Pride in Marine Science: A Conversation with Niru Dorrian

When Niru Dorrian wrote for us last November, it was a wide-angle essay on the state of marine science: the structural inequities, the underfunding of SDG 14, the way passion has been quietly expected to compensate for pay. One line stayed with readers.

Science alone won’t save the ocean. We need access, opportunity, and a culture of lifting each other up.

Niru Dorrian, SEVENSEAS Media, November 2025

For this Pride issue, we asked Niru to come back and turn the lens for an interview. The convictions are the same (equity, access, the cost of work the sector tends not to see), but the conversation is personal in a way the earlier piece was not. What does access look like when the offshore environment you’ve spent two decades in is also the one you weren’t open in for years? What does inclusion mean across a sector where being out is comfortable in one port and criminalised in another?

Niru is generous with the practical detail, from the meal times he avoided to the conversations he found himself outside of to the small acts of allyship that made the difference, and equally careful about what he doesn’t say. Visibility at sea is not the same conversation in every country, on every vessel, in every crew, and he refuses to flatten that.

Part One: The Work

Q1. Since your Cover Conservationist feature with us in November, what feels meaningfully different in your work, or in how you are thinking about it?

I have become increasingly conscious of the importance of accessibility and representation within marine science, and also of the cost of our collective efforts. There is often a huge amount of expectation placed upon marine scientists, conservationists, communicators, and advocates, and I think we need to speak more openly about wellbeing, burnout, and the sustainability of the people doing this work.

Much of my recent work through the UN Ocean Decade, IMarEST, and beyond has centred on capacity building, international collaboration, and creating pathways for people entering the sector from very different backgrounds and regions.

Over the past 20 years of my career, I have had the privilege of contributing to international marine projects, spending thousands of days at sea and working aboard well over 100 vessels across all oceans and multiple seas. Alongside offshore ecology and marine conservation work, I have continued to engage heavily in science communication, outreach, mentoring, and professional development initiatives.

Increasingly, I see those platforms not simply as opportunities to communicate science, but also as opportunities to help create representation, access, and encouragement for others entering the sector.

Q2. Your Ocean Decade work has put equity, particularly across the Global North and South, at the centre of how you talk about ocean science. Where does LGBTQ+ inclusion sit within that wider picture of equity, in your view?

For me, equity in ocean science is about ensuring people are able to contribute and thrive without unnecessary barriers placed in front of them. That applies across geography, economics, gender, culture, disability, and identity, including LGBTQ+ inclusion.

The ocean and blue economy sectors are international, but access to opportunities is still far from equal. Passport privilege, financial barriers, access to education, visas, offshore certifications, and professional networks can all shape someone’s career path. Those challenges often overlap with other aspects of identity and inclusion.

It is also important to recognise that LGBTQ+ inclusion looks very different depending on where someone lives or works. In some countries, being LGBTQ+ is still criminalised or can carry significant social and professional risks. The ability to be open in one workplace or project environment does not mean the same level of safety exists elsewhere. For some people, openness is not simply a question of comfort or confidence, but one of personal safety, employment security, or legal protection.

Over two decades offshore, often within predominantly male-dominated environments, I have also become very aware of wider inclusion challenges across the industry, particularly for women working at sea. Diverse teams consistently strengthen communication, professionalism, and crew culture, yet barriers to equal opportunity still exist across many areas of the sector.

For me, LGBTQ+ inclusion sits within that same wider conversation around fairness, mental health, safety, opportunity, and respect.

Q3. Marine science often involves long stretches in close quarters, in remote and isolated places. How does that environment shape who feels able to bring their full self to the work?

At sea and field-based work creates a very unique social environment. You are often living and working alongside the same small group of people for extended periods in isolated conditions. That can create strong camaraderie, but it can also amplify feelings of vulnerability for people who feel uncertain about how they will be perceived.

Earlier in my career, I was not open offshore. I had witnessed homophobia within the industry, and in close-quarter environments where you are sharing accommodation and working long shifts together, that can make people very cautious about how much of themselves they share.

Exclusion is not always overt.

Niru Dorrian

What can be difficult is that exclusion is not always overt. Very often, conversations are entirely normal and well intentioned, centred around wives, children, football, or other traditionally heteronormative social dynamics. For many people those are easy points of connection, but if you do not naturally fit within those expectations, they can become unexpectedly isolating over time.

I found myself avoiding busy meal times, crew-change social events, or situations involving alcohol simply to avoid conversations that made me feel uncomfortable or exposed. I think many LGBTQ+ professionals become highly aware of assessing whether an environment feels safe, supportive, or potentially hostile before deciding how much of themselves to share.

I have heard openly homophobic, transphobic, sexist, and racist comments while working offshore over the years, and even when those comments are not directed at you personally, they can still be deeply upsetting, especially when you do not see others stand up and challenge it. Experiences like that can make people constantly monitor what they say, how they behave, and whether it feels safe to engage socially at all.

At the same time, I have also seen how positive work environments can become when there is good leadership, visible diversity, and a respectful culture promoted. Thankfully, I do believe attitudes are improving across many parts of the sector.

Q4. You have shared that earlier in your career, being openly gay offshore was not something you felt safe doing. Without going further than feels right, what helped that change over time?

A large part of it in more recent years has been through working alongside colleagues and leaders whose actions demonstrated that professionalism, respect, and inclusion genuinely mattered. Allyship often shows itself in small but meaningful ways through language, behaviour, and whether people feel comfortable enough to exist without constantly filtering themselves.

