Taiji Dolphin Hunt: Examining and Considering the Role of Littoral Practices in a Littoral Society

Abstract

Taiji’s dolphin hunting practices have been surrounded by fervent debate and argument in recent history. The two sides are clear, but despite extreme action on both sides, a solution has not yet been found. Using Michael N. Pearson’s essay titled “Littoral Society: The Concept and the Problems” as a framework, I present an original argument that may be useful to push the issue away from center and inform an end to the debate about the Taiji dolphin hunt. By pinpointing specific examples of existing littoral societies, namely pirates, Hawaiian surfers, and Monterey sardine fisherman, strong comparisons and thus realistic conclusions can be drawn about the littoral-ness of Taiji fishermen as well as the practice of dolphin hunting there. Because Taiji fishermen do not act as stewards of the sea, lack symbiosis (which is the earmark of a littoral society), and do not necessarily rely on the sea for sustenance both economic and otherwise practical, it is inappropriate to consider them as participants in a littoral society.

Background

The dolphin hunt has roots in the Japanese commercial whaling industry dating back to 1606. Japanese whaling itself is estimated to have started in the 12th century by the Japanese Whaling Association. Taiji enters the timeline with a specific mention in 1675, denoting the first uses of whaling nets which directly contributed to the rapid expansion of the practice. Interestingly, the Japanese Whaling Association mentions Norway, the U.S. and other “western” nations in their timeline of Japanese whaling. Many other entries in the timeline highlight innovations that make whaling easier and safer as well bringing attention to specific bans and quittances of certain practices, like mothership whaling. Not a single time is the word “dolphin” mentioned.

The Taiji dolphin hunt is not an artifact of history, but rather a contemporary event with active players and even more active defenders. Because of this unique positionality in the historical timeline, the focus of this paper will be on primary sources gathered from newspapers from around the world in order to affect multiple perspectives so as to avoid the pitfalls of focusing too narrowly on one ideology. However, this paper will focus very narrowly through Pearson’s lens of littoral-ism, making a concerted effort to exclude emotional appeal that can’t be supported through hard evidence. 

Michael N. Pearson defines a littoral people as having “a symbiosis between land and sea.” It is primarily through this standard that I will evaluate Taiji as a littoral society as well as dolphin hunting as a practice or activity.

Analysis

A robust metric by which littoral societies can be legitimized or not is through comparison to other groups that already pass the litmus test. By examining how well or not a specific group of people or elements of an activity adhere to Pearson’s standards of an established littoral society, a relatively accurate evaluation can be made about the respective “littoral-ness” of the subject in question. The best place to start this evaluation would be to look at how the sea is used by these established societies, and pick out the similarities and differences pertaining to Taiji.

The sea and its properties are used by littoral societies as tools to accomplish an ulterior goal. In this way, the sea becomes a critical and irreplaceable part of their identity -- without it there is no accomplishment and thus no existence. For example, Hawaiians use the sea to recreate and more importantly to practice their spirituality. Monterey fishermen used sealife to provide sustenance and industry. It was a tool to make money and directly affected their livelihood. Even pirates, despite their sometimes heinous actions, used the sea as a medium by which they could maintain sovereignty and voice their political opinions surrounding colonization. Because the sea was viewed as a tool for these littoral people, their activities also included an element of stewardship. Stewardship is an often overlooked facet of why littoral societies succeed at all -- without careful attention to the sea and the maintenance of its use, these societies would lose their most critical provider of identity. Hawaiians were intrinsically interested in the protection of their littoral zone because it represented their spiritual beliefs. Monterey sardine fishermen all agreed to self-enforce catch limits to ensure a sustainable future. Pirates did not commit crimes against the sea or sea life itself. Their battle was with the colonizing powers, and since the sea was their battleground on which they had the advantage, it was in their best interest to study it, appreciate it, and thus steward it.

