2015, descriptions as to the ship are given in the preamble. In addition, the form contains Annex A (“Vessel Description”) – a detailed vessel questionnaire that forms part of the charterparty. There is also Clause 12, under which speed and bunker consumption are stipulated.Footnote 57 When time charters are made for autonomous ships, the descriptive information given about the ship in the form needs to be extended.
Autonomous shipping possesses distinctive features that will facilitate functions such as mooring, berthing, and cargo handling without the need for human assistance. The Yara Birkeland, a ship that is currently expected to perform these operations, serves as a tangible example of this emerging technological development.Footnote 58 From the charterer’s perspective, capabilities of the ship to perform these operations, especially cargo handling, might be important. Under Clause 8 of NYPE 2015, “charterers shall perform all cargo handling, including but not limited to loading, stowing, trimming, lashing, securing, dunnaging, unlashing, discharging, and tallying, at their risk and expense, under the supervision of the Master.” If the ship is capable of performing cargo-handling autonomously, this provision will be inapplicable. Since the charterer is not the one who has the right of ownership or possession of the chartered ship, it would not be reasonable to hold it liable for cargo-handling, which is performed by the ship under remote or autonomous operation without involvement of the charterer. In such a case, it will be more proper to impose this obligation on the shoulders of the shipowner. Thus, an autonomous ship’s cargo-handling capability requires a profound shift in terms of the liability. Therefore, if the autonomous ship has such a capability, the charterer will want to be aware of this information, so the description clause should be extended by making this information a part of the ship’s description.
It might also be important for the charterer to know the location of the remote operation center. Although the remote operation center and the ship are separate elements, without the center the ship will not have any meaning for the charterer. Therefore, the time charter is now a contract for the use of the ship with an associated remote operation center and personnel. This author suggests that information related to the capacity of potential remote operation centers arranged for the ship can be made a part of the ship’s description. For example, if the shipowner prefers an operation center that has limited capacity and only allows the ship to be used within the geographical limit of a particular region due to data transmission difficulties and if the shipowner does not have any intention to arrange another center that extends the employment area of the ship outside of the specified region, this information should be given as part of a description clause and/or under Clause 1(b) as part of the trading limits.Footnote 59 It is important that the charterer knows this beforehand, because the information is relevant to plan future employment. If its intention is to use the ship outside of the designated area, it might not enter into the charter agreement for that ship. There might also be some cases in which the shipowner changes the remote operation center during the period of charter. The reason behind this may be due to problems the shipowner encounters with the remote operation center or its closure. The shipowner should be careful about such a change. One of the implied obligations imposed on the shipowner under the time charter is that the shipowner will not, at any stage of the charter, make any alterations to the ship that may (or potentially will) affect the services to be provided.Footnote 60 Following this, if the remote operation center is changed during the charter period, the shipowner must arrange a center that has at least the same capabilities as the previous one. If we consider this in terms of the geographical area in which the operation center can provide the service, the center that limits the charterer’s area of operation compared to the previous center should not be chosen by the shipowner. Otherwise, this will be a breach of the shipowner’s implied obligation, and the charterer is entitled to damages. If it is proved that this alteration goes to the root of the contract, the charterer may also be entitled to terminate the charter.Footnote 61 Some information as to personnel in the remote operation center can also be important for the charterer to evaluate the seaworthiness of the autonomous ship. However, this information is more accurately considered under the clause dealing with the seaworthiness of the ship rather than under the description clause.
Under NYPE 2015, some changes might also be needed related to the description given to warranties for speed and bunker consumption (performance). These warranties are usually subject to weather conditions.Footnote 62 This means that the shipowner warrants that the ship will be able to achieve the described speed and bunker consumption only if good weather conditions exist. Good weather is commonly defined in time charters referring to the BeaufortFootnote 63 and Douglas scales.Footnote 64 For example, Clause 12(a) of NYPE 2015 refers to both scales to describe good weather as “wind up to and including Force four (4) as per the Beaufort Scale and sea state up to and including Sea State three (3) as per the Douglas Sea Scale.”Footnote 65 In a particular case where the time charterer asserts that the ship underperformed during the voyage, the burden of proof rests on the charterer. In order to clear this hurdle, the charterer needs to show that, although good weather conditions existed, the ship underperformed. To prove this, the chartering party normally relies on a report of the ship’s performance prepared by a weather routing company (WRC). Clause 12(b) of NYPE 2015, which states that “the Charterers shall have the option of using their preferred weather routing service,” provides an option to the charterer. It is made clear later, in Clause 12(d) of NYPE 2015, that the charterer can rely on this report to support its claim for underperformance. On the other hand, the ship’s logbook prepared by the master is preferred by the shipowner as a main source of evidence to rebut the chartering party’s underperformance claims in a particular case.Footnote 66 Since they are prepared by different parties, there are often inconsistencies between weather and sea conditions recorded in a WRC report and the ship’s logbook. Generally, the records maintained by the master in a logbook are given greater credence than those recorded in a WRC report. This perspective appears to be logical, given the master’s status as a trained weather observer recognized by the World Meteorological Organization. The master’s presence on board the vessel during the entire charter period, observing weather and sea conditions firsthand, further substantiates the credibility of these records (Harris Reference Harris2014, 4). This conventional view also supports the ship’s logbook by pointing out that the WRC report is prepared by using satellite imagery, which is just a snapshot of weather and sea conditions, and so that may not capture the local impact of weather and sea conditions, such as currents, on the ship’s performance (4). Furthermore, data for the preparation of the report is collected only once or twice a day (Alexander Reference Alexander2013). Where autonomous ships are used, the traditional view will lose its dominance because information in a ship’s logbook entriesFootnote 67 on the effect of sea and weather conditions on the ship’s performance will no longer be recorded by the master who is on board the ship but by a person in the remote operation center, or perhaps by AI using shipboard sensors. When autonomous ships are operated under time charter, there will be no difference between the ship’s remote operation center logbookFootnote 68 and the WRC report in terms of the way data is collected. Both will be done remotely, but the first will be more reliable as it will be collected by an advanced system of autonomous ships and during the actual voyage. There may even be no need for the charterer’s WRC arrangement. Autonomous ships will reduce the charterer’s main concern that the master may exaggerate the sea and wind conditions and make inaccurate logbook entries to the shipowner’s advantage. Even if the records are kept by personnel working at the center arranged by the shipowner, and there may be some contractual relationship between them and the shipowner or between them and a third-party manager arranged by the shipowner, the center personnel or its AI systems will make entries in the ship’s logbook based on data collected continuously from the ship. Therefore, even if the charterer has concerns about the records, it can easily request that their accuracy be validated by the shipboard sensors.
Following these explanations, it can be said that the description as to the capability of the autonomous ship to record the sea and weather conditions might also be made a part of the ship’s description under NYPE 2015, so that the charterer might not need to worry about the records and the WRC arrangement indicated under Clause 12(d). Further consideration might also be needed as to Clause 12(e) of NYPE 2015. The clause indicates that where the ship fails to perform as agreed in the charter, the parties may refer the dispute to “an independent expert or alternative weather service by mutual agreement.” These experts resolve disputes over underperformance claims arising from a discrepancy between the parties’ evidence. This clause might be changed for autonomous ships, to state that data collected through the ships will prevail.
2.4.2 The Shipowner’s Obligation to Provide a Seaworthy Ship
Under time charters, for the delivery of the ship to be valid and for the charter period to commence, it is important that the ship meets certain delivery requirements relating to delivery time, the place of delivery, and the condition of the ship, which are commonly set out in the charterparty. These requirements are deemed to be conditions precedent to delivery unless the terms of the contract provide otherwise. Therefore, if the ship does not comply with these requirements, the charterer may reject the ship (Coghlin et al. Reference Coghlin, Baker, Kenny, Kimball and Belknap2014, para. 8.3). In the context of the operation of autonomous ships, a consideration of the requirements stipulated in time charter forms indicates that those relating to the time and place of delivery may not require reevaluation. However, a more thorough analysis is necessary regarding the requirements concerning the ship’s condition.
Standard time charter forms contain terms that specify how the condition of the ship should be at the time of delivery.Footnote 69 Most of the forms require the ship to be seaworthy at the time of delivery.Footnote 70 The shipowner’s seaworthiness obligation under NYPE 2015 is defined in Clause 2(b):
The Vessel on delivery shall be seaworthy and in every way fit to be employed in the intended service, having water ballast and with sufficient power to operate all cargo handling gear simultaneously, and, with full complement of Master, officers and ratings who meet the Standards for Training, Certification and Watchkeeping for Seafarers (STCW) requirements for a vessel of her tonnage.
Even if the charter does not refer to any express seaworthiness requirement in this regard, this is implied by law.Footnote 71 The classic test for seaworthiness at common law is expressed by Scrutton L.J. as follows:
The ship must have that degree of fitness which an ordinary careful owner would require his vessel to have at the commencement of her voyage having regard to all the probable circumstances of it. Would a prudent owner have required that it should be made good before sending his ship to sea, had he known of it?Footnote 72
If this question is answered in the affirmative in a particular case, then it can be said that the ship is unseaworthy. The concept of seaworthiness, in relation to traditional ships, enters the analysis mainly under three groups: (1) physical defects of the ship and inadequate and insufficient equipment; (2) inadequacy and insufficiency of the crew; and (3) inadequacy of documentation.Footnote 73 The legal principles in this regard are well established, and a substantial body of literature has already been written on this topic (Coghlin et al. Reference Coghlin, Baker, Kenny, Kimball and Belknap2014, ch. 8; Girvin Reference Girvin2011, 383–399; Kassem Reference Kassem2006; Zhan and Zang Reference Zhan and Zhang2023). The shipowner’s obligation to provide a seaworthy ship will continue, but these three groups should be reinterpreted and subject to potential change for autonomous ships, considered below.Footnote 74
2.4.2.1 Physical Defects of the Ship and Inadequate and Insufficient Equipment
The traditional ship is a single object, the body, called a hull, which contains the machinery, the equipment, and the operation center that holds the crew members. Unlike traditional ships, autonomous ships are composed of two parts: a sea module and a land module. Although these two modules are separated physically, they have an operational and functional connection. Imagine that the sea part of the autonomous ship is working properly, collecting large-scale data through various sensors, cameras, and radar systems. However, there is a regular failure in the transmission of the collected data due to a communication problem related to the center. In such a case, the ship may not be able to operate unless it proceeds autonomously.Footnote 75 Defects in the operation center, such as those relating to the cyber risk management system, may also render the ship unseaworthy. Due to this distinctive feature of autonomous ships, two different concepts have been proposed as a new category of seaworthiness: “communication worthiness,” which is the ability of the center to maintain continuous connectivity and provide services remotely (Sözer Reference Sözer2024, 85, 88), and “cyberworthiness,” which gauges the efficiency and quality of measures taken against cyber-attacks (Sözer Reference Sözer, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 99–110). Time should tell whether these concepts will enter widespread use.
Furthermore, seaworthiness is a relative term.Footnote 76 The concept includes the type and age of the ship, the type of voyage planned, the nature of the cargo, and various other factors (Girvin Reference Girvin2017, 17; Kassem Reference Kassem2006, 25–26; Wilson Reference Wilson2010, 181). Therefore, depending on an autonomous ship’s navigational, technical, and operational characteristics, the standard expected from a particular operation center is dynamic and subject to change.
2.4.2.2 Inadequacy and Insufficiency of the Crew
Scholars accept that the inadequacy and insufficiency of the crew for seaworthiness evaluation should extend to personnel in the operation center (Baughen Reference Baughen, Soyer and Tettenborn2021; Stevens Reference Stevens, Soyer and Tettenborn2020, 148; Williams Reference Williams, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 226–227). This conclusion is sensible because of the strong functional and operational links between the ship and the operation center. If seaworthiness analysis were not extended to land-based personnel, the charterer’s right to use the ship might be harmed fundamentally, undermining the essence of the time charterer. Therefore, the duty to provide adequate and sufficient personnel for the operation center should be imposed on the shipowner as part of its seaworthiness obligation. The most challenging question is how personnel in the operation center are deemed to be adequate or sufficient.
Clause 2(b) of NYPE 2015, regarding the traditional ship, incorporates the International Convention on Standards of Training, Certification, and Watchkeeping for Seafarers (STCW)Footnote 77 as a benchmark to assess the crew’s situation. The applicability of STCW is regulated in Article III(1), which states that the Convention “shall apply to seafarers serving on board seagoing vessels entitled to fly the flag” of a State party. Following this wording, the application of the Convention directly to personnel in the center so as to evaluate their adequacy and sufficiency might not be possible due to the requirement of working on board and to the qualifications of seafarers (Eder Reference Eder2019, 55; Soyer Reference Soyer, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 171; Veal and Tsimplis Reference Veal and Tsimplis2017, 322). However, the absence of specific standards regarding personnel staffing an operation center should not be interpreted as indicating they lack appropriate qualifications. Although personnel will not be present on board, the general approach adopted is to hold their position akin to that of master and crew members.Footnote 78 The persons responsible for monitoring and operating the ship from the operation center should have certain qualifications. If these standards are not established, the capability of personnel working in each center will be different, with the result that the risks to which each ship is exposed during its voyage will vary according to the qualifications of the center’s personnel. This can even affect insurance. Determining the required qualifications and competences of personnel in the center may not be easy. First, although the deployment of these personnel will be from land and not from sea, it may still be possible to take into account some of the standards that should be met in relation to seafarers for these personnel. The STCW Appendix to Regulation II/2 contains regulations on the minimum knowledge required for the certification of the masters and chief mates of ships weighing 200 gross registered tons or more:
A master has ultimate responsibility for the safety of the ship, its passengers, crew and cargo, and that a chief mate shall be in a position to assume that responsibility at any time, examination in these subjects shall be designed to test their ability to assimilate all available information that affects the safety of the ship.
Since personnel working in the center will also be responsible for the safe navigation of the ship and its cargo, it will be appropriate to seek the qualifications and characteristics of the master and chief mate stated in this regulation for personnel working in the operation center, rather than associating them directly with the seafarers on board the ship. For example, the information that personnel in the center may need includes radar devices, meteorology and oceanography, ocean current systems, ship maneuvering and handling, and maritime law. One might think that when a ship with a fourth degree of autonomy is operating autonomously, these skills might not be needed because the ship is capable of performing all functions independently. But that assertation may not be entirely accurate. The ship may start its voyage under full autonomy, but, when it needs human support and remote control, personnel with these skills could have a significant effect.
In addition, the STCW is within the scope of Regulation II/2, the mandatory minimum requirements for being certified as master and first mate on ships weighing over 200 gross tons. Masters and chief mates of ships weighing 1,600 or more gross tons will be required to have an appropriate certificate. To obtain this certificate, each candidate must comply with the conditions set by the flag State administration in terms of health, especially vision and hearing. In addition, for certification as master, at least thirty-six months is needed; however, this period may be reduced to at least twenty-four months if at least twelve months of seagoing service has been performed as a chief mate or if the administration requires special training that is considered equivalent to this service. The health condition required under this regulation can be explained by the ability to fulfil the task effectively, and the condition of having served for a certain period of time before can be explained by the experience requirement of the work to be performed. At this point, similar conditions should also be required from personnel at the center, given the nature of the work to be performed by them.
Following this analysis, to some extent the qualifications required by the STCW can apply to personnel working in the center.Footnote 79 Two recent legal steps – the AUTOSHIPMAN formFootnote 80 and the UK Workboat Code Edition 3Footnote 81 – also show that qualifications expressed in the STCW will continue to be applicable. However, the pursuit of the qualifications in the STCW alone will not be sufficient for these personnel due to the distinguishing feature of remote operations. For example, although Clause 5(a) of AUTOSHIPMAN references the STCW, other qualifications also apply: “The Managers shall provide suitably qualified Crew who shall comply with the requirements of the Applicable Laws (including but not limited to the STCW).”Footnote 82 Such an approach is sensible because, while personnel in the center ensure the safe navigation of the ship, this navigation is carried out by systems with a high degree of autonomy. This specialized work has particular requirements (Choi and Lee Reference Choi and Lee2021, 461; Williams Reference Williams, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 227; Wright Reference Wright2020, 91).Footnote 83 For example, personnel receive training in software, communication technology, and special protocols regarding autonomous ship operation (Veal and Tsimplis Reference Veal and Tsimplis2017, 323). The existing regime regulating the training and certification standards for vessel traffic system personnel (IMO 1997) can be applied to training and certification standards for personnel working in the center (Amaxilati Reference Amaxilati, Soyer and Tettenborn2022, 120).
