A necessary evil? Is scientific whaling worthwhile - or even valid science?

There are some phrases - 'creation science' and 'military intelligence' spring readily to mind - that are worth rather more attention than a first or second glance. Another example is 'scientific whaling', which I believe deserves wider dissemination in the global public consciousness. I previously mentioned this predominantly Japanese phenomenon back in 2010 and it has subsequently had the habit of occasionally appearing in the news. It likewise has a tendency to aggravate emotions rather than promote rational discourse, making it difficult to discern exactly what is going on and whether it fulfils the first part of the phrase.

I remember being about ten years' old when a classmate's older sister visited our school and gave a talk describing her work for Greenpeace. At the time this organisation was in the midst of the Save the Whale campaign, which from my memory appears to have been at the heart of environmental activism in the 1970s. As such, it gained a high level of international publicity and support, perhaps more so than any previous conservation campaign.

Although this finally led to a ban on whale hunting in 1986, several nations opted out. In addition to a small-scale continuation in some indigenous, traditional, whale-hunting communities, Iceland and Norway continue to hunt various species. As a result, various multi-national corporations have followed public opinion and removed their operations from these nations. Japan, on the other hand - with a much larger economy and population, yet home to a far greater whale-hunting operation - is a very different prospect.

There was an international outcry back in March when Norway announced that it was increasing its annual whaling quota by 28%. It's difficult to understand the motivation behind this rise, bearing in mind that Norway's shrinking whale fleet are already failing to meet government quotas. Thanks to warming oceans, the remaining whale populations are moving closer to the North Pole, depriving the Norwegians of an easy catch. What is caught is used for human consumption as well as for pet and livestock food, as it is in Iceland, where the same tourists who go on whale-watching trips are then encouraged to tuck in to cetacean steaks and whale burgers (along with the likes of puffin and other local delicacies).

Although we think of pre-1980s whaling as a voracious industry there have been periods of temporary bans dating back to at least the 1870s, admittedly driven by profit-led concern of declining stocks rather than animal welfare and environmentalism in general. It wasn't just the meat that was economically significant; it's easy to forget that before modern plastics were invented, baleen served a multitude of purposes while the bones and oil of cetaceans were also important materials.

But hasn't modern technology superseded the need for whale-based products? Thanks to a scientific research exemption, Japanese vessels in Antarctica and the North Pacific can work to catch quotas set by the Japanese government, independent of the International Whaling Commission. The relevant legislation also gives the Japanese Institute of Cetacean Research permission to sell whale meat for human consumption, even if it was obtained within the otherwise commercially off-limits Southern Ocean Whale Sanctuary. That's some loophole! So what research is being undertaken?

The various Japanese whaling programmes of the past thirty years have been conducted principally in the name of population management for Bryde's, Fin, Minke and Sei whales. The role of these four species within their local ecosystem and the mapping of levels of toxic pollutants are among the research objectives. The overarching aim is simple: to evaluate if the stocks are robust enough to allow the resumption of large-scale yet sustainable commercial whaling. In other words, Japan is killing a smaller number of whales to assess when they can start killing a greater number of whales!

Following examination of the Japanese whaling programmes, including the current JARPA II study, environmental groups including the World Wildlife Fund as well as the Australian Government have declared Japan's scientific whaling as not fit for purpose. The programmes have led to a very limited number of published research papers, especially when compared to the data released by other nations using non-lethal methods of assessment.

There is now an extremely wide range of non-fatal data collection techniques, such as biopsy sampling and GPS tagging. Small drones nicknamed 'snotbots' are being used to obtain samples from blowhole emissions, while even good old-fashioned sighting surveys that rely on identification of individuals from diagnostics such as tail flukes can be used for population statistics. Japanese scientists have continually stated that they would stop whale hunting if other techniques proved as effective, yet the quality and quantity of research they have published since the 1980s completely negates this.

