Latest news with #NaturePictureLibrary


National Geographic
18 hours ago
- Science
- National Geographic
The surprisingly relatable reason why some birds get cranky
Trafficked roads, loud noises, suffocating smog. For some people, living in the city can be stressful and unnerving. But a growing body of research shows some city birds can be more aggressive than their rural counterparts, suggesting they too feel the pressures of city life. In a study published in April in the journal Animal Behavior, researchers showed that Galápagos yellow warblers that live near trafficked roads in the Ecuadorian archipelago respond to intruders more aggressively than those living farther away from traffic. They're not the only bird species affected by city life. Numerous studies have investigated the phenomenon of angry urban birds—finding that species such as great tits, European robins, song sparrows, and dark-eyed juncos show more aggression toward each other when they live near urbanized sites. While it's clear that 'in some species of birds, urban populations are more aggressive than rural populations,' there are many different theories for why this happens, says Jeremy Hyman, a professor and department chair of biology at Western Carolina University. A song sparrow sings on a branch in California. Research suggests song sparrows may display more aggression in cities because they feel more territorial. Photograph By Marie Read/Nature Picture Library In the last decades, the Galápagos archipelago has seen a drastic increase in the human population, with permanent residents today increasing by six percent each year. An increase that requires more infrastructure to house more people, and more cars to move them around. This makes it a perfect 'laboratory' to study how birds respond to new, busy conditions, according to study authors. The researchers selected 38 warbler territories on two islands of the archipelago: Santa Cruz Island, and Floreana Island; both crossed by a main road used by cars. The warblers were located either near the road or at least 300 feet away. From scuba diving to set-jetting In each territory, they played recordings of traffic noise and warblers singing, which simulated an intrusion. 'Each bird was tested once with just the warbler speaker being active, and once with the warbler speaker plus the [car] noise speaker active,' says Çağlar Akçay, a behavioral ecologist at Anglia Ruskin University in Cambridge and study author. When exposed to the sounds of encroaching birds and car noise playing in the background, the warblers living close to the road responded more aggressively than when there was no noise playing. They also responded more aggressively to noise compared to their 'rural' counterparts—getting closer to the speakers and sometimes even attacking them. Mike Webster, an ornithologist at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology who was not involved in the research, says the study is 'pretty convincing' and offers a clear look at how a single environmental change can influence behavior. '[It] really kind of helps us focus in on what the causes of the differences in behavior might be,' he says. Why so angry? Generally, animals that live in cities tend to be bolder and more aggressive—both characteristics that enable them to survive in such complex habitat. 'Individuals that can't deal with constant disturbance, such as noise, people, cars, etc. would be unlikely to thrive in an urban habitat,' says Hyman. Some birds may become more aggressive because cities are rich in food sources—and so there's strong competition to establish a foothold. 'Only the most aggressive males can manage to hold a territory in this place where lots and lots of birds would like to have a territory,' says Hyman. But food scarcity may also make some urban species more aggressive, and so 'birds have to fight an awful lot in order to maintain a large enough territory to get the resources that they need.' High levels of stress caused by noise and other factors might also play a role in making birds more aggressive, notes Hyman. But does being more aggressive enhance your chances of survival? In some cases, aggression seems to be 'a worthwhile cost', says Sarah Foltz, a behavioral ecologist at Radford University. One study that looked at song sparrows living in southwest Virginia showed that aggression didn't impact how much bird parents invested in their offspring. Female birds even spent as much and sometimes more time at the nest than their less aggressive rural counterparts. Overall, the benefits of being more aggressive seem to depend on the kind of habitat the birds are in. For some species, like the song sparrow, some urban areas offer suitable habitats with more food and fewer predators. They might become more aggressive to defend it, and ensure a good habitat were to raise their offspring—and so have better chance of survival. Another 'big unanswered question,' says Hyman, is whether birds learn to be aggressive during their lifetime, or if birds born in urban populations have some measure of aggression encoded in their genes. 'There's little bits of evidence on both sides,' he says. But what scientists do know is that some birds can be highly adaptable. 'Aggression definitely has a genetic component to it,' says Foltz. 'But also, we know that when we change environmental factors, birds change their aggression' Overall, Foltz says scientists are still trying to understand just how much urban density different species can tolerate and which characteristics of an urban environment influence aggressiveness the most. 'We've got all these little pieces,' she says, 'But it's still coming together to make a bigger picture, so it's sort of an unfinished puzzle.'


