Awe makes you feel small and connected at the same time
Along Australia's eastern shores each migration season, something quietly profound unfolds on the water: tourists who hear humpback whales vocalize return to land measurably changed. Researchers at the University of the Sunshine Coast have traced this transformation, finding that the awe triggered by whale song reshapes not just emotion but intention — nudging people toward conservation behaviors they carry home with them. It is a reminder that nature does not merely entertain those who seek it out; sometimes, it rewrites them.
- Whale song is not background ambiance — it triggers a documented psychological shift that researchers call the foundation of pro-environmental intention, moving visitors from spectators to potential advocates.
- The stakes extend beyond sentiment: with roughly half of global tourism tied to coastal and marine ecosystems, the psychological health of these encounters is inseparable from the economic and ecological health of the oceans themselves.
- Researchers tested natural whale sounds, pre-recorded vocalizations, and hydrophone-detected calls aboard real tour vessels, grounding their findings in the messy, living conditions of actual tourism rather than laboratory abstraction.
- Tourism operators who design for genuine awe — not mere spectacle — are discovering they are not just running better businesses; they are inadvertently building a constituency for ocean conservation.
- The study lands as both a practical toolkit and a philosophical provocation: if sensory immersion in nature reliably shifts human values, then how we design encounters with the wild becomes a conservation strategy in its own right.
Each year between May and November, humpback whales move along Australia's east coast, and the tourists who follow them out onto the water often come back different. Researchers at the University of the Sunshine Coast wanted to understand why — and what they found has implications that stretch well beyond a single migration season.
The study, led by psychology graduate Chloe Kjaer under the supervision of professor Lee Kannis-Dymand, was published in the Journal of Environmental Psychology. Working with Sunreef, a local whale-watching operator on the Sunshine Coast, the team tested how different acoustic conditions — natural whale sounds, pre-recorded vocalizations, and hydrophone-detected calls — affected visitors aboard real tour boats. The results were clear: people who heard whale vocalizations reported a profound sense of awe, and that awe translated into concrete behavioral intentions. They were more likely to recycle, more likely to make ocean-protective choices, more likely to see themselves as part of the marine world rather than observers of it.
Academic supervisor Vikki Schaffer, who has overseen sound studies aboard Sunreef vessels since 2022, describes the mechanism as straightforward but powerful. When visitors hear whale song and begin to understand what they are hearing, something shifts in how they relate to the creature and to the ocean itself. Awe, the researchers found, is not a fleeting feeling — it is a gateway to lasting intention.
The economic dimension adds urgency. Sustainable whale-watching generates meaningful revenue for regional communities, and with coastal tourism representing roughly half of all global tourism, the health of marine ecosystems is directly tied to human livelihoods. Sunreef manager John Fell notes that the research confirms what participants have told him for years: the experiences that stay with people are those that capture imagination and awaken the senses.
What the study ultimately argues is that visitor psychology is not a soft concern — it is a practical conservation instrument. When operators understand how sensory experience shapes environmental attitudes, they can design encounters that turn tourists into ocean advocates. One whale song at a time, the migration season becomes something larger than spectacle: a quiet engine of conservation.
Along Australia's east coast, as humpback whales begin their annual migration between May and November, something unexpected happens to the tourists who venture out on the water to witness them. A team of researchers at the University of the Sunshine Coast set out to understand what occurs in those moments when a visitor hears a whale vocalize, breach, or slap its tail against the ocean. What they found was that the experience leaves people fundamentally changed—not just moved in the moment, but altered in how they think about the natural world and their place in it.
The study, led by psychology graduate Chloe Kjaer and overseen by senior clinical psychology professor Lee Kannis-Dymand, was published in the Journal of Environmental Psychology. The researchers worked with Sunreef, a local whale-watching operator, to conduct their observations aboard boats departing from the Sunshine Coast. They tested different acoustic conditions: natural whale sounds heard directly in the water, pre-recorded vocalizations, and sounds detected through hydrophones. What emerged from the data was striking. Visitors who heard the whales reported a transformative sense of awe—a feeling that researchers call the foundation of pro-environmental intention, or PEI. This wasn't abstract. People who experienced the whale sounds reported concrete behavioral shifts: they were more likely to recycle, to make choices that protected the ocean, to see themselves as connected to marine ecosystems.
Vikki Schaffer, the academic who supervised the annual sound studies aboard Sunreef vessels since 2022, explains that the mechanism is straightforward but powerful. The natural soundscape of whale communication, combined with visitors' growing knowledge about the animals themselves, creates a psychological shift. "When you hear a whale sing, when you understand what you're hearing, something changes in how you relate to that creature and to the ocean itself," she describes it. The awe that people feel isn't fleeting sentiment—it translates into intention and action.
The economic implications matter too. Sustainable whale-watching tourism represents a significant revenue stream for regional economies along the east coast. Globally, roughly half of all tourism is tied to coastal and marine experiences, which means the health of these ecosystems directly affects livelihoods. But the study suggests something deeper: that tourism operators who prioritize immersive, sensory experiences—who create the conditions for genuine awe rather than mere spectacle—are not just running better businesses. They're creating advocates for conservation. John Fell, who manages Sunreef Mooloolaba and partnered with Schaffer's team, notes that the research confirms what he has heard from participants for years. The most powerful ocean experiences are those that capture imagination and awaken the senses, creating moments that stay with people long after they return to shore.
What the University of the Sunshine Coast study reveals is that understanding visitor psychology in nature-based tourism isn't a luxury—it's a practical tool for conservation. When tourism operators understand how sensory experience shapes environmental attitudes, they can design encounters that do more than generate revenue. They can create the conditions for people to become ocean advocates. As whale populations continue their seasonal journeys along Australia's coast, the tourists who witness them are being transformed, one song at a time, into people who will fight to protect the waters these creatures depend on.
Notable Quotes
The natural soundscape of whale communication, combined with visitors' growing knowledge about the animals, creates a psychological shift that translates into intention and action.— Vikki Schaffer, University of the Sunshine Coast
Immersive tourism captures imagination and awakens the senses to create powerful, meaningful experiences that sensitize people to the marine environment.— John Fell, Sunreef Mooloolaba
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does hearing a whale sing change how someone thinks about the ocean? It's just sound.
It's not just sound—it's a moment where the abstract becomes real. You're not reading about whales. You're in the water, hearing an animal communicate. That triggers awe, which is different from other emotions. Awe makes you feel small and connected at the same time.
And that feeling actually changes behavior? People recycle more because they heard a whale?
The research shows that when awe combines with knowledge—when you understand what you're hearing—it shifts what researchers call pro-environmental intention. It's not magic. It's that the experience makes the ocean feel like something that matters to you personally.
So tourism operators have accidentally stumbled onto a conservation tool?
Not accidentally. The best operators have always known this. But now there's data showing that immersive experiences—real sensory engagement—create measurable shifts in how people think and act. It's not about selling a tour. It's about creating a moment that sticks.
What happens to someone who doesn't have access to whale watching? Does this only work for tourists?
That's the real question. The study shows the mechanism works. But scaling it, making it available beyond boat tours—that's where the work gets harder. The researchers are essentially mapping how awe works as a conservation tool. Others will have to figure out how to replicate it elsewhere.
Is there a risk that turning whales into a tourism product diminishes them somehow?
That's the tension. Tourism can damage ecosystems. But the study suggests that when done thoughtfully, it can also create the political will to protect them. People protect what they love. And you tend to love what you've truly experienced.