In conclusion, with regard to crew-related requirements set out in NYPE 2015, reference to the STCW is necessary but insufficient in terms of an autonomous ship’s operation. Additional requirements should be incorporated into the clause. The common position of the JWG regarding personnel capabilities is that training, certification, and competency requirements will be addressed under the MASS Code using the STCW requirement as a basis (IMO 2023b, 5).
2.4.2.3 Adequacy of Documentation
Documentation is the third focus for the seaworthiness analysis of autonomous ships. The governing law of the contract, the law of the flag, or the law of the port may legally require documentation (Girvin Reference Girvin2019, 450; Wilson Reference Wilson2010, 11). Documents relating to cargo, navigational charters, and documents required under the International Safety Management Code and the International Ship and Port Facility Security Code are included in seaworthiness analysis (Kassem Reference Kassem2006, 45). Where the autonomous ship has started to be used, especially for the carriage of goods internationally, documents related to safety management, emergency plans, and documents that show autonomous features of the ship might be required to test compliance of the ship with the relevant port features.
2.4.2.4 Timing for Seaworthiness Analysis
Is the wording in NYPE 2015 regarding the point in time considered for the seaworthiness analysis applicable to the operation of an autonomous ship under time charter? Unlike its predecessors, which required the ship to be in a seaworthy condition and ready to receive cargo at the time of delivery,Footnote 84 NYPE 2015 separates the shipowner’s obligation to deliver the ship in a seaworthy condition from its obligation to deliver the ship in a cargoworthy condition.Footnote 85 The reason for this change is that in practice the first port of loading is usually different from the place of delivery specified in the charterparty.Footnote 86 It seems unreasonable to expect the shipowner to provide a vessel capable of carrying cargo when there is no cargo at the place of delivery. Following this separation of the two obligations, Clause 2(c) of NYPE 2015 now gives the parties the right to choose the time at which the shipowner is obliged to provide a cargoworthy vessel. That time can be either at delivery or at the first port of loading, as agreed between the parties. Where time charters are made for an autonomous ship, the wording adopted in NYPE 2015 for cargoworthiness can remain. However, with regard to the analysis of the seaworthiness of an autonomous ship, the author suggests that restricting the shipowner’s obligation regarding seaworthiness to the time of delivery may not serve the purpose of the obligation and might significantly affect the charterer’s right to use the autonomous ship under the time charter. As explained at the beginning of this chapter, a change in the location of the remote operation center can be an issue during the voyage. If this becomes a regular practice, it might be preferable to provide the opportunity to test the seaworthiness of the ship each time it remotely connects to another remote operation center and to analyze each center following the three criteria set forth above as to seaworthiness. Otherwise, the shipowner may not demonstrate due diligence in choosing a new operation center. In addition, even if the operation center is not changed, a change of personnel working in the center may be an issue.Footnote 87 Change of a crew is not something that is regularly done during the voyage, as the ship is in the middle of the sea. However, personnel in the operation center may come and go at will. In this sense, autonomous ships are different from traditional ships. This difference might be considered as reasonable grounds for transforming the seaworthiness obligation to a continuous one. Although this approach is not adopted in most time charter forms and the obligation of the shipowner is heavily extended, such a change may be made in the future.
In the context of the operation of autonomous ships, analysis as to delivery requirements stipulated in NYPE 2015 shows that those relating to the time and place of delivery may not require reevaluation. However, a more thorough analysis is necessary with regard to the requirements concerning the condition of the ship – in other words, its seaworthiness.
2.4.3 The Shipowner’s and Master’s Obligation to Comply with the Charterer’s Orders
In the context of a time charter, the shipowner, in consideration of payment of hire, grants the charterer the right to exploit the ship’s earning capacityFootnote 88 and undertakes to provide a specified charter service. Consequently, the time charterer is entitled to provide instructions to the master about how the vessel is used. Almost all time charter forms contain a provision commonly referred to as an employment clause, which delineates the scope of the charterer’s authority to issue directives to the master concerning the employment of the ship.Footnote 89 For example, Clause 8(a) of NYPE 2015 provides: “The Master … (although appointed by the Owners) shall be under the orders and directions of the Charterers as regards employment and agency.” In the absence of an express stipulation in this regard, the obligation is implied because it is necessary to ensure that the contract efficiently works. It should be noted that the master is not obliged to comply with every single order given by the charterer. Under a time charter, the master is obliged to comply with the charterer’s instructions as to employment, but does not have such an obligation if the instructions affect the navigation or safety of the ship. This is a well-established principle of English jurisprudence.Footnote 90 The distinctions between employment and navigation are articulated by Lord Hobhouse in The “Hill Harmony” case: “‘Employment’ embraces the economic aspect – the exploitation of the earning potential of the vessel. ‘Navigation’ embraces matters of seamanship” (at 159). Since the charterer’s order regarding the selection of the ports of loading and discharge and orders relating to loading, carriage, and delivery of the cargo embrace an economic aspect, in an ordinary case these must be regarded as lawful employment orders (unless they affect the navigation or safety of the ship, cargo, or crew). Therefore, the master has a duty to follow these orders. Orders that affect the navigation and safety of the ship are left outside the charterer’s right to use, as these are “matters falling within the specialized professional maritime expertise of the master” (at 152).
When this obligation of the master is considered in relation to an autonomous ship, the first question is who (in the absence of any master on board the ship) will be responsible for analyzing whether the order given by the charterer has the status of an employment order that the master is obliged to follow, or affects the navigation and safety of the ship, which the master may disregard. This function can be performed by remote operators.Footnote 91 It has also been suggested that the word “master” in the abovementioned employment clause of NYPE 2015 should be replaced by “the owners and/or the person or persons operating the vessel” (Baughen Reference Baughen, Soyer and Tettenborn2021, 95). Considering that an autonomous ship is operated under a dynamic level of autonomy,Footnote 92 such an approach seems sensible. In a particular case, even if the ship is operated fully autonomously during service at the time of charter, when the order is given by the charterer, the level of autonomy can be reduced to remote operation. The controller can evaluate orders given in terms of safety and navigation and then decide how to proceed. In other words, here the remote operator has started to act in the capacity of the master in assessing the orders,Footnote 93 and the remote operator’s “professional maritime expertise” is brought into the assessment. In such a case, there might be no need for further analysis of this obligation, as the established rules relating to the master’s assessment of the employment orders may also apply to remote operators. For example, when the order is given, it is not expected that the master is obliged to comply with every order immediately. There may be some orders that require further consideration. In such cases, the master has the right to evaluate the order for a reasonable period of time.Footnote 94 For an autonomous ship, such time is also provided to the remote operator. Similarly, in terms of a traditional ship, if compliance with the order in question does not fall within the scope of the charter, such as the charterer’s last voyage order, causing delay, the master has the right to refuse to comply with it and to ask the charterer for a new order.Footnote 95 This can also be applied in a similar way to autonomous ships. In such cases, the remote operator can ask the charterer for a new order.
However, considering that the remote operator is expected to be responsible for the operation and monitoring of more than one ship, it might not be practical that the autonomy level during a particular voyage is reduced and then every single order of the charterer is evaluated by the remote operator. Therefore, it might be useful to leave some place for the independent decision-making ability of the ship under full autonomy. It will be evaluated below to what extent the autonomous ship may itself evaluate the charterer’s orders under three groups without human support.
The first group comprises employment orders, with which the master is under an obligation to comply. Unless it affects the safety and navigation of the ship, it is expected that the autonomous system also complies with these orders. It is unclear whether the system is capable of making such an assessment. At this point, it might be useful to mention how these systems are to be operated.
AI applications mimic human cognitive and decision-making processes, achieving navigation safety on par with, if not exceeding, vessels manned by humans. In doing so, human-induced risks may be eliminated altogether. AI systems do not merely execute preprogrammed instructions, although it is impossible to program a system to account for every potential problem and solution. Rather, these systems must be capable of adapting to dynamic conditions, much like the crew members they aim to replace, and be able to resolve unforeseen issues (Porathe et al. Reference Porathe, Home, Rødseth, Fjørtoft, Johnsen, Haugen, Barros, Gulijk, Kongsvik and Vinnem2018, 422). As such, it is highly probable that machine-learning methods will be predominantly employed in the management of these ships (Ringbom and Collin Reference Ringbom, Collin, Ringbom, Røsæg and Solvang2021, 10; Vartdal et al. Reference Vartdal, Skjong and St. Clair2018, 10). During machine-learning processes involving technology that enables computers to perform complex tasks by learning from examples, data, and experience (Royal Society 2017, 16), humans can play an active role, either by categorizing or labeling the data for the machine to analyze or, in a more limited capacity, by correcting the machine’s erroneous predictions or selections (Wright Reference Wright2020, 54–55).Footnote 96
In some cases, the ship itself may be capable of evaluating the employment status of the charterer’s order. For example, if the charterer’s order is to depart from the port at a certain time, as that time approaches, the ship itself can evaluate the order in terms of safety, using data on weather and sea conditions collected by the ship’s sensors. The system can then determine the most appropriate response to these conditions. Similarly, when the charterer orders the ship to slow steam or to proceed with full speed, the ship can evaluate whether it is required to comply or whether the order should be refused for safety or navigational reasons in accordance with the algorithm, engine capacity of the ship, and charterparty performance warranties. Recall, however, that time charters, by their very nature, rely on continuous adaptability to accommodate instructions from the charterer, and each order introduces potential unanticipated occurrences. Therefore, if the order given is the one that the ship itself cannot evaluate and make a decision about within its algorithm, human support might be needed. In such a case, the autonomy level can be reduced swiftly to remote operation, and the remote operator’s approval, or final decision, can proceed based on the charterer’s orders.
The second group comprises the orders that the master has a right to refuse. These are the orders that fall outside the scope of the agreed charter. If the effect of the employment order given by the charterers is to require the master to do something outside that scope of the agreed charter, the order requires the shipowner to provide services that it has not agreed to provide at the beginning. The master has a right to refuse this order. When the vessel is operated fully autonomously, it may be possible for the ship to evaluate these orders, taking into account the geographical and time restrictions of the charterparty. When the order is given, the autonomous system of the ship without any human support can consider algorithms related to agreed limitations and then refuse to comply with the order on the ground that it is outside the scope of the agreed charter terms. For example, if the last voyage order exceeds the agreed charter period given by the charterer, the system can calculate the length of the proposed voyage and then refuse it. Similarly, if the order causes the ship to proceed to a port outside the agreed geographical limits, the system can refuse to comply with the order. The system can correctly analyze the situation and refuse these orders on the ground that they are outside the scope of the charter. The master has a right to refuse the second group of orders. However, the master may also prefer to comply with this group of orders even though they exceed the limits of the charter. If an autonomous ship makes a decision that the shipowner does not like, a remote operator could come into an active position to overrule it.
Lastly, the master is under an obligation to refuse the third group of orders. These are orders that cause illegal and fraudulent acts (Williams Reference Williams2013, 148).Footnote 97 The common example relates to a bill of lading. For example, after the cargo has been loaded on board the ship, the charterer may ask the master to sign the date of the bill earlier than the actual date. Such an order is particularly likely to be given if the charterer has entered into a sales contract under which it, as the seller, is obliged to complete the loading of the cargo on the specified date. In order not to breach its obligation under the contract of sale, the terms insist that the master signs the bill of lading as an ante-date bill of lading. Similarly, the charterer may also order the master to sign the date of charter later than the actual date (that is, postdate the bill of lading). In some cases, the charterer might also order the master to record the goods as being in apparent good order and condition, although the goods are not in such a state.Footnote 98 Since the purpose of such orders by the charterer is to defraud the consignee, the master is obliged to refuse them. The master is also under an obligation to refuse the charterer’s order to deliver the cargo to a person who does not have a right to receive it, unless there is an express term to the contrary in this regard.Footnote 99
Following this information, the question is whether the autonomous system can evaluate this type of order. Even if the ship is eligible to perform loading and discharging operations autonomously, given that a paper bill of lading is still required, since there will be no crew on board the ship, the evaluation of these types of orders can only be possible if there is involvement of a shipowner’s land-based personnel. This is not something that can be done by the autonomous system or by the remote operator from another center. In terms of autonomous ship operations, if the electronic bill of lading is an issue, the author believes that land-based personnel support is still needed, but signing the bill of lading as ante or postdate can be prevented by the autonomous system.
Continuous reference to human oversight for routine operations would undermine the intended efficiency of autonomous systems. Even if the autonomous system has a role in the assessment of the charterer’s order, it cannot be fully delegated to technology. An autonomous ship should do what it can to the extent of its capabilities, but if it encounters unforeseen risks or conditions that fall outside the scope of its programming and machine-learning process, it becomes essential to rely on the approvals and decisions of remote operators as to the status of the charterer’s order. Following this, it is now clear that Clause 8(a), the employment clause, of NYPE 2015 should be redrafted and the obligation to comply with the charterer’s order should be imposed on “the owners and/or the person or persons operating the ship and/or the autonomous system itself.”
Where the time charterer’s orders have been assessed by the ship’s independent decision-making ability, in some cases legal issues may also arise as to the indemnity right of the shipowner. Indemnity is normally implied when the shipowner suffers loss or liability because of complying with the charterer’s orders, unless the shipowner has agreed in the charter to bear the loss, damage, or liability in question (Coghlin et al. Reference Coghlin, Baker, Kenny, Kimball and Belknap2014, para. 19.32), or unless the order in question is one that the master is under an obligation to refuse (para. 19.19). The principle of causation is integral to indemnity claims. For shipowners to recover under implied indemnities, there must be an unbroken chain of causation between the instructions of the charterers and the loss suffered.Footnote 100 The advent of autonomous systems seems to challenge this direct causation paradigm. For example, if an autonomous ship grounds at an ostensibly safe port, as in The “Erechthion” case,Footnote 101 causation might not be straightforward. Was the grounding due to defective programming, erroneous input data, the inherent unsafety of the port, or the charterer’s order? The court’s finding in The “Erechthion” – that the grounding was proximately caused by compliance with charterers’ orders – could be difficult to transpose onto autonomous scenarios. Moreover, The “Island Archon”Footnote 102 demonstrates that liability flows from charterers’ orders when risks are not contractually assumed by the owners. It was held by the Court of Appeal that an indemnity was to be implied, since the risk of incurring liability for dubious cargo claims was one that, under the charter, the owners had not agreed to bear. An analogous argument could arise with autonomous ships where programming errors exacerbate port risks. The legal system must address whether such errors constitute an extension of the charterers’ orders or an independent navigation failure.
2.4.4 The Charterer’s Obligation to Use the Ship between the Safe Ports
The advent of autonomous ships also plants a flag on a reevaluation of traditional principles, such as the safe port obligation. The charterer’s obligation to send ships only to ports that can accommodate them safely is one of the key aspects of a time charterparty. This obligation is expressly stipulated under standard charter forms.Footnote 103 Clause 1(b) of NYPE 2015 states: “The Vessel shall be employed in such lawful trades between safe ports and safe places within the following trading limits [text to be entered here] as the Charterers shall direct.” The existence of such a provision primarily requires the charterer to direct the ship to a prospectively safe port.Footnote 104 This kind of provision is also construed to mean that if the port becomes unsafe later due to a change of circumstances while the ship is still en route, the charterer then has a secondary obligation to cancel its previous order and provide a new, prospectively safe port for the vessel.Footnote 105 The reason behind imposing a secondary obligation on the charterer regarding unsafe ports is mainly to protect the shipowner and also the crew and any third-party interests.
The automation and digitization of ships and ports redefines what constitutes the well-established general principle of a “safe port” and, particularly, the meaning of “safety.” Therefore, the principle in question, rooted in protecting vessel integrity, requires recalibration to address the uniqueness posed by autonomous ships. The notion is intricately linked with the master’s responsibility to navigate the ship safely and the charterer’s obligation to nominate safe ports. This recalibration can be made through reference to the earlier decisions embodied in case law, as stated in The “Mary Lou”: points of law could arise that were not covered by the general principles, and it might then be helpful to consult earlier authorities, albeit that the conclusion of the court on such points of law should be consistent with those general principles.Footnote 106 The seminal definition of a safe port was articulated by Sellers L.J. in The “Eastern City”:
A port will not be safe unless, in the relevant period of time, the particular ship can reach it, use it and return from it without, in the absence of some abnormal occurrence, being exposed to danger which cannot be avoided by good navigation and seamanship.Footnote 107
The question of whether a port is safe for a particular vessel at a particular time is a subjective one, and the answer depends on the particular circumstances of each case. As English case law developed over time, various modalities emerged to define the concept. These include the identification of dangers as either temporary or persistent, the establishment of monitoring and reporting systems, the consideration of delays and inordinate duration, the evaluation of local warnings and departure systems, the adequacy of warning systems, the analysis of deficient berthing and mooring facilities, the evaluation of navigational aids, and the assessment of safety in departure. Considering these modalities, this analysis will first focus on the meaning of safe ports. Such an analysis is necessary to decide whether the charterer is in breach of its obligation to nominate a safe port under the time charter in the case of autonomous ships. The charterer’s duty to nominate a safe port must extend beyond mere physical hazards to encompass the burgeoning risks associated with cybersecurity. In this regard, digital resilience is an integral component of the “safe port” doctrine (Shazi Reference Shazi2024, 3, 14).