National Geographic
15-05-2025
- Science
- National Geographic
The world's sweetest dolphin is facing extinction—but it's not too late
Irrawaddy dolphins have captured hearts for generations for their adorable smirks and ability to help humans catch fish. Now it's our turn to help them. An orphaned Irrawaddy dolphin rests in the arms of its caretaker at the Marine Endangered Species Veterinary Hospital in Rayong, Thailand. Photograph By Sirachai Arunrugstichai/Getty On Myanmar's Ayeyarwady River, fishers tap the side of their boats and wait. If they're lucky, a gray dolphin with a rounded head and smirk appears. These are Irrawaddy dolphins—social, intelligent mammals that have fished alongside humans for generations. The dolphins herd fish toward the fishers' cast nets, and in return, they snag fish trapped near the edges or stuck in the mud at the bottom for themselves. One dolphin, named Gotama, is even known for giving a special signal—a flick of the tail—right before the fishers should cast their nets. She passed this signal on to her calf, to the delight of the fishers. 'This is a pretty rare phenomenon in the world in terms of human and wildlife cooperation. So, it's something we're not only interested in conserving on a species level, but also on a cultural level too,' says Brian Smith, a river dolphin expert and recently retired Wildlife Conservation Society researcher. 'It's a lesson to humanity about our relationship with wildlife.' Two Irrawaddy dolphins jump from the water. The dolphins are threatened by gill nets that trap fish in rivers. Photograph By Roland Seitre, Nature Picture Library While these fishers and their cast nets generally have a friendly relationship with the dolphins, not everywhere in the river is as hospitable. Tragically, gill nets—which hang vertically and trap fish by their gills—are entangling dolphins and driving them toward extinction. Without urgent action, these cooperative, curious creatures could disappear forever. 'If we don't get a handle on the accidental killing of these animals in fishing nets,' Smith says, 'particularly gill nets, the species is finished,' much like the Yangtze river dolphin, which disappeared from China's waters in 2006, despite conservation efforts, as well as Mexico's Vaquita dolphins, down to around 10 individuals. 'They're like children' The Irrawaddy dolphins are more than just helpful fishing companions. They are a strong part of the community, supporting the ecotourism industry for the region, as well as playing a part in local folklore. One legend tells of two mischievous children sent to collect firewood. Lost and hungry, they find a shaman's hut. After eating enchanted rice and diving into the river for water, they transform into dolphins. When villagers find them, it's too late to reverse the spell. 'So, people kind of care for them because they feel they're like children,' says Danielle Kreb, a scientist with the nonprofit Yayasan Konservasi Rare Aquatic Species of Indonesia. Irrawaddy dolphins also have a quirky trick—they spit water. It's not just for fun, though. They use it to herd fish into tight groups so they're easier to catch. Some scientists even think they might do it to impress a potential mate. Irrawaddy dolphins are unique among marine mammals because they are one of only six species that can live in freshwater. But they can also inhabit coastal waters—a trait shared by even fewer species. Their range includes patches of coastal waters of South and Southeast Asia, as well as three specific rivers: the Mekong in Cambodia, the Mahakam in Indonesia, and the Ayeyarwady in Myanmar. While the species as a whole is listed as endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), the populations in these three rivers are considered critically endangered, with fewer than 100 individuals estimated in each. The remains of an endangered Irrawaddy dolphin. Photograph By Sirachai Arunrugstichai These rivers and coastal areas are often close to intense human activity, so in addition to gill nets, they face additional threats from pollution, habitat degradation from reduced or altered freshwater flows due to dams and embankments, coal-carrying ships, and illegal "electro-fishing"—a practice in which fishers send electric currents through the water to stun fish. This not only depletes the fish populations that dolphins rely on, but it can also injure or kill the dolphins themselves. One dolphin studied by Kreb in Indonesia's Mahakam River—where only about 60 individuals remain—was nicknamed Moose. Moose and her newborn calf, just minutes old, were both found dead. Testing later revealed they had been poisoned, likely by a pellet meant to kill fish. 