When I first started photographing intertidal species, my only wish was for the ocean of my hometown to stay alive and well

Foreword: As I write this, I am weighed down by a deep-seated bitterness and anger. I love my blue home, and it breaks my heart to see it suffer. What we are witnessing is not just a viral craze, but the silent death of a coastline.

For Chinese society in the early 21st century, before the explosion of short-video platforms, foraging on tidal flats was a distant way of life for most inland residents. Yet, as a nation with thousands of years of maritime history, China’s coastline has sustained tens of millions of people. Take my hometown, Shenzhen, for example. It was formerly known as Xin’an County—a vast ancient jurisdiction that spanned what is now Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Huizhou, and Dongguan, serving as the historical predecessor to both Hong Kong and Shenzhen. Historical records from the 10th to the 14th centuries document sea people diving deep into these waters to harvest pearls. Today’s Tai Po Bay in Hong Kong was once called “Meizhu Chi” (媚珠池:the Pool of Charming Pearls), a name that spoke of the brilliant luster of the pearls found there. Seven centuries ago, a highly developed oyster farming industry had already taken root here. Before the establishment of the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone and the subsequent severe pollution of its waters, the area was renowned for its highly acclaimed “Shajing oysters.” This product’s fame spread so far that, prior to the Reform and Opening-up, Shenzhen (formerly Bao’an County) was wryly dubbed by outsiders as having “three treasures: flies, mosquitoes, and Shajing oysters.” This is a testament to the deep-rooted history of coastal foraging among the local people.

Given China’s vast coastal resources and its long-standing history of tidal foraging, why do I still write this article with such sorrow and indignation? Because I am not opposed to foraging itself; rather, I object to the endless hype and viral frenzy surrounding it on short-video platforms in recent years.

Around 2016, the rise of short-video platforms allowed people from all corners of the country to glimpse each other’s diverse ways of life. Inevitably, the daily routines of coastal communities caught the public’s eye. In these videos, people wield shovels and rakes to sift through the mudflats, harvesting everything from razor clams and jellyfish to various crabs, snails, and shrimp. With fresh catches being made every day, these videos naturally became a novel and highly engaging form of daily vlog.

Initially, this trend did not spiral into the current state of mania. However, after being confined at home for over two years during the pandemic, people began to travel with a vengeance. As an accessible, outdoor-oriented activity, tidal foraging inevitably became the ultimate choice for those flocking to the coast.

Fueled by the hype and promotion of short videos, the coastline is being swamped by tourists. People are intoxicated by the viral fantasy of returning with a “bucketful of treasures,” yet they lack even the most basic knowledge of tidal foraging and completely disregard the traditional wisdom of harvesting sustainably.

All one can see are masses of people swarming the mudflats, digging hole after hole with shovels just to unearth clams no bigger than a thumb. Children eagerly turn over every stone, greedily snatching swimming crabs no larger than a fingernail. Corals are trampled to pieces, horseshoe crabs are slashed by spades, and migratory birds are driven away by the crowds, losing their vital food sources in the process…

Yet, not a single person realizes that they are committing a silent slaughter.

I had heard rumors about all of this long before I formally began documenting intertidal species on a large scale this past May. Yet, I never imagined the situation would deteriorate to such an extent. Whenever I search for intertidal species along the coastline, the vast majority of results pushed by search engines are videos of “bucketful” foraging hauls. Even more egregious are the frequent occurrences of people illegally sneaking into national nature reserves to forage, stealing sea urchins and oysters from fishermen’s farms, and the rise of “customer-catering foraging.” In this model, tourism organizations lease stretches of coastline and stock the waters with seafood for tourists to harvest. If the introduced species are not native, this practice carries a severe risk of triggering biological invasions.

In terms of my actual fieldwork, the tidal foraging craze has also frequently disrupted my photography. My primary subjects are crabs—a highly cautious and elusive group, with most species being nocturnal. I often conduct night observations along the coast. Unfortunately, these shores are also frequented by trend-chasing tourists. Whenever I recall these encounters, it feels as though their concept of personal space is practically non-existent. The moment I spot a crab and raise my camera, they immediately swarm over, asking with desperate urgency, “Did you find a crab? Can I catch it?” What a preposterous and surreal experience!!! We are long past the days of struggling to put food on the table; the arduous era of relying on the sea for basic survival is over. Yet, these people recklessly dig, trample, and litter across the beaches. They snatch away every living creature, regardless of age or size, paying no mind to whether the species is endangered, whether it holds any culinary value, or whether it poses a danger to them. Even inedible species like fiddler crabs, sand crabs, and sesarmid crabs fall victim to this cycle: caught, kept, left to die, and then caught again… an endless, senseless loop.This “urge to grab” mentality is deeply ingrained in their collective consciousness. Many recorders like myself have also voiced our grievances: when we advocate for restraint in the comment sections of foraging videos, we are often met with verbal abuse and personal attacks. Worse still, we are frequently dismissed as “extreme environmentalists” attempting to brainwash the public.

