As the next generation turns away from life at sea, industry leaders reflect on what it would take to make seafaring something parents once again want for their children. The second instalment in our brand-new Seafarers magazine.
Ask anyone who’s spent time at sea and they’ll tell you: shipping isn’t just a job, it’s a calling. But somewhere between the automation drive, the endless compliance paperwork, and the isolation of the pandemic years, that calling has grown faint.
Across the industry, there’s a quiet admission — if you wouldn’t want your own son or daughter to join a ship, what does that say about the state of the profession? Many of us have been at shipping conferences where no hands are raised when a moderator asks if you’d be happy seeing your offspring head out for a career at sea.
For many, it’s a matter of lost allure. “We’ve made shipping efficient,” one senior manager remarks, “but we’ve stripped away its sense of adventure.” The digital bridge and satellite link have brought connectivity but not connection. Seafaring today is safer, cleaner, and smarter than ever — yet it can feel lonelier.
Karin Orsel of MF Shipping Group from the Netherlands believes the heart of the issue lies in recognition. “We have to show that being a seafarer is not a fallback career,” she argues. “It’s a profession that demands skill, resilience, and intellect.” Her company now promotes mentorship and visible career paths from cadet to captain — and beyond, to roles ashore.
Others are blunter. “The problem isn’t the sea,” says recruitment expert Ryan Kumar. “It’s the story we tell about it.” He points out that shipping’s public image hasn’t kept pace with its technology. “You can talk about AI, green fuels, and digital twins all you like — but until parents think of a ship as a place of opportunity, not hardship, we’re fighting a losing battle.”
For V.Group’s chief operating officer Allan Falkenberg, the industry’s own fragmentation is part of the problem. “We need to rebuild the professional trust and respect that make crews function as cohesive units,” he says. “You can’t attract talent to a profession that doesn’t seem to respect itself.”
That respect begins onboard. Better connectivity, proper rest, fair rotation, and decent cabins should not be seen as luxuries. As one shipmanager puts it, “We used to say, ‘It’s not a cruise ship.’ Maybe it’s time we stopped saying that.”
The generational shift is already under way. Younger recruits see seafaring as one stop in a broader career, not a lifelong commitment. As Eastern Pacific Shipping’s CEO Cyril Ducau notes, “We have to build bridges between sea and shore, so that people move fluidly between them. That’s how you retain talent — by giving them a future.”
Yet many warn that the industry has become overly reliant on short-term fixes. “You can’t keep promising training and welfare programmes if they only exist in PowerPoint,” says one crewing director. “Young people spot inauthenticity a mile off.”
Bernhard Schulte Shipmanagement’s Eva Rodriguez frames it more constructively: “The next generation wants purpose,” she says. “We can offer that — moving the world’s goods safely, sustainably, and together. But we have to tell that story better.”
There are, however, glimmers of renewal. Initiatives pairing cadets with mentors, virtual-reality training tools, and the rise of fleet-wide wellbeing programmes show a sector learning, slowly, to value its people again. The Mission to Seafarers’ Peter Rouch sees hope in that shift. “We’re rediscovering that welfare isn’t charity,” he says. “It’s strategy.”Still, the question remains uncomfortably personal. Would you want your own child to go to sea? For many senior executives, the answer comes after a pause. Some say yes — with caveats. Others admit they would hesitate. But all agree that the industry must reach a point where that hesitation disappears.
Because if shipping can’t inspire its own families, it won’t inspire the next generation either.
*Source: Flash 247.com
