Ecosystem Collapse: The Hidden Impact of Ocean Biomass Loss
Written on
Understanding Our Connection to Marine Life
Have you ever truly considered what you consume from the ocean? I found myself pondering this while browsing the fish market recently. As I examined some fish fillets, I realized I had no idea what they looked like in their natural environment. So, I took out my phone and searched for 'Hake Fish.'
Our relationship with the ocean often reduces it to just another source of food. But where does this food originate? It’s not as if fish magically appear. The ocean is a complex web of life, where larger fish consume smaller creatures, which in turn rely on even tinier organisms, ranging from massive whales down to microscopic plankton.
What lies beneath the surface of this biological iceberg?
Surprisingly, we have a substantial understanding of ocean biomass. Let’s break it down.
Imagine the box containing the two hake fillets I purchased, totaling 5 kilograms—representing a segment of ocean life weighing between 1 to 10 kilograms. Next, consider a box of ten Dover soles, each weighing half a kilogram, equating to the same total mass but comprising more individual fish, each lighter. Continuing this pattern, we could envision boxes filled with 100 sardines, 1,000 Atlantic shrimp, and eventually, 10,000 tiny rock-pool snails, each just 1 gram.
Research reveals a crucial principle: for every tenfold decrease in size, the number of individuals increases tenfold, while maintaining the same total biomass across all life forms, from crustaceans and fish to marine mammals, bacteria, and sea stars. Categorizing each creature by size and aggregating their mass gives us an intriguing picture of ocean life.
The pristine biomass spectrum of the ocean indicates a historic total of about 1 gigatonne (one billion tonnes) of life in each size category. This encompasses ranges from 0.1 kilo to 1 kilo, down to 0.1 gram to 1 gram, creating a vast, unseen world of life.
Healthy oceans operate on this intricate principle, where for every fish visible, there’s a staggering eighteen times more mass of smaller life forms beneath it. The entire ocean ecosystem spans an astonishing twenty-three orders of magnitude in size, with the largest creatures being a trillion trillion times the mass of the smallest, rendering 61% of ocean biomass invisible without advanced tools.
However, this balance was not always so precarious. Back in 1850, it thrived, but today? The situation is drastically different. What has happened to this balance? The answer is simple: we have taken it. Human activities, including fishing, have depleted vital resources and disrupted the natural energy flow of the ocean. Although the total mass of humanity is around 0.4 gigatonnes, our actions have led to a staggering loss of approximately 2.7 gigatonnes of marine life.
Consider the implications: by overfishing, we are fundamentally altering entire ecosystems. The energy that should circulate within the ocean is being siphoned off, and nutrients are lost, destabilizing the balance of life.
Direct human impact on ocean biomass is glaringly apparent. For species larger than 10 grams, an alarming 60% are now missing, and in the realm of whales, nearly 90% of their biomass has vanished.
The Plight of Humpback Whales
Humpback whales, once on the brink of extinction due to centuries of relentless hunting, saw their numbers plummet to a mere 1,200 to 1,600 individuals in the North Pacific by the mid-1970s. However, following a ban on commercial whaling in 1982, they began to rebound, reaching nearly 33,500 by 2012, with an impressive annual growth rate of 6% between 2002 and 2013. This resurgence was celebrated as a conservation triumph, but the joy was short-lived.
Research published in the Royal Society Open Science revealed that the North Pacific humpback population declined by 20% between 2013 and 2021, coinciding with a period of extreme temperatures in the region. A severe marine heatwave from 2014 to 2016 raised sea temperatures by 3–6°C above average in the northeast Pacific, disrupting the essential nutrient flow in the ocean. The consequences were devastating: nutrient-starved waters led to the collapse of phytoplankton populations, the foundation of the marine food chain, triggering a cascading failure across the entire ecosystem.
Whales, too, felt the repercussions. Approximately 7,000 humpbacks vanished from the North Pacific during this timeframe, primarily due to food shortages.
"It was a tragic event," explained Ted Cheeseman, a biologist from Southern Cross University in Lismore, Australia, who led the study. "Humpbacks are adaptable, but when the ecosystem falters, they suffer alongside it."
Prolonged heatwaves not only starve whales but also lead to malnutrition, increasing their vulnerability to diseases. Research in Antarctica has already shown that warmer waters adversely affect humpback pregnancy rates. In the Hawaiian channel between Maui and Lanai, encounters between mothers and calves plummeted by nearly 77% from 2013 to 2018, indicating a severe decline in reproductive success.
