New Zealand’s ‘Crude’ Revival: The Crown Minerals Amendment Act and its Environmental Spillover

BY WENDY ZHANG

Introduction

In April 2018, former Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern’s Government halted all new offshore permits beyond Taranaki, putting a permanent pause on exploratory drilling – a move applauded worldwide as a generational climate commitment. Two election cycles later, in August 2025, current Prime Minister Christopher Luxon’s coalition enacted the Crown Minerals Amendment Act, reopening Aotearoa New Zealand’s waters to petroleum exploration. However, this Act does more than undo a ban – it reshapes how we govern our environment, how communities are heard, and what future we choose.

 

The Repeal

The Crown Minerals Amendment Act upends the safeguards the Crown Minerals (Petroleum) Amendment Act 2018 put in place, effectively reopening New Zealand’s deep-sea frontiers to oil and gas drilling. What was once a clear prohibition on new offshore permits outside onshore Taranaki has been swept away, and the Act’s purpose has reverted from ‘managing’ to ‘promoting’ petroleum exploration. Permit allocations are no longer limited to the competitive tender process known as ‘block offers’. The Government proposes the current process imposes excessive costs on industry and discourages investment in exploration and production. Instead, the Act re-establishes a pre-2013 ‘priority-in-time’ method that allows companies to apply on a first-come, first-served basis.

 

Additionally, prior to the 2018 ban, prospectors could keep seismic and well-log data confidential for 15 years under the Crown Minerals Act 1991 to on-sell and attract investment. Now, this period is extended to 21 years, compensating those who lost market demand during the six-year freeze. While this protects investor interests, it delays public access to important geological information for over two decades. Without timely access to such information, scientists and communities may be unable to fully assess environmental risks, prepare evidence-based submissions, or challenge proposed drilling, thus narrowing transparency and democratic oversight.

 

The Act even carves out a simplified permitting tier aimed at small-scale gold prospectors, allowing limited gold mining without the full regulatory obligations applied to commercial operators. At the same time, financial-security requirements for decommissioning are loosened and liability for future cleanup is pinned only on the last permit-holder, not the Crown. Finally, most conservation lands have become fair game for petroleum activities (save for sites like Mount Taranaki, which is protected by Schedule 4 of the Act). 

 

Resources Minister Shane Jones claims these changes are necessary to address Aotearoa’s dwindling natural gas reserves and looming energy insecurity. He argues, “natural gas is critical to keeping our lights on”, pointing to wind, solar, and hydro’s intermittency. However, framing the Act as mere “lights on” pragmatism hides its true agenda: marketing our seas to be more appealing to international oil giants.

 

Criticisms

At its core, the Act is a structural pivot. Petroleum exploration is elevated to a government priority, and industry input is embedded into the legislative process. The Act’s decommissioning clauses have drawn particular fire, reversing hard-learned lessons: when Tamarind Resources abandoned the Tui field in 2019, taxpayers were left footing a $440 million cleanup. Consequently, the previous Labour Government responded with stricter rules to avoid a repeat and ensure companies pay their way. However, the 2025 Act reverses that approach by relaxing those guarantees, limiting the Crown’s ability to recover costs, and leaving future cleanups in murky territory.

 

In articulating the balance the Government is trying to strike, Minister Jones favourably referenced the North Sea, where thousands of oil wells remain, stating that New Zealand should not make the mistake of “overburden[ing] its people” with oil well clean-up obligations. However, this comparison falls flat as in the North Sea and North East Atlantic, offshore installations must be dismantled onshore under international law – specifically the Oslo Paris Commission Decision 98/3. That leaves the companies to foot the bill, not the taxpayer. Additionally, there is a question of who Minister Jones refers to as “our people” when discussing overburdening them. This sentiment is echoed in the public’s concern that loosening abandonment commitments could again leave taxpayers with significant cleanup costs should a company fail.

 

Furthermore, the Act’s passage under urgency undermines public trust and democratic fairness. With just five days (including a weekend) for public submissions, there was little time for communities, iwi, scientists, or environmental advocates to have their say. “So us ordinary people were given 48 hours to submit, but the industry got time, access and special privileges? So much for democracy,” observed one reader in Greenpeace Aotearoa’s comments. This rushed process raises concerns about adequately considering environmental and public interest arguments during the legislative process.

 

Environmental Concerns

Former Energy Minister Megan Woods, who introduced the 2018 ban, warned this reversal “will lock in emissions for decades to come”. This echoes the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment’s estimate that New Zealand would emit an additional 51 million tonnes of CO2 by 2050 if the development of new oil and gas fields proceeds. Those emissions would obliterate budgets under the Zero Carbon Act and jeopardise achieving our Paris Agreement targets.

 

Furthermore, offshore drilling is not just a climate risk but a direct threat to marine ecosystems and coastal communities. Exploratory wells carry the highest risk of failure, as depicted in the 2010 BP Deepwater Horizon disaster, which saw 650,000 tonnes of oil spilled into the Gulf of Mexico over 87 days, killing eleven workers and devastating fisheries, marine life, and communities.

 

Greenpeace’s modelling of a potential Anadarko blowout near the Canterbury Basin projected that oil slicks could reach the Chatham Islands shores and Kaikōura’s whale habitat within ten weeks. Deepwater Horizon used around 4,100km of booms and 6,500 vessels – Maritime NZ’s oil response plan, by contrast, is designed for spills of up to 3,500 tonnes and relies on three “Oil Response Vehicles”. Put simply, New Zealand lacks the ships, booms, or expertise to manage a runaway spill.

 

Justice for Oceans, Justice for People

For those who fought for the ban, the stakes remain clear. Green Party co-leader Chloe Swarbrick emphasised “the science is incredibly clear” and when the repeal passed its first reading, she slammed Ministers for “tipping oil and gas onto the climate crisis fire, lining the pockets of fossil-fuel companies, while everyone else will pick up the bill”.

 

Iwi leaders have also walked out of a Ministerial hui, protesting rollbacks on marine-title thresholds and Treaty principles. Yet, the Bill sailed through without seeing genuine, Treaty-honouring engagement on climate or cultural impacts. The sidelining of tangata whenua voices is not mere oversight; it flouts the Crown’s duty of kaitiakitanga under Te Tiriti o Waitangi. From Ōkārito to Kaikōura, fishers, tourism operators, and low-income whānau lack the funds and legal expertise to challenge multi-million dollar oil giants. When those least responsible for the climate crisis bear its heaviest costs and Treaty partners are sidelined in decision-making, we witness environmental injustice.

 

Conclusion

The Crown Minerals Amendment Act is more than a legislative update. At a time when climate science urges a shift away from fossil fuels, the Government has opted to drill deeper. We fought for the 2018 ban, but now we must consider fighting harder to protect what that ban represented: climate action, environmental stewardship, and intergenerational justice. There is more at stake beneath the surface than just oil; it is our integrity and with it, the well-being of our marine life, coastal whānau, and climate future. We cannot afford to step backwards now.

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