Every so often, Congress discovers a new corner of the natural world to legislate. This week’s feature: a Senate committee is gearing up to vote on a bill designed, in spirit if not in direct language, to stop sharks from eating fish. If that sounds like a bureaucratic attempt to outmuscle natural selection, rest assured, you’ve read it correctly. According to Earthjustice, the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation is considering the SHARKED Act, a bill meant to address so-called “depredation”—sharks intercepting fish on anglers’ lines. Sharks are apparently “stealing” catches with little remorse or sense of legislative etiquette.

The SHARKED Act: A Legal Summit with Sharks

The SHARKED Act (S. 2314), as outlined by Earthjustice, would establish a federal task force charged with studying shark behavior and offering recommendations to reduce these underwater ambushes. This intervention may stop short of instructing sharks to file formal dinner requests, but the intent is clear: Congress is wading into one of the oldest relationships in natural history.

There’s a detail worth chewing on—a phrase Earthjustice uses with some concern: the bill doesn’t rule out measures like shark culls or population cuts, leaving room for recommendations that could target sharks themselves. It’s an odd position, considering these animals have been eating fish in the sea far longer than humans have been dangling hooks in it. And as Earthjustice points out, the House already signed off on this approach in January, with the Senate committee widely expected to follow suit. Is a congressional study on seagull fry-theft next?

Whose Ocean, Anyway? Culture and Conservation Collide

The task force outlined in the legislation would notably lack representation from Indigenous, tribal, and native communities—a blind spot that draws particular criticism. As described in the Earthjustice piece, Native Hawaiians, for example, have historically regarded sharks (manō) as sacred guardian ancestors, known as ‘aumakua. Mike Nakachi, a Native Hawaiian diver and educator, is quoted saying, “They might not speak to us, but they teach us a lot about respect and how we can both thrive in nature. These lessons are passed down through generations. This is why we need indigenous voices leading shark conservation.” Not including those perspectives leaves the proposed task force with a conspicuous culture gap.

Meanwhile, scientists and conservationists highlight, via Earthjustice’s reporting, that sharks aren’t just incidental extras in the ocean—they’re a keystone species, shaping entire marine ecosystems. The familiar image of the “greedy” shark swiping a hooked snapper misses the larger, and much more complex, ecological role at play.

Sharks, Fishers, and the Vanishing Baseline

Earthjustice’s analysis reaches beyond legislative drama to the reality of ocean health. Data referenced by the organization indicates that global shark populations have declined a staggering 71% since 1970, largely due to overfishing. Jasmin Graham, president and CEO of Minorities in Shark Sciences, frames it in terms of “shifting baselines”—the idea that while some shark populations are now slowly recovering, they remain far below their historical abundance. If there seem to be more sharks around than in the recent past, it may only be because things were so dire to begin with.

Kristin Butler, legislative representative for Earthjustice, underscores the irony: the true goal of fisheries and wildlife policy is species recovery, which naturally means—brace yourself—more sharks in the water. Yet public attention often latches onto the inconvenience of a shark biting a hooked fish, as if this ancient interaction is suddenly scandalous.

Further described in Earthjustice’s reporting, Graham emphasizes that increasing shark-fisher interactions reflect narrowed, stressed resources for both parties. As more effective gear and declining fish stocks push sharks and people into closer quarters, frustration mounts on the surface—an understandable but ultimately shortsighted view, since these symptoms arise from overexploitation and not, say, especially bold sharks.

Trying to Fine-Tune the Food Chain

The SHARKED Act, when viewed in the context outlined by Earthjustice, feels like another classic exercise in legislating symptoms instead of causes. Shark “depredation” isn’t a new invention, but a visible sign of disturbance in the broader ecosystem. Population declines, habitat loss due to pollution, and changes brought about by climate instability all play their part. When a centuries-old food web shows strain, Congress’s answer, apparently, is a task force—with an option for “reducing” the very species conservation laws were meant to revive.

Is it really possible to manage away the natural instincts of one of Earth’s most thoroughly adapted predators? As Earthjustice details, even the best-intentioned policies risk undoing hard-won conservation progress if they focus on shark numbers without addressing root causes like overfishing and environmental degradation.

At the strange intersection of politics and nature, the effort to legislate shark appetites seems, at best, an awkward attempt to referee the original arms race. The only thing more enduring than legislative intent is, perhaps, a shark’s hunger—neither is likely to relent at the request of a Senate subcommittee.