Artificial Islands: A Legal Object Adrift at Sea

As sea levels continue to rise, reshaping coastlines and threatening entire nations, bold new ideas are emerging. Among them: artificial islands — not in science fiction, but in the plans of architects, engineers, and policymakers seeking to confront climate displacement head-on. Organisations like Civilisation Indigo are developing prototypes for floating cities designed to house climate refugees, research centres, and renewable energy infrastructure. But as these islands take shape in concept and in steel, one question remains unresolved: what are they in the eyes of the law?
The idea is not new. Waterworld, the 1995 cult film set in a flooded future, imagined humanity surviving on artificial atolls after a 7,600-metre sea level rise. While exaggerated, its premise touches on a pressing reality: rising seas. Driven by melting glaciers, polar ice caps, and thermal expansion, global sea levels have surged in recent decades. In 2025, NASA reported that sea levels rose by 0.59 cm in 2024 alone — far above the projected 0.43 cm.
Entire coastal regions face flooding. Small island states risk disappearing entirely. Some estimates suggest up to 1.2 billion people could be displaced by 2050 due to climate-related threats. This looming crisis pushes us to consider the ocean not only as risk — but as refuge.
Ocean as Frontier
Oceans cover 71% of the Earth, yet less than 3% of the seabed has been thoroughly mapped. Scientists have catalogued around 240,000 marine species, while actual estimates range from 500,000 to 10 million. The ocean, in other words, remains largely untapped — both ecologically and geopolitically.
It is within this context that the Smart Eco System project, launched in 2023 by Civilisation Indigo, envisions modular, regenerative, and floating urban infrastructure. These artificial islands would not only host climate refugees but also serve as laboratories for sustainable living. Technologically feasible, logistically ambitious — but legally ambiguous.
An Uncharted Legal Terrain
International maritime law is governed by the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), signed in 1982 in Montego Bay. This convention defines maritime zones — territorial waters, exclusive economic zones (EEZs), the high seas — and allocates rights to coastal states accordingly. While a coastal state may build artificial islands in its EEZ (Article 60), UNCLOS is silent on their exact legal definition. It explicitly states that artificial islands do not generate territorial waters and are not considered natural islands under international law.
Several scholars have proposed typologies — such as legal expert Alfred Soons, who distinguishes between anchored floating platforms, fixed seabed structures, and concrete constructs made from deposited materials. Yet no unified legal classification exists.
Could such platforms be considered ships? Not without propulsion or navigation systems. Could they be sovereign? That opens even more complex legal, political, and ethical questions.
The Risks of a Legal Vacuum
Without a recognised legal status, artificial islands occupy a grey zone. Who bears legal responsibility in the event of environmental harm or third-party damage? What laws govern their inhabitants? Which international conventions apply — SOLAS (Safety of Life at Sea), MARPOL (pollution), COLREG (collision regulations)?
This legal indeterminacy is not just academic. It has real consequences for climate migrants, for state sovereignty, for international conflict and cooperation. As these floating infrastructures begin to materialise, the law must catch up.
The task is urgent — more so than ever. We are not only racing against rising waters, but against the slow pace of legal adaptation. The artificial island is no longer fiction. It is a new legal object demanding recognition, regulation, and robust frameworks for governance.
From Unidentified to Recognised
These questions are not peripheral — they are central. The future of climate adaptation depends not just on engineering or finance, but on law’s ability to imagine and regulate what has never existed before.
Artificial islands are not just floating platforms. They are floating precedents. It’s time to give them legal definition — before they drift too far beyond our grasp.