If You Eat Fish, You’re Probably Getting Ripped Off

Seafood fraud hurts consumers and fishermen. Luckily, there’s a growing effort to fight back.

Illustration by Jackie Ferrentino

Fight disinformation: Sign up for the free Mother Jones Daily newsletter and follow the news that matters.


On a morning in early spring, at a dock alongside a popular Central Florida boardwalk, Jason DeLaCruz helps his crew unload 11,700 pounds of grouper, red snapper, and bycatch from the boat The Blackjack. The six men work quickly to grade the day’s catch, plopping each fish into sturdy cardboard vats layered with ice. They have good reason to hurry: They’ll need to jump through several extra hoops—more than most operations—before sending it all to market.

That’s because, in addition to running his Madeira Beach seafood operation, DeLaCruz is the executive director of a nonprofit conservation agency called Gulf Wild. By affixing a data tag onto the gill of each fish, Gulf Wild captains provide consumers with details about the location of the catch, which boat pulled it in and with what gear, and even the quality of the water it swam in. The information is uploaded into an online “Transparensea” database, which handlers then update along each step of the fish’s journey to the dinner table.

On a morning in early spring, at a dock alongside a popular Central Florida boardwalk, Jason DeLaCruz helps his crew unload 11,700 pounds of grouper, red snapper, and bycatch from the boat
The Blackjack. The six men work quickly to grade the day’s catch, plopping each fish into sturdy cardboard vats layered with ice. They have good reason to hurry: They’ll need to jump through several extra hoops—more than most operations—before sending it all to market.

That’s because, in addition to running his Madeira Beach seafood operation, DeLaCruz is the executive director of a nonprofit conservation agency called Gulf Wild. By affixing a data tag onto the gill of each fish, Gulf Wild captains provide consumers with details about the location of the catch, which boat pulled it in and with what gear, and even the quality of the water it swam in. The information is uploaded into an online “Transparensea” database, which handlers then update along each step of the fish’s journey to the dinner table.

That seems like great lengths to go for some local grouper. But for Gulf Wild’s 50 or so boat captains, the extra steps are worth it, part of a growing effort to combat seafood fraud.

Tilapia mislabeled as grouper can cost the consumer $4 more per eight-ounce fillet at the grocery store, and $12 extra per fillet at a restaurant.

It’s common in the food industry to boost profits by misleading customers about an animal’s origins, but this kind of fraud is especially rampant when it comes to seafood. From 2010 to 2012, the conservation agency Oceana conducted DNA tests on seafood in 21 states and found that one-third of the samples had been mislabeled. A whopping 87 percent of the “red snapper” samples were bogus, swapped in for cheaper fish like tilapia or rockfish. Florida’s prized grouper is also often replaced with tilapia or even farmed Asian catfish. Most customers can’t tell the difference, but mislabeling hurts people at both ends of the supply chain: Tilapia mislabeled as grouper can cost the consumer $4 more per eight-ounce fillet at the grocery store, and $12 extra per fillet at a restaurant. And fishermen who respect conservation quotas wind up selling true grouper at a deflated price.

Mislabeling also means that seafood billed as “local” or “sustainably sourced” can be far from it. A recent Tampa Bay Times investigation found, again through DNA testing, that “Florida blue crab” purchased at one Tampa trattoria actually came from the Indian Ocean. Shrimp marketed elsewhere as “Florida wild-caught” grew up on a farm in Asia. Getting ripped off isn’t the only problem: Imported shellfish could be the product of slavery or harbor illegal antibiotic residues. A pregnant woman steering clear of mercury-laden tilefish, for instance, might inadvertently eat some when she thought she’d ordered snapper.

Gulf Wild started in 2010, as the farm-to-table movement encouraged people to find out where their food came from. Today, noted chefs like Mario Batali and Sean Brock and grocery stores like Wegmans and Whole Foods will only purchase traceable fish and shellfish. Last year, Gulf Wild boats pulled in more red snapper and grouper than any other operation—nearly a third of the US quota for each—meaning consumers can be more confident when eating those fish. The fishermen benefit, too: “We went from about $2.50 a pound [for red snapper] to $5.15 per pound back to the boat,” says Gulf Wild’s treasurer, Buddy Guindon, “allowing us to put a little bit more in the fishermen’s pockets for doing a little bit more work.”