Like the aforementioned littoral groups, Taiji fisherman certainly use the sea as a tool. Simply put, the sea provides dolphins which are taken for sustenance as well as economic gain. By this metric alone, a strong argument can be made that Taiji is indeed a littoral society. However, with consideration that all three groups practice a degree of stewardship, Taiji becomes an outlier. Perhaps the best point of comparison for Taiji is the fisherman of Monterey. Both groups fish for economic gain and sustenance. By isolating the practice itself, the differences in stewardship become more glaring. Sardine fisherman essentially self-imposed catch limits and reliably self-enforced them. They set themselves up for a continuous future of sardine fishing with little to no issue of scarcity. Taiji dolphin hunters have also agreed to catch limits for the hunting season, but “evidence that fisherman in the town have illegally caught more than 400 dolphins and whales in excess of their quotas in the past five years” has since surfaced in a lawsuit against the dolphin hunters. Given this evidence, it’s clear that Taiji dolphin hunters do not necessarily have the future of the population in mind. They are not stewards of the environment, but rather aggravators of easily preventable endangerments. This detail alone disqualifies Taiji dolphin hunting as a littoral activity, because of the lack of sustainability for their own source of economic security and sustenance.

Even the argument for sustenance can be easily countered by examining dolphin meat itself. On the most basic level, food is a necessary requirement for societies both littoral and non-littoral to maintain themselves. One dolphin is large enough to feed quite a few people, and when expanded to hundreds of dolphins a month, is enough to feed many for a long time. A littoral society would take advantage of this plentiful food source to guarantee a well-fed future, thus making the consumption of ‘the catch’ a critical part of the littoral practice. However, dolphin meat is not widely consumed, an assertion corroborated by The Asian Reporter, a news media outlet located in Portland, Oregon. They report that “most Japanese [people] have never eaten dolphin meat and, even in Taiji, it is not consumed regularly.” This evidence exists even without mentioning that dolphin meat itself contains dangerously high levels of toxic mercury, and is agreed upon to be unsafe for human consumption. Given Pearson’s standards for what makes a littoral society, the majority of the littoral peoples must be involved in the respective practice. Since few people directly benefit from the dolphin hunt, the practice of dolphin hunting can be ruled out from littoral status.

Another disqualifier of Taiji’s dolphin hunt as a littoral activity is to compare the circumstances and necessities of its practice. Sailors, soldiers, and merchantmen resorted to piracy because their cultures and nations were under attack. Fishermen of Taiji do not share these qualities. Their national and even communal identities are not under attack from an aggressor that wishes to control them. While not as robust as the stewardship aspect of the argument, the fact that Taiji fishermen have not yet exhausted other possibilities of economic gain and sustenance implies that dolphin hunting could be found unnecessary and thus not critical to their existence as a littoral people. Replacing dolphin meat with fish filets could prove to be a productive and more agreeable way of maintaining a littoral identity.

Dolphin hunters themselves do not necessarily find anything wrong with their practices. Oftentimes, practitioners of controversial things find excuses and reasons pertaining to various necessary evils to justify otherwise wrongful actions. The fishermen of Taiji seemingly do not subscribe to this mode of thought because their worldview does not ascribe any wrongfulness to it in the first place. The dolphins are such an intrinsic part of Taiji’s identity that a new aquarium and zoo was constructed in 2012 featuring a pool dedicated to a celebration of the dolphin. It seems ethically ironic that “the town made infamous for its annual slaughter of hundreds of dolphins, tourists will now be able to swim and play with the mammals in a zoo near where the cull takes place.” Emotional rhetoric aside, maintaining such a reverence for dolphins hints at the importance they have to the people of Taiji. The fact that they can hunt dolphins with irrefutably gruesome methods while also celebrating their intelligence and life through shows and entertainment lends some credibility to the idea that dolphins are an integral part of Taiji culture. After all, whaling and cetacean hunting has been a landmark part of Taiji’s history since the 12th century. 

