Gone Fishing

Recreational cruelty: Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse 

proudly showing off a catch on their popular TV show, 

Gone Fishing, as the poor carp struggles to breathe 

 

 

All of a sudden, there seem to be a shoal of programmes on TV that involve the gentle art of fly fishing, with even elderly comedians Mortimer and Whitehouse getting in on the act [1]. 

 

Only it's not such a gentle art - certainly not for the fish, who is subject to the violence of being hooked, reeled in, and manhandled. Despite recent research indicating that these beautiful and intelligent creatures experience fear and react to pain in similar ways to birds and mammals [2], there are still anglers who dispute or deny the cruelty involved in their recreational pursuit [3].  

 

We don't keep the fish out of the water for long and always put them back unharmed, is the familiar line of argument. But this ignores the trauma that the fish suffers and overlooks the fact that the hook used to catch them often causes damage to the mouth, thus making it difficult (and painful) for the fish to feed after their release.

 

Of course, Nietzsche would point out that just because something causes suffering that's no reason not to do it; i.e., the fact that pain hurts is not an argument [4]. Further, there might even be wisdom to be found in pain (as in pleasure); fish, for example, might have learnt something from the experience of being caught over the centuries by anglers which has ultimately helped them survive as a species. 

 

But surely fish experience enough danger in their daily life under the water to keep them on their guard, without human beings adding to their fear, stress, and suffering. Nietzsche makes a good case for the non-alleviation of natural hardship and danger, but that doesn't mean we should go out of our way to increase or intensify the pain felt by other animals.  

 

Otherwise, we must say yes to badger-baiting, fox hunting, and bullfighting as well as what Byron described as the cruellest, the coldest, and the stupidest of pretend sports - fishing [5].

 

 

Notes

 

[1] To watch episodes of Mortimer and Whitehouse: Gone Fishing go to BBC Online: click here. 

      The series has received widespread praise for its warmth, charm, and gentle humour. Many critics even find it poignant as the two comics reflect on their own mortality (both men having recently undergone heart surgery). No one, as far as I can see, stops to give a thought to the fish whose participation in the show, whilst central, is non-consensual and one might ask if the real joy of the show is listening to two old friends reminisce about the good old days, whilst contemplating the beauty and tranquility of their surroundings, then why do they need to also catch fish for our entertainment.   

[2] Whether fish experience pain in the same way that we do is a contentious issue (especially amongst those who subscribe to some form of human exceptionalism). But it seems fairly obvious, both from observation and from knowing what we do about their brains and nervous system, that they certainly don't like having sharp metal hooks pierce their mouths and being hauled out of the water into an environment in which they cannot breathe (and which can cause their gills to collapse).   

 

[3] It's worth remembering that fishing litter left behind by careless anglers also presents a danger to other forms of wildlife, including birds and small mammals.  

 

[4] See Nietzsche, The Gay Science, IV. 318. 

[5] For the record, I'm not - unlike members of PETA - arguing for fishing to be outlawed. But I do think people should be actively encouraged to treat fish with care and respect, even if - as D. H. Lawrence says - we may never know their gods. I develop this idea in a post published last year on the intelligence of fish: click here. 

 

Thanks to David Brock for inspiring this post.

 

  

On the Intelligence of Fish

I'm not as dumb as you look ...

I.

I suppose the cognitive ability of mammals and birds is now pretty much an established fact; that is to say, human beings have finally conceded that they are not the only creatures that possess minds and know how to think and use language, etc.

Unfortunately, however, there's still lingering prejudice when it comes to other classes of animal - fish, for example, are still not accorded the respect they deserve and many people continue to subscribe to the belief that they and other acquatic lifeforms are intellectually inferior to terrestrial organisms.

One doesn't have to be an ichthyophile - or even particularly fond of our underwater friends - to be irritated by the injustice of this and the anthropocentric conceit it displays ... 

II.

To say it loud and clear right from the start: fish are not stupid!

In fact, in many areas, such as memory, their cognitive abilities match or exceed those of animals usually ranked above them in the hierarchy of intelligence constructed by man; numerous studies have shown that they can retain information for months or even years - and this includes goldfish!

And whilst they typically have quite small brains (relative to body size), some species have extremely large brains (again, relative to body size) and are capable of learning complex tasks and forming cognitive maps. (There are some people who can barely manage to do this.) 

Of course, having only mouths in which to hold and manipulate objects (no fingers, no hands or feet), severely restricts their use of tools. But some species of fish use shells and rocks in ways that might surprise many and in one recent laboratory study, Atlantic cod were trained to pull a string in order to release food from a feeding machine. Also, let's not ignore the fact that fish can construct sophisticated shelters and nesting places ...

Such behaviour may be innate, rather than learned, but it's still impressive: for we're not just talking holes in the sand here, but deep and extensive excavations reinforced with coral fragments; beautiful-looking pebble mounds and sand towers; nests made from vegetation, glued together with bodily fluids specially secreted for the job and decorated with coloured algae and/or bits of artificial material that now litter their world just like ours. The fact that fish will often make repairs and build extensions (quicker than my next-door-neighbour) further suggests considerable DIY know-how.

Moving on, we come to the question of social intelligence (i.e., the capacity to know themselves and recognise others) ...

It seems that fish can remember things about other individuals; whether they are friend or foe, for example - something that is obviously quite crucial in a world of dog eat dogfish - and this causes them to modify their own behaviour accordingly (including ways that might even be thought of as manipulative and deceptive, though probably it's going a bit far to say they possess a theory of mind).

Although rare, there are instances of fish cooperating with others of their kind; when hunting prey, for example, it often pays to work in groups. And they can communicate amongst themselves using sign language as well as squeaks and other low-frequency sounds, inaudible to the human ear.

Thus, D. H. Lawrence was wrong to describe them as soundless and out of touch. Indeed, they even enjoy gently rubbing their bodies against one another, so are not suspended in watery isolation, forever apart. That said, Lawrence does recognise that fish not only know fear but joie de vivre - and their joy is often expressed in play behaviour; another key indicator of intelligence.

Finally, fish can learn from other fish simply by observing them in action (this is sometimes described as the cultural transmission of knowledge). You might ask what does a fish have to learn? Well, the location of a reliable food source, or a convenient hiding place, would be two examples of things that it might be crucial to have knowledge of. And, if you are a fish who happens to provide a grooming service for another species, it's important to learn how to do a good job.    

So, in sum: fish are intelligent and sensitive animals, with good memories, impressive problem-solving skills, and the ability to learn new things. We should treat them with the same care and respect as we would warm-blooded creatures, even if they are to some extent forever beyond our understanding and even if, as Lawrence says, we will never know their gods.


Notes

Image adapted by Stephen Alexander from a bottle of Albariño by Faustino Rivero Ulecia; a refreshing white wine with a citric finish that makes a perfect accompaniment to, er, fish ... 

See: D. H. Lawrence, 'Fish', in The Poems, Vol I., ed. Christopher Pollnitz, (Cambridge University Press, 2013), pp. 289-94. The poem is very lovely, even if technically incorrect on a number of points; but then, to be fair, Lawrence was a poet and not a marine biologist. It can be read online by clicking here. 

For a sister post to this one on the intelligence of reptiles, click here.