Remove the predators, and the whole ecosystem begins to crash

“Remove the predators, and the whole ecosystem begins to crash like a house of cards. As the sharks disappear, the predator-prey balance dramatically shifts, and the health of our oceans declines.” — Brian Skerry

Hear, O children of the living waters, the warning of Brian Skerry, a chronicler of the deep and guardian of the sea’s memory. His words flow not as mere observation, but as prophecy — a cry from the heart of the ocean itself. In this saying, he reveals a truth older than humankind: that life is held in balance, delicate and sacred, and when that balance is broken, all creation begins to tremble. Predators, he tells us, are not destroyers, but keepers of order. They are the unseen architects of the wild, shaping life through restraint, guiding growth through their very presence. When they fall — when the sharks vanish from the seas — the entire ecosystem begins to unravel, its harmony lost, its pulse fading into silence.

The origin of Skerry’s words lies in his long devotion as a marine photographer and storyteller, whose lens has gazed upon the hidden grandeur of the deep blue world. For decades, he has witnessed the decline of creatures once abundant — the great sharks, rays, and whales that ruled the oceans like ancient kings. These beings, long misunderstood as symbols of terror, are in truth the lifeblood of the seas. The shark, with its silent grace, is not a monster but a regulator of balance, ensuring that prey do not overwhelm the fragile networks of coral, plankton, and fish that sustain the Earth. Yet, mankind, in its ignorance and greed, has waged war against these guardians — slaughtering them for fins, for fear, for profit — and in doing so, has struck at the very heart of the ocean’s design.

To understand this truth, consider the tale of the sea otter and the kelp forests of the Pacific. When hunters once drove the otters nearly to extinction, their prey — the sea urchins — multiplied without limit, devouring the kelp that formed the foundation of marine life along the coast. Without the kelp, fish disappeared, seabirds starved, and the once-thriving shores grew barren. Only when the otters returned did balance return with them, and the waters blossomed again with color and song. So it is with the sharks. When they vanish, the prey species, freed from natural restraint, consume the sea’s bounty in reckless abundance. The web collapses. What was once teeming with life becomes hollow, and the ocean declines not from storm or fire, but from absence — the silence left by the fallen predators.

Skerry’s insight, though spoken of the sea, holds wisdom for all realms of life. For the law of balance governs every world — the ocean, the forest, the city, and even the human soul. When we remove the forces that challenge and refine us, we destroy the structure that sustains us. Predators, in every form, give shape to creation. Without them, there is no strength, no renewal, no order. The forest without wolves is overrun with deer; the mind without struggle grows complacent; the society without justice devours itself. Nature’s wisdom is eternal: even the harshest forces serve a sacred purpose.

Yet mankind has forgotten this law. We look upon predators with fear, and upon dominance with arrogance. We take without understanding, believing ourselves the masters of all things. But in our conquest, we forget that we, too, are threads in the great tapestry. Tear one thread — the shark, the tiger, the eagle, the forest — and the pattern weakens. Tear many, and the whole fabric falls apart. The “house of cards”, as Skerry calls it, is not a metaphor — it is the truth of creation itself. For every life taken without care, the balance tilts. And when balance dies, so too does beauty.

Let this teaching, then, be carved upon the hearts of all who live: the health of the oceans is the health of the Earth, and the health of the Earth is the health of humankind. Protect the predators, not as foes but as allies in the eternal dance of life. Refuse the spoils of destruction — the shark fin, the ivory, the trophy. Support those who restore the wild, who defend the sea. Teach your children not to fear the power of nature, but to honor it, for power and peace are not enemies, but partners in the balance of the world.

And finally, remember this: the ocean does not need our pity — it needs our respect. When we protect its balance, we protect our own. When we guard the sharks, the coral breathes; when we save the predators, life itself endures. Thus, let every soul who walks the Earth remember the ancient covenant: that we are not separate from nature, but of it. Break the chain, and we perish; preserve it, and we rise with all creation. For as Skerry teaches, the fall of one species is not the end of its kind alone — it is the beginning of our own undoing, unless we act with wisdom, humility, and love for the living world.