The Atlantic Salmon Myth: The more farmed, the more endangered? | Recommended Reading

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The Atlantic salmon is known more commonly in China as ‘salmon’ (sanwenyu). Last week, we published a piece on salmon farming, ‘Is Salmon Truly “Free”?’. But what of the state of wild salmon? We may have forgotten what truly wild salmon is; they are almost impossible to find on the market—not because they are prohibitively expensive, but because they are vanishing from the planet at an alarming rate. Fifty years ago, half of every million salmon that swam into the Atlantic successfully returned; today, that figure has plummeted to 3%. In his book *Vanishing Food*, veteran BBC journalist Dan Saladino chronicles this unfolding ‘extinction’. Just as we imagine that aquaculture has ‘liberated’ wild salmon and made ‘salmon freedom’ a reality for the many, the 400 million salmon held in pens along the coast of Norway now outnumber all the wild salmon in the world. Meanwhile, those truly wild salmon—capable of leaping waterfalls, crossing oceans, and completing an epic life journey of thousands of kilometres—are bordering on extinction…

◉ Dan Saladino and the English edition cover of *Vanishing Foods*. The following content is an excerpt from the ‘Wild Atlantic Salmon’ chapter of the book, courtesy of Beiye Books.

The Atlantic salmon is a creature of paradox. On one hand, it has become one of the rarest animals in the ocean: few of us are fortunate enough to see (or taste) one in the wild. Yet, fish farming has made it one of the most commonplace animals in the world. In just a few decades, aquaculture has transformed a delicacy once reserved for the few into a global commodity and the most widely traded fish on earth. Perhaps, ten thousand years after humans began domesticating cattle, pigs, and sheep, we have set this fish upon the same path: through farming, the animal breeds in abundance within cages (underwater sea cages), while vanishing from its natural environment. Yet, we cannot help but worry for the fate of the wild Atlantic salmon. This fish serves as a natural barometer for the health of the planet, occupying a unique position. It can transform itself from a freshwater fish to a saltwater fish, and then back again. This means that over the course of its life cycle, it travels from inland rivers to the ocean, and then returns to the river. Through the salmon, we can witness the cumulative impact of human activity—from deforestation and dam construction to pollution, overfishing, and the driving of climate change—on the natural world. The precipitous decline of this species sounds an alarm for the changes occurring on both land and sea. If we wish to save the salmon, we must stop destroying the planet—it is as simple as that.

It is an elusive fish, and its life cycle is even more miraculous. A female salmon deposits around 8,000 eggs among the river gravel, and male salmon compete to fertilise them. Eight weeks later, fry hatch from their golden eggs, spending the next 30 days growing on nutrients from their yolk sacs. Once they grow from fry into parr, they leave the shallow, gravelly reaches and swim into deeper, more dangerous waters. In these deeper zones, a salmon must survive for up to three years, finding enough food to reach 15cm in length and develop sufficient muscle before it can finally undertake the great journey to the sea. It must then complete a grueling endurance swim of thousands of miles to find rich feeding grounds in the North Atlantic. If it is lucky enough to evade predators and storms, it will swim upstream two or three years later, overcoming every obstacle to return to the gravelly stream where it first hatched. There, at the site that marks both its beginning and its end, it will spawn. Of the original 8,000 eggs, only two will complete this entire life cycle. It is one of the most astonishing processes in the natural world.

◉ A juvenile Atlantic salmon in Scatter Creek, Washington State. Image source: Roger Tabor/USFWS

To leave their freshwater homes and enter the salt waters of the ocean, salmon undergo a physiological transformation known as smoltification. Millions of years ago, as the oceans cooled and became a richer source of food, salmon evolved this biological trait. This process allows them to ‘silver’; their bodies become more streamlined and their skin turns silver and more reflective, providing better camouflage in the open sea.In the rivers, salmon are highly territorial and aggressive; however, as they move into deeper waters and gather in shoals, their temperament becomes milder. In the lower reaches of the river, as they approach the sea, salmon take one final ‘sample’ of the water’s chemical composition. Scientists believe it is this ‘imprinting’ that allows them to find their way home after travelling thousands of miles across the ocean.In the estuaries, where fresh and salt water meet, salmon adjust their gills and change their breathing patterns to adapt to the new environment, swimming closer to the surface. There, they gorge themselves on large zooplankton, such as crustaceans, squid, small fish, and krill. Yet, while hunting others, they too become the hunted—preyed upon by cormorants, sharks, sea lions, seals, and, of course, humans.

