http://www.guardian.co.uk/animalrights/story/0,,2107775,00.html
Do fish have feelings too?
Animal rights campaigners are turning their attention to aquariums. But
should
we really get worked up about angel fish and guppies, wonders Harry Pearson
Thursday June 21, 2007
The Guardian
When I was a child, my Aunt Nancy had a tank of tropical fish - guppies,
black
mollies, angelfish - in the front room of her house in Redcar. If anyone
asked
if the fish had enough space, her reply was automatic. "Oh yes," she would
say.
"You see, they only have a memory of five seconds." The fish, it seemed,
swam
to one end of the aquarium and by the time they had got there, they had
forgotten everything they had seen. As a result, the fish found this small
box
of water as infinite and fascinating as the universe.
That fish have an incredibly short memory is known to everyone.
Unfortunately,
like many well-known "facts", it is not true. Several years ago researchers
at
the Australian Veterinary Association blew the five-second-memory idea right
out of the water. Today, the generally held view is that fish have a memory
span of at least a few months.
Now it seems that, as well as worrying about chickens, big cats and veal
calves, we are starting to worry about fish too. In a cafe the other week,
the
man at the other end of the table reacted vehemently when I mentioned taking
the children to a local aquarium. "They're worse than a circus," he said,
waving aside my vague protests about breeding programmes and education.
"They
let those local radio DJs swim in the big tank. People get married in
there."
He glared at me. "You should try putting yourself in the fishes' position."
The animal rights campaigners are already turning out on their behalf: last
month the Captive Animals' Protection Society (Caps) welcomed a government
zoo
inspection that listed several concerns about conditions at Bolton aquarium,
including whether the knife fish's tank was of sufficient size, and a battle
is
being fought to prevent a National Institute of Research into Aquatic
Habitats
being built in Bedfordshire. This would be the biggest aquarium in the
world. A
little while ago, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals launched its
Empathy Project, a campaign designed to make people more aware of the
feelings
of fish. But I have, as it happens, been advised to put myself in the fish's
position on many occasions, usually by my father when I was a boy during our
many angling trips. For those of a sensitive nature I should say that no
fish
were ever hurt during these expeditions, even on the occasion in the west of
Ireland when my father, convinced that the trout leaping all around our boat
were mocking him, took a swing at one of them with his walking stick.
In truth, the man in the cafe was only pushing on an already sore point: my
conscience had been pricked on holiday in Scotland last year when we passed
a
series of fish farms. I had never really thought about what a fish farm
would
look like. Subconsciously I had formed an image of something a bit like an
ordinary farm. At the back of my mind was the image of an aquatic version of
The Archers. The truth was altogether less bucolic. A grim breakwater, rows
of
steel cages. It was more Cell Block H than Ambridge.
So I went to the Blue Reef aquarium in Tynemouth, determined to, once again,
"put myself in the fish's position". To me, at least, the Blue Reef aquarium
is
considerably more cheery than a fish farm. It looks like one of those
bathrooms
that has been decorated with a seaside theme: blue walls, shellfish motifs,
starfish patterns. The sound of breaking waves wafts from the speakers,
causing
havoc among the bladders of assorted tots.
The longhorn cowfish is a small rotund creature with the chubby cheeks of
Cyndi
Lauper and movements that suggest it is powered by clockwork. Normally the
sight of one would fill me with childlike glee, but now I study it with
new-found concern. I wonder if it has enough space and whether the cries of
the
small blond boy bouncing up and down in front of a tank of common clownfish
yelping, "Mam, mam! It's Nemo, mam!" is irritating it as much as it is me.
"I spend half my life telling people fish aren't stupid," says Dr Culum
Brown,
a specialist in fish behaviour at Macquarie University in Sydney, and
co-author
of Fish Cognition and Behaviour. According to Brown, "Fish are more
intelligent
than they appear. In many areas, such as memory, their cognitive powers
match
or exceed those of 'higher' vertebrates including non-human primates." Fish
learn and pass on what they have learned just as any other animal does.
Brown's studies suggest that older fish teach younger fish about predators,
for
example, including the sound of trawler engines. "The trouble is that most
aquaculture treats fish as if they are little robots. They are not." A study
commissioned by Caps gave a long list of abnormal behaviours that may
indicate
stress and neurological dysfunction. They include abnormal feeding,
shelter-seeking, bottom-sitting, head-standing, tail-walking. Repetitive
behaviours, in particular, were seen in 90% of the aquariums visited for the
study.
I look into the eyes of the sea bass at the Blue Reef aquarium, studying it
for
intelligence. Is it, as Rupert Brooke suggested in his poem Heaven,
pondering
"deep wisdom, dark or clear/Each secret fishy hope or fear"? Or is its mind
as
blank as its eyes?
Perhaps intelligence is the wrong criterion, anyway. Just because a living
creature has a short attention span and is of limited intellect, is no
reason
to put it behind glass and stare at it all day, even if it did work for Big
Brother. What about the fishes' living conditions? Public aquaria, like
zoos,
are governed by the 1981 Zoo Licensing Act, which does not lay down any
regulations about tank (or cage) size. And the Department for Environment,
Food
and Rural Affairs' standards for modern zoo practice are not specific about
space. "Providing for their needs" is the closest it gets. This offers
enough
loopholes, frankly, for a humphead wrasse to swim through.
We know fish are frightened by sound - sensed as vibrations along their
bodies
- but is the noise of the aquarium with its yelps and squeaks and
announcements
that feeding time for the seals starts in five minutes outweighed by its
advantages? "A trout wants regular food with limited risk and a minimum
outlay
of energy," my dad used to say. By those criteria, the aquarium is an ideal
place for a fish. And while I would like to think that the inhabitants of
Blue
Reef would be happier in the oceans, swimming with the sharks and the
dolphins,
in the end I tend to agree with my father. Though admittedly his record as
an
angler suggests he knew more about the habits of rusted bicycle frames and
old
tyres than about any living creature.