Antarctic transgressions
An unsolved death. Assault with a deadly weapon. Lots of alcohol-fueled misbehaviour. It’s quite a rap sheet for a continent where almost nobody lives.
Antarctica is a vast place, nearly twice the size of Australia, but it has no permanent population, other than a few thousand scientists and support staff members from dozens of countries who are sent temporarily to conduct research.
Still, anywhere there are humans, there are bound to be violent acts and petty offences, and that raises the question: how are criminal cases handled where sovereignty is a muddle and there are no permanent courts, prisons or police?
Under the terms of the 53-nation Antarctic Treaty, workers accused of serious crimes at a research base are subject to the jurisdiction of their home country.
Robberies are rare because people can’t bring much into Antarctica, and there’s almost no use for money. Drinking is common, though, and that sometimes leads to fights or incidents of indecent exposure (brrr).
Minor offences are often dealt with simply by firing the culprits and sending them home.
Where it gets complicated is with crimes involving citizens from multiple countries.
“As soon as anything touching on Antarctic territorial sovereignty arises, one is, frankly, in a hall of mirrors,” said Alan Hemmings, a polar legal expert who used to command a British base in Antarctica.
Seven countries — Argentina, Australia, Britain, Chile, France, New Zealand and Norway — assert claims of sovereignty over parts of the demilitarized continent.
The rest of the world says no nation owns any inch of it. When Rodney Marks, an Australian, died in 2000 at one of the bases, his body was flown to New Zealand for an autopsy, which concluded that he had died of methanol poisoning.
Police never determined whether his death was an accident, a suicide or perhaps Antarctica’s only recorded murder.