Speak Well of Fish and Bears

Sometimes a name identifies a thing; and sometimes, a name defines it.

This thought came at me from two directions one weekend. The first time was during a presentation from Tammy Waldrop to the South Carolina Outdoor Press Association (SCOPE) at our annual conference.

Waldrop is a Wildlife Biologist with the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources and has served as the Upstate Black Bear Coordinator. Her presentation to SCOPE covered bear behaviors, ongoing research, and human interactions with bears.

In her role, her phone rings every time someone sees a bear in their garbage or has a bear take down a bird feeder. And the call rates have been trending up with over 500 calls in the most recent year. She estimates that over half of the encounters between people and bears involve bird feeders and trash.

The way we describe bears often assigns blame to the bear.

In closing her talk, she made one last request of the room full of outdoor media professionals regarding bears. That is, don’t refer to them as problem or nuisance bears as that name immediately assigns blame. Instead, call them conflict bears.

I thought about this on the drive home, grabbed my mail upon my arrival, and found my October issue of Gray’s Sporting Journal. In it, Ted Williams has an article titled, “Trash Fish.” This article also addresses the names we give animals, in this case, fish.

His first sentence speaks to the training from his elders as he was growing up. “There are desirable species and undesirable species.” His article proceeds in defense of non-game native fish.

These thoughts on bears and fish follow similar logic. When we refer to species as “trash fish” or “problem bears,” we are inferring a value system upon them. Undeservedly since in many cases we don’t know the value of these fish in the ecosystem, and the bear isn’t a problem, it’s just being a bear.

I will share two disclaimers here. First, I live where bears live and enjoy seeing them. I don’t put out food or bait to attract bears as I prefer them wild. Still, spotting one in the woods is a moment I relish.

I keep cameras on the trails bears use and check them weekly, hoping to see new and unfamiliar bears passing through. The key words here are, “passing through.” I don’t want bears to depend on me in any way whatsoever.

Non-game fish can provide good sport.

Second, I enjoy catching suckers on my fly rod. It doesn’t happen often and the novelty of it makes me laugh. Perhaps once or twice in a good year one will pick up a nymph bouncing along the bottom. Suckers fight well and when I try to catch one on purpose I rarely succeed. It’s always an accidental catch and a surprise. The only fault of these fish is looking a little goofy by our standards.

If I post a sucker’s photo on Facebook or other social media, I get razzed just as you would suspect. No one asks where I caught it so they can find my fishing spot, and that is fine with me.

So, perhaps the fact that I don’t see bears as problems or suckers as trash makes it easy for me to say what follows. Words matter.

Who is to blame if the bear finds my bird feeder?

To Waldrop’s point, referring to a bear as a problem or a nuisance assigns the blame to the bear. Forget that one of us left the garbage where the scavenger could find it in the night or that a neighbor put food out so they could see the bear and trained it to search for more food around other houses. It’s just more comfortable but less productive to assign the blame to the bear and expect it to change. Or worse yet, have to be removed.

Along with the blame, this choice of words also transfers the responsibility for resolving this conflict. But I’ll give you a hint; bears will always be bears.

Bears will always be bears.

As for suckers and all other non-game fish, carp, gars, and the like, calling them a trash fish assigns a value to the species. Or to be more precise, no value. It gives us permission to overharvest, misuse, or pursue in whatever means we choose.

As Williams points out in his article, we probably don’t know the true value of these fish in their ecosystems. I suspect most fisheries biologists would agree since research dollars are skewed to the game fish we pursue, and not as much is known about non-game fish.

But one of the most important lessons I learned from my forestry and wildlife education is that everything is connected. Those suckers matter to some other species, whether these other species feed on them or share habitat with them. That I don’t know what this connection is or how it happens just means I don’t understand the value, not that there isn’t any.

So, since I spend much of my days using words, speaking, writing, or reading, I will try to choose the right ones. Conflict bear is more precise and true. Non-game fish is a better term than trash fish, though it could probably be improved on as well since some of them provide plenty of sport.

Williams said it better than I could, so I will borrow his words to close.

“Calling native fish ‘trash’ or ‘rough’ says nothing about them and lots about us.”

Just something to think about.

Jim Mize is still learning how to best use words. Jim’s award-winning book, The Jon Boat Years, is available online or you can purchase autographed copies at www.acreektricklesthroughit.com.