This incredible feat of the salmon population takes place across the North Atlantic, spanning more than 2,000 rivers and tributaries in Europe and North America. From Norway in the north to Spain and Portugal in the south, and from Russia in the east to Canada in the west, Atlantic salmon can be found. Regardless of their origin, Atlantic salmon eventually congregate to feed in the waters off the west coast of Greenland and near the Faroe Islands. Here, they grow to twice their original size and put on fat to withstand the chill of the North Atlantic and build up energy reserves for their return migration.

Much of what occurs in the salmon’s life cycle belongs to what Rachel Carson called the ‘ultimate mystery’. We do not truly understand how salmon find their way back (it may be a combination of memory, scent, solar navigation, and the Earth’s magnetic field), nor do we know how they determine when it is time to return. We only know that salmon will migrate at any cost. Near the town of Clohen in County Donegal, Ireland, along the 40-mile stretch of the River Finn, salmon encounter what seems an insurmountable obstacle. Water plunges down a ten-foot waterfall, crashing violently against the hard rock.Salmon swim up from the pool at the base, attempting to leap again and again. Some propel themselves from the surface or the rock face with a flick of their tails in a series of staggered bounds, while others launch themselves high into the air. During this stage, the migrating salmon are still relying on their internal energy reserves. Once they return to the river, they stop feeding entirely, whether it takes days, weeks, or months to reach their birthplace. However, having spent years feeding in the ocean, they are at the peak of their physical powers. Thus, for the predators waiting on the riverbanks—both human and animal—the migrating salmon are at their prime.

The poet Seamus Heaney loved fishing from a young age, and he used to fish for salmon east of the Clohen falls in County Donegal. He described seeing their shimmering silver bodies, blue-green scales, and torpedo-like heads as they broke the surface, fighting their way back to the waters of their birth. Heaney’s poem, ‘To Salmon’, was published in 1969. At that time, the total population of wild Atlantic salmon was around 10 million. Today, that number is less than 2 million. By contrast, another species—the Sockeye salmon (which shared a common evolutionary ancestor with the Atlantic salmon 20 million years ago)—still returns to its natal rivers by the tens of millions. This makes the drastic decline of the Atlantic salmon all the more terrifying. Fifty years ago, half of every million salmon that left their rivers for the Atlantic successfully returned to spawn in their homeland and complete their life cycle. Now, only 30,000 can do so. Although the world is trying to uncover the cause, we still cannot fully explain why Atlantic salmon have suffered such a precipitous drop. For any species, when numbers fall this low, the future becomes precarious. Some marine scientists believe that wild Atlantic salmon could truly face extinction.

In May this year, the author of this book was interviewed by Foodthink at the Third International Conference on Agricultural Biodiversity.

The primary feeding grounds for Atlantic salmon are located off the west coast of Greenland, where thousands of salmon from various rivers congregate. Today, these waters have become targets for industrial fishing. In the 1970s, large Norwegian fleets were catching between two and three million salmon annually—potentially more than the total number of salmon in the world today. It was not until the 1980s that an international agreement was reached to halt this unrestrained plunder. Now, most commercial salmon fishing has been prohibited; in Ireland, only a handful of fishermen with long-standing licences are permitted to fish at river mouths. Net fishing has also declined significantly in Scotland, the UK, and Norway. Yet, salmon numbers continue to fall. There are serious problems in our rivers and oceans.

Ken Whelan, Ireland’s most authoritative salmon scientist, believes that changing ocean temperatures are a major potential factor. “In some of the areas where salmon feed, the plankton have disappeared,” he says. Meanwhile, new fish species have appeared off the south coast of Ireland. “Warming waters have attracted Triggerfish from the Caribbean and Sea Bream from the Mediterranean, which compete with salmon for food. The ocean is changing, and salmon are among the victims.”

Herein lies the paradox. While wild salmon numbers are dwindling, the total population of Atlantic salmon is increasing rapidly. It is estimated that at any given time, there are approximately 400 million salmon in fish pens along the Norwegian coast alone. The number of salmon in just ten of these giant pens exceeds the total number of wild salmon in all the world’s rivers, streams, and the Atlantic Ocean. As wild salmon decline, farmed salmon are thriving. Some believe the two are linked.

◉The chart shows the global production (in tonnes) of the four primary farmed salmonid species. From top to bottom: Atlantic salmon, Rainbow trout, Coho salmon, and Chinook salmon. Atlantic salmon farming experienced explosive growth after the 1980s, surging from fewer than 100,000 tonnes to over 2 million tonnes by 2010. Image source: Wikipedia; Data source: FAO Species Fact Sheets.

