by David Stalling
One of the wild encounters we often see in videos is a person walking through bear country, suddenly realizing there’s a bear nearby, and immediately beginning the time-honored ritual:
“Hey bear. Hey bear. Hey bear. Hey bear…”
The advice is sound. Talk to the bear. Make your presence known. Stay calm. Don’t run. Let the bear know you’re a human being and not some mysterious, bite-sized woodland creature.
Some people say, “But bears don’t understand English.”
Perhaps not.
But I’m not entirely convinced bears need to understand English to understand us.
We communicate with animals all the time without sharing a language. We know when a bear is afraid. We know when it’s angry, curious, relaxed, or feeling threatened. And bears are remarkably good at reading us, too. They can pick up on our body language, our movements, our energy, and, I suspect, whether we are about to make a very poor decision.
Part of talking to a bear is probably about communicating with the bear. The other part is communicating with yourself. When you’re standing there looking at several hundred pounds of fur, teeth, claws, and attitude, saying “Hey bear” gives your brain something to do besides screaming, “WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!”
So I fully support talking to bears.
But I would like to make a modest suggestion: we need to give bears a little more credit when it comes to conversation. Bears are intelligent animals. They observe. They learn. They remember. They have personalities. And I suspect they enjoy a good conversation.
Imagine for a moment that you’re a bear peacefully going about your day in your neighborhood. You’re checking out a tree, looking for berries, maybe taking a leisurely stroll through the woods. Suddenly, some human appears.
“Hey bear.”
Okay. Fine.
“Hey bear.”
All right, I heard you.
“Hey bear.”
Yes. Still a bear.
“Hey bear. Hey bear. Hey bear.”
At some point I think the bear might reasonably turn around and say: “Do you have anything else to talk about?”
And frankly, if someone were walking through my home repeatedly saying “Hey human! Hey human! Hey human!” I might eventually attack them too. Not because I was afraid. Not because I was angry. Just because I was incredibly annoyed.
So maybe instead of simply repeating “Hey bear” fifty times, we should occasionally expand the conversation.
“Hey bear. Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“I see you’re enjoying those berries.”
“I’m going to continue down the trail, and you can continue doing whatever it is you want to do.”
“Nice to see you. Have a great day.”
Maybe bears appreciates the courtesy. Maybe they don’t. But at least we’re making an effort. And if the bear does decide to respond, I think the appropriate thing is to listen carefully.
Because when a bear starts talking, you probably don’t want to interrupt.
One of the greatest experiences a human can ever have is to encounter an animal that—without all the invented, mechanical killing machinery we have invented to kill everything, including mostly each other—could tear you to pieces and eat you.
The one quality that men can never accept and adopt is humility, and it this inability that will drive us to extinction, the sooner, the better.
So if I were to talk to a bear. Can I ask them about their car’s extended warranty?