Electric Eel
In the clear highland waters of the Guiana shield…
In the clear highland waters of the Guiana shield, two metres long, nocturnal, nearly blind, swims Electrophorus electricus, not a true eel, despite its common name, but a knifefish. Its cousin, Electrophorus voltai, dwells on the other side of the Amazon, to the south. In the lowland intercratonic basin of the upper Amazon, lurking in muddier waters, is their western counterpart, Electrophorus varii. Marked by Linnean colonisers as the same animal, these three distinct species diverged approximately seven million years ago: when the Amazon began to flow backwards; when we were still apes. This surprising species diversity was discovered in 2019 by Brazilian scientist David de Santa and his colleagues, who also found that the two highland species of electric eel, previously thought to be solitary creatures, engage in pack hunting: when prey are too small to catch individually, dozens of electric eels can co-ordinate to discharge a widespread shock, stunning all small fish in the area, which can then be easily snapped up.
The newness of this knowledge is emphasised in all reports – yet how do we define “new” knowledge? Before these fish were Electricus, they were porake (Guarani/Tupi: ‘numbing one’) and arimna (Tamanac: ‘depriver of motion’). Indigenous populations have long since developed methods of hunting the predator, historically sending horses into the water to exhaust the electric eels’ shocks, after which the fish become lethargic and retreat. Indigenous experiential knowledge of electric eels probably far surpasses the scant research that makes its way to the scientific journals of the Global North. What is unwritten is not always unknown. Regardless, the importance of bridging this epistemological gap grows more important as our ecological crisis continues to escalate.
European scientists classified the electric eel in 1775, and eagerly began dissecting. They found three electric organs occupying eighty per cent of the fish’s massive body: stacks of electrocytes enable the electric eel to produce the highest voltage electric shock of any animal on earth, as well as smaller shocks for electrolocation and communication. This analysis directly inspired Alessandro Volta’s development of the first battery in 1800 – the earliest reliable source of electricity created by humankind.
In a manner as long and winding as our fish, the impact of this discovery has finally revisited itself upon the electric eel. The battery led to the invention of the electric motor, which in turn enabled the macrocosmic scale of the industrial revolution, which itself cemented the rise of the market-driven capitalist economy for which, in many ways, the Amazon rainforest now burns.
Agricultural expansion has had a devastating effect on the Amazon and its surrounding waters, yet, phenomenally, the electric eel maintains a conservation status of least concern. As obligate air-breathers, surfacing every couple of minutes to supplement the small oxygen supply they take from the water, electric eels can survive in water with extremely depleted oxygen levels. This ecological advantage is now their preserving strength. Of course, the future of these fish still hangs in the balance, as global heating will gradually dry up their habitat and force them into smaller and smaller regions, where they will have to compete fiercely for food. But just for now, in spite of us, they thrive.
Crafted from wire and waste electronic components, this life-size sculpture reflects the tense relationship between the electric eel and humankind. The electric eel is part of our industrial legacy, yet our knowledge of it has, until recently, been restricted to that which is useful. European scientists dissected the bodies of dead fish to unveil their secrets, categorise them, and appropriate their technology; yet deep observation of the living electric eel – its behaviour, its social and familial habits, and its safety – is only just beginning to be undertaken in the name of science. This sculpture, the product of an amateur artist working in a new, slippery medium, affects a child-like haphazardness which gestures towards our yet-skeletal understanding of this strange fish. Its size and sharpness herald danger, but its curious expression welcomes our curiosity and sympathy. It is a fable against naivety: in the path of an electric eel, an inexperienced human is at terrible risk of being stunned and consequently drowned; yet in our ignorance as a global society, we are at equal risk of destroying the habitat of this marvellous fish, and eventually the fish itself, partly thanks to the weapon it gave us.
Artist: Izzy Daltry
Fish Profile:
Electric Eel – Electrophorus (Genus)
Electrophorus electricus – Best known species of Electric Eel
Conservation status
Unlike Eel, the Electric Eel are assessed as Least Concern and Population Stable by the IUCN: ‘Due to it’s large distribution, its ability to occupy a variety of habitats, and the lack of any known major widespread threats to this species’.
Found in South America, the species is ‘restricted to the coastal drainages of the Guyanas, in Guyana, Suriname and French Guiana’ (IUCN) 2020