By John Pappalardo
When BOEM issued a 259-page EA in the FR last month, kind of like an initial EIS, it was all about a PSN and SAP in the WEA.
Got it?
Too bad there’s not a phone app that translates government acronyms the way they translate languages. It would send back the following:
“When the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management issued a 259-page Environmental Assessment in the Federal Register last month, kind of like an initial Environmental Impact Statement, it was all about a Proposed Sale Notice and Site Assessment Plan in the Wind Energy Area.”
The report is so loaded with acronyms and abbreviations it took two full pages in an introduction to list them; if they hadn’t been used maybe 259 pages would have become 300.
Might not be such a bad thing, come to think of it.
In many years, literally thousands of public meetings, I’ve seen and heard acronyms employed by pretty much everyone, everywhere, myself included. I talk about EBFM rather than spitting out “Ecosystem-Based Fisheries Management.” I reference MMPA rather than pronouncing “Marine Mammal Protection Act,” ESA instead of “Endangered Species Act.” I go to GoM meaning “Gulf of Maine,” OCS meaning “Outer Continental Shelf.” I reference NMFS rather than “National Marine Fisheries Service,” NOAA rather than “National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.”
That’s confusing enough, sometimes creating a much-unintended barrier for people who don’t wade into this world week after week, who want to participate and understand but don’t have the insider’s lingo and shorthand.
But this Environmental Assessment, a very important document that sets the stage for major proposed offshore wind development in GoM (sorry, Gulf of Maine), journeys even farther into jargon than I’m used to deciphering. This isn’t alphabet soup, this is a seriously thick stew:
There are ADCPs and ATON, BIAs and COPs, G&G, GPs, NARWs, LoCs from NGOs, SBNMS, a TSS, UMEs with VMS – I’ll stop (for now).
There may be some who, consciously or unconsciously, employ these letters as a way to be exclusive, separating those in the know with technical training and education from those looking in, the general public. But I’d say by and large that is not the motivation. Much more often people steeped in this complex process, full of bureaucratic entities and actions, become so comfortable with these acronyms and terms that they just roll out. It’s like a dialect spoken by a subculture. Everyone who speaks the main language understands a lot of it, but far from all of it.
One of the roles the Fishermen’s Alliance plays is to make sure we understand this dialect, keep up with its nuances, and then provide a kind of translation. But that’s just the start. Much as the “EA” is a telling expression of an acronym-rich bureaucracy, the Alliance’s response — framing real issues and pressure points, gathering insights from our community and bringing them into the conversation — also is a great example of how we can try to participate, and help.
As an example, read our written comments on the offshore wind development proposed sale notice draft, which we delivered on June 27.
We’ve learned to speak this ABC language because it’s essential for representing our small-boat fleet and all it represents. But we also speak the language of fishing, historic communities, and healthy oceans. Our challenge is to turn translations into better outcomes because cutting through the lingo doesn’t mean much unless it’s backed up with creative engagement, priorities defined, specifics highlighted, and watchdog vigilance.
John Pappalardo is CEO of the Cape Cod Commercial Fishermen’s Alliance