2.4.4.1 The Meaning of Safety in the Light of Modalities
Types of Dangers.
Temporary dangers described in English case law are those that arise sporadically or unpredictably and that do not inherently define the port’s characteristics. Temporary dangers for autonomous ships may include weather events, systemic failures in AI navigation due to disrupted satellite signals, and unplanned latency in V2X (Vehicle-to-Everything) communication. Regarding the impact of temporary dangers on the concept of safe port, it is submitted that purely temporary dangers will not make a port unsafe. But temporary dangers may be an important element in a lack of safety, particularly if the existence of the danger is not known to the master of the ship.Footnote 108 We may infer that the temporary danger might also make the port unsafe in some circumstances.
Temporary risks, manageable through navigation, do not render a port unsafe. As Teare J. noted in The “Ocean Victory”: “The measure of safety is not what is ‘reasonable’ but whether any dangers in a port can be avoided by good navigation and seamanship.”Footnote 109 The legal principles articulated in cases such as The “Evia” (No. 2) emphasize that charterers are not liable for a lack of safety arising from “unexpected and abnormal events” that are transient in nature. Lord Roskill clarified this principle:
If those characteristics are such as to make that port or place prospectively safe in this way, I cannot think that in spite of them, some unexpected and abnormal event thereafter suddenly occurs, which creates conditions of unsafety where conditions of safety have previously existed and as a result the ship is delayed, damaged or destroyed, that contractual promise extends to making the Charterer liable for any resulting loss or damage, physical or financial.Footnote 110
Following this, if the temporary danger in the port might be accounted as an unexpected and abnormal event, the charterer might escape liability. Yet temporary dangers like weather events could be handled by real-time adjustments in the ship’s course or speed, if it is assumed that the system is equipped to respond. In addition, temporary dangers might be set aside, requiring advanced systems capable of real-time data processing for autonomous ships. These ships must rely on continuous environmental monitoring and data analytics to mitigate short-term hazards, such as adverse weather or sudden navigational obstructions, that may otherwise jeopardize port safety.
Persistent dangers, such as silting, may render a port inherently unsafe. In contrast to temporary dangers, persistent threats are integral to the port’s nature. For autonomous ships, structural issues with the port or a consistent failure in port systems can be considered as persistent dangers. In The “Houston City,” the absence of hauling-off buoys and a missing fender, both long-standing deficiencies, rendered the port inherently unsafe.Footnote 111 Such deficiencies are recognized as fundamental breaches of the charterer’s obligations. Sellers L.J., in The “Stork,” affirmed that it is not enough that a danger merely exists: the danger must be of such a nature that it constitutes a characteristic of the port that renders it unsafe.Footnote 112 For autonomous ships, addressing persistent dangers entails integrating these known risks into the programming of navigation and decision systems. The importance of standardized digital infrastructures in ports, including cybersecurity protocols and the consistent maintenance of physical and digital systems, is needed to ensure that these dangers do not compromise vessel safety. Thus, the liability implications of algorithmic errors versus port deficiencies remain a contentious area. Persistent cyber vulnerabilities, for example, could be likened to the physical deficiencies in The “Houston City” if they are endemic to the port’s infrastructure and might require that the port in question is accepted as an unsafe port.
Proper Systems for Monitoring and Reporting.
Ports must integrate predictive technology and redundancies to handle autonomous ships, ensuring that temporary dangers (such as a loss of network coverage) are managed. The absence of AI-compatible safety systems may render a port unsafe, even if traditional dangers (such as weather) are manageable. Modern jurisprudence increasingly emphasizes port systems and information dissemination over inherent physical risks: the focus of unsafe port arbitrations is very often about the systems in place for dealing with known physical risks, as much as or more than physical risks.Footnote 113 For example, in The “Marinicki,”Footnote 114 a lack of proper systems for monitoring channel safety and reporting hazards rendered the port unsafe, even if the obstruction itself was temporary or minor. It is unclear whether autonomous ships can integrate real-time data and rely on existing port information systems, or whether ports must develop new systems that cater to their specific needs. Failure to provide this could make a port unsafe for autonomous ships under the standard set forth in The “Marinicki.” Given this logic, ports are required to adopt cybersecurity measures that are certified in accordance with ISO standards to safeguard autonomous ships from external threats.
Delays.
Delays at ports can transform a prospectively safe port into an unsafe one, particularly when the delay exposes the ship to additional risks. The “Lucille”Footnote 115 reflects the proposition that a port prospectively safe at the time of nomination can become unsafe due to congestion or other factors. This is exacerbated for autonomous ships, as they depend on digital optimization and predictive scheduling, leaving them particularly vulnerable to unforeseen delays. For example, without dynamic adjustment to traffic flows or access to real-time data on congestion, autonomous systems may fail to adequately reposition vessels to mitigate risks. Ports accommodating autonomous ships should have AI-integrated scheduling systems that minimize delays and offer automated contingency plans. The absence of such capabilities might render a port retrospectively unsafe, as autonomous ships lack the onboard human discretion to compensate for failures of external systems. However, the involvement of a remote operator might set aside potentially unsafe situations. Autonomous ships may also face difficulties in handling delays caused by unforeseen circumstances, such as cyberattacks, temporary infrastructure failures, or weather disruptions. The ability of an autonomous ship to respond to such delays may be affected by the sophistication of its navigational algorithms and the availability of alternatives for diversion. If delays lead to frustration of the voyage or inordinate duration, the port might be deemed unsafe.
Local Warnings and Departure Systems.
The court in The “Dagmar”Footnote 116 emphasized the necessity of local warning systems to ensure that ships receive adequate notice to depart during adverse weather. This principle applies even more stringently to autonomous ships if they rely entirely on digital inputs and preset programming for decision-making. Local warning systems should interface with the vessel’s autonomous operating system to trigger immediate adjustments in course or initiate departure sequences. The “Khian Sea”Footnote 117 demonstrates the need for ports to provide systems to ensure that vessels can depart promptly in emergencies. For autonomous ships, these systems should include automated departure protocols that integrate weather forecasts, traffic conditions, and berthing clearances into vessel operating systems. A port failing to provide digitally integrated warnings and departure mechanisms tailored for autonomous ships likely would breach its safe port obligation.
Adequacy of Warning Systems.
The adequacy of warning systems directly relates to whether a port can mitigate risks prospectively. The “Ocean Victory” stressed the importance of a systematic approach where warnings must be part of a broader infrastructure capable of addressing the risks associated with navigation and berth safety. For autonomous ships, the adequacy test extends beyond traditional systems (such as weather alerts and meteorological data) to encompass cybersecurity protocols. Autonomous systems are vulnerable to cyberattacks that could distort critical warning data or disable the ship’s response mechanisms. For instance, a port’s warning system for autonomous ships should be capable of verifying the authenticity and accuracy of incoming data to prevent tampering. Systems such as blockchain-enabled communications and secure V2X protocols have emerged as benchmarks for adequacy. A failure to provide these safeguards would compromise the safe port doctrine, as autonomous ships are entirely dependent on reliable digital inputs.
Deficient Berthing and Mooring Facilities.
A port may be deemed unsafe if the mooring or berthing facilities are inadequate. The impact of deficient facilities for mooring or berthing, which are prerequisites for autonomous ships, may constitute unsafe conditions if they cannot accommodate the specific operational parameters of autonomous ships, such as automated docking systems. For example, in The “Houston City,” the ship was damaged in a northerly gale due to the absence of a hauling-off buoy and a section of fender. It was held that Geraldton was unsafe for the ship because of these deficiencies. The case demonstrates that even temporary or localized inadequacies in infrastructure, such as missing buoys or fenders, create foreseeable risks that can render a port unsafe. This principle translates to the autonomous shipping context by necessitating a reevaluation of infrastructure compatibility. Autonomous ships require berths equipped with automated docking systems, such as dynamic positioning fenders, automated mooring arms, and AI-driven berth allocation systems. The absence of facilities designed for autonomous operations, such as robotic line handlers or AI-guided fender positioning, may directly impact the vessel’s ability to safely berth or unberth. Ports failing to provide these modernized systems could be deemed unsafe, particularly where the deficiencies foreseeably impair the vessel’s autonomous systems, resulting in physical damage or delays.
Navigational Aids.
Navigational aids are critical to a port’s safety and were addressed in The “Saga Cob,” which emphasized the role of navigational aids in neutralizing hazards such as properly lighted channels.Footnote 118 For autonomous ships, this requirement should extend to digital navigational aids such as real-time hydrographic updates, geofencing capabilities, and high-accuracy GPS. The failure to provide such aids would disproportionately affect autonomous ships that rely on machine-readable inputs. The “Sussex Oak”Footnote 119 noted that risks beyond the port’s control, such as the presence of sea ice, require navigational aids to mitigate the ship’s exposure. A port’s failure to provide accurate digital aids, such as unreliable hydrographic surveys or poorly maintained electronic charts, may expose autonomous ships to navigation errors. These vulnerabilities can be mitigated by remote monitoring and operation, but the availability of robust navigational aids can still be considered essential to meeting the safe port standard. For example, ports utilizing augmented reality overlays for channel navigation have set new benchmarks, demanding that autonomous ships receive real-time guidance tailored to their specific draught and size. It is thought that the absence of these systems compromises the navigational safety of autonomous ships, particularly in ports with dynamic environmental conditions, such as siltation or shifting currents.
Cybersecurity Risks.
Even if the adequacy of port safety is provided through equipment and infrastructure, political and physical risks may also be present. For example, The “Evaggelos Th.”Footnote 120 draws attention to political risks, such as confiscation or war, while The “Saga Cob” emphasizes that political threats must be an inherent characteristic of the port. In that regard, autonomous ships may introduce new threats to political safety, including State interference in digital systems (such as forced shutdowns and GPS spoofing) and risks tied to AI export controls and proprietary software regulations. Ports in politically volatile regions must demonstrate technological sovereignty and robust cybersecurity protocols to be deemed safe for autonomous ships. As per The “Chemical Venture,” charterers must exercise due diligence to assess political and physical safety.Footnote 121 In doing so, reasonable care includes evaluating the apparent degree of danger.Footnote 122 For autonomous ships, it can be said that due diligence requires assessing port compatibility with autonomous systems and cybersecurity certifications of the port. Failure to evaluate these risks can be considered a breach of due diligence obligations.
2.4.4.2 The Charterer’s Defenses to Avoid Liability
The safe port obligation also allocates liability for losses resulting from an unsafe port to the charterer who nominates it.Footnote 123 However, as can be inferred from the definition of a safe port in The “Eastern City” case, the charterer can escape liability if the danger is avoidable by ordinary good navigation and seamanship, or if there is an abnormal event. At this point, it is important to look at how these two exceptions will be interpreted in terms of autonomous ship operations.
Abnormal Occurrences.
Abnormal occurrences (such as rare storms or collisions caused by third-party negligence) are those that do not render a port unsafe unless inherent in the port’s characteristics.Footnote 124 In the author’s view, for autonomous ships, cyberattacks or failures in digital traffic management are no longer “abnormal” but are predictable risks in technologically dependent ports. Abnormal occurrences, such as sudden algorithmic failures or external interference, must be anticipated in port risk assessments (Wróbel et al. Reference Wróbel, Montewka and Kujala2017, 159, 166). Ports that fail to provide adequate risk mitigation protocols should not be considered safe. Autonomous ships require ports to ensure resilience against digital anomalies and redundancy in communication protocols. The traditional doctrine of “abnormal occurrences” should exclude cyber-related failures that may be anticipated. A port prone to frequent cyber threats would be inherently unsafe for an autonomous ship.
Good Navigation and Seamanship.
It is also important to note that a port is only considered unsafe if the risk in question cannot be avoided by the exercise of good seamanship and navigation. This implies that the shipowner and the master of a ship cannot exonerate themselves from their responsibility to mitigate the consequences of risks that, with reasonable diligence, they could have circumvented (Coghlin et al. Reference Coghlin, Baker, Kenny, Kimball and Belknap2014, para. 10.46). In the event of loss occurring in such circumstances, the liability shall not fall upon the charterer.
In The “Polyglory,” the test for safety rests on whether an ordinary prudent and skillful master can reasonably overcome the risks.Footnote 125 Yet, the paradigm shift introduced by autonomous ships necessitates a reevaluation of this doctrine. Autonomous systems, equipped with algorithm-driven navigation, now assume the role traditionally entrusted to the master. However, these systems cannot, in isolation, encompass the discretionary prudence that lies at the heart of good seamanship. Where dangers arise that extend beyond the predictive capabilities of an autonomous system – such as an unforeseen port hazard, digital anomaly, or operational complexity – the role of a remote operator must be considered. This hybrid model (a dynamic level of automation) recognizes that the principle of good seamanship in autonomous navigation cannot be reduced solely to AI performance. Instead, it is augmented by the oversight of a remote operator, whose intervention replicates – to the extent practicable – the judgment of a prudent and skillful master.
Autonomous ships are designed to perform navigational tasks with precision, but their programming can be inherently limited to programmed scenarios. For example, if a port experiences sudden cyber disruptions or physical hazards, the remote operator’s ability to intervene and reassess the situation ensures that the ship’s actions adhere to the principles of good seamanship. As noted in The “Ocean Victory,” “safety is not absolute, but the measure of safety is whether any dangers in a port can be avoided by good navigation and seamanship” (para. 100). This principle now applies equally to the collaborative functioning of AI systems and remote operators, so that all risks – whether physical or digital – are managed with prudence and skill. The fundamental inquiry remains, as articulated in The “Ocean Victory,” whether any dangers in a port can be avoided by good navigation and seamanship. For autonomous ships, it can be said that this inquiry incorporates two critical components: (1) AI’s operational capacity, which is the primary executor of good seamanship in routine navigation – that is, whether the autonomous system, operating as programmed, can navigate safely within the anticipated parameters of port conditions; and (2) remote operator intervention, which acts as the secondary layer of decision-making, stepping in when the vessel’s AI systems encounter risks outside its programmed parameters. To this end, as an adjunct to the vessel’s navigation, the remote operator does not supplant the AI but ensures that its actions are aligned with maritime principles when faced with unforeseen events. A failure to recognize this dual structure would be to ignore the realities of modern navigation and, indeed, to leave the vessel bereft of the discretionary judgment required under the doctrine of good seamanship.
2.4.4.3 Suggestions for the Application of the Safe Port Doctrine for Autonomous Ships
The available modalities for interpreting the “safe port” principle and the charterer’s defense to avoid liability are interpreted above in the context of autonomous shipping. Since the safe port doctrine is mainly developed by case law, and the obligation of the charterer to use the ship only between safe ports is included in NYPE 2015 with the words “The Vessel shall be employed … between safe ports and safe places,” this author does not propose any changes to the text. This wording is also applicable in terms of autonomous ships. However, in NYPE 2015, an autonomous ship can specifically be recognized, so the language should be amended to account explicitly for the safety requirements of technologically advanced vessels. For example, “safe port” should be redefined to include compatibility with autonomous ship infrastructure, such as sensor networks, automated berthing systems, and robust cybersecurity measures. More importantly, the meaning of safety and exceptions in the context of autonomous ships should be reinterpreted by case law. Globally recognized standards for smart port technologies should be adopted, ensuring consistency and reliability across international ports.
