Should aboriginal whaling be allowed?

In the 80s, whale populations became so severely endangered that in 1982 the International Whaling Commission (IWC) decided to place a moratorium (a pause) on hunting of whale species. The moratorium started during the 1985/1986 season and is still in place. There are only two exceptions: whaling for scientific reasons and aboriginal subsistence whaling.

The issue of aboriginal whaling is complex, and can be viewed from a myriad different angles. There are many questions to be asked, and very few clear answers. Should aboriginal whaling be allowed on the grounds of culture and subsistence? What counts as cultural practice? Is whale hunting immoral in itself?

We discussed these and more questions during a discussion night in collaboration with Conservation Biology Association (UofE).

This article is not about giving answers, mostly because we just don’t have them. Rather, we want to offer different points of view, so that you can make your own conclusions.

Aboriginal whaling is currently only allowed in 4 places in the entire world: in Alaska, Greenland, the island of Bequia, and Chukotka. You can read about the specific whaling limits here.

How do we define needs?

Aboriginal subsistence whaling applies to “native or indigenous people with an established and ongoing need to consume whale meat and products” (Whale and Dolphin Conservancy).

We bump into the first problem pretty early on with the word “need”. It is understood to include both nutritional and cultural needs, but what are those?

A resource without alternatives?

For all whaling communities in the arctic, whales are the most important source of food. They provide an ideal nutrition for surviving in harsh, cold conditions and help protect from a range of “western” diseases such as cancers, thrombosis or atherosclerosis.

Are there alternatives? Yes, most communities do have access to food imported from elsewhere, but this “foreign” food can’t fully satisfy their nutritional needs and has been proven to increase disease and mortality. Moreover, imported food is much more expensive (e.g. in Alaska’s North Slope the cost of living is 3x higher than that of the rest of the US). There are very few job opportunities in these remote and deserted areas and so food comes mainly from nature – just in Alaska, replacing bowhead whales with beef would cost the Inupiat and Yupik people $11M - $30M per year. And you’d still have to raise, kill and transport the cows, which comes with its own set of environmental burdens.

Whales are the most important, but not the only hunted animals. For example, the Chukchi and Eskimos of Chukotka in the Russian Federation hunt for fish, seal, deer and walruses as well. But climate change and pollution make it harder for them to catch anything and so they are still dependent on whale meat.

As we can see, there ARE alternatives, even though complicated. Would you prefer whaling to be banned completely? What do you think would be the acceptable alternatives if that happened?

Iñupiat elder Foster Simmonds. Source: People of the Whale - a portrait of traditional whale hunting in Alaska, The Guardian (2016) Accessed here.

What are cultural needs?

There is just one place outside of the arctic circle, where you can find aboriginal whalers – the island of Bequia in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. This tiny tropical country in the Caribbean stands out from the whaling quartet. For Bequians too, it is expensive to import food and increasingly more extreme weather makes it harder to catch other marine creatures. Still, they don’t rely on whales as much as the Inupiat or the Chukchi.

This brings us to the second meaning of need: the cultural needs.

While the nutritional importance of whaling may decrease over time as imported food becomes more available, it will be increasingly important as a cultural pillar in the face of globalisation.

The Inupiat people of Alaska have been whaling for over a 1000 years. They wait where ice meets the sea and when the time is right, they jump into their umiaqs, light seal skin-boats and with techniques they have been perfecting for centuries, they try to strike the whales passing by. When a whale is caught, the whole community comes together to process it. Everything is used: everyone gets a fair share, for free, some meat is left for the polar bears, some stored for winter as dog food, bones are carved. To waste anything would be a disgrace. Killing a whale is the highest honour, because it means the whaler just fed the entire community. There are songs, and dances and festivals dedicated to whaling.

Waiting for the right moment. “The whale chooses us” says Inupiat whaling captain in Gift of the Whale, topic. Accessed here.

Source of picture: When Whales and Humans Talk, Hakhai Magazine (2020). Accessed here.

Inupiat whaling festivities Source: Gift of the Whale, topic (2020). Accessed here.

A Whale Feast in Alaska, USA

Source: Description of the USA Aboriginal Subsistence Hunt: Alaska, IWC (2020) Accessed here. Picture taken by Bill Hess

In a documentary about whaling in Chukotka, a Chukchi woman says: “We don’t say ‘we kill’. We say ‘we take’ or ‘nature’s gift’. Darwin said that people evolved from apes. But we Chukchi come from whales.”

Clash of culture and animal welfare

Just how far do cultural rights go though? The IWC does not regulate what methods can be used in subsistence whaling, this is left to the discretion of individual states and/or communities. Indigenous whaling tends to use traditional, less effective methods, which increase the time to death, and the number of “struck and lost” incidents, ultimately increasing suffering. Bequian hunters use hand-thrown harpoons which are less effective and precise than harpoon guns. In Chukotka this is the case with underpowered rifles. Can cultural rights justify the unnecessary suffering caused? Do they extend to the tools and methods used? Should the IWC regulate this? In Bequia, hunters have changed some of their practices according to wildlife activists, for example they stopped hunting calves. This indicates that communities might be more open to this kind of change themselves.

What are the limits of culture? Why allow aboriginal whaling but not shark fin soup? How far can a culture go to excuse killing or even suffering?