Taiji’s local government fiercely defends this piece of identity, but it might be failing and soon subject to alteration. The New York Times reports that “there is also a strong taboo in the Japanese news media against any criticism of the country’s farmers and fishermen, often depicted as heroic defenders of a way of life that is fast disappearing.” Generally, Japan, Taiji especially, perceives its fishermen as the last defenders of a culture they were once proud of and known for. By continuing the hunt in similar ways that artisans continue ancient craft-making, they are keeping alive a part of their identity that was and is important to them. Conversely to the argument that Taiji dolphin hunters are not littoral, this perspective argues that the hunts are precisely what make the practice littoral at all. It chooses not to separate the practice from the people, implying that if one is littoral, so must be the other. That sentiment may be rapidly changing, however, since “in recent years… the town has become increasingly divided on dolphin hunting.” Just as people participate in a society they may choose to stop participating. If this is truly the case, the attitude of Taiji residents themselves may decide that the tradition of dolphin hunting might not be worth the modern implications and criticism that comes with it. The implications of such a tradition would be the revocation of the littoral-ness of the practice, since it must be critical to their identity to be considered littoral at all.

The division of opinion within Japan is made apparent when an anti-hunt activist and a pro-hunt filmmaker engage in a debate during a protest in London in 2018. The two dig into the main topics surrounding the Taiji hunt specifically and ask each other questions, but interestingly devolve into comparing two incompatible things. The activist largely bases his argument on the expected emotional grounds. The pro-hunt filmmaker takes an approach more akin to the capitalist and rational thoughts of an economic state. She asks a somewhat rhetorical question that can be summarized as such: would it be better if [Taiji fishermen] sold dolphins for less money? She seemed to be genuinely curious if her British opposer would be less disgusted if the selling price wasn’t so high, thus devaluing the life of the dolphin and as a result making the sale less of an issue. His response was “no money.” This didn’t quite compute with her established worldview -- it was as if she couldn’t imagine a situation where dolphins weren’t for sale. In a way, this strengthens the idea that dolphin hunting is indeed critical to the littoral identity of Taiji, and thus would qualify dolphin hunting as a littoral activity itself.

Conclusion

Despite there existing a compelling argument for either side, it seems that Pearson’s definition might have to be expanded or that his essay did not quite treat every potential aspect of littoral-ism. Clearly, the practice of hunting dolphins can be easily dismantled in the conversation about littoral activity as it doesn’t quite check all the boxes that would confirm it. However, Taiji fishermen seem to hold their littoral identity dear and even defend it as heroes in the eyes of Japanese authority. In this way, the practice and the society are separate. Dolphin hunting in Taiji being characteristically “un-littoral” does not automatically disqualify Taiji’s society from being littoral. By adopting this perspective, historians may expand the scope of maritime history and vet littoral societies in more specific, and thus justified ways.

Bibliography

Crawley Observer. “Dolphin Hunt Protesters Meet Pro-Hunt Filmmaker,” Crawley (UK), 

20 Feb 2018.

Japan Whaling Assocation. “History of Whaling.” Date of Access: 12 Mar. 2021. 

https://www.whaling.jp/english/history.html. 

Kageyama, Yuri. “Dolphins Herded into Japanese Cove but None Killed,” The Asian 

Reporter, vol. 20, 20 Sept. 2010.

McCurry, Justin. “Taiji Dolphin Hunt: Activists to Launch Unprecedented Legal 

Challenge,” The Guardian (Online), London, UK: Guardian News & Media Limited . 13 Feb 2019.

McCurry, Justin. “Town Infamous for Dolphin Cull to Build Maritime Zoo,” The Guardian 

(London), 10 May 2012, p. 21.

Pearson, Michael N. “Littoral Society: The Concept and The Problems,” Journal of 

World History, University of Hawai’i Press, vol. 17, no. 4, 2006.

Tabuchi, Hiroko. “From Sea to Supermarket: Harrowing Look at Hunts: Foreign Desk,” 

New York Tmes Company, New York, 23 Oct. 2009.

By: Chris King

Originally written on March 10, 2021