2.4.5 The Charterer’s Obligation to Payment of Hire-Off Hire
The payment of hire by the charterer in consideration of the use of the ship is another obligation for consideration in relation to the autonomous ship. This obligation is expressly stipulated under Clause 17 of NYPE 2015. In the case of autonomous ships operating under time charter, it is important to acknowledge that the charterer’s obligation remains unchanged. The expectation is that the remote operation services are arranged by the shipowner. In most cases, these services will be provided by third-party shipping management companies upon agreement with the shipowner, rather than the shipowner setting up its own center. Since the time charterer will be outside the contractual relationship between the shipowner and the center, the charterer should not be exposed to any further obligation as to payment made in consideration of remote and autonomous operation of the ship. This responsibility should remain with the shipowner. The author suggests that, in the context of autonomous ships engaged in time charter operations, the discussion surrounding payment of hire is likely to be predominantly focused on the concept of off-hire. An off-hire clause is a common feature of time charters.Footnote 126 While the exact wording of these clauses varies among charters, it serves to release the charterer from its obligation to pay the hire for a period during which the ship cannot be used due to circumstances beyond its control.Footnote 127 Clause 17 of NYPE 2015 contains two main parts. The latter part of the clause addresses the issue of loss of time resulting from a decrease in the ship’s speed. This constitutes an alternative avenue for loss recovery for the charterer in cases of underperformance of the ship.Footnote 128 The section requiring further consideration in terms of an autonomous ship is the initial part of the clause, which refers to particular events:
In the event of loss of time from deficiency and/or default and/or strike of officers or ratings, or deficiency of stores, fire, breakdown of, or damage to hull, machinery or equipment, grounding, detention by the arrest of the Vessel, … or detention by Port State control or other competent, authority for Vessel deficiencies, or detention by average accidents to the Vessel or cargo, unless resulting from inherent vice, quality or defect of the cargo, drydocking for the purpose of examination, cleaning and/or painting of underwater parts and/or repair, or by any other similar cause preventing the full working of the vessel, payment of hire and overtime, if any, shall cease for the time thereby lost.
There are two potentially problematic issues surrounding the off-hire clause in NYPE 2015 regarding autonomous ships in time charters. The first is the impact of the text “preventing the full working of the ship.” Although the clause quoted above is silent as to whether the charterparty must be completely interrupted or whether the partial loss of the service provided in a particular case is sufficient to accept that the full operation of the vessel is prevented, the NYPE off-hire clause is a net loss of time clause.Footnote 129 Therefore, a partial loss of the charterparty service is also accepted as sufficient for the charterer to benefit from the off-hire clause. Following this, if an autonomous ship operation is prevented partially, for example, it can still be said that the charterer benefits from the off-hire clause.
The second problematic issue is related to events that trigger the off-hire clause. It is accepted that the vessel will be off-hired if these specified events prevent the full operation of the ship. Some of the italicized text identifies events that may still have a role in terms of autonomous ship operations. For example, issues pertaining to the radar system or sensor of the autonomous ship can be interpreted under the “machinery or equipment” group. Although the first part of the events responds, to some extent, to the need for autonomous ship operations, the problems that may arise in relation to the remote operation center, such as a physical deficiency of the center preventing the full operation of the ship, do not fall under any of the events listed. This is normal because autonomous ship operations were not considered when the clause was drafted. It is also important to explore whether at least the second part of the events expressed in the clause under the wording of “by any other similar cause” prevent the full working of the vessel and its lash-up to the operation center.
At first sight, the text appears to cover all types of events that prevent the full operation of the vessel. It may be suggested that all types of events that occur during the operation of an autonomous ship and prevent the full working of the ship could fall under this group. Following this, during the operation of an autonomous ship, if there are any problems related to the remote operation center or personnel in the center, the charterer could benefit from the off-hire provision under this category. However, due to the existence of the word “similar,” the text must be regarded as referring to the same types of causes as those previously mentioned in Clause 17.Footnote 130 The term therefore will only apply to other similar causes listed in the first part of the clause. When the events listed in the first part above are considered in terms of autonomous ship operations, none of them appear related to events that might arise at a remote operation center. Therefore, it is difficult to include the loss of time in relation to the operation center and personnel in the center in the “any other similar cause” wording. If the word “whatsoever” is inserted and the wording in the NYPE 2015 off-hire clause is redrafted as “any other cause whatsoever,” there will be no need for the causes to be the same as those in the list to trigger the off-hire clause.Footnote 131 This approach underscores the dispositive effect of the word “whatsoever.”Footnote 132 In such cases, problems relating to remote operation centers or personnel at the centers can fall within the second part of the events and the charterer can gain the benefit of the off-hire clause. However, inclusion of the phrase “whatsoever” will widen the scope of the off-hire clause considerably, so it will be challenging to convince the shipowner to accept this new text. Instead, the easier solution would be that, considering the nature of autonomous ship operation, the list of events given in the initial part of the clause is expanded to include new events sui generis to the remote operation center, such as a breakdown of the connection system, software issues, and data transmission problems. It should be noted that although these problems arise, in some cases this might not prevent the full operation of the ship and loss of time may not arise. For example, if the ship is operated remotely and its control and operation are lost due to a failure in data transmission, and the ship’s autonomous operation feature comes into play (as a result of the dynamic autonomy of the ship) and the ship is still able to operate on its own, there will be no loss of time, so there will be no off-hire period. In addition, it is possible that the service provided in the operation center is disturbed due to fire, flood, earthquake, or other natural events, so that the full working of the ship is prevented. Such events might also be incorporated into the clause. As given above, the off-hire clause also refers to particular events related to the crew – such as deficiency, default, or labor strike – and those types of events might also arise at the center. Such a situation is, of course, more manageable than at sea, but might still cause loss of time for the charterer. Therefore, a deficiency, default, or labor strike of personnel in the center should be included in the clause.Footnote 133
Given that the occurrence of some types of events, such as communications or software problems, may regularly disturb the operations of autonomous ships, the incorporation into the clause of a provision for de minimis events is sensible. Such a provision makes the activation of an off-hire clause conditional on the minimum period required by the clause to have been lost due to events specified in the clause.Footnote 134 For example, according to the de minimis provision in BPTime 3, the ship is not considered to be off-hire in a case in which the loss of time is less than three hours in any calendar month. Under that clause, the charterer is deemed to have calculated the time lost due to an off-hire event incorrectly if it takes into account a loss of time less than three hours. The addition of such a provision in NYPE 2015 could prevent the expected but common problems related to software and connection problems from causing legal issues between the parties if they occur for only a short period of time.
2.5 Conclusion
The integration of AI into the maritime shipping sector is advancing rapidly. While autonomous vehicle technology is nearing practical implementation on roads, with automotive manufacturers worldwide competing for dominance, similar developments are occurring in the maritime domain both domestically and internationally. Autonomous ships play a critical role in military missions, hydrographic surveys, and oil exploration. The shipping sector of the carriage of goods by sea has also started to benefit from autonomous ships, but this benefit is currently limited to domestic carriage. Moving AI into international seagoing vessels is challenging due to the lack of an international framework. Developing an AI regime for international shipping will be possible only after the MASS Code has been completed. However, the adoption of the Code may not be sufficient to enable autonomous ships to trade globally. Standard maritime contracts, such as charterparties and management contracts, should also be ready for this type of carriage. The latter are now in place, with the AUTOSHIPMAN form recently released by BIMCO. However, no steps have been taken to integrate autonomous shipping in the law governing charterparties. This chapter offered elements for a regime for time charters.
The analysis shows that the wording of NYPE 2015 is not flexible enough to accommodate the concept of autonomous shipping with regard to the fundamental obligations of the shipowner and charterer under time charters. These terms need to be reconsidered and the clauses dealing with these obligations under NYPE 2015 should be redrafted. Regarding the shipowner’s obligation to provide a ship that complies with the charter description, it can simply be said that it is necessary to add new elements as part of the ship’s description. The shipowner’s obligation to provide a seaworthy ship should be reevaluated considering issues as to the remote operation center and personnel at the center so that the time charterer uses the ship efficiently during the period of charters. Time charters, by their very nature, rely on continuous adaptability to accommodate instructions from the charterer. Analysis of the shipowner’s obligation to comply with the charterer’s order shows that the assessment of the status of the charterer’s orders, whether they are employment orders or not, by an AI system might not always be an issue. The remote operator is likely to be involved in the assessment process in some cases. This shows the importance of a dynamic autonomy level in ship operations, especially under time charters. With regard to the charterer’s obligation to use the ship only between safe ports, it is imperative to reevaluate the concept of a safe port within the context of case law, taking into account features of the autonomous ships and their operational capabilities. Finally, the off-hire clause of NYPE 2015 needs to be redrafted to cover events relating to the remote operation center and personnel employed there, as these may cause the charterer to lose some level of service during the charter period. Although there is no separate analysis in this chapter regarding the wording of master and crew used in NYPE 2015, it can simply be said that this language should be replaced with the words “shipowner, remote operator, or personnel at the center,” and the form should include a definition of what the remote operator and remote personnel mean in the context of the form.
3.1 Introduction
Artificial intelligence (AI) is a branch of computer science focused on creating intelligent systems capable of performing tasks typically requiring human intelligence, such as reasoning, learning, problem-solving, visual perception, and language processing (Glover Reference Glover2024). Unlike traditional data-processing methods, which tend to be less analysis-oriented, AI systems learn from data. The more data AI systems collect, the better they learn and perform tasks as humans do (Obschonka and Audretsch Reference Obschonka and Audretsch2020). AI is recognized as an intelligent system capable of processing vast quantities of data known as big data and extracting relevant information from it. Big data and AI complement each other. This involves extensive sources of both structured and unstructured data from various origins, including sensors, social media, and transactions, and making sense of them. AI technologies employ machine learning, neural networks, and deep learning to identify patterns within big data, predict outcomes, and generate new knowledge. AI can undertake complex tasks that would otherwise require human effort, such as making decisions in uncertain situations, learning from experience to improve performance, and generating new data, as seen with generative AI models (Liu Reference Liu2021).
The maritime industry, which is the backbone of global trade and the economy, is making tremendous efforts to adopt AI to enhance efficiency and safety and to fuel optimization, predictive maintenance, voyage optimization, and energy management (Durlik et al. Reference Durlik, Miller, Kostecka and Tuński2024). Big data analytics platforms process vast amounts of ship performance and navigation data to support decision-making, ranging from logistics optimization to energy efficiency and safety improvements (Munim et al. Reference Munim, Dushenko, Raaness, Westerberg and Hossain2023). A study by Zhang and Martinez indicates that approximately 35 percent of newly built merchant ships currently utilize AI-powered navigational systems (Zhang and Martinez Reference Zhang and Martinez2023). The most notable applications in this area are automated identification systems supported by machine-learning capabilities, which allow for improved tracking and collision avoidance. These systems utilize inputs from various sources, such as radar, weather forecasts, and satellite imagery, to enhance the predictive accuracy of potential navigational hazards. Nevertheless, they still operate under human oversight rather than as fully autonomous solutions (Johannsen et al. Reference Johannsen, Smith and Rodriguez2024).
This technological advancement is expected to significantly impact the maritime workforce, including seafarers and shore-based personnel. Conventional skills may need to evolve alongside emerging technological competencies, demanding a paradigm shift in maritime education and training. Research conducted by the World Maritime University in 2023 revealed changes in seafarers’ task performance, including the introduction of new roles and responsibilities, modifications to existing activities, adaptation to managing emerging technologies, and the need for diverse new vocational skills and knowledge (WMU 2023). A notable example is the evolution of navigational aids on a ship’s bridge. The study highlighted the transitions occurring across various maritime professions. This transition is not limited to navigation but also extends to engineering and maintenance operations. AI-based technology is increasingly being used to redefine, predict, and optimize ship maintenance, helping to reduce corrective maintenance costs (Gupta Reference Gupta2024). However, this transformation may require engineers to develop new skills in data analysis and the management of systems that generate and process large volumes of data (WMU 2023).
The maritime industry has sought to address various disruptive changes while highlighting the emerging issues facing the maritime workforce. The International Maritime Organization (IMO) published an e-navigation strategy to facilitate the use of digital tools on board, as detailed in MSC 85/26 (IMO 2008). The circular outlines a vision for the future of navigation systems and vessel traffic information, aiming to establish harmonized data and communication frameworks to mitigate the increasing challenges associated with the safe and efficient operation of ships. In this context, the IMO conducted a scoping exercise for Maritime Autonomous Surface Ships (MASS) from 2017 to 2021 to assess the impacts of rising levels of automation on safety, security, and the environment, completing the e-navigation plan.
From the perspective of technology developers, integrating digitalization, information, and communication technologies, including AI, into the maritime industry and onboard ships is a high priority for enhancing safety and operational efficiency. Research reveals that while these advancements offer numerous benefits, they have also introduced various challenges, such as technostress and mental health concerns among seafarers (Lagdami Reference Lagdami, Ahram and Karwowski2024). Moreover, digitalization and ICT depend on reliable connectivity, which increases the risk of cyberattacks. Therefore, such advancements can sometimes be counterproductive and ineffective. As a result, the impact of these emerging technologies on growth and employment is more complex than traditionally perceived and heavily depends on the institutional and policy context (Aghion et al. Reference Aghion, Antonin and Bunel2019).
With the advancement of autonomous ships, scholars hold differing opinions on the future role of seafarers. Some seem to support the idea that automation may reshape rather than reduce employment opportunities (Fonseca et al. Reference Fonseca, Lagdami and Schröder-Hinrichs2021), while others argue that the AI-driven revolution will not necessarily threaten jobs but is likely to lead to a more skilled workforce (Aghion et al. Reference Aghion, Antonin and Bunel2019). This latter perspective is backed by studies such as the one conducted by the Hamburg School of Business Administration (HSBA) for the International Chamber of Shipping, focusing on seafarers and digital disruption. That study indicates that the advent of autonomous ships would redefine rather than eliminate seafarers’ roles, increasing the demand for skilled professionals, particularly marine officers, over the next twenty years. While crew size may adapt due to technological advancements on board, the maritime industry may also see significant additional shore-based job opportunities that require maritime expertise (HSBA 2018).
The preceding discussion highlights the apparent advantages perceived by all regarding the integration of AI in the maritime sector. However, a critical yet often overlooked aspect is the utilization of big data and algorithms associated with AI systems onboard ships, particularly concerning the surveillance and control responsibilities assigned to seafarers. Therefore, this chapter primarily examines the application of AI in the maritime sector and its potential impact on seafarers, given the currently limited use of AI on ships. It also analyzes the legal dimensions and their ramifications for the maritime sector, focusing specifically on the Maritime Labour Convention (MLC)Footnote 1 and other legal instruments regulating maritime labor, such as the International Convention on Standards of Training, Certification, and Watchkeeping for Seafarers (STCW).Footnote 2
3.2 AI Applications in the Maritime Industry and the Implications for Seafarers
The application of AI in maritime operations has accelerated significantly since early 2020. The maritime industry has increasingly adopted AI-powered systems for autonomous shipping, predicting maintenance needs, enhancing safety through real-time monitoring, and conducting risk management, among other functions (Spire Maritime Reference Maritimen.d.). These systems process vast amounts of data from sensors, historical trends, and real-time environmental conditions, integrating them into decision-making processes that were previously reliant solely on human judgment. This shift suggests a future where ships may operate independently without human intervention, introducing challenges to traditional and conventional labor structures and frameworks.
3.2.1 AI and Autonomous Shipping
AI enables the operation of autonomous ships that can operate with few or no crew members on board, utilizing advanced technologies for navigation, safety, and efficiency. As classified by the IMO, MASS are divided into four degrees of autonomy: degree one (automated processes and decision support), degree two (remotely controlled ship with a crew on board), degree three (remotely controlled ship without a crew on board), and degree four (fully autonomous ship; Askari and Hossain Reference Askari and Hossain2022). AI is essential for MASS operations, including route optimization, collision avoidance, predictive maintenance, and autonomous decision-making. However, its integration also introduces challenges concerning crew roles, legal liability, and regulatory frameworks. Autonomous ships, especially at degrees three and four, lessen the requirement for onboard crew, potentially resulting in job losses or transitions to shore-based positions, igniting ongoing debates and discussions in the maritime industry regarding potential job displacement versus the preservation of traditional seafarer roles (Lee Reference Lee2023).
One of the notable projects involving AI applications in maritime is Yara Birkeland, widely recognized as the world’s first fully autonomous container ship. Developed by a fertilizer company with the support of Rolls-Royce, this container ship utilizes AI for navigation, collision avoidance, and energy management. The ship sails without a crew on board, relying on shore-based control, which is considered the third degree of autonomy (Youd Reference Youd2022). Rolls-Royce’s vision for autonomous vessels demonstrates just how powerful AI can be in achieving fully autonomous operations through ongoing trials (RINA 2018). Forecasts suggest that, by the mid-2030s, up to 3,000 autonomous or semi-autonomous ships will be deployed, necessitating the widespread adoption of AI, according to the HSBA 2018 report. A more recent study conducted by DNV and commissioned by the Maritime Just Transition Task Force predicts that as many as 800,000 seafarers will require additional training and upskilling by the mid-2030s to enable the shipping industry to transition toward alternative fuels and decarbonization (Kaspersen et al. Reference Kaspersen, Karlsen, Helgesen, Giskegjerde, Krugerud and Hoffmann2022). This research highlights the challenges faced by the maritime sector in addressing the increasing uncertainties about the specific skills and profiles required for the future maritime workforce.