Moving into senior roles also gave me greater confidence in my own professional identity. Earlier in your career, particularly offshore, there can sometimes be a fear of being reduced to a label or judged differently. Over time, I became more comfortable recognising that being authentic about who you are does not diminish professional value or expertise.

Those experiences also shaped how I approach mentoring and leadership. I know what it can feel like to be isolated or uncertain about whether you belong, particularly early in a career, and if I can help make that path less lonely for someone else, then that feels meaningful.

I also think visible allyship matters. Even something as simple as a rainbow pin badge or inclusive workplace language can quietly create reassurance for somebody entering a new environment or team where they may still be assessing whether it feels safe to be themselves.

Part Three: Allies and the Next Generation

Q5. You have spoken about senior colleagues who showed up as allies. In your view, what does meaningful allyship look like in this field, beyond the surface gestures?

Meaningful allyship is often quiet, consistent, and embedded within everyday professional culture. It is not simply about statements or symbolic gestures during awareness months. It is about creating environments where respect is expected, inappropriate behaviour is challenged, and people are treated fairly regardless of identity.

For me, allyship is also about showing up consistently. It is checking in, speaking up when something inappropriate is said, standing up for colleagues when needed, and helping create environments where people do not feel isolated or excluded.

Small actions can also have a meaningful impact. Inclusive language, visible support, and everyday professionalism can quietly communicate safety and acceptance, particularly within unfamiliar offshore or operational environments where people are often trying to assess whether they can comfortably be themselves.

Q6. For an early-career LGBTQ+ marine scientist looking at offshore or field-based work right now, what would you most want them to know?

I would want them to know that there absolutely is space for them within this sector, and that their identity does not limit their ability to succeed, lead, or contribute meaningfully to marine science.

At the same time, I think it is important to acknowledge that not every environment or workplace will feel equally supportive, and it is okay to be thoughtful about your own boundaries and wellbeing. Finding good mentors, supportive colleagues, and professional networks and communities can make an enormous difference in your career.

I also think representation matters enormously. Seeing LGBTQ+ professionals as role models working openly, where safe to do so, across marine science, offshore industries, conservation, and leadership roles can help early-career people recognise that there is space for them too.

I have also seen genuinely supportive crew members and leadership offshore, and those positive environments are becoming more visible across many parts of the industry.

I would encourage people not to underestimate the value of their perspective and lived experience. Diverse teams strengthen science, communication, and leadership because they bring different ways of thinking and problem solving. The sector still has progress to make, but there are many genuinely supportive people working within it who want to see positive change continue.

Part Four: Ahead

Q7. If a reader takes one thing from this piece, what would you want it to be?

I would hope readers come away recognising that inclusion and diversity are not separate from the future of ocean science. They are part of building stronger, healthier, and more sustainable professional communities.

Marine science and conservation depend upon collaboration, trust, and shared purpose across many disciplines, cultures, and lived experiences. When people feel respected, valued, and able to contribute fully, the entire sector benefits.

Sustainability applies to people too.

Niru Dorrian

I also think we need to remember that sustainability applies to people too. Ocean science, conservation, and offshore environmental work can be deeply meaningful, but they can also be emotionally demanding and exhausting. If we want people to stay in this field, lead well, and keep contributing over decades, we need cultures that support wellbeing, not just productivity.

I hope this piece encourages conversations that continue beyond Pride Month itself. Progress often happens gradually through everyday actions, supportive leadership, visible allyship, and creating environments where people feel respected and included.

Q8. Is there anything else you would like to add?

One thing I would add is that marine science and the offshore sector have changed significantly over the course of my career, and I do think there are encouraging signs of progress across many areas. Conversations around inclusion, wellbeing, representation, and professional culture are becoming more visible and more normalised than they once were, particularly among newer generations entering the field.

At the same time, there is still real value in continuing these discussions openly and thoughtfully, especially within offshore and field-based industries where these topics have historically been less visible or less comfortably discussed.

I am also incredibly grateful to the colleagues, friends, and allies I have worked alongside throughout my career who have consistently shown kindness, acceptance, encouragement, and support. Many of those professional relationships have become genuine friendships built on trust, shared opportunity, and people continually showing up for one another both professionally and personally. I am equally grateful for the support and encouragement of my partner at home. Offshore and international work can place real pressures on relationships, time, and wellbeing, and having that support system has meant more than I can properly express.

What I hope pieces like this ultimately show is that marine science is strengthened by diversity of experience, perspective, and background. The ocean sector depends upon collaboration, empathy, resilience, and trust, and creating environments where people feel respected and able to contribute fully benefits everyone.

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About Niru Dorrian

Niru Dorrian is a multi-award-winning marine mammal specialist, Chartered Marine Scientist, and Fellow of the Institute of Marine Engineering, Science and Technology (IMarEST) and Fellow of the British Ecological Society. He serves as IMarEST’s appointed UN Ocean Decade Ambassador, where he leads and supports endorsed Decade Actions focused on capacity building, inclusion, and marine environmental innovation. Niru has created industry-leading UN Ocean Decade-endorsed Training Programmes, co-founded and chairs the IMarEST Marine Mammal Special Interest Group, and has led various international working groups, research projects, strategic offshore ecology programmes, and founded global partnerships. A champion of ethics, equity, and collaboration, Niru is dedicated to shaping the future of ocean science through actions that connect people, policy, and purpose.

SEVENSEAS Media thanks Niru Dorrian for returning to our pages for this Pride issue interview.