For generations, the shark occupied a singular place in the human imagination: a silent predator, as mute as it was fearsome. That assumption dissolved in a Massachusetts laboratory when a researcher handling a small rig shark heard an unmistakable clicking — a sound the scientific consensus had declared impossible. The discovery, made at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, does not merely add a footnote to marine biology; it reminds us that the natural world withholds its secrets until we are finally still enough to hear them.
Scientists capture first-ever recordings of sharks making sounds
The ocean has been speaking all along. We simply weren't listening.
Mark
How did a researcher stumble onto something the entire field had missed for so long?
Mimi
Nieder was handling a rig shark during routine work on hearing ability when she heard the clicking. It wasn't a planned discovery—it was the kind of accident that only matters if you're paying attention.
Mark
Why did scientists assume sharks were silent in the first place?
Mimi
Most fish make sound using swim bladders, which sharks don't have. So the logic was simple: no mechanism, no sound. It's a good example of how an absence of evidence becomes evidence of absence.
Mark
The sharks only clicked when touched, not while swimming or eating. What does that tell us?
Mimi
It suggests the sound isn't for talking to other sharks. It's reactive—a startle response, maybe a warning. Like a hiss or a growl in the animal world.
Mark
Could this change how we understand shark behavior in the wild?
Mimi
Potentially. But there's a gap between a laboratory tank and the ocean. We don't know yet if wild sharks make these sounds, or if they mean the same thing.
Mark
Are other shark species likely making sounds too?
Mimi
Nieder thinks so. But that's still a hypothesis. Each species would need its own study. This is really just the beginning.
Mark
What's the practical value of knowing sharks can click?
Mimi
It opens questions about how they communicate, how they respond to threat, maybe even how we could detect them. But first, we have to understand what we're actually hearing.
Le Pouls
- A researcher studying shark hearing accidentally became the first person to document a shark producing sound — an accidental overturning of decades of scientific certainty.
- The finding creates immediate tension with established biology: sharks lack the swim bladders other fish use to vocalize, leaving scientists scrambling to explain what they are now hearing.
- Controlled experiments confirmed the clicks were no fluke — every one of ten test sharks snapped out sounds within seconds of being touched, pointing to teeth grinding as the likely source.
- The sounds appear to be a defense mechanism rather than communication, firing off in bursts during disturbance but falling silent during feeding and free swimming.
- Experts are urging caution, noting that laboratory behavior may not mirror the open ocean — the critical question of whether sharks click in the wild remains entirely unanswered.
For generations, the shark occupied a singular place in the human imagination: a silent predator, as mute as it was fearsome. That assumption dissolved in a Massachusetts laboratory when a researcher handling a small rig shark heard an unmistakable clicking — a sound the scientific consensus had declared impossible. The discovery, made at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, does not merely add a footnote to marine biology; it reminds us that the natural world withholds its secrets until we are finally still enough to hear them.
For decades, marine science held a quiet conviction: sharks made no sound. Whales sang, dolphins clicked, but the ocean's apex predators were believed to be fundamentally mute — lacking the swim bladders that allow most fish to vocalize. That certainty unraveled in a tank at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, where researcher Carolin Nieder was studying shark hearing when she heard something sharp and unexpected coming from the animal in her hands. "I was very surprised," she said. "I was under the assumption that sharks don't make sounds."
Nieder's team moved quickly to test whether the moment was a fluke. Ten rig sharks — a small, crustacean-crushing species — were placed in a tank fitted with underwater microphones. Each one clicked when handled, producing an average of nine sounds within twenty seconds of being touched, with most concentrated in the first ten. The leading explanation is mechanical: the sharks' hard, dense teeth snapping and rubbing together under stress. Crucially, the animals stayed silent while feeding or swimming freely, suggesting the sounds are a defense response rather than any form of social exchange.
Nieder speculates the clicks may function as a biological alarm — a startle signal triggered by a predator's grip. Other researchers find the idea plausible but are careful to note that what happens in a laboratory tank may not reflect life in the open ocean. Whether rig sharks click in the wild, whether other species do the same, and what role these sounds might play in survival all remain open questions. What was once settled — the silence of sharks — has become, suddenly, uncertain.
For decades, marine scientists operated under a simple assumption: sharks were silent. Whales clicked and whistled. Dolphins sang. But the ocean's apex predators—those creatures that haunted human nightmares—made no sound at all. That certainty collapsed in a laboratory tank at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts, where a researcher named Carolin Nieder was studying the hearing abilities of rig sharks, a small species that inhabits inland waters. While handling one specimen, she heard something unexpected: a sharp clicking, snapping noise, like the crackle of an electrical spark. The sound came directly from the fish.
Nieder's discovery upended what the scientific community had believed for generations. Sharks lack swim bladders—the air-filled organs that allow many fish to produce sound by vibrating them. Without this mechanism, researchers had concluded that sharks were fundamentally incapable of active vocalization. They were, in the prevailing view, silent creatures of the deep. But the clicking Nieder heard suggested otherwise. "I was very surprised," she later told ScienceAlert. "I was under the assumption that sharks don't make sounds."
To test whether this was an isolated incident or something more systematic, Nieder's team conducted a controlled experiment. They placed ten rig sharks in a tank equipped with underwater microphones and observed what happened when the animals were handled or moved between containers. The results were consistent and measurable: every shark produced clicking sounds. On average, each animal emitted nine clicks within twenty seconds of being touched, with most of those sounds concentrated in the first ten seconds—a pattern suggesting the noises were a direct response to disturbance rather than casual communication.
The mechanism behind the sound remains incompletely understood, but the leading theory points to the sharks' teeth. Rig sharks possess small, hard teeth designed for crushing crustaceans. Researchers believe the clicking arises when these teeth snap and rub together, generating the distinctive acoustic signature Nieder first detected. Notably, the sharks remained silent during feeding and while swimming freely, which led the team to conclude the sounds function as a defense mechanism rather than a form of social communication—a stark contrast to the complex vocalizations whales and dolphins use to interact with their own kind.
Carolin Nieder proposed one compelling explanation: the clicks might represent a startle response, a biological alarm system. "In the wild," she suggested, "perhaps in response to an attack by a larger shark or marine mammal," the sound could serve as a warning or deterrent. Neil Hammerschlag, president of Atlantic Shark Expeditions, echoed this possibility while urging caution. The laboratory setting, he noted, might not reflect what actually occurs in the ocean. "This study opens up the possibility of these smaller sharks 'sounding the alarm'," he told CNN, but he acknowledged that researchers still cannot be certain whether the clicking observed in the tank translates to behavior in nature.
The work ahead is substantial. Scientists must determine whether rig sharks produce these sounds in their natural habitat, whether the behavior extends to other shark species, and what role, if any, the vocalizations play in the animals' survival. Nieder herself suspects that other sharks may be similarly vocal, though that remains speculation. What was once settled science—the silence of sharks—has become an open question. The ocean, it turns out, has been speaking all along. We simply weren't listening.
Citations marquantes
I was very surprised. I was under the assumption that sharks don't make sounds.— Carolin Nieder, marine biologist at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution
This study opens up the possibility of these smaller sharks 'sounding the alarm'— Neil Hammerschlag, president of Atlantic Shark Expeditions
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