3.2.2 Maritime Voyage Optimization
Technologies based on AI systems are revolutionizing maritime voyage planning and route optimization. As one of the most advanced technologies, AI can efficiently process vast amounts of real-time data, such as fluctuations in weather conditions, changing ocean currents, and active ship traffic, to identify the most efficient and secure maritime routes (Riviera News 2022). One example of these technologies is OptiNav AI, a commercialized solution designed as an innovative maritime voyage-planning tool that heavily relies on big data. Powered by cutting-edge technology, this tool strategically utilizes key parameters of maritime operations, including adverse weather conditions, equipment efficiency, and potential security risks.Footnote 3 OptiNav AI, through the use of advanced algorithms, has continually achieved significant fuel savings, demonstrating that such solutions can navigate intelligently – optimizing vessel performance with cost efficiency – while safely navigating the open seas (True North Marine 2025).
AI algorithms also play an important role in conducting accurate energy-based performance analysis of maritime routes. By comparing features such as variable weather conditions, ocean currents, and fuel consumption ratios of ships, the algorithms can optimize energy-efficient routes for vessels (Unoks 2024). With these sophisticated systems, delivery operations can organize power more efficiently, ultimately affecting overall performance and reliability. This technology could simultaneously reduce the need for specific human roles, potentially leading to job displacement. This shift prompts significant debates and discussions about the onboard roles of seafarers, many of whom derive pride and fulfillment from their expertise at sea. However, the integration of AI may lead to the creation of new roles, requiring upskilling and adaptation. As with other emerging technologies, the resilience and adaptability of seafarers will be crucial in aiding navigation through this transformation of the industry.
As this type of technology automates the navigational routines of ships, its impact on seafarers must be carefully managed. The maritime industry should prioritize collaboration between humans and AI over complete automation to maintain human judgment, empathy, teamwork, and creativity.
3.2.3 Predictive Maintenance
AI is also transforming predictive maintenance within the maritime sector, providing substantial improvements in operational efficiency and safety. AI-driven predictive maintenance systems analyze real-time data from sensors installed on ship components, employing machine-learning algorithms to detect early signs of potential failures (Hamidah Reference Hamidah2024). This approach enables ship operators to perform proactive and preventive maintenance, thereby minimizing unanticipated downtime and extending the ship’s lifespan. Through continuous monitoring of equipment health and performance, AI algorithms can identify minor changes in vibration, temperature, or other parameters that may indicate emerging technical issues (Nautilus Shipping 2024). This early detection allows maintenance personnel to address problems before they escalate into major failures, thereby reducing the risks of accidents and costly repairs. A significant advantage of AI-driven predictive maintenance is its ability to integrate and analyze extensive datasets swiftly and accurately, leading to more precise decision-making regarding maintenance schedules (Buzinkay Reference Buzinkay2023).
However, the impact of AI on maritime labor is complex. Although AI-driven predictive maintenance solutions can automate many routine tasks, they are not expected to completely replace crew members. Instead, these machines enhance human capabilities, allowing the crew to focus on more complex and critical responsibilities. By providing real-time data analytics and risk assessments, AI systems empower maritime professionals to make better, informed, and safety-centric decisions (Editorial Team 2024a). Nevertheless, the integration of AI in maritime operations presents challenges. Resistance to change may exist among crew members and other relevant maritime stakeholders, and ensuring data quality and reliability from various sources can be difficult (Durlik et al. Reference Durlik, Miller, Kostecka and Tuński2024).
The deployment of AI systems requires significant investment in technology and training, which may create financial challenges for some maritime operators. Despite these hurdles, the potential benefits of AI in predictive maintenance for maritime work are substantial. By reducing unforeseen failures and improving maintenance schedules, AI helps to create safer conditions for seafarers onboard ships (Nautilus Shipping 2024). Additionally, AI can track the working hours and health indicators of crew members to prevent overexertion and fatigue, common factors in maritime accidents. Moreover, the growing integration of AI technologies in the maritime industry for predictive maintenance is expected to change the roles of the workforce onboard ships. While some tasks may become automated, new roles will arise, concentrated on supervising and evaluating AI-generated insights. This transformation will demand ongoing training and upskilling to ensure effective collaboration with AI systems (Editorial Team 2024a).
3.2.4 Maritime Security and Risk Management
AI applications in maritime security and risk management cover several areas, including predictive maintenance, route optimization, cybersecurity, and port operations. AI-driven sensors and machine-learning algorithms facilitate operations in turbulent seas.
The legal framework governing AI in maritime operations continues to evolve in order to address the unique challenges posed by this technology. The IMO has recognized the importance of cybersecurity in maritime operations and has released guidelines for protecting digital systems on ships. However, the implementation of these cybersecurity standards for MASS presents new challenges, as their reliance on AI and external communication systems increases their susceptibility to cyber threats.
A key legal concern is liability in mishaps utilizing AI-driven systems. The conventional notion of flag State responsibility, as outlined in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea,Footnote 4 may need reassessment in relation to AI-operated vessels. For instance, if a system failure leads to a multi-vessel collision in international waters, establishing liability becomes complicated when several ships rely on the same machine-learning algorithms (Adnan Reference Adnan2023). The EU’s Artificial Intelligence Act (AI Act),Footnote 5 currently in development, is anticipated to significantly impact the maritime sector. This legislation aims to regulate AI systems based on their risk levels, affecting all areas of the shipping industry. The AI Act underscores safety, data protection, transparency, and accountability tied to the use of AI systems, which will certainly shape the design and operation of autonomous vessels.
Incorporating AI into maritime operations offers advantages and challenges for seafarers. While AI can improve safety by minimizing human errors and offering real-time decision support, it raises concerns about job displacement. Automating maritime operations may result in considerable job displacement among seafarers, requiring a transformation in skills and roles within the industry.
The legal ramifications of AI in maritime security pertain to data protection and privacy. MASS produces and conveys substantial volumes of data, encompassing sensitive details regarding vessel operations and positioning. Securing this data is essential to avert unauthorized access and privacy violations. Therefore, a comprehensive legislative framework is essential to govern the collection, storage, and transfer of data from ships, emphasizing protection against cyberattacks.
3.2.5 Use of AI in Employment Management
While automation provides numerous advantages for managing seafarers’ employment, it also presents notable challenges. The incorporation of process automation and AI into the maritime industry can greatly diminish labor demand, particularly for low-skilled positions. However, highly skilled roles, such as captains and engineers, are likely to be less impacted (WMU 2023).
To mitigate the impact of automation on employment, it is crucial to invest in training, upskilling, and reskilling seafarers while also ensuring their retention in the sector. Improving seafarer qualifications and training seafarers in emerging technologies are essential to help the workforce adapt to the sector’s demands. At the European level, for example, Recommendation (EU) 2024/236 of the European Commission emphasizes the importance of skill-based training.Footnote 6 This training should focus on knowledge, methodology, participation, and adapting workers’ skills to new technologies and processes. Government training initiatives and the modernization of regulated vocational training are key tools in preparing maritime professionals for the automation era. This effort can transform challenges associated with automation into a productive advantage rather than a threat. AI-driven tools can further support the analysis of future skill needs and gaps at the national and industry levels and help individuals identify potential career paths and learning opportunities. These tools, which are already utilized by some public employment services (OECD 2022), can also offer opportunities for additional systemic solutions in various transportation sectors, not just maritime.
3.3 Implications of AI on the Development of Maritime Labor Laws
Multiple scientific papers have reported that the integration of AI in maritime shipping, particularly in the development of autonomous ships, is expected to reduce crew sizes on board, which may create fewer job opportunities. However, it could also generate new positions, such as remote operators that require specialized skills, advanced training, and technical competencies. These developments may necessitate revisions to labor laws to ensure clear and fair working conditions for the maritime workforce, including seafarers, while also addressing legal liability in accidents involving AI systems. The current legal framework, specifically the MLC, protects formal seafarers’ rights on ships but does not clearly address how those rights apply to unmanned vessels, potentially necessitating legislative amendments to the Convention. Additionally, other key instruments, such as the STCW, also require revision and adaptation to the new paradigm of technology use in the maritime sector. As AI and automation technologies continue to reshape the maritime industry, legal and institutional structures must evolve accordingly to safeguard seafarers’ rights, redefine new roles, and, importantly, establish clear accountability in AI-driven maritime operations.
3.3.1 Ongoing Discussions and Future Outlook
International organizations, including the IMO, are endeavoring to regulate autonomous vessels, taking into account labor law ramifications, including the definition of “crew” in the context of remote operations. The International Labor Organization (ILO), although not explicitly addressing autonomous ships, is examining the larger labor implications of AI, which may guide the maritime sector adjustments. Upcoming modifications may entail revised training mandates and alterations to social security, mirroring the dynamic characteristics of maritime employment that are likely to influence different maritime legal instruments governing seafarers’ rights.
3.3.1.1 Maritime Labor Instruments
The MLC, adopted by the ILO, is a comprehensive convention that sets minimum standards for the working and living conditions of seafarers. It entered into force on August 20, 2013, and includes aspects such as minimum age, medical certification, employment agreements, wages, hours of work and rest, leave, repatriation, social security, health and safety, accident prevention, and on-board medical care, among other fundamental labor rights for seafarers. Its primary goal is to ensure the fair employment of seafarers and equitable competition among shipowners, applying to ships entering the ports of ratifying States and those flying their flag. The MLC is not the only regulatory framework governing maritime labor. Other significant instruments adopted by the IMO, such as the STCW, address training and certification relevant to the emerging skill requirements in an AI-driven environment. The STCW was initially developed in 1978 in response to the Torrey Canyon disaster in 1967. The Convention has been continuously revised, with major amendments in 1995 and 2010 following diplomatic conferences. To date, 195 modifications have been introduced to the STCW Code. The Code outlines the basic competency levels for several maritime professions within a series of tables in its mandatory Part A; its nonbinding Part B offers recommendations for the effective implementation of the Convention.
Despite their significance in maritime labor law, these instruments do not yet address the complexity and challenges of the human elements associated with autonomous vessels. Challenges for maritime law regarding the integration of AI (primarily autonomous ships) include, but are not limited to, crew size reduction (and potential job loss), new roles and proficiencies, working conditions for remote operators, legal responsibility and liability, and social security and benefits.
Potential Reduction in Crew Size and Job Implications.
Autonomous ships could significantly reduce the need for onboard crew, leading to job displacement or transformation. A study conducted by Kretschmann et al. highlights the cost advantages of autonomous ships through decreased crew expenses, but also points out potential increases in port expenses and monitoring costs (Nguyen et al. Reference Nguyen, Ruzaeva, Góez and Guajardo2022). Discussions in both industry and academia reflect this dual perspective. For instance, the World Maritime University report on the future of work indicates that whether autonomous ships will signal the end for seafarers’ jobs or not, there will still be a need for seafarers to oversee and maintain these ships when necessary, with appropriate training and skills (WMU 2023). In contrast, as mentioned earlier, another study asserts that seafarers’ jobs will continue to exist even with the increased development of autonomous or semi-autonomous ships, albeit in evolving and more complex capacities and roles (Nautilus International 2018). This controversy underscores the need for international and national labor regulations to address seafarers’ employment security and retraining. In this context, the provisions regarding wages and employment agreements in the MLC may become less relevant for crewless ships, necessitating legislative amendments to support shore-based roles or alternative employment for maritime professionals adapting to the new technological landscape shaped by AI and automation.
New Roles and Skills.
The impact of AI on maritime operations creates employment opportunities for remote operators who oversee autonomous ships from shore. The interim requirements for MASS trials established by the IMO and confirmed in 2019 underscore the essential need for a maritime workforce – which includes all maritime professionals operating on board, on shore, or remotely – to possess adequate qualifications and experience (IMO 2019). Such a shift necessitates revisions to the STCW, ensuring that training programs incorporate skills in AI system administration, as well as remote operations such as cybersecurity. Equipping seafarers with these skills will enable them to safely transition into these new roles. This transition is crucial not only to secure seafarers’ employment but also to ensure that labor regulations serve a protective role in substance. In 2017, the IMO initiated a regulatory scoping exercise (RSE) to evaluate how the organization’s legal instruments could support MASS operations. The RSE identifies the STCW and its Code as critical focus areas for the IMO, indicating that substantial efforts must be made to provide necessary clarifications and guidance before implementing MASS operations with advanced degrees of autonomy on a broader scale. The results of the RSE are documented in MSC.1/Circ.1638 (IMO 2021). The STCW outlines three primary components: (1) definitions and clarifications regarding the roles of the master, crew, and responsible individuals; (2) definitions and clarifications relating to remote control centers; and (3) definitions and clarifications concerning remote operators classified as seafarers. The RSE primarily stressed the importance of defining the new responsibilities of the crew onboard ships and remote operators. It emphasized the need to clarify the connection between remote operators and onboard personnel. However, the RSE did not specify the necessary capabilities for crew members or remote operators involved in MASS operations. Thus, modifications to the STCW and its Code should be evaluated with regard to new technologies or automated procedures. The organization’s structure and the roles of different parties in implementing MASS, along with the required competencies to undertake these additional tasks, remain unclear. Consequently, the maritime community currently faces challenges in determining new training requirements due to the industry’s limited expertise with MASS.
It is important to note that developing new educational and training programs requires significant time and resources. Training and education for seafarers are unique because they include a professional qualification, as outlined by the STCW Code, while also integrating an academic component, which in many countries is incorporated into the higher education system. This duality results in the attainment of a professional certification, specifically a Certificate of Competency, along with an academic degree upon successfully completing the relevant academic programs. Higher education institutions must justify any changes to their academic programs to provide relevant education. Given the considerable time gap between developing an academic program and the subsequent entry of graduates into the labor market, further discussions are essential regarding the curriculum of relevant academic programs and the methods of training and education. The STCW, in its current form, lacks the necessary training materials and organization required for the operation of MASS. In this regard, only a limited number of research projects have begun efforts to investigate the proper training requirements for maritime operations involving MASS ships and other emerging technologies.Footnote 7
Beyond Training: Continuous Professional Development for Seafarers.
As ships evolve from manned to remotely operated or fully autonomous, the responsibilities of ship operators will shift from direct navigation to managing supervisory autonomy. The required expertise includes algorithmic interpretability, human–autonomy collaboration, and crisis response, which may become the primary training objectives. In the future, remotely operated and autonomous ships will need to coexist with conventional vessels, making the roles of masters and engineers crucial for operational continuity, safety, and regulatory compliance (Kim and Schröder-Hinrichs Reference Kim, Schröder-Hinrichs, Ko and Song2021). The diverse landscape of global shipping, characterized by the coexistence of autonomous, remotely operated, and crewed vessels in shared navigational areas, demands that maritime professionals possess both traditional seafaring skills and advanced technical competencies to manage effectively the interactions among these various types of vessels.
New roles are expected to emerge, including remote operation operators, AI ship engineers, and maritime cybersecurity managers, to align with future demands. The integration of AI, automation, and remote operations in shipping is expected to transform numerous professions in the maritime industry, transitioning career paths from conventional hazardous and labor-intensive positions to highly specialized and technology-driven roles. This will augment the intellectual and strategic sophistication of maritime vocations, boost welfare and working conditions, and elevate their status to a level commensurate with specialists in aerospace, robotics, and high-tech industries. In this context, conventional seafarer career trajectories, defined by a hierarchical structure (that is, rank-based) and flexibility (that is, employment per voyage contract), are poised for transformation.
Health, Safety, and Social Security Protection.
