Where have all the old fish gone?

Of course, “old” is relative, even in fish populations. A Pacific cod, for instance, can live up to 18 years, whereas a rockfish can clear 100-plus. But across the board, fish populations are skewing younger. Pacific hake on the West Coast, Walleye pollock from Alaska, and Atlantic cod from Europe are some of the hardest hit. Regionally, the Southeast and West Coast of the United States showed the clearest youthward trends. Alaska seems to be the most geriatric-friendly region, for what it’s worth.

It’s hard to tell exactly how much fishing has impacted these populations, though researcher Lewis Barnett has studied marine reserves where fishing isn’t allowed and notes that demographics tend to even out in the absence of fishing boats. “The only rule of thumb is that when you stop killing fish, they continue to get older,” he says. Makes sense.

But why should we care if fish are getting younger? Fewer grandparents around to read their fingerlings One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish doesn’t necessarily spell environmental catastrophe. Turns out the reasons for conserving older populations are kind of hard to pin down. And that means it’s never been a regulatory priority.

“The common argument that started in the early 2000s was that old fish were inherently more productive, that they produce offspring that are inherently more fit,” Barnett says. But though scientists have proven old fish do lay more eggs, they haven’t actually been able to demonstrate that those eggs hatch more often or breed sturdier babies.  

Shouldn’t old fish pass down good genes, since they’ve clearly escaped more fish hooks than the young bucks? And they must provide some kind of wisdom to the community. Can’t they lead the youngers to safe egg-laying spots and show the hatchlings how to look out for a lure?

Maybe. But none of this has really been proven. “We don’t know a whole lot about the genetic side and behavior,” Barnett says.

Old fishes’ biggest selling point may be that they behave just a little differently from younger fish. They lay their eggs in different places, swim further into deeper waters, and get pregnant at different times. Which means they diversify the behavior of the population as a whole. Their presence is an assurance that a whole school of fish (literally) doesn’t put all its eggs in one underwater basket. “Especially when the environment is changing, you want to have that variation and diversity,” says Barnett.

Young fish are pretty well protected—recreational fisheries institute minimum size limits, and commercial equipment isn’t designed to catch juveniles—but similar protections haven’t really been introduced to protect bigger, older individuals. To make matters worse, fish aren’t even measured by individual size; rather, a population is measured by its total biomass. According to mainstream measurements, three juvenile cod and one big guy look exactly the same.

But Barnett says he hopes the conversation around fish age will change soon. “That’s our next frontier, really, is trying to shape the discussion on how to make age structure feed back more directly into the fisheries’ management process,” he says.

Maybe soon, fishermen will start throwing granddaddy rockfish back in the water. It’d be nice to know the ocean is full of nice old folks, regardless of whether or not their babies are smarter.