The Whaling Cascade: A Complex Web of Feeding Relationships
The consequences of whaling extend far beyond just the whales themselves. They disrupt the delicate balance of entire ecosystems. Take the Southern Ocean, where the blue whale, the largest animal on Earth, plays a crucial role. Like all creatures, blue whales surface for air after feeding and, in doing so, leave behind nutrient-rich waste.
This waste becomes a vital nutrient source for the ocean's inhabitants.
In the Southern Ocean's straightforward food chain, phytoplankton generates energy through photosynthesis, producing more than 50% of the oxygen in our atmosphere and sequestering 10 gigatons of CO2—equivalent to the carbon captured by 1.7 trillion trees, or four Amazon forests, annually. These shifts can disrupt energy transfers within the food chain, jeopardizing ecosystems and the global climate by altering natural CO2 uptake.
In this region, energy transfers are typically gradual, but Antarctic krill provide an expedited route. These shrimp-like crustaceans serve as the ocean's vacuum cleaners, capturing and consuming microorganisms that are 10,000 times smaller.
In turn, krill become prey for blue whales, their primary predator. An adult blue whale can consume around 16 tons of krill daily. However, the population of blue whales dramatically declined due to human hunting, dropping to just 1–2% of the original population by 1966.
The absence of these apex predators led to unexpected consequences; rather than a krill population boom, their numbers plummeted by 80% in areas where whales once thrived. This decline has had cascading effects throughout the Southern Ocean's food web, impacting seals, penguins, squid, and fish that rely on krill.
The underlying issue? A lack of iron, essential for processes like photosynthesis and respiration. Although the Southern Ocean is rich in other nutrients, it is deficient in iron.
No whales → no iron → no phytoplankton → no phytoplankton → no krill.
Here’s where the cycle comes full circle. The iron-rich waste from whales fertilizes the ocean, promoting phytoplankton growth. While phytoplankton doesn’t directly consume whale waste, it absorbs the iron released into the water, facilitating its development.
Life on Earth is a continuous cycle of recycling. Atoms from ancient organisms and environments are repurposed, constantly reshaping life forms and ecosystems. Each atom in our bodies may have once belonged to something else, perpetually moving through time and space.
Thus, when discussing whaling, we aren’t merely addressing the act of hunting whales; we are confronting the disruption of a complex balance that sustains our planet. This serves as a poignant reminder that every action, regardless of its scale, reverberates throughout the web of life.
Can We Repair the Broken?
The future of our ecosystems remains uncertain. There will inevitably be winners and losers. Climate change exacerbates existing challenges, affecting food chains and patterns, connecting previously isolated areas, and isolating connected regions.
The only guarantee is uncertainty.
By treating the ocean as a dumping ground, we risk further degradation of conditions.
Consider the impact of a cement factory built in an old woodland: increased traffic, job creation, pollution, and wildlife loss are all observable consequences. In contrast, dredging the ocean floor for fish leaves much of the damage hidden. The long-term effects remain largely unknown, with only the price of fish and the number of jobs in the fishing industry being visible.
We must remain vigilant regarding our oceanic activities, as it is all too easy to overlook the bigger picture beneath the waves.
Addressing isolated issues will not suffice; we need to recognize the ocean as an interconnected, complex system that is integral to our lives and global energy flows.
Our culture has long ignored the reality of living on a finite planet. We have built, expanded, consumed, and created without acknowledging our planet's life-support system. Our disconnection from the natural world has deprived us of the joy of being part of something greater. Despite this disregard, the ocean remains a vital force of life, shaping our history, culture, and the marine life forms we encounter.
So, what comes next? How do we navigate the future? Are our actions driven by self-satisfaction or genuine benefit to the natural world in the long run?
The answer lies beyond mere knowledge or technological solutions. It calls for a fundamental shift in perspective. We need to redefine our relationship with the ocean, embracing our role as stewards of this vast, intricate system.
Be heard.
Thank you for your attentive reading and support! Join the 400+ member Antarctic Sapiens community for weekly insights.
In the video "Riverine Food Webs - How Flow Rates Affect Biomass," the complex relationships within aquatic ecosystems are explored, revealing how changes in flow rates can significantly impact biomass levels and food web dynamics.
The video "Predict How Changes in an Ecosystem Affect Food Webs" illustrates the interconnectedness of ecosystems, emphasizing how alterations in one aspect can ripple through and affect the entire food web.