After stripping China’s coastal waters bare, they haven’t forgotten to overharvest marine resources beyond our borders. Just this year, I’ve heard about bans targeting Asian foragers in Auckland, New Zealand. While this may not be solely the result of Chinese individuals, I’ve noticed a significant number of users traveling to these places to forage and post boastful videos. Their sheer numbers are enough to form a highly stereotyped demographic; thus, derogatory labels like “Peking Duck” and “Bucket People” have emerged to describe them. As a Chinese citizen, I am deeply ashamed of the actions of my fellow nationals abroad. In addition, I have also seen videos of Chinese tourists foraging in places like the United States and Europe. However, due to strict legal restrictions on such activities in those regions, they tend to be much more restrained… Speaking of laws, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of regret. What I lament is that China has far too few, if any, regulations regarding this. If fisheries authorities cannot even fully curb illegal electrofishing, how can they possibly regulate the chaotic recreational activities of ordinary citizens? This issue is not limited to authorities and short-video platforms; local tourism boards are also actively promoting and encouraging tidal foraging. This influx of uninformed tourists has led to even more profound and long-lasting damage to the coastline. And the destruction continues to this day.

I don’t know what the future holds for China’s coastline, but my only hope is that the fever of chaotic tidal foraging will finally cool down. I wish the same for other trending “outdoor harvesting” crazes, including but not limited to the over-foraging of wild mushrooms, bamboo shoots, wild fruits, edible greens, and orchids.

In just the past six months, videos of these activities have constantly flooded my social media feeds. My deepest, most sincere wish is simply for these creatures and plants to be left in peace… Can it really be that hard to just let them live?

As a Chinese citizen, I do not discriminate against my fellow countrymen, nor do I condemn all Chinese tourists with a broad brush. I love this land deeply. My only wish is that its people will abandon their insatiable and unscrupulous exploitation, learn to love this land in the same way, and live in harmonious coexistence with all the species that share it.

Condemned because you care. Hope the trendy tide will turn to something that is less damaging to the environment.

It’s safe to say that internet users are becoming increasingly emotional and polarized, especially amid an economic downturn.

seems easy to me!
sorry for your frustration, it’s really tragic the way most of our species treats the others.

I moved to the US as a young child. When I went to China last year, the attitudes of people both towards each other and towards animals was sometimes shocking to me. For instance, my cousin volunteered to spend 6 hours driving me to Yancheng because I wanted to see wild milu. He also found out there was a red-crowned crane sanctuary nearby and also took me there. He brought food for us to eat. That is clearly being quite generous and kind with his time and money. But at the milu park, there were butterflies on the flowers I was trying to photograph, and he caught one in his hands so I could photograph it, thus crushing it. I didn’t really know what to say other than ‘that’s not necessary’.

This is an issue of low levels of cultural and civic education among the public. Should we blame the exam-oriented education system? While it accounts for part of the problem, the root cause lies more in individuals’ own mindsets.

Before the Reform and Opening-up, 80% of China’s population lived in rural areas. I say this without any discrimination or contempt; in fact, the parents or grandparents of the vast majority of Chinese people today, myself included, came from that 80%. Objectively speaking, due to limited infrastructure, these rural populations did not receive proper civic education or legal guidance. For example, in rural areas, it was common to relieve oneself in public, spit, or litter. Because of the low population density, these behaviors typically did not negatively impact others.

However, over the past four decades, China has experienced extremely rapid urbanization. Urban living requires adherence to rules and the rule of law. This “do whatever I want” lifestyle is incompatible with an urbanized society; it is perceived as uncivilized and lacking in basic manners.

The same logic applies to the rampant over-foraging and poaching in the wild. The habit of indiscriminate foraging has long been ingrained in rural life. However, because urbanization happened so rapidly, the vast majority of the population has not yet evolved the high civic awareness and moral character required to adapt to it, leading to the situation we see today. Furthermore, the hype on short-video platforms has actually exacerbated this problem, playing a severe and ignorant role in misleading the public.

Chalk up another negative for the rise of the internet.

The “Bucket People” mindset, meaning, grab and keep everything, has roots stretching back many thousands of years. East Asia used to have megafauna, but it has also been one of the most densely populated places on Earth for millennia.

As the large game was wiped out, humans were forced to move down the food chain, eventually harvesting tiny clams and crabs for protein. It’s a lot of effort for minimal protein, but it was driven by the need to capture every calorie. In this mindset, a tiny crab isn’t a beautiful record for iNat; it’s a wasted asset that someone else will take if you don’t.