'It's a really sad, sad case,' says Kreb. 'And it broke my heart because I felt I knew her very well. She had the sweetest face ever.' Committing to conservation Kreb is leading local conservation efforts along the Mahakam River, focusing on outreach, education, and the use of acoustic pingers to reduce dolphin deaths. These small devices emit a high-pitched, irritating sound that deters dolphins by disrupting their echolocation, keeping them away from dangerous fishing nets. But the design required careful calibration, Kreb explains: The sound had to be strong enough to act as a warning, but not so intense that it drove dolphins away from critical feeding areas. These pingers are effective at a range of about 10 meters, she says. Since launching the program in 2021, her team has distributed around 270 of them across the river. To raise awareness and funds for dolphin conservation—including the River Guard Program, where local people are hired to patrol the river and remove the gill nets from the waters—a small team of scientists and supporters, including Smith, swam 120 kilometers along the Mekong River in March, through the heart of Irrawaddy dolphin habitat. They stopped in villages to join outreach events organized by WWF Cambodia, government agencies, and local officials. A caretaker calms an orphaned Irrawaddy river dolphin at the Marine Endangered Species Veterinary Hospital in Rayong, Thailand. When the dolphin's ready, it will be released to join its wild pod. Photograph By Sirachai Arunrugstichai/Getty For Smith, conservation efforts need to focus on these small critical river populations, but also the last remaining stronghold of about 6,000 individuals in Bangladesh. He was part of the team that discovered this population in 2009, found mostly in the Sundarbans, the world's largest mangrove forest. 'The biggest contribution that could be made would be a long-term, sustainable effort to provide alternative livelihoods or supplementary livelihoods to the current fishers,' he says. 'And you have to have enforcement to make sure everybody's playing by the rules, establishing gill-net-free zones in the core areas of their distribution.' One of the great challenges in conservation is that often, what works isn't flashy or new—it's the 'same old, same old,' says Smith. But sustaining and strengthening those proven efforts is exactly what's needed to protect these animals. And this isn't just about saving species because they're rare or beautiful. It's about protecting something deeply meaningful to the communities who live alongside them, he adds. Smith remembers a young boy in the Irrawaddy region who worked with his father, cooperatively fishing with the dolphins. The whole village would playfully argue about who loved the dolphins most, until the boy finally said, 'Well, I love the dolphins more than I love my mother.' In the end, says Smith, this isn't just a biodiversity issue; it's also about 'conserving what's important to people.'


National Geographic
14-05-2025
- Health
- National Geographic
Listening to birds sing really does soothe your brain. Here's why.
Spending time in nature is important for your mental health. But studies show that even just listening to birds singing can ease symptoms of anxiety and depression. A European robin, Erithacus rubecula, sings in a tree in Norfolk, England. Studies have linked the sound of birdsong to reduced levels of depression and anxiety. Photograph By David Tipling, Nature Picture Library But why does birdsong feel special? As social creatures, 'we are hardwired to want to connect to things,' says Cindy Frantz, social and environmental psychologist and chair of psychology at Oberlin College and Conservatory. The parts of our brain that we use to form relationships with people help us build bonds with nature too—birds included. Here's why paying attention to their playful chirps, buzzy whistles, and whimsical calls really is as restorative as it feels. How birdsong bolsters our mental health A growing body of research suggests that birdsong is a gateway to nature's many benefits, whether you live in a rural town or a bustling city. For a 2022 study published in the journal Scientific Reports, researchers asked roughly 1,300 people to log information about their environment and how they were feeling three times a day for two weeks. When theyreported seeing or hearing birds, they had a significantly better sense of mental well-being, even after the researchers accounted for the benefits of being near green and blue spaces (like seeing