I'm currently reading the book "The Sounds of Life" by Karen Bakker. Chapter 2 describes in great detail how bioacoustics and especially passive acoustic monitoring emerged as a means to measure the size of bowhead whale populations in the Arctic. Thereby offering a replacement for the visual surveying methods that were the standard before.

According to Bakker and the works she references (the detail in which she names all her references is so so helpful to be able to follow her down these rabbit holes) this transition was very much the result of the indigenous Iñupiat communities that wanted to continue their sustenance hunting traditions. And while that still entails killing the animals there is a massive difference. Industrial whaling is what drove these species to the edge of extinction. Not the hunting traditions carried out for centuries by the indigenous communities.

But there are two other parts that I find really moving on a personal level.

First, I had the privilege of starting my work in bioacoustics working on humpback whales. I was always interested in biology but never felt like it was ever taught to me in a manner that made me particularly interested to read more into it. But when I started my masters thesis on building a machine learning detector for North Atlantic humpback whale song, I was fascinated and started reading a lot about subjects I knew very little about before. I wanted to understand the differences between different whale species. Between toothed and baleen whales. Why whales breach, how their body shape influences the fluid mechanics of their movement and how that impacts their behaviour. How social structures in whales differ. And much more. Now, I'm not a marine biologist and I'm still a novice to this subject but I found it fascinating. And while I work (primarily) on terrestrial bioacoustics now during my PhD, I do have to say that marine bioacoustics fascinates me on a different level. So reading these descriptions and details about these whale populations just always leaves me in awe of these animals.

And the second part is the hunting. Of course there is not much glamorizing a hunting experience for me. I wouldn't want to hunt a whale. But I also don't live in the Arctic and have to think about feeding an entire village for several months. But putting that aside what is more fascinating to me is the relationship between the hunter and the prey. There's something super intimate about that relationship. I've obviously never experienced that while hunting but since I've gotten more and more into wildlife photography I feel like I can relate with the fascination of observing your target and being so patient until you get the right moment and the right shot. In my case a picture rather than a corpse. But I do think seeking that moment out and being patient and silent to get to that moment is something that feels somewhat similar between hunting for food and hunting for a photo. In the book there's this sentence that I really like: "The attunement of a hunter arises from the intimacy of the hunt". And then she goes on to explain how much the Iñupiat would ensure that the vibe on boat between the hunters was good and that they were silent and showing the utmost respect for their prey. I think theres something very beautiful in that.

On the final pages of the second chapter she then explains that the Iñupiat go so far that they believe that humans are capable of sharing a consciousness with the bowhead whale's that they hunt. And while I have trouble relating to that, I do think that this concept that she calls cetaceousness - the shared consciousness between whales and humans - is something that I find very moving. And even more so given my own fascination for whales.

I think nothing can replace just time spent observing and listening to something. And this chapter of the book highlights how scientists had their hypothesis based on data they collected and based on that they made assumptions. But the Iñupiat had lived alongside these species for centuries and so while they didn't have the data to back it up, their knowledge about the species could never be matched by some scholars learning about these things in far away places. Not that that's a bad thing. I learned everything I know about these animals from books and talking to people but have spent very little time doing fieldwork and actually experiencing these animals. But I think we should be humble towards people that actually live in these environments and observe things first hand.

I think this same concept could be applied to so many things. Essentially our degrees and books and podcasts and tv shows and stuff make us really good generalists. We have a wealth of knowledge about a variety of things, know how these things work together and how they developed throughout the history. But it's a very different form of information than just watching or listening in real time. With no opportunity to speed up the process. I that's really where understanding happens. And where you're able to notice new phenomena.