The transformation of crew structure due to AI-driven automation will impact social security and benefits. Seafarers are entitled to benefits if their employment terms are impacted by technological development or work performed onshore. However, according to the provisions of the MLC, their benefits, such as medical care and repatriation, may need to be reevaluated. Therefore, inclusive policies are necessary to ensure the welfare of seafarers in an AI-driven future (Kim and Schröder-Hinrichs Reference Kim, Schröder-Hinrichs, Ko and Song2021). The influence of AI on health and safety in maritime operations is substantial, particularly as autonomous ships reduce the need for onboard seafarers. Remote operators may experience isolation or stress due to constant surveillance, and onboard crews of semi-autonomous ships must contend with AI malfunctions, which increase the likelihood of accidents. The MLC’s health and safety provisions, specifically accident prevention under Title 4, require modifications to address these issues, including extending coverage to cover shore-based roles. Social protection, including medical care and repatriation under the MLC, may need reassessment for reduced crew size or shore-based personnel. For its part, the STCW must ensure that seafarers are adequately trained to manage these new situations. Cybersecurity training, for instance, becomes crucial due to the digital nature of AI and other emerging technologies (IMO 2025b). Social protection may guide the STCW’s long-term welfare objectives, ensuring that training includes emergency response for AI-related incidents and cyberattacks.
To address these challenges, tripartite collaboration among governments, shipowners, and representatives of seafarers is essential. In the maritime sector, this approach could influence not only the MLC, which is part of its functionality, but also revisions to the STCW. The IMO’s 2021 regulatory scoping exercise for MASS identified gaps in labor law, including issues related to training and certification, suggesting that tripartite dialogue is necessary to define “crew” and “responsible person” for remote operations (IMO 2025a). For the STCW, tripartite engagement could establish new competency standards for AI interaction, data analysis, and cybersecurity. Social partners, such as the International Transport Workers Federation and Nautilus International, play a critical role in shaping training requirements and aligning them with industry needs and technological advancements.
Legal Responsibility and Liability.
Determining liability in accidents involving autonomous ships is a complex issue. Traditional labor regulations assign responsibility and accountability to the ship’s master and crew, but with AI, these could shift to shipowners, AI technology developers, software developers, or remote operators. This uncertainty has implications for insurance providers, which must develop new models to cover the unique risks associated with AI. The IMO’s legal committee scoping exercise, as part of the 2021 regulatory review, identifies gaps in liability and compensation treaties, suggesting a need for new frameworks (IMO 2025a). This affects labor law, particularly concerning compensation for injuries or incidents, potentially requiring amendments to the MLC’s provisions on accident prevention and shipowner liability.
3.3.1.2 Working Conditions and Potential Control of Workers at Sea
Numerous studies have linked electronic or digital monitoring systems with various aspects of working conditions, considering factors such as employee performance, job duration, work rhythms, collaboration between employees and employers, skill development, and employee well-being. Human capital management and performance management are two primary human resources functions enhanced by AI, though they come with implications for occupational safety and health (OSH). “People analytics” solutions are recognized for improving the recruitment process by enabling informed decisions regarding potential employees, based on their access to relevant data. Certain types of systems allow employers to conduct video interviews to reduce specific biases during the interview process. They can also assess employee performance through performance-based compensation to aid in formulating corporate strategies for individual workers. Without human oversight and ethical considerations, this algorithmic decision-making tool has shown significant potential to create OSH issues, including increased structural, physical, and psychosocial risks such as stress and anxiety (Moore Reference Moore2019, 93). Employees may be led to question the fairness, integrity, and accuracy of decisions made by their employers – such as job displacement and workplace restructuring – due to their lack of access to data derived from people analytics systems.
Workers may feel that they are being monitored if they think that people analytics data is used for performance management without appropriate oversight. This perception, along with the fear of layoffs resulting from performance evaluations, may drive them to increase their work effort excessively due to job loss anxiety, potentially leading to OSH concerns. The most urgent issues related to AI in workplaces stem from using people analytics to gather employee data for decision-making. Other AI systems in the workplace that have contributed to OSH concerns include cobots and chatbots. These AI-enhanced tools have been integrated into various industrial processes, causing psychosocial issues linked to the fear of job displacement due to automation. Different sectors, including automotive manufacturing, utilize cobots to perform tasks that would typically require significantly more human time. Robotic arms have replaced human hands, and AI has enhanced robots with cognitive abilities, allowing them to think like humans and effectively take over human intellect (Moore Reference Moore and De Stefano2020).
A report indicates that using cobots has reduced OSH risks by lowering workers’ exposure to hazardous ergonomic, physical, and chemical conditions (Moore Reference Moore2019, 93). Conversely, another study has identified three primary categories of OSH issues arising from interactions among humans, cobots, and the environment: (1) collision hazards between robots and humans arising from unexpected robot behavior due to machine learning; (2) security vulnerabilities stemming from the robot’s internet connectivity, which can compromise software integrity and expose the system to threats; and (3) environmental risks, where unpredictable human actions and sensor degradation in unstructured environments can lead to hazards (Moore Reference Moore2019, 93). Moreover, AI has facilitated the integration of voice recognition and machine vision into chatbots, which is recognized to threaten both unskilled and skilled jobs due to the increasing automation of tasks traditionally performed by humans. For example, in a chemical firm that manufactures optical peripherals for machinery, an individual would spend numerous hours examining repetitive images of tiny machine chips to detect errors. AI has replaced human labor in this task, eliminating occupational health issues such as musculoskeletal disorders and visual strain. However, improperly utilized AI-augmented robots in factories may induce stress among workers. It is noted that integrating automation, algorithmic management, and digitalization can create a harmful system that may result in psychosocial problems, particularly when employees are expected to perform at a robotic pace instead of allowing robots to operate at a human pace. Occasionally, an employee monitors a single machine that sends notifications to their electronic devices, such as smartphones or computers. This can lead to other psychosocial problems, such as job overload, where individuals continue to work beyond their designated hours.
At sea, the ship is limited in space and vulnerable to navigational hazards. Employment onboard ships is influenced not only by potential accident risks but also by factors of movement and isolation. Life on board requires the integration of work and personal life in a single environment, highlighting the importance of work management along with the composition and size of the crew. Improving onboard working conditions relates to the quality of the ship’s habitability and the safety of life at sea. Maritime surveillance may involve both security and control, as seafarers are required to follow the directives of the shipowner through the ship’s master. As a result, surveillance techniques serve various purposes, including safety, security, regulatory compliance monitoring, and the enhancement of commercial operations. The tripartite objective of overseeing the vessel and its crew is a responsibility of shipowners established by international conventions set by the IMO and the ILO.
Emerging technologies such as AI onboard ships can also increase labor intensity through continuous surveillance and inconsistent scheduling (De Stefano Reference De Stefano2018). In maritime operations, remote operators supervising autonomous vessels may face similar pressures as AI systems control duties and working hours. The MLC’s provisions on work hours and rest for onboard seafarers may not directly apply to shore-based positions, necessitating new regulations to ensure fair treatment, including rights to disconnect and protection from excessive monitoring, in line with general labor regulation trends. Therefore, seafarers have the right to negotiate the use of algorithms and to oversee big data onboard ships. Seafarers’ unions should advocate for safeguards against excessive surveillance of seafarers through various technologies and ensure equitable working conditions (Lagdami Reference Lagdami2023).
Therefore, to ensure the responsible and ethical use of AI aboard ships, it is crucial to focus on four key areas. First, seafarers should have ownership and control over data produced during their work on ships. This principle recognizes the importance of individual privacy and data rights in an increasingly digital maritime environment. Allowing seafarers to control their data fosters trust and transparency in the application of emerging technologies at sea. Second, data generated from seafarers should only be used for purposes related to maritime safety and security. This information should be limited to protect the privacy and interests of maritime workers and to focus on enhancing safety and security in maritime activities. Clearly defining how the data will be used will help prevent its misappropriation or abuse. Third, international regulations should govern the use of AI on board, enshrining the principle of ultimate human responsibility for its impacts. Fourth, seafarers should be trained to address new challenges related to emerging technologies. Seafarers should be aware of the technical, legal, economic, and ethical issues associated with the use of AI-based tools (Lagdami Reference Lagdami2023).
3.3.1.3 Cybersecurity and the Leakage of Seafarers’ Personal Information
The integration of AI and big data in the maritime industry also increases vulnerability to cybersecurity breaches. As we transition more seriously into the digital era, cybersecurity breaches have surged, with operational technology attacks soaring by as much as 900 percent in the past three years (Akpan et al. Reference Akpan, Bendiab, Shiaeles, Karamperidis and Michaloliakos2022). Systems that rely on interconnected networks, cloud platforms, and real-time data exchange become prime targets for cyberattacks. Various threat actors could exploit these vulnerabilities to access information and manipulate or disrupt critical operations at sea. For instance, a cyberattack on an AI-powered navigation system could result in an incorrect route for vessels, thereby putting crew and cargo in dangerous situations. Likewise, a breach in big data systems can adversely affect operations at ports or disrupt global supply chains (Kanellopoulos Reference Kanellopoulos2024).
Notable incidents have been demonstrated in the outcomes of such breaches – for example, the ransomware attack on Maersk, the largest shipping company in the world, in 2017. This incident was essentially operational, except for the broader implications on data security; sensitive information and operational data were at risk of corruption during the rapid recovery process (Clavijo Mesa et al. Reference Clavijo Mesa, Patino-Rodriguez and Guevara Carazas2024). Similarly, in 2020, the Mediterranean Shipping Company encountered a cyber-related incident involving unauthorized access to its customer database (Ben Farah et al. Reference Farah, Amine, Ukwandu, Hindy, Brosset, Bures, Andonovic and Bellekens2022). This breach disrupted container bookings and exposed sensitive data, undermining customer trust and necessitating expensive mitigation efforts. These incidents have underscored the growing need for robust cybersecurity measures to safeguard sensitive information – including seafarers’ personal details – from theft and misuse.
By far the most concerning impact of such incidents is the leakage of seafarers’ personal information in the era of digitalization onboard ships. In fact, with the increasing use of networked digital tools in everyday operations, seafarers are particularly at risk from hacking incidents (Finn Reference Finn2020). In addition, current maritime education and training programs lack a proper element of cybersecurity, rendering seafarers poorly prepared while on the job to identify and neutralize any cyber threats (Heering Reference Heering2020). Such cyber incidents put at risk sensitive information such as medical records, identity details, and financial data. In addition, such information may lead to identity theft, fraud involving financial transactions, and psychological trauma, among other impacts, which can further increase the issue of the criminalization of seafarers. Trust between seafarers and their employers is also undermined whenever inadequate steps have been taken to secure information. These incidents could also cause profound reputational harm to shipping companies, leading to possible legal liabilities, regulatory penalties, and the erosion of stakeholder confidence and trust. Therefore, maritime cybersecurity risks must be dealt with through robust regulatory frameworks and international cooperation to keep sensitive data secure and ensure the resilience of maritime operations.
3.4 The AI Act from a Maritime Labor Perspective
The AI Act – which was adopted in June 2024, entered into force on August 1 of that year, and became fully applicable by August 2026 – is considered the first ever regulatory legal framework governing AI and its challenges and risks. Thus, it puts Europe at the forefront of international AI regulation.
The AI Act was developed based on a risk model; it in fact clusters AI systems according to the risks posed to humans and society (Kosinski and Scapicchio Reference Kosinski and Scapicchio2024). The Act categorizes AI systems into four risk levels: unacceptable risk (prohibited), high risk (strict requirements), limited risk (transparency obligations), and minimal or no risk (no specific obligations; European Parliament 2025). High-risk systems, such as those used in critical applications like medical devices or transportation, must comply with requirements including risk management, data governance, transparency, and human oversight (Meier and Spichiger Reference Meier and Spichiger2024). The Act prohibits certain AI practices, imposes strict regulations on high-risk AI systems, and sets transparency requirements for limited-risk AI applications. This approach permits a nuanced application of rules, imposing stricter regulations that should be applied to high-risk AI systems and less stringent rules for those deemed lower risks. The Act explicitly bans numerous AI methods, especially those that lever human behavior or exploit specific vulnerable groups. Thus, the AI Act complements the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR)Footnote 8 with its governance framework. It strengthens some of the principles of the GDPR, such as the lawfulness of processing personal data, purpose limitation, and transparency. The Act affirms that AI systems must comply with the same legal basis for processing information under the GDPR; thus, no data can be collected for wrongful purposes (Meier and Spichiger Reference Meier and Spichiger2024). It also sets out specific rules for protecting personal data in AI systems. The Act permits the processing of sensitive personal data for bias detection and mitigation in high-risk AI systems, but only under stringent conditions (Hullen Reference Hullen2024). This is one of the conditions necessary to ensure nondiscrimination and fairness in AI applications. In addition, the Act emphasizes data minimization – requiring AI systems to use only the data necessary for the given purpose, which is aligned with the GDPR and reduces the risk of data breaches or misuse. In a move toward such a new legal environment, the European Commission launched the AI Pact, a voluntary scheme to encourage AI developers in and out of European geographies to implement key provisions of the Act in preparation for the legal timeline. In its first expression of interest in the AI Pact, in November 2023, over 550 organizations from various geographies, sectors, and sizes demonstrated a strong willingness to comply proactively.
3.4.1 Intersection of the AI Act with the MASS Code
Currently, the IMO is advancing the development of the MASS Code, which serves as a regulatory instrument for MASS capable of operating at various levels of autonomy, as discussed earlier. The nonmandatory MASS Code aims to ensure safety, security, and environmental protection, and it was expected to be adopted by May 2025. In contrast, a mandatory code could come into effect as early as July 2030, with enforcement potentially beginning in January 2032 (Editorial Team 2024c). This framework is essential as a wide range of sectors within the marine industry start to implement AI and automation, which could transform traditional roles and responsibilities.
The AI Act significantly affects the maritime industry, particularly in relation to MASS. The Act establishes a risk-based framework for AI regulation, which has real implications for autonomous ships where AI systems are responsible for navigation, collision avoidance, and other essential functions. This classification necessitates rigorous testing for compliance before these systems can be commercialized and for subsequent adherence to operational and safety standards for autonomous vessels. On a broader scale, the Act requires human oversight for high-risk AI systems, which could entail ensuring remote monitoring for fully autonomous MASS (degree four) when no crew members are present. The MASS Code, centered on safety, likely aligns by mandating human intervention capabilities, especially for higher levels of autonomy, to address risks such as cyberattacks or system failures (Kepesedi Reference Kepesedi2022).
The AI Act’s requirements for high-risk AI systems will likely influence the MASS Code, particularly for MASS operating in or related to the EU. For degrees one and two, human oversight is clear, with seafarers on board providing direct control. However, for degree three, remote operators must ensure effective monitoring, aligning with the Act’s transparency and oversight requirements. Degree four, which involves fully autonomous ships, presents a significant challenge, as the Act mandates human involvement, potentially requiring remote monitoring systems or contingency plans for human intervention (Lölfing Reference Lölfing2023). As the MASS Code is still under development, it must incorporate these requirements to ensure compliance, potentially leading to provisions for remote operation centers and clear definitions of remote operator responsibilities (Editorial Team 2024b).
So far, there are no examples directly linked to the AI Act and MASS; however, parallels can be drawn from regulations on autonomous vehicles. For instance, the Act’s influence on autonomous vehicles indicates that MASS providers might benefit from AI regulatory sandboxes, which would allow testing in controlled environments (Güçlütürk and Vural Reference Güçlütürk and Vural2024). Trials of MASS conducted by companies in Korea, Japan, and Norway highlight the necessity for robust AI systems with human oversight, aligning with both frameworks.
3.4.2 The AI Act’s Potential Impact on Seafarers’ Roles and Job Prospects
As previously discussed, the AI Act requires human involvement for high-risk AI systems, including MASS, for navigation and decision-making. Even fully autonomous ships (degree four, with no crew on board) may need remote monitoring or intervention, shifting traditional seafaring roles to shore-based positions such as operators based in remote centers. For ships with lower autonomy (degrees one and two, with crew on board), seafarers will continue to oversee AI systems. Still, their roles may evolve to include more monitoring and less hands-on control. This change could reduce demand for on-board seafarers, potentially leading to job displacement, but it also creates new opportunities in remote operation centers. As a general fact, seafarers may need retraining and upskilling to adapt to these new roles, focusing on competencies such as remote monitoring, AI system management, and cybersecurity. This aligns with the AI Act’s focus on a human-centric AI approach and may involve collaborations with training institutions both inside and outside Europe (Meier and Spichiger Reference Meier and Spichiger2024).
3.4.3 Potential Opportunities and Challenges
The alignment of the MASS Code with the AI Act could enhance safety. However, it faces challenges – such as defining human oversight for fully autonomous ships, harmonizing regulatory frameworks, and addressing potential cyber threats – as highlighted in a UN Trade and Development report (Kepesedi Reference Kepesedi2022). Unlike conventional ships, where crew members can respond immediately to emergencies, remote operators must rely on robust communication systems and real-time data to make critical decisions. This dependence on technology introduces new vulnerabilities, such as cybersecurity risks and threats, along with the possibility of communication breakdowns, which could compromise the safety of the vessel, its cargo, and the marine environment. Solutions may include remote monitoring systems or innovative contingency plans. This intersection emphasizes the need for international cooperation, such as between IMO and EU bodies, and the development of codes of best practice for AI in maritime applications (Caroli Reference Caroli2025).