trees or hearing water). The mental health boost from bird encounters lingered for hours too. The researchers noted that the participants were aware of the study's primary goals, which may have made them more conscious of and biased toward their own feelings. Plus, the study took place during the height of the COVID pandemic, likely affecting the participants' baseline stress levels and emotional response to birds. (What happens to your brain when you see a bird in nature?) However, another 2022 study published in the same journal also highlighted the contrast between listening to the sounds of nature versus urban environments. Among 295 participants, those who listened to six minutes of birdsong through headphones reported feeling less depressed, anxious, and paranoid. And the more vibrant the birdsong, the better: Reduced depression was specifically linked to hearing a variety of species singing together compared to those who only listened to the songs of two species. Participants who were subjected to six minutes of traffic noise, unsurprisingly, felt more depressed. A 2020 study from California Polytechnic State University drew similar conclusions after researchers played a 'phantom chorus' throughout a quarter-mile of two hiking trails in Boulder, Colorado. They hid speakers where birds would naturally reside and broadcasted a variety of songs to simulate greaterbiodiversity. 'We had to use some deception,' says study author Clinton Francis, an associate professor who researches avian and evolutionary ecology at Cal Poly's biological sciences department. 'One of my graduate students was so nervous that an incredibly good eBirder was going to find a speaker and be outraged.' (To their knowledge, the speakers went undetected by the trails' visitors.) (Nat Geo's ultimate guide to "touching grass.") Once visitors exited the paths, they were asked to fill out a questionnaire designed to tease out how they felt mentally. It's worth noting that self-reported data, in general, is limited because people can struggle to accurately recall and interpret their own thoughts and emotions. Still, the results were uplifting: People who experienced the 'phantom chorus' which only lasted about 10 minutes, felt a greater sense of cognitive restoration—a 'clearing of the mind,' per Francis—than those who hiked the trails while the speakers were turned off. Scientists don't fully understand why hearing more bird species can lead to a greater wellness boost, but they're hopeful that future studies will continue to explore the link. What is it about birdsong that soothes our brains? Many experts believe birdsong signals safety. Imagine feeling on edge as you walk through a suspiciously quiet forest: 'You realize that all the birds have stopped singing,' Francis explains. 'That's a cue that there may be a predator or other source of danger around. So it could be that birdsong, over our history, has been a reliable cue that the world is at ease and we can be relaxed.' As for the boost in mental clarity? Researchers haven't pinned down how birdsong, specifically, refreshes your mind; some studies have indicated that exposure to nature reduces activity in parts of the brain associated with stress and rumination, or repeatedly thinking negatively about yourself. The natural world squashes self-consciousness because it allows us to forget ourselves, Frantz says. Tuning into birds is also a form of mindfulness, because it roots you in the present moment, she adds. Being in community with nature delights your senses with what scientists have dubbed 'soft fascination,' meaning it captures your attention but doesn't overload it. The sights, smells, and sounds of the outdoors are starkly delicate compared to flashing lights and blaring horns. Watching tree buds unravel, soaking in the smell after rain, hearing the gentle coo of a mourning dove: 'Maybe it just makes us feel like we're actually living,' Francis says. How to get more birdsong in your life While studies have found that recordings of birdsong benefit your mental health, Francis stresses that nothing compares to experiencing the real thing. Still, 'nature does not have to be expansive or pristine,' Frantz says. Put up a smart bird feeder in your yard or download an app like Merlin Bird ID, which identifies birds based on their songs. She theorizes that learning the names of different species may help you feel even more connected to them. And the next time you hear a symphony of white-throated sparrows or spot a flashy warbler singing from the treetop, pause and appreciate the magic—the sounds of spring are fleeting, after all.


