SHRIMP IS THE new tuna. At least it ought to be. Remember the huge outcry about dolphins getting caught in tuna nets that started in the 1980s and eventually brought about the "dolphin-safe" label? Maybe it's because there's something about dolphins that really spoke to the aesthetic of the '80s (they're kind of the unicorns of the sea), but most likely it's because dolphins are just sexy animals – they cavort and make cute sounds. Dolphins must rank up there with pandas as the most effective poster animals for a cause. I'd wager that if the "fat innkeeper worm," say, were the by-catch of tuna fishing, the reaction and its effects on the way the tuna-fishing industry conducts business would not have been a landmark in the history of wildlife defense. What would the consumer appeal be of a Chicken of the Sea can with a silhouette of that animal and the statement "Worm Safe!" on the label?

Which is why I'm not surprised the horrors of the international shrimp-farming industry have failed to catch fire in the national imagination. Shrimps aren't especially adorable. And humans, both the perpetrators and the "by-catch" of this particular eco-economic debacle, may have lost whatever cachet we had, as we feature in a numbing infinity of images of famines, wars, and epidemics we afflict each other with.

The damage of shrimp farming leaves no shortage of possible imagery: decimated mangrove forests (nearly 40 percent of global mangrove disappearance is attributed to clear-cutting for shrimp farms); coastal communities devastated by cyclones and storms that would have been mitigated by the now destroyed mangroves; and rivers, other community water supplies, and thus agricultural land polluted by the pesticides, antibiotics, and salinization of nearby industrial shrimp pools.

Shrimp farming has been under scrutiny by Human Rights Watch for some time. The unsustainable practices of the past 30 years have brought coastal communities throughout Asia to the brink of ecological and economic collapse, resulting in violence and human rights abuses. "Smash and Grab: Conflict, Corruption and Human Rights Abuses in the Shrimp Farming Industry" is one of several reports by the Environmental Justice Foundation (this one coauthored with WildAid) on shrimp farming and shrimp trawling. Its cover photo is of a sobbing woman in a sari cradling her head. Shrimp farming disproportionately affects women. According to the EJF, "the link between the industry and sexual abuse is so strong" that women working in the industry may become sexually suspect and thus no longer viable marriage prospects. Shrimp farms also make inaccessible the mangrove forests where women fish for subsistence and income. Once the shrimp farm is kaput – and that happens within 5 to 10 years – the mangroves are gone and so is the diverse marine life that depended on them. What's left is a wasteland.

The irony is that when shrimp aquaculture, and aquaculture generally, first caught on in the 1970s, it was hailed as a revolution that would solve the problem of overfishing. And certainly aquaculture has had some positive results and can mean sustainability for some species (think oysters). But shrimps, like salmon, are a special case. Like salmon, which require (according to the Environmental Defense Fund) 2.8 pounds of wild fish to produce one pound of farm-raised salmon, shrimps are a feed-intensive crop. Also as with salmon farming, industrial shrimp farming can interfere with wild stock and pollute waters with effluent and antibiotics. Unlike salmon farming, shrimp farming has a neocolonial twist: the market for shrimp has exploded in the past couple decades, and most shrimps are farmed in tropical and subtropical Asian and Pacific Rim countries and exported to the United States, Europe, and Japan.

Industrial shrimp farming experienced a kind of gold rush when it first boomed, as shrimp farmers started raking in huge profits by local standards, and people converted rice paddies and cleared mangrove forests for shrimp farms in a mad tear, hoping to cash in, and to hell with the consequences. Various international aid organizations, such as the infamous World Bank, promoted shrimp farming as a means to producing a lucrative export, bringing cash to poor countries, and creating jobs in coastal communities. Alas, the benefits of this boom proved short-lived and the aftermath devastating.

So what can you do about it? Ask. If you're buying shrimp at a store, or ordering in a restaurant, ask where it comes from. If the waiter doesn't know, ask him or her to find out from the kitchen. Make a point of it; if they can't give you an answer, don't order it, and tell them why. The EJF has an online petition protesting industrial shrimp farming, as well as a sample letter you can convey to your local supermarket/seafood purveyor demanding (in a polite, British way) an account of its shrimp-purchasing policies. The URL is www.ejfoundation.org/shrimp/shrimp_help.html.

If you've been reading this and thinking you're off the hook because you only like prawns, forget it: shrimp is used here as an umbrella term, as the prawn-shrimp terminology division is blurry. The good news is, wild shrimps caught in the United States (preferably trapped, as this is the method with the lowest by-catch) are still OK to eat. And here's a tip from the Food Lover's Companion: "the colder the water, the smaller and more succulent the shrimp." Less is more. So who needs those tropical, antibiotic-gorged shrimps anyway?