The future outlook suggests a balanced approach that ensures innovation while prioritizing safety and ethical considerations, with ongoing updates to the AI Act and MASS Code as technology evolves. This intersection also underscores the need for collaborative regulatory efforts to navigate the complexities of autonomous shipping and the use of emerging technologies, such as AI, onboard ships. The development of best practice codes for AI in maritime applications is another area where international cooperation could yield significant benefits. Such practice codes could standardize training requirements and define roles for seafarers involved in remote operations, ensuring a consistent approach across different jurisdictions (Wylie Reference Wylie2024). This standardization is crucial for building trust in the use of autonomous shipping technologies and facilitating their global adoption.
Last but not least, as the maritime industry navigates these uncharted waters, it is clear that successfully integrating emerging technologies such as AI into global shipping operations will require a delicate balance between technological innovation and regulatory oversight. The ongoing dialogue between regulatory bodies, industry stakeholders, and technology providers will be crucial in shaping a future where autonomous ships can operate safely and efficiently alongside conventional vessels.
3.5 Conclusion
AI is increasingly being integrated into the maritime domain, driving a profound shift across the operational efficiencies, technology, human element, and regulatory frameworks. Through maritime AI application solutions, including voyage optimization, significant improvements in safety, economic effectiveness, and environmental sustainability can be achieved. Such shifts, however, must be approached with caution, particularly their impact on seafarers and the legal frameworks governing their employment and responsibilities.
At the core of this transformation is the evolving nature of seafarers’ roles and the competencies they must acquire and master. While concerns over job loss persist, research indicates that AI is more likely to transform seafarers’ roles rather than eliminate them, which will increase the demand for new competencies such as data analysis, monitoring AI systems, and operating more complex systems. This shift necessitates a proactive approach to maritime education and training, ensuring that the maritime workforce is able to collaborate with AI systems in tasks and adapt to the changing demands of the industry.
The growing use of AI in maritime operations raises significant legal and ethical concerns. Solutions are needed to address concerns related to liability and accountability that arise from AI system accidents, along with continuing concerns over data privacy and cybersecurity and the need for global coherence among technical standards. Current legal frameworks, largely designed for traditional maritime operations, may not adequately address the unique challenges posed by AI, thus requiring careful scrutiny and realignment to ensure clarity and legal certainty.
The IMO has initiated key efforts to address these challenges, such as developing a strategy on e-navigation and working groups on MASS. These initiatives are essential to establishing a consistent regulatory framework. The initiatives call for more cooperation between different industry actors to develop regulations that balance the need to accelerate AI adoption in the maritime industry with the need for caution and prudence regarding how this technology may affect the global maritime workforce.
While AI-driven transformation represents unprecedented opportunities in the maritime industry, its ultimate success can be achieved only through a holistic solution that addresses human factor concerns and legal uncertainties and promotes multinational cooperation. Innovation in AI is only valuable in the maritime industry when it upholds fundamental principles of safety, security, and occupational health and well-being. The maritime industry must ensure that new technologies complement the work of maritime professionals rather than eliminate it. The responsible proliferation of AI in the maritime sector necessitates a continuous learning mindset, fostering an adaptability and knowledge-sharing culture. Furthermore, prioritizing ethical AI deployment is of prime importance. While ensuring regulatory clarity and workforce development, the maritime industry can efficiently leverage automation and AI’s potential benefits to ensure sustainable and equitable technological advancement.
4.1 Introduction: The Next after God
Decades after the foresightful work of Schönknecht on ships and the shipping of tomorrow,Footnote 1 technological advancements in the shipping sector have finally reached the point of introducing Maritime Autonomous Surface Ships (MASS) and, with them, the shipmasters of tomorrow (Schönknecht and Bertholdt Reference Schönknecht and Bertholdt1983).Footnote 2
MASS are ships that enjoy variable degrees of the ability to operate independently from human interaction (IMO 2021, para. 3.3). The emergence of MASS is the outcome of the utilization of a range of technological advancements in the shipping sector that alters the level and the pattern of human involvement in the operation and navigation of a ship. As a result, many of those operational and navigational tasks that were to be performed by human beings on board a ship are now delegated to sensors, complex data processes, advanced algorithms, or AI-based systems. Therefore, the need for the presence of human beings on board a ship, or their involvement in its operation and navigation, is affected to variable degrees depending on the level of automation.Footnote 3
The emergence of MASS has had a certain effect on the traditional concept of the shipmaster, which has evolved based on the authorities and responsibilities of the role. Those authorities and responsibilities can be traced back to ancient times, being rooted in the key navigational position of the shipmaster.Footnote 4 From a historical perspective, the salient position of the shipmaster regarding almost all matters concerning a ship and its voyage empowered them with a vast scope of authority and accordingly charged them with various responsibilities (Kay et al. Reference Kay, Mansfield and Duncan1894).
Modern technological advancements in the shipping sector have caused many of those traditional authorities and responsibilities of the shipmaster to pale into insignificance, but they have not completely eradicated the key position of the shipmaster due to the wide scope of the operational and navigational tasks that remain tied to the role.Footnote 5 The fact that these duties were unimaginable to be performed from a location rather than on board the ship, or by an entity rather than a human being, led to the formation of a presumption that the shipmaster is always a human being and performs their relevant duties with regard to the operation and navigation of the ship under their command on board. Based on this presumption, the very traditional concept of the shipmaster connotes a human being physically present on board.
However, along with the advancements in MASS-related technologies, the traditional concept of the shipmaster began to alter. This alteration is due to the possibility for MASS shipmasters to perform their duties from a remote location, typically called a remote operational center. It is also arguable that in the higher levels of ship autonomy – when great numbers of relevant operational or navigational tasks, each vast in scope, are to be performed autonomously – there will be no room left for a human shipmaster. Yet, at least from a legal perspective, this argumentation receives weak approvals.
The current International legal framework does not favor masterless navigation.Footnote 6 Many of the safety-related duties of the shipmaster, as codified under the relevant international instruments, imply that they are to be fulfilled by a human being as the shipmaster. An evident example is the overriding authority of the shipmaster, which enables them to proceed with their professional judgment in situations where the safety or security of navigation is endangered (see IMO 1980, 1993, Article 5(2)).Footnote 7 Due to the very aim of this duty, ensuring the safety of navigation, and taking into consideration that non–human-generated decisions are always accompanied by a certain level of unpredictability, unreliability, and uncertainty, it is safe to assume that this role remains to be taken by human beings.Footnote 8
Moreover, under many of the available national definitions of the term “shipmaster,” emphasis has been added on the shipmaster as a “human” who retains the “command.”Footnote 9 Thus, regardless of how advanced the level of autonomy in a MASS is, the national laws of several flag States require the overall command to be retained by a human as the shipmaster. In higher levels of ship autonomy, this overall command may be exercised through implementing decisions generated by autonomous systems or by supervising the system, always maintaining a way of intervention where deemed necessary. This position aligns with the view of the respondent flag States to a questionnaire conducted by the Comité Maritime International working group on unmanned ships, which unanimously expressed that the role of a shipmaster is to be taken by a natural person directly involved in the operation of MASS (CMI IWG 2017, 3).
Considering this, the chapter proceeds with the assumption that, even in the highest levels of autonomy, a human being must always be in overall command of the ship as the shipmaster. If a human retains the role of the shipmaster, their remote location is legally justifiable. Not only do most of the relevant definitions of shipmaster contain no indication of the necessity of the physical presence on board,Footnote 10 the current technological advancement makes room for a wide range of shipmaster’s tasks to be done remotely. Yet, this finding does not imply that relocating the shipmaster from on board is unaccompanied by a range of legal issues.Footnote 11
Retaining a human being in overall command of the ship is also what paves the way for assessing the applicability of the rules of attribution under the Draft Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts (ARSIWA; ILC 2001) for the purpose of attribution of the conduct of a remote shipmaster to the flag State, as this chapter aims to do. According to the mandates of ARSIWA, there is no reliable ground for attribution of the conduct of a nonhuman to a State. With regard to MASS, it is vital to establish flag State responsibility that the wrongful conduct concerned can be traced back to a human being, here the shipmaster.Footnote 12
Such an assessment also needs the term “shipmaster” to be defined. This is due to the vagueness of the concept, resulting from the lack of a comprehensive definition of the term despite the significance of the role and position. This vagueness, when accompanied by the alteration in the traditional concept of the shipmaster, as explained earlier, demands a clarification of the term “shipmaster.”
Examples of a definition of the term under the relevant international instruments are not numerous.Footnote 13 Under several national maritime laws and regulations, the concept is defined and yet is referred to by different terms. For instance, the term “Captain” under the Dutch Civil Code or the German Maritime Labor Act is equivalent to the term “Master” under the UK Merchant Shipping Act or the Maritime and Port Authority of Singapore Act.Footnote 14
To avoid terminological confusion, this chapter uses the term “shipmaster” to refer to the person who is in overall command of a ship and holds plenary responsibility for its operation and navigation (Cartner Reference Cartner2022, §§ 1.2.0, 1.2.1, 1.2.2). The approach of using distinguished terms for addressing such a person based on the ownership and utilization of the ship concerned, as is taken under US laws, is also avoided.Footnote 15
This understanding of the term “shipmaster” not only reflects the significance of the shipmaster’s position and their authority and responsibilities in the context of conventional navigation but also remains relevant and reliable when it comes to the operation and navigation of autonomous ships.
The main legal question the chapter addresses is whether relocating the shipmasters from on board has any effect on the attributability of their conduct as individuals to the flag State according to the rules of attribution codified under ARSIWA. In attempting to present a reliable answer to this question, the chapter raises various subquestions: Is there a legal relationship between the shipmaster and the flag State? What are the legal grounds for the attribution of the conduct of the shipmaster to the flag State, based on the rules of ARSIWA, in the case of conventional ships? When, if ever, may these legal grounds be applicable to the remote shipmasters of MASS and their conduct?
The chapter next illustrates how the shipmaster and the flag State are legally and jurisdictionally bound to each other. Subsequently, the rules of ARSIWA on the attribution of the conduct of individuals to States come into play. Upon the evaluation of the application of the rules of attribution on the conduct of the shipmaster as a private person, the chapter further proceeds by illustrating the features that distinguish conventional shipmasters and MASS shipmasters to assess whether those features have any effect on the attributability of the conduct of MASS shipmasters to their flag State.
4.2 The Legal Relationship between the Shipmaster and the Flag State
The question of attribution starts with mapping how the shipmaster and the flag State are linked to each other (ILC 2001, Article 8(1) commentary). Establishing a link between the shipmaster and the flag State, although it does not automatically make the conduct of the shipmaster attributable to the flag State, forms a basis for the application of rules of ARSIWA to the attribution of the conduct of a private person to a State.
Several potential grounds can be imagined for establishing a legal relationship between the flag State and the shipmasters of ships flying its flag. The appointment of the shipmaster to the role is usually based on a legal contract between the shipowner and the shipmaster, which is also a legal basis for the rights and duties of the shipmaster. An important instance is that to be eligible to enter into such a contract, the shipmaster must be sufficiently licensed and certified. As Cartner notes, the legal criteria and the process of obtaining the relevant licenses and certificates are determined and enforced in accordance with the laws of the flag State, taking into account the relevant international rules and standards to the extent ratified and adopted (Cartner et al. Reference Cartner, Fiske and Leiter2009, 98n108). In other words, it is the flag State that enables the shipmaster to enter the contract with the shipowner by warranting them.
When appointed, the shipmaster arguably acts as a conduit through which the flag State enforces its national laws on board the ship flying its flag (Cartner et al. Reference Cartner, Fiske and Leiter2009, 89). Many of these national laws are also international obligations codified under the relevant International law of the sea instruments, imposed either directly on the shipmaster or on the flag State to require the shipmaster to give effect to them. An example is the duty of the shipmaster to render assistance to people in distress at sea, as codified under the International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS)Footnote 16 and the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS).Footnote 17
Furthermore, the shipmaster has traditionally been acting as the agent of the shipowner, safeguarding the common benefits of the ship and its cargo while voyaging on distant waters or berthing in foreign ports (Gold Reference Gold2004, 57). Although the scope of such agency in the modern era has been subject to limitations, the agent status of the shipmaster is still relevant, especially when it comes to the commercial aspect of a voyage (58). This leads to the stimulating question of whether the shipmaster of a governmentally owned or operated ship acts as the agent of its flag State. Whether that is the case or not, it should be borne in mind that the scope and capacity of this agency are unlikely to be the same as the agency in the sense of the Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts. Therefore, it cannot form, at least solely, a basis for attribution of conduct.
The flag State also has the competency to represent the shipmaster, as well as the right to institute a claim in the case of any loss or damage. As argued by Saint Vincent and the Grenadines in the case concerning the M/V Saiga, the rule of international law with regard to the right of States to protect their nationals is not applicable in cases where the claim concerns a ship flying its flag, things on board it, or all persons involved or interested in its operation. Therefore, the flag State enjoys the right to protect the shipmaster regardless of their nationality.Footnote 18
The legal justification of this argument flows from the content of Article 91(1) of UNCLOS, where it is noted that ships hold the nationality of their flag State. Endowing nationality to a ship creates a jurisdictional link between the flag State and the ship (O’Connell Reference O’Connell1984, 796; see also Guilfoyle Reference Guilfoyle and Proelss2017, Article 91, para. 1, 693). As the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) notes in its procedural rule, UNCLOS considers ships and all people involved in their operation as a single unit linked to the flag State.Footnote 19 Thus, the jurisdiction of the flag State over the ship flying its flag also expands itself to the shipmaster, not to mention that exercising such jurisdiction over the shipmaster and other crew members is the basis for the flag State to give effect to its obligations – for example, those codified under Articles 94 and 217 of UNCLOS.Footnote 20
Nevertheless, the legal relationship between the shipmaster and the flag State as such cannot be a basis for the attribution of the conduct. The matter of attribution of the conduct of a private person or entity to a State is a matter of international law and, therefore, as noted by the International Law Commission, is to be exclusively settled by criteria provided by international law (ILC 2001, Chapter II commentary, para. 4).
What is considered applicable international law in this context is the mandate of the second chapter of ARSIWA on the rules of attribution. Although ARSIWA, by its nature, does not constitute a source of international law, its content has gained binding effect through customary international law. Thus, despite the existence of a relationship between the flag State and the shipmaster, the attributability of the conduct of a shipmaster as a private person to the flag State is to be assessed taking into consideration the mandates of ARSIWA.
4.3 Attribution of the Conduct of the Shipmaster to the Flag State
As noted under its rules of attribution, ARSIWA implies that, as a general principle, the conduct of private persons cannot be attributed to a State (ILC 2001, Chapter II commentary, para. 3). This general rule applies to the conduct of a shipmaster as an individual. However, exceptions to this general rule are also mentioned under ARSIWA.
According to Article 4 of ARSIWA, the conduct of organs of a State is attributable to the State. Individuals may be considered organs of a State, provided they have such status under the internal laws of that State. As prescribed by Article 4 of ARSIWA, whenever an organ status is established for an entity or individual, their conduct is considered the act of the State itself. A State and its organs are one. It cannot be assumed that the actions and intentions of an organ of a State are distinguished from the actions and intentions of the State, for the State functions and declares its intentions through its organs (Anzilotti Reference Anzilotti1912, 126; see also Sereni Reference Sereni1940, 639n5). In this regard, neither is there a difference in their function or their position, nor if they act as central organs of a government or local units (ILC 2001, Article 2 commentary, paras. 6–8).
Whether a shipmaster can be considered an organ of a flag State depends on whether the ship concerned is governmentally or privately operated. When the ship concerned is governmentally operated, the shipmaster is considered as a de jure organ of the flag State (De Vittor and Starita Reference De Vittor and Massimo2018, 84; Papastavridis Reference Papastavridis, Gammeltoft-Hansen and Vedsted-Hansen2016, 172). The shipmaster is designated by the flag State to take command of a ship that represents the government of the flag State.Footnote 21
This analysis is also inferred from the South China Arbitration Award, which notes that the actions of a government-operated ship are attributable to the state as actions of the government.Footnote 22 A ship is only an object and, therefore, cannot proceed with any actions on its own. It is the shipmaster, in their commanding position, who puts the ship into action. This finding is also in accordance with the procedural rule of the ship as a unit, as previously mentioned.