Wealthy Western nations only embraced environmentalism after they wiped out many of their own ecotypes and species. China is speedrunning the Industrial Revolution. People now have the wealth and leisure to travel, but they temporarily retain the survivalist mindset that you mentioned:

While the local ecological destruction is tragic, China today is also leading the world in giant environmental efforts: reversing desertification, installing renewable energy, advancing mariculture, etc. In many of these areas, they’re not just leading; they’re doing more than the rest of the world combined.

As China’s wealth continues to grow, attitudes will shift.

Ultimately, social media is a neutral tool. The same short-form videos that promote the over-harvesting of marine resources, will eventually be used to promote environmentalism.

They will! The transition is just painful right now. Keep fighting for the “green side” and documenting everything!

To put it simply, developed nations act as a ‘preview server’ for developing countries, offering a glimpse into our future trajectory to a certain extent. However, due to differing national conditions, the depth and nuances of social transformation will inevitably vary.

For populous nations like China or India, shifting people’s mindsets requires the evolution of several generations. This process will likely consume the lifetimes of multiple generations—my own included. While the overarching trend is ultimately heading in a positive direction, I may not live to see it in my lifetime.

Absolutely! You reminded me of this recent post:

In order to promote positive psychology and the hope of a brighter future, here are a couple of quotes from the forum:

For this behavior to change, people first have to learn it’s wrong. Can you start making your own videos? Make observing the creature just living it’s life the enjoyable activity. “What does it do?” rather than “What can we do with it?”.

Actually, most of the bloggers who initially sparked the beachcombing craze have either stopped posting or seen their popularity plummet, simply because the financial returns are too low. As a result, this type of beachcombing vlog has become much harder to find compared to previous years. However, the impact of this trend is indeed long-lasting. For example, when digging for razor clams, salt is typically used to coax them out. While harvesting a small amount might still leave room for natural recovery, the real problem arises when crowds gather on the coast to pour salt. This not only wipes out razor clams of all ages, but the excessive salt also alters the salinity of the coastal waters and has even led to localized soil salinization. Currently, on Chinese social media, the most fatal blow to local ecosystems comes from beachcombing guides that expose specific coastal locations and blindly direct uninformed people there.

At the very least, these people are seeking out nature; but as you’ve commented, they have not been taught how to interact with it properly and respectfully. I think there’s a small seed of hope in the fact they want to interact with nature at all.

Can you explain how both these statements can be true? Is it tradition to forage responsibly, or to forage as much as one can?

There may be a future opportunity to help people recognize. In the USA, the publication of the 1962 book Silent Spring was a waking-up call for tens of thousands, and marked a tidal shift in the civilian attitude towards conservation.

It may be difficult, but from a pragmatic point of view, these comments sections are the worst place you can hope to make a difference. You are talking to a self-selected audience who come to the conversation deeply opposed to you. You probably should avoid watching these videos altogether, and refocus your energy on different strategies.

On this forum, where I am a moderator, I don’t have the luxury of blocking or ignoring things I find unpleasant – it’s my task to confront those things for the sake of the community. But everywhere else I’m on social media? I block people, I block posts, I mute and ignore to my heart’s content. While I sometimes reach out to see if I can correct/help/explain to someone who is in error, most of the time… I say nothing, move on, and maybe block them too. It’s brought a lot of peace to what’s supposed to be a relaxing activity: socializing!

Don’t take this burden upon your shoulders alone - big problems can be made manageable by many hands. iNaturalist has let me meet new friends and colleagues all over the world, and it can do the same for you.

Actually, the two are not entirely contradictory. Given such a massive population, people’s conduct and awareness naturally vary. Indiscriminate over-harvesting is a common phenomenon, while sustainable utilization is simply another parallel reality. The former is a bad habit, whereas the latter is what I consider a true, excellent ‘tradition’—one of harvesting with moderation.

I’m certainly not condemning all foraging activities. Today, thousands of fishers and coastal communities in China still rely on it for their livelihood. Even in Shenzhen, a first-tier metropolis, traditional coastal farmers still maintain the practice of digging for clams. During my fieldwork, I frequently encounter them. People who live by the sea—or perhaps, those with ancestral wisdom—know full well that the ocean’s bounty is finite. Over-exploitation will collapse the ecosystem, and ultimately, people won’t be able to survive.

What my article advocates is a return to this traditional ethos of sustainable use and respect for nature. Of course, we don’t have to strictly adhere to the past. I also encourage modern, progressive approaches to foraging, such as photography, wildlife observation, and science communication. We call this ‘Leave No Trace foraging’: leave nothing behind but your footprints, and take nothing but memories.