National Geographic
24-04-2025
- Science
- National Geographic
Whales could one day defend themselves in court—and in their own words
Scientists are closer than ever to deciphering sperm whale communication. Their breakthroughs could open the door to expanded whale rights and even legal personhood. A pod of sperm whales swims off the coast of Dominica, where researchers continue to make significant progress in their efforts to understand how the creatures converse amongst themselves. Photograph By Tony Wu, Minden Two summers ago, in the turquoise waters off the coast of a small Caribbean island called Dominica, a sperm whale named Rounder began to give birth. Eleven members of her clan slowly gathered around to support her, converging from miles away in their home waters. They called to one another in choruses of Morse code-like clicks as they waited for the baby to arrive and in the hours that followed, when they held the calf above water so that she could breathe, only lowering her when her fins finished unfurling. Soon after, they departed. Scientists are developing innovations in recording and analyzing sperm whale communications that could someday make it possible to understand at least some of what whales say to each other in these extraordinary moments. People might translate what they only now surmise: expressions of care and joy, arrangements of duties, cries of pain and discomfort. With those translations would come profound and surprising legal questions. Might a richer understanding of what sperm whales say breathe new life into laws that presently offer only incomplete, often-unenforced protections? Could legal systems recognize whales as persons, their interests so important as to be accorded formal rights? 'I think we're just now on the cusp of this immense legal world,' says David Gruber, a marine biologist and National Geographic Explorer. Scientists with Project CETI use machine learning software to find patterns within the rapid clicks that comprise sperm whale vocalizations. This research may lead to a deeper understanding of their language. Photograph By Franco Banfi, Nature Picture Library Gruber is the founder and president of Project CETI (Cetacean Translation Initiative), which has gathered dozens of linguists, biologists, roboticists, and experts in artificial intelligence to document the lives and communications of Dominica's sperm whales. Their work builds on several decades of findings in the field of animal communication—not only in sperm whales but throughout the animal world, from songbird syntax to chimpanzee gestures and river turtle repertoires. Gruber's team is working to translate whale conversation with an unprecedented richness and detail. They hope to eventually develop a quasi–Google Translate for cetaceans, which would convert sperm whale sounds into human language and vice versa. Already, Gruber and his colleagues are beginning to anticipate some of the legal implications of this work. In a new working paper that is expected to be published later this fall in the journal Ecology Law Quarterly, they note that one result might be a world in which humans 'undeniably understand' these creatures' experience from their own perspective. 'Such insights could provide a groundwork for new laws and inform how existing laws regulate actions that impact cetaceans.' To explore what might become possible, Gruber tapped a leading team of experts, including César Rodríguez-Garavito, director of the More-than-Human Rights Project at New York University; Ashley Otilia Nemeth, an attorney at NYU's TERRA Clinic; and CETI linguistics lead Gašper Beguš of the University of California, Berkeley. They offer a new framework for thinking about the law that is rooted in the way whales experience the world. Discover More, Spend Less With new subscriber-exclusive stories published daily and complete archive access, your opportunities to explore are endless! Consider, for instance, the problem of ocean noise pollution. For creatures like sperm whales, who rely upon echolocation to find food and to navigate, and who remain in near-constant vocal contact with family and friends, sound is paramount. Humanity's growing aquatic din—oil and gas exploration, construction, military sonar, and most of all ship engine noise—is a clear harm, disrupting the basic activities of sperm whale life. Project CETI lead David Gruber, left, has brought together a world class team of experts in marine biology, robotics, artificial intelligence, and linguistics to better understand sperm whale communication. Photograph By Michael Lees, CETI Project 'We have very good evidence of the impacts,' says Rodríguez-Garavito, yet that evidence has yielded piecemeal progress. The federal Marine Mammal Protection Act and the Endangered Species Act—the bedrock of cetacean protections in the United States—provide a legal framework for preventing harms, but government agencies have mostly neglected to apply rules against harming cetaceans to cases of noise-induced harm. The same toothlessness holds for other attempts to curb underwater noise, such as new regulations passed in the European Union and by the International Maritime Organization. But what if whales were documented not only straining to make themselves heard above the racket, but actually talking about it? Were a sperm whale heard articulating the pain and difficulty caused by a ship's eardrum-rattling, echolocation-scrambling engine noise, their words would likely carry more