Southern Flounder, Broken Science, and the Death of Common Sense
By a Fisherman Who Cares About the Fish--and the Folks Who Eat Them
Now, every year, like clockwork, the North Carolina Division of Marine Fisheries (NCDMF) announces a short window when people can fish for Southern flounder. This year, it's a two-week season in early September—just 14 days, one fish per person, per day.
For many coastal families, it’s a ritual—flounder on the dock, flounder in the pan. But behind this tiny window lies a story that’s anything but simple. It’s a story about flawed science, misguided management, and a bureaucracy that’s turned one of our most abundant, wide-ranging species into a symbol of regulatory dysfunction.
If you fish, you’re likely angry. If you eat fish, you’re probably confused. If you don’t pay attention, you may have no idea that some of the best seafood in the South is being regulated into absurdity. But the truth matters—and the truth about flounder needs telling.
A Fish That Ranges Far, but Is Managed Like It’s Trapped in a Box
Southern flounder are not just “North Carolina fish.” They range from Texas to at least North Carolina, with evidence that their habitat is expanding northward as waters warm. They live in brackish creeks, but they also swim well offshore. Their range crosses state lines, temperature zones, and habitat types.
And yet, North Carolina’s management treats them like they belong to one zip code.
We regulate Southern flounder as if North Carolina is the whole story. We calculate quotas based on incomplete data, then divide those quotas between recreational and commercial sectors. We impose rigid rules that ignore regional migrations, environmental trends, and the broader ecosystem.
The irony? This isn’t how we’ve managed flounder for most of our history. The quota system was introduced only recently, pushed forward by pressure campaigns from politically active groups like the Coastal Conservation Association (CCA) and the North Carolina Wildlife Federation (NCWF), who use incomplete science to justify ever-tightening restrictions.
Flawed Science, Manufactured Crisis
Southern flounder are classified as “overfished.” But what does that even mean?
Fisheries managers admit they don’t fully understand the stock. They don’t have good data on spawning stock biomass. They don’t know how two other flounder species—which overlap with Southern flounder—interact range-wide. They don’t know how environmental changes—like warming waters and predator imbalances—affect reproduction and recruitment survival.
What they do know is this: When they plug the data into their models, the results look bad. And since fishing is the only variable they can control, they blame the fishermen—again.
This is what passes for science these days: incomplete ecosystem data run through narrow mathematical models, followed by draconian management measures that hit working-class watermen, seafood consumers, and Recreational Flounder eating families the hardest.
The Tragic Biology of a Quota-Based System
Want another dose of irony? Let’s talk about sex. Southern flounder exhibit temperature-dependent sex determination—a biological trait where warmer waters produce more males. Males, it turns out, rarely grow over 14 inches. Females are the big ones—the fish over 15 inches that people want to catch and keep.
So what does the NCDMF do?
They set the minimum size limit at 15 inches.
That means the entire regulated harvest—commercial and recreational—is focused almost exclusively on females, the same ones that drive reproduction and are most important to the population.
Then, they open a short, intense season—often just a few days or weeks—where every fisherman, from pier anglers to giggers to pros, is fishing on the same spawning females at the same time. It’s like a reproductive demolition derby.
Add to that a one-fish recreational limit, and you’ve built a system that encourages people to target the biggest fish possible. Throw in a few deep-hooked discards and you’ve got another biological disaster: dead female flounder that don’t count toward anyone’s dinner.
Catch-and-release anglers, meanwhile, pat themselves on the back while continuing to fish out of season, often entering catch and release tournaments for a species they claim to protect, contributing to dead discards that don’t feed anyone.
In many countries, catch-and-release fishing is illegal—not because it’s ineffective, but because it’s cruel and wasteful. Here in North Carolina, we call it conservation.
Who Pays the Price?
When recreational flounder anglers exceeded their quota in 2023, they were penalized by losing the entire 2024 season. Meanwhile, commercial fishermen—whose catch is tracked in real time,-were shut down after just a few days.
Seafood markets were flooded. Prices tanked. Families lost income. Consumers lost access. Meanwhile, the fishery got no healthier.
