Dear visitors,

Welcome toFuture Collective of Our Past Sorrows. This project is part of my ongoing research on ecological grief and fieldwork at the Institute of Hydrobiology in Wuhan. I hope this letter offers a factual counter-narrative to the artwork you’re viewing.

The Yangtze River is home to two species of cetacean—the Baiji dolphin (Lipotes vexillifer) and the Yangtze finless porpoise (Neophocaena asiaeorientalis).

In 1978, the Chinese Academy of Sciences established a research group –– the Institute of Hydrobiology. The institute is an ex-situ conservation and research site, dedicated to the studies of aquatic organisms and water environment protection. In 1980, a Baiji dolphin was captured and sent to the institute. While it was estimated that thousands of Baiji dolphins lived in the river in the 1950s, by the 80s, the number had dropped to 400 or less. The scientists named the captured dolphin Qiqi (淇淇), who lived 22 years in the institute before passing away in 2002. With all efforts of breeding failing, Qiqi was the last of his kind. In 2006, a month-long search expedition surveying over 3400km of the river denounced the existence of the Baiji dolphin as a species.

When I visited the institute last year, the pool in which Qiqi lived was deserted, taken over by a family who washed and cooked around it, turning the area into their backyard and storage unit.

The institute now hosts 6 Yangtze finless porpoises. Contrary to the Baiji dolphin, the breeding of Yangtze finless porpoises was successful. The first artificially bred finless porpoise was born in 2005, followed by the second in 2007. Thanks to the ten-year fishing ban (2020-2023), more than 1,400 finless porpoises now live in the Yangtze River. Even with their rising population, the species is still critically endangered. I was lucky to see a few finless porpoises in the indoor pools during my visit, but I had a strange sense of urgency and loss.

It’s noteworthy that these extinction events are closely connected to economic and societal rifts in China. In 1953, Chairman Mao Zedong proposed building the Three Gorges Project following an inspection of the river. The Chinese economic reform in 1978 further exacerbated ecological deterioration in and along the river. Activities such as overfishing, shipping, and environmental pollution made it impossible for the cetaceans to survive. Against these rapid changes, all personnel at the Institute of Hydrobiology, whether doing ichthyological or cetacean research, were tasked to report on fish resources and environmental protection measures. Reading their research papers and memoirs, it was clear to me that the scientists lamented the passing of species and are often left feeling hopeless. For them, it was obvious that the only reasonable solution was to halt harmful human activities, yet progress and development were above all else, an ‘inevitability’.

In 2023, when I visited the institute, I was told that the whole place faced closure. This is not quite a dystopian tale, however, as a much bigger facility is already under construction. This alone should signify a brighter future for conservation. However, as long as the central problem that threatened species survival in the first place––the tension between development and conservation––remains unsolved, I worry that other efforts to protect the species will be in vain.

Also unresolved is our relationship with nature. Both the Yangtze River and the Yellow River have been reduced to a precarious ‘fishless’ state. Even though the finless porpoise breeding scheme has had its success and the population is growing, there still is an estimation of a 50% extinction rate in the Yangtze River in the next 10 years. People pay attention to dolphins due to their size, charisma, and intelligence. Not nearly enough attention is being paid to the less ‘charismatic’ species.

The ultimate vision of ex-situ nature conservation is to restore and rejuvenate the natural habitat, release the species into the wild, and strengthen the natural population. Scientists at the institute told me that that is one of their biggest challenges. In May 2024, 19 finless porpoises were relocated from an in-situ conservation area to for-profit ocean parks. What constitutes care in a place of captivity? What counts as a ‘good life’ when protection takes form in entrapment?

I often think about a quote from James Baldwin: ‘The world is held together, really it is held together, by the love and the passion of a very few people.’ I often wonder what will happen when the love and passion of a few people dissipate; if they dissipate. I wonder who or what will hold on to the memories engendered by their efforts. This project is one attempt at answering such questions.

Image courtesy of Professor Xianfeng Zhang. This is the last photo of Qiqi before he passed away in 2002.