Protect Orcas, Protect Cultures, and Protect “Worlds”
In the early 1980s, a fashion-conscious female orca donned her elegant “hat” — a dead salmon. Her eye-catching behavior attracted a large following, and more and more orcas began to imitate her style. Soon, this “fashion trend” spread to different orca pods, with many orcas swimming around with dead salmon perched on their heads.
People observed this phenomenon in the waters off Washington State, sparking human curiosity — and confusion: Why would orcas place dead salmon on their heads? Was it a way to store food? A form of play? Or a form of social imitation?
What’s even more interesting is that this trend didn’t last very long. A few years later, it had almost vanished from public view. It wasn’t until 2024 that researchers again documented the emergence of similar behavior. It was as if a long-dormant fashion trend had returned to orca society.
Faced with such phenomena, humans are always eager to find a functional explanation. We’re accustomed to asking: What’s the benefit of doing this? Does it help them hunt? Does it improve their survival rate?
But perhaps we’re asking the wrong questions.
When a certain style of clothing, hairstyle, or meme becomes popular among humans, we rarely question whether these behaviors have survival value. We view these phenomena as part of culture: they may not be efficient or practical, yet they spread among groups and shape a shared sense of identity among their members.
If that is the case, can the “fashion trend” of orcas wearing salmon on their heads also be considered a form of culture?
In fact, “Salmon Hats” are not the only example of orca culture. Orcas in different regions have distinct dialects, different hunting techniques, and even different dietary preferences. Some orcas have hunted salmon for generations, while others specialize in hunting seals; some families use unique vocalizations to communicate, and these sounds are passed down through the matrilineal lineage from generation to generation. Even when living in similar environments, different orca groups have developed distinctly different ways of life.
Get Evelyn Jiu’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
These differences do not stem from genetics, but from learning.
In other words, orcas pass down not only genes but also knowledge, habits, and traditions. They possess their own culture.
And this led me to ponder another question: Why is culture worth protecting?
When a human language disappears, we lament its loss; when an ancient building is demolished, we call for its preservation; when traditional festivals are gradually forgotten, we strive to document and pass them on. We do this not merely because these things have practical value, but because culture embodies a community’s way of understanding the world. It documents how a community lives, communicates, and remembers who it is.
If we are willing to protect human culture, why not protect orca culture as well?
When an orca pod disappears, we lose more than just a few orcas. Along with them vanish unique dialects, hunting knowledge passed down through generations, distinctive social customs, and traditions that humans may never fully understand.
We lose more than just individual animals.
We lose a unique worldview — a culture distinct from that of humans, yet just as real.
Reference
Nuwer, R. (2024, October 4). The strange story behind the return of orcas wearing “salmon hats”. National Geographic.
