Hans Väre: Speak of the wolf
If the number of wolf eyes watching us has doubled, the number of camera lenses tracking them has increased explosively, Hans Väre notes in a commentary for Vikerraadio's daily segment.
The wolf was the last of Estonia's large wild animals that I had yet to see in the wild with my own eyes. I had spent years roaming the forests and waiting in the thickets, often tracking wolves alongside experienced researchers, but I had never gotten closer to them than hearing a beautiful howl during a winter night in Soomaa. At least, not to my knowledge. This changed last Sunday, when a wolf ran directly across the road in front of my car on the border of Viljandi and Pärnu counties.
I can now confirm from my own experience that there are more wolves in Estonia than before. My limited personal observations are backed by statistics from the Environmental Agency. Last fall, the wolf population in Estonia was estimated at 350-400 individuals – more than double what it was ten years ago.
The damage caused by wolves has also more than doubled. Last year, nearly 1,300 domesticated animals were reported killed by wolves in Estonia. Considering how many wolf-related stories we've published in Sakala this fall alone, it's entirely possible that this year will set a new record.
There is no doubt that the number of wolves has significantly increased. But just as much as the rise in actual wolf numbers, the current fear of wolves has been fueled by the amplification of the ancient adversary from fairy tales through modern technology.
A couple of decades ago, we didn't carry high-quality cameras in our pockets like we do now. Even if someone had a camera, it was likely buried deep in a bag. Security cameras were rare, found only on a handful of buildings, and most people had never heard of trail cameras. Wolves may have roamed near villages back then too, but unless they caused harm, they left only tracks in the snow, which most people mistook for dog prints.
Even if someone caught sight of a wolf with their own eyes, there weren't many ways to report it. Social media was in its infancy and a fleeting glimpse of a wolf was rarely newsworthy. And even then – was it really a wolf? Without a photo or video, it was hard to verify.
Now, all it takes is opening the internet and we are greeted with countless images and videos of wolves: security camera footage of wolves near houses, mobile phone videos of wolf packs near Viljandi's city limits and trail camera recordings of wolves. These images may not match the artistic finesse of Sven Začek or Remo Savisaar's wildlife photography, but they far surpass them in sheer volume.
People are worried, some even panicked, demanding to know if authorities are waiting for wolves to attack humans before taking steps to limit their numbers.
The issue of wolves must, of course, be addressed – it is not an imaginary problem. But the other side of the story deserves just as much consideration. In some ways, we too have become like wild animals, often unaware of how closely we are being observed. While the number of wolf eyes on us may have doubled, the number of camera lenses tracking them – and us – has grown explosively.
China, with its authoritarian regime, leads the world in surveillance. Big Brother is quickly catching up with George Orwell's vision: it is said that China has over 700 million surveillance cameras, roughly one for every two people.
Estonia is far behind China, the U.S. and the UK in terms of camera density, but the falling cost of technology has significantly increased their numbers here too. The police network alone has 1,650 cameras, with countless more on private property. And why wouldn't there be? When property is valuable, but technology is cheap, it makes sense to embrace innovation.
But true benefit comes only when technology is used consciously, weighing both its advantages and risks. Unfortunately, most people rarely think about the latter.
More than security cameras, smartphones keep us under constant surveillance. I'm not even referring to sophisticated, hidden software like Pegasus, whose widespread illegal use was revealed a few years ago by an international consortium of journalists. Even ordinary people, who know about espionage only from films, record and share so much of what's happening around them that our privacy has worn thin, like a delicate Haapsalu shawl.
There are approximately five billion smartphones in use worldwide, meaning that in wealthier countries, nearly everyone except infants has one. For younger generations especially, it feels natural to film anything remotely interesting and post it online as quickly as possible, often without considering whether it might harm someone.
The European Union has introduced numerous regulations and restrictions to protect privacy, but these rules often end up complicating everyday life unnecessarily. Enforcing them in the freewheeling world of the internet remains difficult.
It's crucial to understand that technology amplifies reality in ways we often cannot predict. This might take the form of a deliberate troll or bot campaign to sway public opinion, or the echo chamber effect of social media, where everyone around us simply echoes our own views. But it also includes the rapid spread of hardware that we barely notice. The way humanity consumes and collects information has fundamentally changed.
Camera lenses relentlessly hunt both the bad and the good, and there is no shutting them down. It's easy to follow public opinion without seeing the bigger picture behind isolated, amplified incidents. That's why it's essential to ensure that what is recorded is handled and analyzed responsibly and thoughtfully.
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Editor: Marcus Turovski