weight in a court of law than do human descriptions of the problem. Being able to present the whales' own testimony, so to speak, might move—or shame—government agencies and judges to action. It 'would help us make more of a convincing case,' says Rodríguez-Garavito, and a deeper understanding of sperm whale communication could inspire even farther-reaching legal claims. Animal advocates and conservationists might be able to argue that near-constant physical and psychological stress caused by chronic noise pollution actually violate the spirit of international prohibitions against torture. Sensory deprivation and overstimulation are already recognized as torturous for humans; recognizing the same for whales could lead to new, more urgent protections. Advocates could also assert that by disrupting communication and social activities, noise pollution interferes with sperm whale culture—and that the whales should qualify, again in spirit if not in letter, for recognitions afforded by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which enshrines a right to participation in cultural life. After all, culture—socially transmitted information that is passed between generations—is already known to be a significant feature of sperm whale life. Different clans have different dialects, lifestyles, and social customs. Even when their waters overlap, clan members often keep to themselves, and their structure resembles that of human tribes. But those are coarse descriptions; to learn about the whales' cultures through their own words would provide a finer understanding of them. It would put a sharper point on what is lost when humans destroy those cultures or remove individuals from them—by hitting them with ships, hunting them for profit, or capturing them for entertainment. Perhaps that deeper, first-person understanding could again lead to new protections or reinforce existing ones. Maybe advocates will be able to call not merely for protections, but true rights: the explicit legal recognition of an interest as profoundly, inviolably important. That leads to the topic of legal personhood, defined by the late Steven Wise, founder of the Nonhuman Rights Project, as the capacity to have any rights at all. In the United States, rights are exclusively human. No animal has ever been accorded a full legal right; although laws against cruelty and the mistreatment of animals provide some protections, they have neither the force nor versatility offered by rights. A sperm whale socializes with its pod in the Caribbean Sea. In the near future, researchers may be able to gain a deeper understanding of these behaviors by being able to communicate directly with the animals, which could lend support to new forms of legal protection. Photograph By Franco Banfi, Nature Picture Library The Nonhuman Rights Project has tried to cross that legal divide by filing lawsuits seeking the release of captive chimpanzees and elephants. The lawsuits draw on scientific research showing how those species share the mental capacities—including rich forms of self-awareness, emotions, and society, and the ability to plan for the future and make choices—that in humans give rise to autonomy and thus underlie our right to be free from arbitrary imprisonment. As a matter of equality, Nonhuman Rights Project lawyers argue this right should be extended to chimpanzees and elephants as well. Courts have so far rejected that argument, and among their stated justifications is the idea that in order to have rights, one must also be able to bear social responsibilities and legal duties: the right to liberty comes with a duty not to break the law. Rodríguez-Garavito and his co-authors suggest that Project CETI's work could illuminate how sperm whales negotiate their own social responsibilities, such as helping mothers deliver and protect their babies, thus establishing them as duty-bearers in the law's eyes. Project CETI teams members Darren Gibbons, Yaniv Aluma, and Odel Harve work from a Whale Listening Station floating in the Caribbean Sea. Such outposts are one of the innovations Project CETI has developed to help capture and analyze whale sounds. Photograph By CETI Project Translating the caregiving arrangements whales make with each other will not likely satisfy reluctant judges, though. Spencer Lo, an attorney with the Nonhuman Rights Project, noted that judges already dismiss scientific evidence of social responsibilities fulfilled by chimpanzees and elephants. Instead those animals are found wanting in their inability to explicitly understand human legal codes—an expectation that is not applied to babies or people with severe dementia, who are similarly unable to understand laws but still have rights. That double standard speaks to the essential discomfort most judges have with the idea of animal personhood. And even when courts don't cite the 'rights and duties' standard, they have found other rationales. Those rejections are ultimately rooted in the belief that 'humans are qualitatively—and thus morally and legally—distinct from all nonhuman animals,' says Lo. He thinks that Project CETI's work, and that of other researchers deciphering complex animal communication, has 'transformative potential,' but not because it will reinforce any particular legal argument. Rather, that potential resides in its power 'to undermine human exceptionalism and thereby bolster the case for personhood.' Yet despite their courtroom struggles, the Nonhuman Rights Project has arguably