After examining the results, even some Japanese researchers have admitted that killing whales has not proven to be an accurate way to gain data. Indeed, sessions in 2014 at the United Nations' International Court of Justice confirmed that if anything, the Japanese whale quotas are far too small to provide definitive evidence for their objectives. To put it another way, Japan's Institute of Cetacean Research would have to kill far more whales to confirm if the populations are healthy enough to bear the brunt of pre-1980's scale commercial whaling! Anyone for a large dollop of irony?

Looking at the wider picture, does Japan really need increased volumes of cetacean flesh anyway? After the Second World War, food shortages led to whale meat becoming a primary protein source. Today, Japanese consumption has dropped to just one percent of what it was in the decade post-war. The domestic stockpile is no doubt becoming a burden, since whale meat is now even used in subsidised school lunches, despite the danger of heavy metal poisoning.

Due to the reduction in market size, Japan's scientific whaling programmes are no longer economically viable. So how is it that the long-term aim is to increase catch to fully commercial levels - and who do they think will be eating it? Most countries abide by the International Whaling Commission legislation, so presumably it will be for the domestic market. Although approximately half the nation's population support whale hunting, possibly due its traditional roots (or as a reaction to perceived Western cultural imperialism?) most no longer eat whale meat. So why are the Japanese steadfast in pursuing research that generates poor science, is unprofitable, internationally divisive, and generates an unwanted surplus?

The answer is: no-one really knows, at least outside of the Institute of Cetacean Research; and they're not saying. If ever there was a case of running on automatic pilot, this seems to be it. The name of science is being misused in order to continue with the needless exploitation of marine resources in the Pacific and Southern oceans. Thousands of whales have been unnecessarily slaughtered (I realise that's an emotive word, but it's worth using under the circumstances) at a time when non-lethal techniques are proving their superior research value. Other countries are under pressure to preserve fish stocks and reduce by-catch - by comparison Japan's attitude appears anachronistic in the extreme. By allowing the loophole of scientific whaling, the International Whaling Commission has compromised both science and cetaceans for something of about as much value as fox hunting.

Debunking DNA: A new search for the Loch Ness monster

I was recently surprised to read that a New Zealand genomics scientist, Neil Gemmell of Otago University, is about to lead an international team in the search for the Loch Ness monster. Surely, I thought, that myth has long since been put to bed and is only something exploited for the purposes of tourism? I remember some years ago that a fleet of vessels using side-sweeping sonar had covered much of the loch without discovering anything conclusive. When combined with the fact that the most famous photograph is a known fake and the lack of evidence from the plethora of tourist cameras (never mind those of dedicated Nessie watchers) that have convened on the spot, the conclusion seems obvious.

I've put together a few points that don't bode well for the search, even assuming that Nessie is a 'living fossil' (à la coelacanth) rather than a supernatural creature; the usual explanation is a cold water-adapted descendant of a long-necked plesiosaur - last known to have lived in the Cretaceous Period:

1. Loch Ness was formed by glacial action around 10,000 years ago, so where did Nessie come from? 
2. Glacial action implies no underwater caves for hiding in
3. How can a single creature maintain a long-term population (the earliest mentions date back thirteen hundred years)? 
4. What does such a large creature eat without noticeably reducing the loch's fish population?
5. Why have no remains ever been found, such as large bones, even on sonar?

All in all, I didn't think much of the expedition's chances and therefore I initially thought that the new research would be a distinct waste of money that could be much better used elsewhere in Scotland. After all, the Shetland seabird population is rapidly decreasing thanks to over-fishing, plastic pollution and loss of plankton due to increasing ocean temperatures. It would make more sense to protect the likes of puffins (who have suffered a 98% decline over the past 20 years), along with guillemots and kittiwakes amongst others.