Now, under the latest vote by the Marine Fisheries Commission, we’re headed toward a 50/50 quota split between commercial and recreational sectors. Sounds fair, right?
Except that a huge chunk of the recreational quota will be eaten up by dead discards—fish that are hooked, released, and die anyway. Not fish that feed people. Not fish that get counted. Just loss, all around.
This is what happens when quota-based systems are applied to high-fecundity, wide-ranging species with shifting biology and incomplete science. The system isn’t responsive. It isn’t flexible. It just adds up the damage and calls it management.
A History of Hijacked Process
The current flounder plan didn’t happen by accident. It was driven by politics, not science.
When North Carolina developed its last Flounder Fishery Management Plan, it was the recreational representatives—particularly those aligned with CCA—who pushed for the most severe reductions. These weren’t anglers who feed their families with fish. Many sport fisherman don’t even keep their catch. Their version of stewardship is making sure nobody else gets to harvest either.
Had these conservation-minded anglers worked with commercial fishermen, we might have staved off the worst management ideas. Instead, the process became a rubber stamp for predetermined bad decisions.
Then came House Bill 442. Originally designed to bring more accountability and transparency to the Division of Marine Fisheries, it was hijacked by anti-trawl lobbyists who slapped on a ban against shrimp trawling in internal waters—with zero consideration for how that would devastate food production and working families.
Make no mistake: These groups aren’t just anti-commercial. They’re anti-seafood. They don’t want anyone harvesting fish—not giggers, not netters, not boat captains, not dockside fishmongers. And they certainly don’t care about consumers who rely on commercial fishermen to get fresh, affordable fish to their table.
A Broken System, from Hook to Policy
Today’s flounder regulations are a masterclass in how not to manage a fishery.
We focus all harvest on reproductive females, then panic when the spawning numbers are low.
We rely on one-size-fits-all quotas for a species that migrates across states and habitat types.
We punish honest fishermen while rewarding performative conservation and bureaucratic box-checking.
We weaponize incomplete science, confuse the public, and let political pressure override ecological nuance.
No wonder trust in the system is eroding. No wonder recreational and commercial fishermen are fighting instead of finding common ground. No wonder fewer young people are entering the trade.
It’s hard to imagine a more dysfunctional scenario—but here we are.
So What’s the Path Forward?
We don’t need more division. We don’t need more finger-pointing. And we definitely don’t need more bureaucrats telling coastal families how and when they can fish.
Here’s what we do need:
1. A New Kind of Science
Let’s shift from checkbox models to curiosity-driven, ecosystem-wide studies. Stop obsessing over discards and quotas. Start asking: Why are flounder shifting range? How are other species interacting? What role does warming play in reproduction?
2. Flexible, Seasonal Effort Controls
Abandon the flawed quota system. Use seasonal windows, gear-specific rules, and regional effort controls that protect spawners without crashing access or flooding the market.
3. Size Limits That Make Biological Sense
Rethink minimum sizes that force pressure on the largest, most fecund females. A slot limit system, already familiar to many anglers, could protect breeders while allowing a sustainable harvest of mid-sized fish.
4. Unified, Inclusive Stakeholder Voting
End the capture of the process by narrow interest groups. Build coalitions of conservation-minded anglers and commercial fishers who care about feeding people, not just scoring points.
5. Transparency and Public Access to Data
No more “just trust us” from managers. Make your case for the harsh laws, be forthcoming where the data gaps lie, admit that fishing pressure may have nothing to do with stocks of high fecundity species. Let every North Carolinian see what we’re managing, why we’re managing it, and how it affects the plate, the paycheck, and the public trust.
Final Cast
Southern flounder are still out there. The water’s warm, the creeks are alive, and the fish are moving. What’s broken isn’t the species—it’s the way we’ve chosen to manage it.
We can do better. We must do better. Not just for the fishermen. Not just for the scientists. But for the millions of North Carolinians who’ve never caught a flounder in their lives—yet still have a right to access, enjoy, and eat what their coastal waters produce.
Because seafood isn’t a trophy. It’s food. And managing food means keeping it alive—for everyone.