The JAWS Paradox: Can you be a JAWS fan and a shark lover?
Is it possible to have an unreserved love for Spielberg’s classic and still claim to be passionate about shark conservation?
I’ll start by saying that I consider Steven Spielberg’s Jaws to be an as-yet-unsurpassed masterpiece; a monumental feat of filmmaking; a movie that gives you everything, and then a bit more for good measure. Its Spielberg-less and increasingly baffling sequels might have plumbed the depths of incredulity, but the 1975 original remains my ‘desert island movie’.
I should also say that I’m wildly passionate about sharks and shark conservation – with a particular fondness for great whites – and have been for as long as I can remember. In fact, I’m not sure what came first in this chicken-and-egg scenario: did a pre-existing love of sharks draw me to Spielberg’s movie, or did I develop an interest in these enigmatic predators following my first viewing of Jaws?
Either way, my affection for a movie – and a book, although I consider this a rare case where the source material is far inferior – that unquestionably villainizes my favorite creature might seem like something of a paradox: how can someone claim to care about the fate of sharks in the real world while repeat-viewing this brilliant yet biologically-dubious work of fiction with such unashamed glee?
Sharks and the “Jaws Effect”
Our understanding of these oft-misunderstood animals has evolved immeasurably in the almost 50 years since the film’s release, but even then, the movie – and the book it was based upon – played fast and loose with the science; for one thing, the titular tormentor was far bigger than any white shark ever spotted in the wild. “That’s a 20-footer,” claims Hooper from the deck of the Orca, only to be corrected by Quint: “25. Three tons of him.” In actuality, a male great white is unlikely to grow to more than 13 feet.
But the most significant deviation from reality, of course, is in the portrayal of the shark’s ‘rogue’- like and relentless pursuit of human prey. Even the book’s author – the late Peter Benchley – somewhat disavowed his own creation, admitting years later, “I know now that the mythic monster I created was largely a fiction.” Had he been given the chance to rewrite the novel, Benchley insisted the shark could no longer be the villain. “It would have to be written as the victim,” he said, “For [in reality] sharks are much more the oppressed than the oppressors.”
Spielberg, too – despite the film cementing him as one of Hollywood’s most prodigious talents – has since expressed remorse, remarking that he “truly and to this day” regrets the film’s impact on real-world sharks – Jaws was largely blamed for the spike in recreational shark fishing which lasted throughout the 1980s and beyond. In an interview in 2022, the director joked that he feared “sharks are somehow mad at me for the feeding frenzy of crazy sports fishermen that happened after 1975”.
And while Jaws didn’t invent a fear of sharks, until the movie swum into cinemas and chomped box office records to bits they’d been regarded largely with intrigue and awe. Commenting on the impact the movie had on the public perception of sharks, the term “The Jaws Effect” was coined by University of Sydney professor Dr Christopher Neff. “The fear of sharks does predate Jaws,” said Neff, “But the movie capitalized on this fear; catapulting sharks into a demonic role.”
Of course, while a real-life encounter with a white shark in its natural surroundings would unquestionably be a chilling – and potentially very dangerous – experience, the chances of you being chewed up and mangled like the skinny-dipping Chrissie or swallowed whole like Quint are pretty slim: worldwide fatalities as a result of shark attacks rarely reach double figures annually, while upwards of 100 million sharks are thought to be killed by human activity each year.
Jaws and the Guilt Complex
When I consider that conceivably thousands – or more likely, millions – of sharks may have died needlessly at least somewhat due to Jaws’ widely counterfactual portrayal of its toothy antagonist, I’m somewhat conflicted. It would almost be more straightforward if the movie wasn’t so damn good – I just can’t help but love it, to feel rewarded by every repeat viewing. But I also wonder, would I even care so much about sharks if it weren’t for Jaws?
I think back to the spring of 2019, which I spent volunteering on a white shark cage diving and research boat in South Africa. There, one of the marine biologists somewhat allayed my Jaws-shaped dilemma: many shark conservation enthusiasts like himself, he explained, developed a passion for sharks because of Jaws – the movie ignited a fascination that would inspire them to dedicate their professional lives to studying sharks, protecting them, and educating others about their plight.
Maybe, then, this is the answer – and the reason I shouldn’t feel guilty that I’ve rewatched the movie countless times, that I have a transcript of Quint’s USS Indianapolis speech framed in my bathroom, or that I have a perverse, stubborn affection for Jaws 2 and – at a stretch – movies 3 and 4 in the franchise. While I can’t recall the age I would’ve been when I first saw Jaws (I was almost certainly too young), it’s surely undeniable that the movie kindled my passion for sharks, fed my desire to learn more about them, and motivated me to embark on the aforementioned conservation expedition (I’m also a proud member of the Shark Trust).
For now, then, I can rest in the knowledge that while the very real impact of Jaws on shark populations presents something of a quandary that calls into question my movie tastes, I shouldn’t necessarily feel guilty for treasuring it. Every time I hear John Williams’ iconic, demonic two-note score and feel the slightest twinge of guilt, this is what I’ll remind myself:
Jaws is a work of fiction
While it was loosely inspired by real-life events (the Jersey Shore shark attacks of 1916), it’s important to remember the movie is not a wildlife documentary but pure fiction. Blue-collar fishermen in the late 1970s might not have been able to separate this from fact, but we shouldn’t forget that Jaws exists to entertain us – and entertain us it does.
Jaws inspired a passion for sharks in many people
For myself and no doubt countless others, a shared fascination with sharks was likely influenced by a first viewing of Jaws. Even those who work in shark research and conservation may have developed their interest in sharks through Spielberg’s movie.
Jaws raised public awareness about sharks
Okay, so mostly it added sharks as maneaters to the public consciousness, but with more public interest in sharks provoked by the movie’s enormous success, there was a greater appetite for learning about them, with increased funding for scientific research and conservation projects.
Jaws isn’t alone
While it’s undoubtedly the grandaddy of shark movies, Jaws is in some equally shark-smearing (yet decidedly lower-quality) company. From 1999’s Deep Blue Sea to 2018’s The Meg (not to mention the nonsensical, six-film Sharknado franchise) movies have never painted sharks in a particularly sympathetic light.
Jaws is a masterpiece
While we probably shouldn’t excuse the movie for the damaging aftereffect it left in its wake, that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate it for the classic piece of cinema it is. Even the esteemed director and self-confessed movie nerd Quentin Tarantino declared it “the best movie ever made”. Enough said.
So, can you be an über-fan of Spielberg’s 1975 classic and an advocate for shark conservation? Well, you can’t tell me that I can’t be both.
Words by Matt Willis
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