Coastal foraging should reject indiscriminate destruction and over-exploitation, but a one-size-fits-all approach is unacceptable. Nor should we completely ban the legitimate livelihood activities of coastal communities, including their traditional foraging practices.

A most extreme historical example occurred in my hometown of Shenzhen, as well as in Hong Kong and Macao, and along the eastern coast of China stretching from Guangdong in the south to Shandong in the north. This was the ‘Great Clearance’ (1661–1680). In an effort to prevent coastal residents from colluding with the former Ming loyalists based in Taiwan and European colonizers, the Kangxi Emperor ordered coastal inhabitants to retreat 15 to 25 kilometers inland. Once the boundary was crossed or the sea was ventured out to, those who committed severe offenses would face execution by decapitation and the collective punishment of collective implication (lian-zuo).

Although the primary motive of this policy was not to ban foraging, it inadvertently achieved the exact same effect. The Great Clearance was not designed to prohibit foraging. Its primary purpose was military and political control. However, by effectively severing coastal communities from the sea for decades, it demonstrates how extreme restrictions on access to marine resources can devastate local livelihoods and social stability. The Chinese coastline fell eerily silent for over two decades. This not only completely devastated the production and livelihoods of coastal communities but also led to the starvation of tens of thousands of people, many of whom were ultimately driven to join rebel factions. Therefore, completely banning the legitimate livelihood activities of coastal communities is simply not a viable option.

Yes – here too. Traditional African medicine uses plants, bulbs and tree bark for example. In a small rural community where the healer is trained in a long apprenticeship – sustainable harvesting works, because it must. The whole community understands that.

Come to the city, add a top layer of people only in it for the money – and sustainable harvesting slides out of sight. Ringbark the tree and it is dead. Harvest all the accessible bulbs. Gone.

But we are in the third stage. Nature conservation working WITH traditional healers. Planting deliberate gardens for harvesting. And some students scattered across iNat who are studying nature conservation with traditional healing. Each iNatter I find makes my heart sing, I should make a list of their names !

And obs on iNat – what is this bulb ? Rescued from the market. Also obs of accessible trees, which have been painted, to deter harvesting the bark.

Random selection of 3 articles - quote from the first link

“If we are in Africa and we are Africans, we need to know who we are … So, when we come to UCT, we come as we are; we don’t leave ourselves at the door or at the gate. We have done that for too long.”

https://www.news.uct.ac.za/article/-2023-09-22-uct-hosts-its-first-african-traditional-and-spiritual-practices-indaba

https://news.uj.ac.za/news/the-dangerous-silence-about-traditional-african-medicine-use-when-at-hospital/

https://www.wits.ac.za/news/latest-news/opinion/2023/2023-08/traditional-medicines-should-be-used-in-healthcare.html

One thing that might help…

If you see a group with an 8 to 15 year old with them, approach the kid. Ask the kid what they’re catching. Take an interest in what’s in the bucket. Marvel at the diversity of species. Ask the kid what the things are? Where did they find them all? How did they catch them?

Then, after listening to the kid’s answers… tell the kid something that you know about one of the species. But not as an educator, as a friend who also shares an interest in the same thing.

This is a universal language that all parents understand. The parents of the kid might have had to struggle to feed themselves. May have had to pull themselves out of poverty along with the kid. Had to rely on utilizing all resources around them while doing this. And after finally having done it, triumphantly took the kid on their first trip to the coast. If you can teach the kid something without also judging the parents, they’ll appreciate you for it. And the kid will return someday to make sure that someone could still fill a bucket.

Well, you’re actually underestimating these kids. I’ve tried exactly what you suggested many times, but honestly, most of them just can’t sit still and listen. They’re entirely focused on catching things, and even if they know they’ll probably end up killing the creatures, they still insist on taking them home.

I’ve tagged along with quite a few outdoor nature education groups, and I’ve noticed that the vast majority of kids in China today are suffering from ‘nature deficit disorder.’ They have very little curiosity for learning about these creatures. They are just completely crushed by the immense pressure of exams and academic advancement. You have to understand, we live in a society dominated by exam-oriented education. Aside from studying for tests and attending extracurricular tutoring classes, they don’t care about anything else—except for video games, that is.

The only cure for kids with nature deficit disorder is to spend more time outdoors. However, teaching them how to properly interact with these species requires extra patience. And ultimately, it also requires the kids themselves to have the patience to be taught.

There is a much older post from a sad Chinese student, who expected to get an iNat certificate – so many hours, so many IDs – and clearly felt their time was wasted here if no certificates are issued. Sad for them, and for us as they fought to explain the issue to us.