Undersea cables are the spine of modern life. Imagine spending a day without being able to access anything digitally and you’ll see why. These cables require a specialist workforce to install and repair them, and if you haven’t heard of these workers it’s because they do their jobs well. But this little known profession is struggling to replenish its ageing ranks. That should worry the rest of us.
Nearly 600 (571, to be precise) data cables on the world’s seabeds power 21st-century life, and another 81 are being planned. Power cables, too, line the seafloor. That’s a lot of cable, and a whole lot more than when the internet was young.
Three decades ago, Steven Jones followed his father into subsea cable-laying. “It was a bit like a dead person’s deal: you had to wait for someone to retire to get a job,” he told me. “But then the field began expanding rapidly.” Rolling out cables (as thick as a thumb for data, or a forearm for power) on hundreds of miles of seabed along a detailed path is a precision job. Closer to shore, the cables have to be neatly buried. The job requires concentration and stamina, and it brings extraordinary rewards. “You’re involved in something physical and tangible,” Jones said. “You’re really making a mark.” Jones practically helped turn on some countries’ digital switch. When he moved from laying to repairs, it was a lot busier than in his father’s day. Back then, there were so few cables that weeks could go by without a call-up.
Today, subsea cable surgeons (as I call them) are busy, and not just because cables are a growing target for sabotage. This year alone, 31 data cables will be laid, including one 10,677 miles long connecting Singapore and the United States, and short ones such as the link between Sweden and Finland. New power cables are in the works too, including two that will bring electricity to Britain from Dutch and Belgian windfarms. And some 200 cables will need to be repaired. Digitalisation and the green transition (wind farms are connected to land via the seabed) mean more cables still.
That means even more installation and repair duties for cable workers. While the cables tend to be owned by larger companies (Google and Meta for data, big utilities for power), specialist cable companies do the laying and repairs. It is a surprisingly small world. Some firms specialise in installation, some in repairs, and some in both. The repair ships have to be able to attend to patients quickly. A UK-based repair ship will, for example, mostly look after cables around northern Europe. Installation ships crisscross the oceans.
Repairs are complex. The cable surgeons sail to the site where the cable operator has identified a fault (which can take a couple of days but may take weeks). Once there, they have to raise the cable from the seabed, which in deep water can be several thousand metres down. Grappling an inch-thick cable from above is a tricky task at any depth. Then they have to find the point of damage, another challenge, since the operator can typically only give them a broad estimate. And then, rain, shine or waves, they cure the cable on their floating hospital. They have to trust that passing vessels follow the rules and steer clear.
People still join the cable-surgeon world by word of mouth. Some youngsters follow in their parents’ footsteps, while older workers may join from shipping or telecoms operators. The average base salary for beginners is £28,000 per year, and the average cable technician earns £44,500. Some can earn £1,000 a day. The median graduate salary in the UK is £42,000.
But yesterday’s recruitment doesn’t match today’s demand. That’s because even though we depend on the subsea cable installation and repair sector every minute of every day, it’s a mostly invisible workforce. What’s more, the few specialist colleges that once offered cable-related training in the UK have closed. And, John Wrottesley, the executive director of the European Subsea Cables Association, told me, “A lot of people who came through those colleges are reaching retirement age.” Global shipping faces the same out-of-sight, out-of-mind dilemma, which is why it has come to depend on seafarers from the Philippines, India and Russia.
The high seas, meanwhile, are becoming more unruly. In the Red Sea, the Houthis have intensified their campaign against western-linked merchant ships; earlier this month, they sank two Greek-owned ships in attacks that killed nine crew members from the Philippines and Russia. The Baltic Sea, the Gulf of Finland and the English Channel have to endure constant transits by rule-breaking Russian shadow vessels. And Finland, Estonia, Taiwan and others have all seen subsea cables damaged under mysterious circumstances. Some regimes, in fact, seem determined to bring disorder to the high seas.
Such news has reached land dwellers, who may begin to appreciate the keyworkers of the oceans. Imagine if, say, Russia organised a string of cable cuts and no cable surgeons were available for repair duty. It’s a good thing people are discovering the workforce exists. Let’s hope it manages to match demand.
Elisabeth Braw is a senior fellow at the Atlantic Council