The majority of the world’s farmed salmon come from a handful of Norwegian companies, including Lerøy Seafood Group and SalMar, the largest of which is Mowi. Mowi operates farms in the waters of Norway, the Faroe Islands, Scotland, Canada, and Ireland, producing nearly a quarter of the global consumption of salmon. Mowi’s global operations even extend Atlantic salmon farming to the Chilean coast south of the equator. I had the opportunity to visit Mowi’s operations from start to finish on the west coast of Scotland. At the hatchery, I saw newly hatched fry, their eyes still tightly encased in egg membranes. Mowi has 25 farms in Scotland; at one of them, I saw hundreds of thousands of salmon swimming in endless circles in the pens, with the occasional fish breaking the surface in a leap. “I entered this industry as an environmentalist,” Ian Roberts, a Mowi manager, told me during the tour, “I wanted to stop fishermen from catching the last of the wild salmon from the sea, so I provided them with an alternative.” He arrived at this conclusion because, in recent decades, much of the growing global demand for fish has been met through aquaculture. More than half of the seafood consumed by humans now comes from aquaculture.

◉A modern salmon farm. Image source: Mowi
Inland on the west coast of Scotland lies a farm belonging to Mowi. There, salmon spend the first seven months of their life cycle in a cavernous, warehouse-like hatchery. In this facility, located within the Loch Alsh industrial estate, every minute detail of the salmon’s existence is monitored and controlled around the clock. As long as stress levels are kept low, the salmon can maintain a rapid growth rate. From the top of a metal staircase, I watched 150,000 fish swimming clockwise in a vast tank of sterilised water. To trigger the physiological change required for the salmon to transition from freshwater fish to deep-sea fish, the farm uses light as an inducement. For several consecutive weeks, the light is kept very dim, creating a “simulated winter” for the shoal; subsequently, the warehouse is flooded with light, as if spring had arrived. This prompts the fish to begin swimming in the opposite direction, and their gills and skin begin to change. However, at the Loch Alsh hatchery, they cannot swim down a river to the sea; instead, they swim through massive pipes into tanker trucks. You see only a flurry of frantic black shadows struggling against the pull of the water pumps, with even the most capable “swimmers” remaining in the transparent piping for only a second. A converted whaling vessel then transports these land-delivered salmon to their next destination: several net pens anchored in a loch. After living there for a year and a half, they are slaughtered and processed. Half of these end up on British supermarket shelves, while the rest are exported (farmed salmon is now one of the UK’s primary food exports). One of the pens I visited was located in Loch Leven, near Fort William. There, Mowi produces 1,600 tonnes of salmon annually—a mere fraction of Mowi’s global output of 500,000 tonnes. From the shore, these pens look like a few small islands in the centre of the loch. It was only when I approached them by boat that I saw the metal poles anchoring the pens in the water and the netting above to prevent birds from preying on the salmon. Every few minutes, a scattering sound emanates from the wooden deck beside the pen, sounding like pebbles being kicked on a beach. This is an automatic spreader, dispersing protein pellets into the water. Hidden 22 feet below the surface are 16 pens, where 500,000 fish are feeding. Following current trends, wild fish caught from the ocean will become increasingly scarce, while aquaculture will continue to expand. A practice originating in China has now become globally popular: in paddy systems, fish control pests for the rice crops, while their waste fertilises the plants. In the 1970s, the aquaculture industry underwent a fundamental change. Two Norwegian brothers, Sivert Grutvedt and Ove Grutvedt, noticing the decline of wild salmon, conducted an experiment in closed-circuit salmon farming. Near their own farm on the island of Hitra, they placed wild Atlantic salmon into a floating net pen in a fjord. The experiment was a resounding success; the brothers sold the fish and made a profit. Other Norwegian fishermen soon followed suit. However, they began to realise that productivity was limited by the salmon themselves. Wild salmon grew too slowly and were inefficient at converting feed into fat and muscle. Fish farmers needed the aquatic version of the “industrial broiler chicken” or the “super pig”. This is where a group of Norwegian animal breeders stepped in.

To solve the problem, they looked to 200 years of experience in animal husbandry. The principles established by Robert Bakewell in the 18th century still held true. In the 1940s, American scientist Jay Lush, who had transformed the US meat processing industry, further developed Bakewell’s theories. Norwegian breeders adopted the ideas of Bakewell and Lush, altering the genetics of wild salmon within a few years. By selecting salmon with different desirable traits from three different rivers, they bred a variety that grew faster and ate less than wild salmon. The growth rate of the first generation was 15% faster than previous strains; ten years later, that figure had doubled. The fish being raised were undoubtedly salmon, but genetically speaking, they were a entirely new breed. Some scientists argue that the difference between farmed and wild salmon (Salmo salar) is so vast that the new breed should be named “domestic salmon” (Salmo domesticus).