However, I then read that separate from the headline-grabbing monster hunt, the expedition's underlying purpose concerns environmental DNA sampling, a type of test never before used at Loch Ness. Gemmell's team have proffered a range of scientifically valid reasons for their project:

1. To survey the loch's ecosystem, from bacteria upwards 
2. Demonstrate the scientific process to the public (presumably versus all the pseudoscientific nonsense surrounding cryptozoology)
3. Test for trace DNA from potential but realistic causes of 'monster' sightings, such as large sturgeon or catfish 
4. Understand local biodiversity with a view to conservation, especially as regards the effect caused by invasive species such as the Pacific pink salmon. 

Should the expedition find any trace of reptile DNA, this would of course prove the presence of something highly unusual in the loch. Gemmell has admitted he doubts they will find traces of any monster-sized creatures, plesiosaur or otherwise, noting that the largest unknown species likely to be found are bacteria. Doesn't it seem strange though that sometimes the best way to engage the public - and gain funding - for real science is to use what at best could be described as pseudoscience?

Imagine if NASA could only get funding for Earth observation missions by including the potential to prove whether our planet was flat or not? (Incidentally, you might think a flat Earth was just the territory of a few nutbars, but a poll conducted in February this year suggests that fully two percent of Americans are convinced the Earth is a disk, not spherical).

Back to reality. Despite the great work of scientists who write popular books and hold lectures on their area of expertise, it seems that the media - particularly Hollywood - are the primary source of science knowledge to the general public. Hollywood's version of de-extinction science, particularly for ancient species such as dinosaurs, seems to be far better known than the relatively unglamorous reality. Dr Beth Shapiro's book How to clone a mammoth for example is an excellent introduction to the subject, but would find it difficult to compete along side the adventures of the Jurassic World/Park films.

The problem is that many if not most people want to believe in a world that is more exciting than their daily routine would suggest, with cryptozoology offering itself as an alternative to hard science thanks to its vast library of sightings over the centuries. Of course it's easy to scoff: one million tourists visit Loch Ness each year but consistently fail to find anything; surely in this case absence of evidence is enough to prove evidence of absence?

The Loch Ness monster is of course merely the tip of the mythological creature iceberg. The Wikipedia entry on cryptids lists over 170 species - can they all be just as suspect? The deep ocean is the best bet today for large creatures new to science. In a 2010 post I mentioned that the still largely unexplored depths could possibly contain unknown megafauna, such as a larger version of the oarfish that could prove to be the fabled sea serpent.

I've long had a fascination with large creatures, both real (dinosaurs, of course) and imaginary. When I was eight years old David Attenborough made a television series called Fabulous Animals and I had the tie-in book. In a similar fashion to the new Loch Ness research project, Attenborough used the programmes to bring natural history and evolutionary biology to a pre-teen audience via the lure of cryptozoology. For example, he discussed komodo dragons and giant squid, comparing extant megafauna to extinct species such as woolly mammoth and to mythical beasts, including the Loch Ness Monster.

A few years later, another television series that I avidly watched covered some of the same ground, namely Arthur C. Clarke's Mysterious World. No less than four episodes covered submarine cryptozoology, including the giant squid, sea serpents and of course Nessie him (or her) self. Unfortunately the quality of such programmes has plummeted since, although as the popularity of the (frankly ridiculous) seven-year running series Finding Bigfoot shows, the public have an inexhaustible appetite for this sort of stuff.

I've read that it is estimated only about ten percent of extinct species have been discovered in the fossil record, so there are no doubt some potential surprises out there (Home floresiensis, anyone?) However, the evidence - or lack thereof - seems firmly stacked against the Loch Ness monster. What is unlikely though is that the latest expedition will dampen the spirits of the cryptid believers. A recent wolf-like corpse found in Montana, USA, may turn out to be coyote-wolf hybrid, but this hasn't stopped the Bigfoot and werewolf fans from spreading X-Files style theories across the internet. I suppose it’s mostly harmless fun, and if Professor Gemmell’s team can spread some real science along the way, who am I to argue with that? Long live Nessie!