The internal law of a flag State also plays an important role in determining whether the shipmaster of a governmentally operated ship enjoys an organ status. However, even in cases where a direct indication of the recognition of an organ status for the shipmaster is absent under the internal laws of the flag State, the shipmaster of a governmentally operated ship may still be considered a de facto organ of the flag State, since the concept of de facto organ evolves on the fact that even when the internal laws of a state do not recognize an entity as an organ of the state, that entity enjoys organ status as long as it practices as an organ (Crawford Reference Crawford2013). According to ARSIWA, the term “organ” covers all those individual or collective entities that act on behalf of a State (ILC 2001, Article 4 commentary, para. 1). Given the representative status of governmentally operated ships, regardless of their function, it is safe to assume that their shipmasters act on behalf of the State.
When it comes to private ships, attributability of the conduct of the shipmaster to the flag State is not as straightforward as the case of governmentally operated ships, yet it is still feasible. One way of establishing attribution is using the mandates of Article 5 of ARSIWA, which prescribes that the conduct of a person who is not an organ of a State, but who exercises elements of governmental authority, shall be considered the act of the State.Footnote 23 Obviously, not all duties embedded in the role of the shipmaster are in fulfillment of governmental authorities. Thus, assessing the possibility of the attribution of the shipmaster’s conduct based on Article 5 depends on the particulars of the certain obligation breached and accordingly requires a context.Footnote 24 For instance, under Article 98 of UNCLOS, the flag State is charged with an international obligation to require the shipmaster to render assistance to people in distress at sea. The wording of the regulation evidently addresses flag States and imposes an obligation on them. Yet the very subject of such an obligation affects and involves the shipmaster.
The obligation “to require,” as codified under Article 98 of UNCLOS, resembles an obligation of result.Footnote 25 All that the first paragraph of this article requires from the flag State is to require the shipmaster of the ship flying its flag to perform certain actions as described under its subparagraphs. The flag State performs this duty by enacting national legal provisions through its national legislative body (Guilfoyle Reference Guilfoyle and Proelss2017, Article 98, para. 7, 727). Thus, once such provisions are included in the national laws of the flag State, the result is achieved and, therefore, the obligation is fulfilled.Footnote 26
Here, the shipmaster is indeed empowered by the national laws of the flag State to render assistance to people in distress at sea. The shipmaster, in this sense, enforces the national laws of the flag State, which demand that the shipmaster provide assistance (De Vittor and Starita Reference De Vittor and Massimo2018). However, it is unlikely that enforcing the laws of the flag State in this case can be considered an exercise of governmental authority.
The reason for this is simply that the very act of rendering assistance and rescuing is nothing but a humanitarian duty for the flag State (Papastavridis Reference Papastavridis, Gammeltoft-Hansen and Vedsted-Hansen2016, 172; Attard Reference Attard2020, 263; Trevisanut Reference Trevisanut, Nollkaemper and Plakokefalos2017). In other words, no level of delegated governmental authority can be detected in this case, since the very act of rendering assistance cannot be branded governmental unless provided otherwise by the national laws of the flag State. As stated in the commentaries to Article 5: “The internal law in question must specifically authorize the conduct as involving the exercise of public authority” (ILC 2001, Article 5 commentary, para. 7).Footnote 27 Thus, the matter is up to the national laws of the flag State and the very position of the shipmaster in its legal framework. When the national laws of the shipmaster label a certain duty of the shipmaster governmental and empower the flag State with the authority to perform it, the conduct of the shipmaster with regard to that duty can be attributable to the flag State.
Another potential scenario for attributing the conduct of the shipmaster of a private vessel to the flag State is when the flag State instructs or controls the wrongful conduct of the shipmaster. This is to be inferred from the mandates of Article 8 of ARSIWA, which provides that the conduct of a person who is instructed, directed, or controlled by a State is considered the conduct of that State. It is crucial to note that, in cases of both instruction and control, establishing attribution based on the mandates of the article always requires a certain level of effectiveness in the control. Although the notion and content of “effective control” has been repeatedly addressed by international courts, there is no single way to formulate such control. This is because the legal test for effective control varies among cases (Crawford Reference Crawford2013, 204). For instance, while the International Court of Justice in both the Nicaragua and Genocide cases held that the State must exercise effective control over each and every specific act involved in the wrongful conduct, the position of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia was that an overall control of the State sufficed.Footnote 28
Nevertheless, determining the existence of such control may be challenging when a privately operated ship is concerned.Footnote 29 As De Vittor and Starita suggest, the shipmaster as a human being always possesses some autonomy to refuse the wrongful instruction of a flag State (De Vittor and Starita Reference De Vittor and Massimo2018, 85). Therefore, establishing attribution based on the mandates of Article 8 of ARSIWA requires such a great level of control being exercised by the flag State as to practically leave the shipmaster with no option other than giving effect to the wrongful conduct ordered or controlled by the flag State.
The discussion above has concerned the legal grounds for attributing the conduct of the shipmaster to the flag State, taking into account the mandates of ARSIWA. A noteworthy observation is that for the purpose of establishing flag State responsibility, attribution is one of the undisputedly crucial elements. However, in cases where flag State responsibility is to be established based on the wrongful conduct of the shipmaster, what is attributable to the flag State may also be not the shipmaster’s conduct but rather its own.
The flag State is obliged to ensure that what is required from the shipmaster is discharged by them. This duty is categorized as an obligation of conduct. Therefore, when the shipmaster of a privately operated ship avoids discharging their relevant duties, the matter should be settled through the channel of criminal responsibility of the shipmaster, unless it is evident that the flag State has not taken all necessary steps to prevent or punish such avoidance.
In an advisory opinion requested by the Sub-Regional Fisheries Commission, ITLOS determined that flag States are bound by the due diligence obligation concerning illegal, unreported, and unregulated fishing activities conducted by vessels flying their flags.Footnote 30 As Papastavridis maintains, a similar due diligence obligation can be assumed for the flag State in the context of rendering assistance and rescue operations as what is required from flag States under Article 98 of UNCLOS, which includes a “level of vigilance in their enforcement” (Papastavridis Reference Papastavridis, Gammeltoft-Hansen and Vedsted-Hansen2016, 164). This is very well aligned with the position of the International Law Commission, which noted that “the different rules of attribution stated in chapter II have a cumulative effect, such that a State may be responsible for the effects of the conduct of private parties, if it failed to take necessary measures to prevent those effects” (ILC 2001, Chapter II commentary, para. 4).
Therefore, the conduct of the shipmaster of a private vessel may attract the responsibility of the flag State, if the flag State fails to ensure that the shipmaster discharges their duties and refrains from not giving effect to them. In this case, what is attributable to the flag State is not the conduct of the shipmaster but its failure to ensure that the performance of the shipmaster is in accordance with what is legally expected from them; and, if not, their wrongful performance is to be dealt with through effective punitive measures.
However, this may be challenging to establish due to the content of the obligation. As previously noted, the due diligence obligation of the flag State to prevent wrongful conduct of the shipmaster requires it to take all necessary steps to ensure that such conduct is prevented. Thus, establishing flag State responsibility is feasible only if it is proven that the flag State has indeed failed in making its best efforts to prevent the conduct concerned.
4.4 The New Shipmaster and the Flag State
When it comes to the context of autonomous shipping, the attributability of the conduct of the shipmaster to the flag State must be evaluated, taking into account elements that distinguish between the shipmasters of conventional ships and those of MASS – most importantly, their remote location.
Before proceeding further with this element, it is necessary to note that autonomous ships, regardless of their special features, enjoy the same characteristic as their conventional peers as “ship.” The matter of what is considered a ship under the international law of the sea is beyond the scope of this chapter. However, it can generally be argued that as far as UNCLOS is concerned, the matter depends on the laws of flag States.Footnote 31
Several national maritime laws do not exclude the special features of MASS in their definitions of the term “ship.” In addition, autonomous ships meet the constitutive criteria based on which a vessel is recognized as a ship, as included in those definitions, such as the ability to float, having a hollow design, or being involved in navigation.Footnote 32
The enjoyment of a ship’s status is what makes autonomous ships equally subject to the same legal rules enshrined in the international law of the sea framework as their conventional peers. Thus, they must have a master at least in overall command (UNCLOS, Article 94). This role is always to be taken by a human being, regardless of their level of involvement in operational or navigational tasks or their location. Thus, the assessment of whether the same legal relationship can be assumed between the flag State and these “new” shipmasters hinges on whether that relationship flows from the physical location of the shipmaster on board the ship concerned.
Among the different factors that create a link between the shipmaster and the flag State, as previously discussed, the jurisdictional link is the one that may arguably be most affected by the relocation of the shipmaster from on board. Assuming that the jurisdiction of the flag State on the shipmaster flows from its jurisdiction on the ship, the procedural rule of the ship as a unit again comes into play.
As formulated by ITLOS, “every person involved or interested in [the ship’s] operation is linked to the flag state.”Footnote 33 The wording of that paragraph makes no reference to the physical location of “every person”; rather, their involvement in the ship’s operation suffices to link them to the ship and, consequently, to the flag State, since the ship itself is linked to the flag State once it has been registered under its flag (UNCLOS, Article 91).
The most important element that distinguishes conventional and MASS shipmasters is their remote location, especially in higher degrees of ship autonomy. The new shipmaster who, as a result of the ship’s automation, performs their relevant duties from a remote location is still, to a high degree, involved in the ship’s operation. Thus, they retain their position linked to the ship and subsequently to the flag State. As argued by Yoo and Shan, it is crucial for remote shipmasters and crew that they are assumed to be an integral and inseparable part of the MASS, regardless of their location (Yoo and Shan Reference Yoo and Shan2019, 563). Otherwise, not only would they fall out of the scope of the relevant regulations under the international law of the sea framework, but also the ship itself would be exposed to unseaworthiness.
Furthermore, Article 94(2)(b) of UNCLOS explicitly notes that the flag State is obliged to assume jurisdiction over the ship flying its flag and its shipmaster under its internal laws. The answer to the question of how exactly the flag State must fulfill this obligation is closely bound to the content and nature of the obligation, as well as whether the remote location of the new shipmaster remains within the territorial jurisdiction of the flag State. This falls outside the scope of this chapter. Yet, nothing would diminish the importance of this obligation being fulfilled, as giving effect to various other international obligations imposed on the flag State is bound to such jurisdiction being effectively exercised (Nandan and Rosenne Reference Nandan and Rosenne1995, Article 94, para. 94.8(a)).
Thus, not only does the remote location of the shipmaster have no effect on them being jurisdictionally linked to the flag State, but also the flag State is, in fact, bound by an international obligation to effectively exercise such jurisdiction over the remote shipmaster. Even in cases where the remote shipmaster does not have the nationality of the flag State and performs their duties from an ROC located outside the territory of the flag State, the flag State shall exercise its jurisdiction over the master. The ship as a unit is under the jurisdiction of the flag State, and this provides sufficient legal ground for the situation mentioned.
However, the effective implementation of this situation may need the flag State to cover sufficiently the matter under its national laws, since the situation would not fit into the common rules of allocation of jurisdiction. Nevertheless, it is important to note that attribution and jurisdiction are two separate concepts that may overlap, but do not necessarily do so. Assessment of the relationship between attribution and jurisdiction in the context of the international law of the sea is different from other contexts, such as human rights law.Footnote 34 When it comes to the international law of the sea, assuming jurisdiction by the flag State over the shipmasters of ships flying its flag is a basis for guaranteeing the enforcement of the laws of the flag State on board a ship. Moreover, this jurisdiction provides a legal basis on which the flag State can represent the shipmaster regardless of their nationalities or take punitive measures in cases where shipmasters refrain from performing their relevant duties.
Although the remote location of the shipmaster, especially in cases where the remote operational centers are located outside the territory of the flag State, poses challenges for the flag State to enforce its jurisdiction, it is unlikely that these challenges also attenuate grounds for attribution of the conduct of the shipmaster based on the rules of ARSIWA. This is simply because as far as the rules of attribution under ARSIWA are concerned, no indication of the necessity of jurisdiction for establishing attribution can be detected. In other words, ARSIWA does not require a jurisdictional link between the private person and the State for the purpose of attribution. Attribution can be established based on nationality or territoriality. This reasoning may extend further by relying on cases in which the conduct of a private person or entity was attributable to a State while they neither were nationals of that State nor had committed the wrongful conduct within its territorial jurisdiction. Instead, “control” was a basis for the attributability of conduct.Footnote 35
It is arguable that in the context of the international law of the sea, jurisdiction, when effectively exercised, normally entails a certain level of control. When Article 94 of UNCLOS makes it an obligation for the flag State to effectively exercise its jurisdiction over the ship flying its flag, it seems that the ultimate goal is to ensure that the flag State retains a certain level of control over the vessel as a unit, which enables it to deliver its relevant duties with regard to the safety of navigation.
Given that exercising jurisdiction over the ship and its master is a duty imposed on the flag State under UNCLOS, it is safe to assume that the flag State must retain a consistent control over the ship flying its flag, as well as its master, officers, and crew (see Article 94(2)(b)). Whether such a control is effective enough to form a ground for attribution of the conduct of the shipmaster to the flag State is a matter that is to be evaluated on a case-by-case basis, taking into consideration the applicable rules of international law and the particulars of each case.
4.5 Conclusion
The advent of emerging technologies in the maritime sector has made it necessary for many of the current relevant regulations to be reconsidered, adjusted, modified, or even replaced. Many others, however, may retain their relevance and applicability. Rapid advancement in MASS results in many safety and security concerns, to which the current international regulations may not be fully respondent. This highlights the importance of the question of responsibility for their operation and navigation.
Among all parties involved in the operation of MASS, their flag States are at the forefront of ensuring the safety and security of their operation and navigation. Thus, it is crucial for the flag States willing to benefit from the advantages of MASS to be fully aware of their duties regarding their operation and navigation. This very well leads to the question of the international responsibility of the flag State for the operation of MASS flying their flag.
Establishing flag State responsibility is bound to the existence of constitutive elements of the international responsibility of States, including attribution of the wrongful conduct to the flag State. For MASS to identify as ships, they are subject to the same regulatory framework applicable to conventional ships. This, among other things, includes the rejection of masterless navigation as well as the unsuitability of appointing a nonhuman shipmaster. Yet, the special features of MASS have enabled the shipmaster to retain the overall command of the MASS concerned, performing a vast scope of relevant operational and navigational duties from a remote location, especially in higher levels of ship autonomy.
The relocation of the shipmaster from on board, although it is accompanied by a certain range of legal issues, has almost no impact on the applicability of the rules of attribution as codified under ARSIWA. Taking into consideration the relationship between the shipmaster and the flag State, along with the procedural rule of the “ship as a unit” as formulated by ITLOS, it becomes evident that what creates a link between the shipmaster and the flag State is not the physical location of the shipmaster. Rather, it is the legal position of the shipmaster, as well as the jurisdictional link between the shipmaster and the flag State that is created when the ship is endowed with the right to fly the flag of the State.
Exercising effective jurisdiction by the flag State over MASS flying its flag, and accordingly over their shipmasters, is one of the most significant legal challenges that must be addressed, especially in cases where the remote operational center is located outside of the territory of the flag State. The legal challenge, however, does not hinder the applicability of rules of attribution as formulated under ARSIWA.
Although jurisdiction, when effectively exercised, is indeed a legal basis for exercising control over the performance of the shipmaster and, accordingly, taking punitive measures against the wrongful conduct of the shipmaster, it cannot solely be a legal ground for establishing attribution. Attribution of the conduct of an individual to a State is a matter of international law and, therefore, is solely governed by the rules of international law, here the mandates of ARSIWA.
Thus, attribution of the conduct of the shipmaster to the flag State is to be assessed through Articles 4, 5, and 8 of ARSIWA. Elements such as MASS being governmentally or privately operated, whether the duty imposed on the shipmaster may be labeled governmental, whether the wrongful conduct of the shipmaster regarding that duty forms a breach, the role and the level of control of the flag State on prescribing the wrongful conduct, and the particulars of each case are among the factors that impact the applicability of those articles. It should also be borne in mind that flag States – those willing to endow the right to fly their flag to MASS – must clearly define the role and the position of MASS shipmasters in their national laws. This potentially plays a determinant role in the assessment of the applicability of rules of attribution with regard to the conduct of the shipmaster, as codified under ARSIWA.