triumphed in the court of public opinion. Understanding sperm whale communication may not lead directly to new laws or precedents—but it should still nourish empathy and care. A young calf swims alongside two adults off the coast of Dominica, where, in 2023, Gruber and his team became the first research group to document the birth of a sperm whale in the region. From that encounter, they hope to gain a richer understanding of pivotal moments in these animals' lives. Photograph By Brian Skerry, Nat Geo Image Collection Even as U.S. courts have refused to recognize animals as persons, however, jurisdictions elsewhere have been more open-minded. In recent years, judges in several countries have declared that some animals should be considered persons; in Panama, for example, sea turtles now have a federally recognized right to freedom from human harm, and Ecuador's highest court took the extraordinary step of declaring that all animals are legal persons. Discussion is now ongoing about the rights that each species deserves. Kristen Stilt, faculty director of Harvard University's animal law program, used the analogy of fluid flowing through pipes to illustrate how better understandings of animal communication could lead to legal change. In the United States, she says, new information flows through 'a couple little straws,' but in places that are open-minded to animal rights, 'it's like you've got this massive pipe, and all this [information] can flow in all these different directions.' Leading scientists and legal scholars are already considering the potential harms of this technology. 'In the miraculous event that we do eventually 'crack the code,'' says Philippa Brakes, a behavioral ecologist at Massey University in Australia, 'there are issues such as the potential for communications with wildlife to be used for nefarious purposes.' Gruber agrees and adds that technology developed by Project CETI and other researchers could be turned to ill not only by people who want to harm whales, but by well-intentioned yet careless people. He is especially troubled by the thought of people 'racing to try some of these fancy new AI tools"—tools that not only translate whale communication but mimic it—without fully understanding what is being communicated. 'We must still grapple with the potential impacts of its research and what its findings may equip others to do,' write Gruber's team. The possibility should be 'understood as a clarion call for ethical and legal safeguards.' A sperm whale calf swims near the surface of the Caribbean Sea. Translating the conversations of such animals may not immediately lead to new legal protections, but it shed light on challenges they may face. Photogrpah By Brian Skerry, Nat Geo Image Collection Stilt has even more fundamental reservations. If complex animal communication and our ability to translate it becomes the basis for ethical regard, a bar that animals must clear for their interests to be recognized, it would 'take us backwards,' she says. That would give people an excuse for failing to act on what is already known about animals, the harms we cause, and how we should treat them, regardless of whether they speak in a suitably human-like way. The Project CETI team shares those reservations too. 'Why must nonhuman animals resemble humans for us to empathize with their pain and safeguard their well-being?' they write. 'Must they articulate their suffering when we already possess a clear understanding of the injuries we cause?' The quest to find and translate complex animal communication should not diminish the worth of creatures who don't appear to have those capacities, says Rodríguez-Garavito. We may simply fail to appreciate their intelligence; and the lack of rich communication does not make any life less special. But it would still be incredible, and perhaps transformative, to know what sperm whales say—and this could be seen as an entry point, a beginning rather than a destination, on the journey to appreciating all creatures.


National Geographic
22-04-2025
- Science
- National Geographic
We thought Andean bears were mute. Then scientists heard them mating.
New discoveries about the Andean bear language show that the species makes five distinct sounds during mating. Photograph by Lucas Bustamante, Nature Picture Library Researchers have captured footage of these bears making a wide range of vocalizations during their most intimate moments—the first time sounds of this kind have been documented in any bear species. By María de los Ángeles Orfila Until recently, the Andean bear—the only species of bear in South America, easily recognized by the light-colored markings that frame its face like glasses—was thought to be almost mute; there were only a few documented cases of vocal exchanges between mothers and cubs in captivity. But recently, deep in the Andes, camera traps captured something unexpected: During mating, this elusive creature becomes surprisingly expressive. It moans, growls, and purrs. With this new information, scientists are finally starting to decipher its language. (This biologist and her rescue dog help protect bears in the Andes.) This discovery was part of a study published in the Mexican Journal of Biodiversity in January. Between 2020 and 2021, a team of researchers hid camera traps in the forests of the Colombian and Bolivian Andes in hopes of spotting the mysterious Andean bear. The resulting recordings captured an array of sounds from the bears—grunts, gasps, and rhythmic hums—that contradicted everything previously known about this species. Far from silent, the bears were actually vocalizing with a rich and varied repertoire—and not just occasionally, but during one of their most private moments. 