Similar programs are cropping up elsewhere: In Massachusetts, Red’s Best “reduces the distance between you and your fisherman” with its QR codes; Seattle-based Trace Register tracks seafood “lot by lot, shipment by shipment.” But 90 percent of the seafood eaten in the United States is imported, and typically untraceable. According to officials with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, global seafood fraud depresses prices for law-abiding seafood operations—resulting in $10-$20 billion in annual losses.

With electronic tags, the people buying and eating seafood “are getting a foothold back,” says DeLaCruz.

In 2015, a presidential task force proposed requiring importers to produce traceability data for the 16 species most often fished and sold illegally. That data wouldn’t be shared with consumers. Which is too bad, since, as many fishermen will reiterate, consumers are the ones who influence the market. With electronic tags, says DeLaCruz, the people buying and eating seafood “are getting a foothold back. They’re beginning to see the standard they expect in their fish.” The larger question is: Will they fork over a little more for traceable seafood, or continue to fall for a fishy story?

That seems like great lengths to go for some local grouper. But for Gulf Wild’s 50 or so boat captains, the extra steps are worth it, part of a growing effort to combat seafood fraud.

Tilapia mislabeled as grouper can cost the consumer $4 more per eight-ounce fillet at the grocery store, and $12 extra per fillet at a restaurant.

It’s common in the food industry to boost profits by misleading customers about an animal’s origins, but this kind of fraud is especially rampant when it comes to seafood. From 2010 to 2012, the conservation agency Oceana conducted DNA tests on seafood in 21 states and found that one-third of the samples had been mislabeled. A whopping 87 percent of the “red snapper” samples were bogus, swapped in for cheaper fish like tilapia or rockfish. Florida’s prized grouper is also often replaced with tilapia or even farmed Asian catfish. Most customers can’t tell the difference, but mislabeling hurts people at both ends of the supply chain: Tilapia mislabeled as grouper can cost the consumer $4 more per eight-ounce fillet at the grocery store, and $12 extra per fillet at a restaurant. And fishermen who respect conservation quotas wind up selling true grouper at a deflated price.

Mislabeling also means that seafood billed as “local” or “sustainably sourced” can be far from it. A recent Tampa Bay Times investigation found, again through DNA testing, that “Florida blue crab” purchased at one Tampa trattoria actually came from the Indian Ocean. Shrimp marketed elsewhere as “Florida wild-caught” grew up on a farm in Asia. Getting ripped off isn’t the only problem: Imported shellfish could be the product of slavery or harbor illegal antibiotic residues. A pregnant woman steering clear of mercury-laden tilefish, for instance, might inadvertently eat some when she thought she’d ordered snapper.

Gulf Wild started in 2010, as the farm-to-table movement encouraged people to find out where their food came from. Today, noted chefs like Mario Batali and Sean Brock and grocery stores like Wegmans and Whole Foods will only purchase traceable fish and shellfish. Last year, Gulf Wild boats pulled in more red snapper and grouper than any other operation—nearly a third of the US quota for each—meaning consumers can be more confident when eating those fish. The fishermen benefit, too: “We went from about $2.50 a pound [for red snapper] to $5.15 per pound back to the boat,” says Gulf Wild’s treasurer, Buddy Guindon, “allowing us to put a little bit more in the fishermen’s pockets for doing a little bit more work.”

Similar programs are cropping up elsewhere: In Massachusetts, Red’s Best “reduces the distance between you and your fisherman” with its QR codes; Seattle-based Trace Register tracks seafood “lot by lot, shipment by shipment.” But 90 percent of the seafood eaten in the United States is imported, and typically untraceable. According to officials with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, global seafood fraud depresses prices for law-abiding seafood operations—resulting in $10-$20 billion in annual losses.

With electronic tags, the people buying and eating seafood “are getting a foothold back,” says DeLaCruz.

In 2015, a presidential task force proposed requiring importers to produce traceability data for the 16 species most often fished and sold illegally. That data wouldn’t be shared with consumers. Which is too bad, since, as many fishermen will reiterate, consumers are the ones who influence the market. With electronic tags, says DeLaCruz, the people buying and eating seafood “are getting a foothold back. They’re beginning to see the standard they expect in their fish.” The larger question is: Will they fork over a little more for traceable seafood, or continue to fall for a fishy story?