For the Norwegian breeders and the world at large, this was a major breakthrough. Just as the wheat and rice of the “Green Revolution” fed empty bellies, and livestock experts created a cheaper, more abundant supply of meat, farmed fish allowed more people to eat this species. It was believed that this new breed of fish could provide a new source of protein while helping to solve the problem of overfishing. In reality, however, the pros and cons were far more complex than imagined.

I visited this Mowi farm at Loch Leven in February 2020. Two weeks prior, a pen belonging to the company in the open waters off Colonsay had been torn open. The netting could not withstand the battering of Storm Brendan, and 74,000 farmed salmon escaped into the ocean. Placing pens in more remote areas with stronger currents solved one problem encountered in inland waters: within the salmon industry, the waste generated in the pens—feed, faeces, and chemicals—impacts the marine life and the ecology of the bay beneath the pens. Conversely, the bay’s ecology can destroy the fish in the pens; thick algal blooms can threaten the salmon’s lives, damaging their gills and depleting the oxygen in the water. In such cases, thousands of salmon can perish.

The salmon industry also faces another equally intractable problem: sea lice. In the wild, these parasitic crustaceans, measuring half a centimetre in length, co-evolved with salmon. When salmon live in the sea, they may carry a few sea lice, but the parasites cannot survive in freshwater and thus detach from the fish as they migrate upstream. However, pens packed with tens of thousands of fish create an ideal opportunity for sea lice. Once they appear in a pen, they breed rapidly. Sea lice move across the salmon’s skin, seeking the softest tissue near the face and gills, which they then begin to devour. Once excessively grazed, the salmon die. Meanwhile, these “farmed” sea lice spread more widely, endangering wild salmon populations. Furthermore, escaped farmed salmon pose a threat to the long-term wellbeing of wild Atlantic salmon.

In a natural environment, the genetic difference between two salmon from different rivers can exceed the genetic difference between two humans. Through countless generations of evolution, each type of salmon has adapted to its home environment: the length and turbulence of the river, the amount of available food, the water temperature, and the various tastes and smells in the water. The salmon in every river have adapted to their local environment, possessing unique strengths and weaknesses and developing their own specific life cycles. All of this is made possible by the wild salmon’s homing instinct—the ability to return to the waters of their birth to spawn.

Farmed salmon are different. Their breeding is based on a series of strictly selected genes with only two goals: to eat in large quantities and to grow rapidly. They lack the genetic toolbox required for life in the wild and are unable to complete the great journey from river to ocean and back again. After hundreds of thousands of farmed salmon escape from pens, they may interbreed with wild salmon. Farmed females may survive and spawn, and these eggs may be fertilised in the river. Experts fear that such genetic introgression—the mixing of wild and farmed salmon genes—could gradually alter wild salmon, increasing their risk of disease and predation.

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In July this year, Foodthink, in collaboration with “Beiye Books” (the publisher of *Eating to Extinction*), hosted a series of three book clubs. We invited readers to explore the book alongside ecological small-scale farmers from Sichuan featured in the text, activists dedicated to protecting food diversity, scholars, and NGO professionals, sharing stories and case studies on safeguarding food diversity from both China and abroad. We invite you to read the transcripts and interviews here: “Are we really eating a more varied diet than in the past? Foraging for wild greens in the Netherlands”

Discovering the world through the footsteps of chickens

Fruits of memory: From diversity to uniformity, it’s more than just the flavour that’s disappearing

Cultivating endangered glutinous rice in the Sichuan hills

*Eating to Extinction*

Original Title: Eating to Extinction:

The World’s Rarest Foods and Why We Need To Save Them

Author: Dan Saladino (UK)

Curated by: Beiye Books

Publisher: Wenhui Publishing House

Translator: Gao Yubing

Published: November 2023

Awards Recommended by *The New York Times*; *The Sunday Times* Book of the Year; the Wainwright Prize (the UK’s premier award for nature and travel writing); the James Beard Award (the “Oscars of the food world”); as well as the Guild of Food Writers’ Book Award, the Fortnum & Mason Book Award, and the Gregson Prize.

About the Author

Dan Saladino is a BBC journalist and broadcaster who produces in-depth stories for *The Food Programme*. Specialising in food and agriculture reporting, he has travelled to over 30 countries and regions over the past decade, documenting the stories of more than 40 endangered foods. He was previously named one of London’s most influential people of the year.

About the Translator

Gao Yubing holds a BA in Economics from the University of Cambridge and an MA from the Journalism and Media Studies Centre at the University of Hong Kong. Having previously worked at financial institutions such as JPMorgan Chase, their translations include *The Birth of the Magic Pill*, *Currents of Whisky and Ink*, and *52 Blue*.