'The literature said these animals were silent,' says Ángela Mendoza-Henao, a research associate at the Sound Collection of the Alexander von Humboldt Institute for Biological Resources Research and one of the authors of the study. 'But we could see they were constantly making many sounds…for hours.' Discover More, Spend Less With new subscriber-exclusive stories published daily and complete archive access, your opportunities to explore are endless! The study reveals the bear's unique vocal repertoire, composed of five distinct sounds, each with a clear purpose. The bite—a sharp, brief squeal reminiscent of the creak of a rusty hinge—is exclusive to females during contact with the male. 'It's the aural response to the male's bite on the neck during mating,' explains Nicolás Reyes-Amaya, curator of the Humboldt Institute's Mammal Collection and another author of the study. 'The male becomes a little more excited, and the two enter a more intense phase.' This is the first time that sounds of this kind have been documented in any bear species. In the case of the Andean bear, traditionally considered extremely silent, the discovery is even more revealing. What we are hearing is, at the very least, the beginning of a bear's climax. (Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya: Protecting the legend of her youth, the Andean bear.) Using concrete data to analyze bear sounds The bite sound was identified thanks to the acute hearing of Adriana Reyes, one of the lead authors of the study, who recently passed away. She processed countless hours of recordings captured by the cameras into spectrograms. The paper describes the bite as a variant of the humm, the most common sound between males and females that resembles a feline-like purr. In front of the camera traps, each copulation lasts at least an hour. 'They are making sounds all the time,' Mendoza-Henao points out. 'They are not spontaneous vocalizations.' Yet none of these vocalizations have ever been observed in the presence of humans. While this particular study did not assess how the bears behave around people, Reyes-Amaya notes that many mammals reduce their vocal activity when humans are nearby, likely to avoid detection. 'It wouldn't be unusual for this to be the case with the bear,' he says, 'but we would need to test it.' (Poaching threatens South America's only bear species.) Until now, most acoustic recordings of bears were vague descriptions, based on onomatopoeia or the intuition of the human ear, so they remained anecdotal. This study, on the other hand, analyzes the Andean bear's sexual repertoire for the first time using field-measured data, clearing away the onomatopoeia and giving a scientific voice to the pants, grunts, and snorts. Not only are Andean bears quiet around humans, but they also have a tendency to hide well in treetops. Photograph by Thomas Peschak, Nat Geo Image Collection Studying bears in other regions Sexual activity between the bears was recorded in all three locations over three months. Not only was this the first time the Andean bear's romantic and sexual voice was heard, but it was also the first time it was seen mating in the wild. "It was a matter of luck," says Reyes-Amaya. Although the Andean bear can measure up to 6.56 feet in length, "they can be very cryptic when they want to be," Reyes-Amaya notes. The bear knows how to hide very well in the treetops, for reasons scientists still don't understand, so it's rare for humans to spot their imposing silhouette—one of the largest among tropical forest mammals. What is more common is to stumble upon the markings they leave on the bark of trees or the vegetation they tread. (Bears seen mating in trees—a scientific first.) Even so, the Andean bear travels several miles per day. That's why Mendoza-Henao believes it's key to have sound recordings from different regions to study the possible existence of dialects between distant populations. Andean bears live along the spine of South America, from Venezuela to Bolivia, and have adapted to cold environments such as high Andean forests and high-altitude tropical grasslands found above treelines. "Do bears in Ecuador speak differently from those in Colombia? Do they have a different accent from bears in Bolivia? We don't know yet," says Reyes-Amaya. This discovery also opens the door to analyzing how other bear species communicate. Not all bears vocalize the same way; polar bears, for example, make almost no sounds, except for some snorts during confrontations between males or exchanges between mothers and cubs. On the other hand, black bears are typically louder than brown bears, perhaps because they live in dense forests where it's difficult to see, so their voices become a key tool to communicate with each other. Even pandas, which emit at least 11 distinct sounds in the wild, become especially noisy when they are in heat in captivity. For Reyes-Amaya, these kinds of findings transcend the anecdotal. "This study is wonderful in itself, because it helps us understand and learn a little more about a majestic being,' he says. The Andean bear's vocal repertoire not only expands what we know about its species, but also reveals how, in their world, they make themselves heard when no one is looking.