WE'LL BE BLUNT

It is astonishingly hard keeping a newsroom afloat these days, and we need to raise $253,000 in online donations quickly, by October 7.

The short of it: Last year, we had to cut $1 million from our budget so we could have any chance of breaking even by the time our fiscal year ended in June. And despite a huge rally from so many of you leading up to the deadline, we still came up a bit short on the whole. We can’t let that happen again. We have no wiggle room to begin with, and now we have a hole to dig out of.

Readers also told us to just give it to you straight when we need to ask for your support, and seeing how matter-of-factly explaining our inner workings, our challenges and finances, can bring more of you in has been a real silver lining. So our online membership lead, Brian, lays it all out for you in his personal, insider account (that literally puts his skin in the game!) of how urgent things are right now.

The upshot: Being able to rally $253,000 in donations over these next few weeks is vitally important simply because it is the number that keeps us right on track, helping make sure we don't end up with a bigger gap than can be filled again, helping us avoid any significant (and knowable) cash-flow crunches for now. We used to be more nonchalant about coming up short this time of year, thinking we can make it by the time June rolls around. Not anymore.

Because the in-depth journalism on underreported beats and unique perspectives on the daily news you turn to Mother Jones for is only possible because readers fund us. Corporations and powerful people with deep pockets will never sustain the type of journalism we exist to do. The only investors who won’t let independent, investigative journalism down are the people who actually care about its future—you.

And we need readers to show up for us big time—again.

Getting just 10 percent of the people who care enough about our work to be reading this blurb to part with a few bucks would be utterly transformative for us, and that's very much what we need to keep charging hard in this financially uncertain, high-stakes year.

If you can right now, please support the journalism you get from Mother Jones with a donation at whatever amount works for you. And please do it now, before you move on to whatever you're about to do next and think maybe you'll get to it later, because every gift matters and we really need to see a strong response if we're going to raise the $253,000 we need in less than three weeks.

payment methods

WE'LL BE BLUNT

It is astonishingly hard keeping a newsroom afloat these days, and we need to raise $253,000 in online donations quickly, by October 7.

The short of it: Last year, we had to cut $1 million from our budget so we could have any chance of breaking even by the time our fiscal year ended in June. And despite a huge rally from so many of you leading up to the deadline, we still came up a bit short on the whole. We can’t let that happen again. We have no wiggle room to begin with, and now we have a hole to dig out of.

Readers also told us to just give it to you straight when we need to ask for your support, and seeing how matter-of-factly explaining our inner workings, our challenges and finances, can bring more of you in has been a real silver lining. So our online membership lead, Brian, lays it all out for you in his personal, insider account (that literally puts his skin in the game!) of how urgent things are right now.

The upshot: Being able to rally $253,000 in donations over these next few weeks is vitally important simply because it is the number that keeps us right on track, helping make sure we don't end up with a bigger gap than can be filled again, helping us avoid any significant (and knowable) cash-flow crunches for now. We used to be more nonchalant about coming up short this time of year, thinking we can make it by the time June rolls around. Not anymore.

Because the in-depth journalism on underreported beats and unique perspectives on the daily news you turn to Mother Jones for is only possible because readers fund us. Corporations and powerful people with deep pockets will never sustain the type of journalism we exist to do. The only investors who won’t let independent, investigative journalism down are the people who actually care about its future—you.

And we need readers to show up for us big time—again.

Getting just 10 percent of the people who care enough about our work to be reading this blurb to part with a few bucks would be utterly transformative for us, and that's very much what we need to keep charging hard in this financially uncertain, high-stakes year.

If you can right now, please support the journalism you get from Mother Jones with a donation at whatever amount works for you. And please do it now, before you move on to whatever you're about to do next and think maybe you'll get to it later, because every gift matters and we really need to see a strong response if we're going to raise the $253,000 we need in less than three weeks.

payment methods

We Recommend

Latest

Sign up for our free newsletter

Subscribe to the Mother Jones Daily to have our top stories delivered directly to your inbox.

Get our award-winning magazine

Save big on a full year of investigations, ideas, and insights.

Subscribe

Support our journalism

Help Mother Jones' reporters dig deep with a tax-deductible donation.

Donate