The problem is not just a matter of powerful fishing countries like Norway and Japan outmaneuvering the conservation lobby, but a fundamental shortcoming of international agreements like the Antarctic Treaty. Because the conservation commission requires a unanimous vote for any sort of environmental action, it can be held hostage by a single party.

At the recent annual meeting, the commission again ignored scientific advice and struck down a market-based measure to fight rogue fisheries. The plan would have allowed nations to reject fish imports from countries that allow illegal vessels into their ports, but Argentina scuttled it, arguing that it was a threat to international law.

Other measures, like a blacklist of boats connected to illegal fishing, are rarely enforced and easily circumvented. For instance, when a Russian vessel called the Volna was placed on a provisional list in 2006, Russia disputed the evidence and vetoed the decision. New Zealand called Russia’s move a threat to the Antarctic Treaty system. But even if the boat had been added to the blacklist, it is doubtful that it would have been denied service at ports. According to a report from the Pew Environment Group, since 2004 blacklisted vessels have made 27 visits to ports that are committed to the treaty system.

By contrast, many countries that have their own island territories in the region have fought back against illegal fishing. In the 1990s, an estimated one-third of the toothfish harvest around Heard Island, an Australian territory, was illegally obtained; but since Australia and France, which controls other nearby islands, stepped up enforcement in 2002, that number has dropped to about one-tenth. Recently an Australian court ruled that it was illegal for Japanese boats to hunt whales within 200 nautical miles of Australia’s Antarctic land claim.

Perhaps it is time that other nations defend their own Antarctic claims. This would no doubt put the agreement in jeopardy, but rather than bowing down to an international body that has failed in its stated mission, individual states could negotiate their own regulatory and licensing agreements for fisheries. For example, New Zealand would be within its right to unilaterally establish a much-needed marine protected area in the Ross Sea. The Chileans and the Argentines, whose claims overlap along a peninsula south of the Falkland Islands, could hash out their own deals. Norway might well fish its own waters to depletion, but that would be the price of environmental gains elsewhere.

Most conservationists and fans of international law would be horrified by the idea of ditching the Antarctic Treaty. But consider this: the Spitsbergen Convention did not survive  since 1920 the island has effectively become part of Norway. Yet Norway, which has dug in its heels at nearly every meeting of the Antarctic conservation commission, has shown far more concern over an island it considers its own. It has established environmental protections at Spitsbergen, shut hazardous mining operations and reined in Russian fishing trawlers. It’s not a perfect system, but it might be a better one for Antarctica than the toothless treaty that many will be celebrating Tuesday.