First of all, whaling has a substantial nutritional element that shark fin soup does not. But if we look past that, how do we decide? One way to think about this could be to imagine culture as a spectrum. Each practice and value moves around on the spectrum from core to marginal. Not all practices and values will have the same importance because they are of different relative value to their respective cultures.

Harpooning a whale

Source: Description of the Bequia Aboriginal Subsistence Hunt: St Vincent and the Grenadines, IWC (2020) Accessed here.

What is a tradition?

In Bequia, whaling was only introduced in the 1870s but has become ingrained in local culture. Similarly to the Inupiat, catching a whale is the biggest event of the year and is accompanied by many festivities. Critics say, however, that being introduced less than 200 years ago, it can barely be considered a tradition. This way, anything could pass under the protection of “cultural rights”.

Interestingly, the biggest celebration of the year in Britain is also less than 200 years old. Christmas, the way it’s celebrated today, comes from the Victorian era. The decorated Christmas tree was introduced to Britain by Prince Albert, who brought it from his home in Germany in the 1840s. All the things we associate with the biggest holiday of the year, turkey, sweet mince pies, Christmas crackers, printed cards, quiet family time and more started in the second half of the 19th century. Santa Claus arrived on his sleigh from America in the 1870s, same time whaling was introduced to Beliqua. Now, try taking away any of these things from an average Brit on the grounds that these are not “real” traditions and see what they think.

Cultural chauvinism and environmental inequality

From the point of view of indigenous people, this all can seem quite strange. White people pushed them from their territories, left them to die from starvation and new diseases and exploited them for labour and the environment for resources…you know, good ol’ colonialism.

Today, when whale populations are endangered because of commercial whaling, aboriginal people must submit their diet and culture for examination (to the very people who allowed the problem to happen in the first place) to hear whether it is important enough. Is this yet another case of small, poor communities, paying the price for the damage caused by the big rich guys?

Even today, native communities aren’t the only ones whaling. Norway and Iceland both opposed the moratorium and continued to whale in high numbers. Japan used a legal loophole to kill thousands of whales in the past decades (more on that later), while Bequians have to defend their traditions to be able to catch two or three whales a year.

How can we decide what other cultures are allowed to call a tradition when we are not in it?

Now, of course, to prevent whales from going extinct, whaling must be regulated, even within native communities. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair.

Blurred lines between commercial and aboriginal whaling

The line between commercial and aboriginal whaling is not as clear as it may seem. In fact, it can become quite blurred as proved by the case of Greenland. Greenland has been selling whale meat to tourists in supermarkets and restaurants for years. As a result of this, the IWC zeroed its quota in 2012, but renewed them in 2015. Whale meat is still sold there for profit, you can even read adds for whale gastronomy on this restaurant chain’s page.

Right to commercial whaling?

This raises yet another question: For communities in the Arctic, which often live or spend a lot of time far away from civilisation, and their way of living is incompatible with getting regular jobs, whales are one of the few resources they can use to trade with the outside world. Should that be considered a part of their needs? Afterall, that is how Greenland justifies its whale business and the IWC tolerates it. And the meet is not exported internationally.

Legal loopholes

We already mentioned that there is one other exception to the moratorium and that is whaling for scientific purposes. Japan took full advantage of this loophole and between 1987 and 2019 caught a total of 16 687 Fin, Sperm, Sei, Bryde’s and Minke whales. Just for science, of course.

Blurring the lines between commercial and aboriginal whaling is setting a precedent. In the future, other countries could use this grey area to hunt commercially too, which undermines the whole purpose of the moratorium.

Should aboriginal communities be listened to when setting whaling limits?

The Bequian people of the Carribean are allowed to hunt 4 whales per year, though this is often lower, because there isn’t enough of them. Between the years 2015-2017, they only caught 1 whale per year. They believe that the IWC should listen to their expertise when it comes to creating a limit on whaling, instead of the scientists, due to their understanding of the “local balance”.

The Inupiat of Northern Alaska won their rights to continue whaling in 1977. Between then and 2011, the population of the bowhead whale quadrupled because of their selective hunts. It is an example of success – the question is whether it could be repeated in other places, or whether the freedom would be abused. Perhaps a tight co-operation between aborigines and scientists could be the answer.

The morality of hunting

We’ve looked at this from the point of view of conservationists and aboriginal people, but has anyone asked the whales? Maybe who hunts for profit and who hunts for food doesn’t matter. The IWC moratorium has been put in place to replenish global whale “stocks”. The goal isn’t to protect whales but to ensure food security for future people. Surely, whales are more than objects for people to use. They are sentient, intelligent creatures, they live in tight-knit pods and communicate with each other. Perhaps killing them just isn’t justifiable in any case.

The vegan argument walks a thin line: are we spreading kindness and protecting animals from suffering, or oppressing people from a position of self-appointed moral superiority, stemming from ignorance and privilege?

Even if whaling was banned, aboriginal people would still hunt other animals, or import beef. We would save whales but not lives. Is killing a whale different to killing any other sentient being?

This one is not easy; it’s up to everyone to decide what they think, because there is no one right answer.

Final Word

Aboriginal whaling, as marginal a topic it may seem, is an immensely interesting case study of sustainable development that combines indigenous rights, animal rights and environmental protection. It highlights both the difficulties and the great benefits of including stakeholders in the decision-making process. Different sets of values clash and then meet limits of reality. There are no clean-cut solutions: the right thing to do has many folds and nuances. But that’s the beauty of dialogue.