Seagrass rarely makes headlines like coral reefs or mangroves, but it plays a role just as crucial. These underwater meadows act as nurseries for marine life, natural water purifiers and powerful carbon sinks, helping to regulate our climate. They also protect coastlines from erosion and sustain fisheries that feed millions.

Yet, despite their importance, we are losing seagrass meadows at a staggering pace – two football fields every hour.

As awareness of seagrass grows, so does enthusiasm for restoration. Governments, corporations and NGOs are looking to direct resources into planting projects, eager to undo past damage. But is replanting the answer, or are we focusing on the wrong solution?

My first attempt at planting seagrass was in Shark Bay, Western Australia. My lab mate was running a trial, and I was helping – ankle wrapped in a Shark Shield (it’s not called Shark Bay for nothing), carefully pressing Posidonia australis (ribbon weed seagrass) into the seabed, sprig by sprig. No sooner had I planted them than a pesky crab snipped away my work, undoing my efforts in seconds.

Years later, back in Malaysia, my student attempted something similar for a field experiment. This time, herbivorous fish were the culprits, devouring the plantings before she could even secure them into the ground – sometimes snatching the shoots straight out of her hand.

Seagrass restoration isn’t like gardening on land. It’s not even as straightforward as planting mangroves or corals. Despite the best intentions, restoration often fails – not because we aren’t trying, but because we’re treating seagrass as if it behaves like any other habitat. And yet, as seagrass finally gets the attention it deserves, we must ask: Are we prioritising what truly helps these meadows recover, or simply chasing what’s trendy in conservation?

Seagrass: From Overlooked to In Demand

Just a decade ago, seagrasses were barely on the conservation radar compared to coral reefs and mangroves. Governments and conservation groups focused funding on reef rehabilitation, while mangrove planting became a popular corporate social responsibility (CSR) activity. Seagrass? It was often dismissed as “just grass.”

That has changed. Researchers and conservationists have worked hard to shift public perception, and seagrass conservation has finally gained traction. Here’s where the problem starts: the conservation world is pouring money into planting while neglecting the simplest, most effective solution: protecting what we have left.

Recent proposals to replant seagrass in Johor’s coastal waters reflect a growing commitment to conservation. However, without solid research and long-term protection, they risk being expensive experiments rather than lasting solutions. For the species found in Malaysia, we still lack the science to ensure large-scale restoration will work. While planting projects can contribute to recovery, prioritising them over protection risks being an expensive distraction from real conservation efforts. Protecting what remains should be our first line of defence.

Seagrass Restoration: Time for a Rethink

Restoration has undeniable appeal – it feels like a tangible, hopeful response to undo the damage we’ve done. But seagrass restoration is extremely difficult, expensive, and has a low success rate.

For every 100 sprigs of seagrass we plant, fewer than 40 survive. Many are swept away by currents, eaten by marine herbivores or smothered by sediment. Unlike mangroves and corals, which have well-established restoration methods with higher survival rates, seagrass plantings remain highly vulnerable to waves, grazing and shifting sediments. This makes seagrass restoration far riskier and less predictable.

Even when successful, restoration often happens on too small a scale to offset ongoing losses. Restoring a fully functioning seagrass meadow would require tens of thousands of shoots or seeds just to ensure that some will survive – an undertaking that is not just costly but also impractical in many parts of Southeast Asia, where resources for marine conservation are already stretched thin.

But even if restoration succeeds in the short term, an even greater challenge looms: pollution. Without addressing the root causes – coastal development, sea-filling and industrial runoff – newly planted meadows will struggle to survive. If we don’t stop the destruction at its source, how can we expect restoration to stand a chance?

Restoration vs. Protection: Are We Prioritising the Wrong One?

If corporations and governments are serious about making a lasting impact, protection must come first. Restoration alone is not a solution - it’s a costly stopgap measure at best. Without urgent action to curb pollution and habitat destruction, even the most well-funded restoration efforts will fail.

We don’t need more promises – we need action. Governments must tackle coastal pollution, enforce marine protected areas, and put an end to destructive development before more meadows are lost. After all, a healthy seagrass bed doesn’t need replanting; it just needs us to stop destroying it in the first place.

But conservation strategies shouldn’t come only from the top. Coastal communities who have lived alongside seagrass meadows for generations are able stewards of these ecosystems. They have long warned about the threats of land clearing, industrial effluent and land reclamation, yet decision-makers have sidelined their knowledge for too long. As one villager told us, “You people only start paying attention once something is lost”. It’s time we listened before it’s too late.

Seagrass is finally getting the attention it deserves, and that’s worth celebrating. But real progress won’t come from planting alone. It will come from protecting what remains, funding science that makes restoration viable, and working alongside the communities that rely on these meadows. If we get this right, seagrass will do what it has always done: thrive, sustain life, and heal our coasts.

Happy World Seagrass Day!

-- BERNAMA

Jillian Ooi (jillian_03@um.edu.my) is an Associate Professor of seagrass ecology and biogeography at Universiti Malaya, a Pew Fellow in Marine Conservation and a Komai Fellow. Her more recent work focuses on seagrass restoration and public outreach.

Ooi is also the Artistic Director of Rhythm in Bronze, leading ArtScience projects that blend gamelan music with environmental storytelling.