Fish Smell Badly in More Acidic Oceans
Some fish living in waters with currently naturally high levels of CO2 lose their sense of smell, and with it their ability to perceive predators—a possible portent to a global situation in the near future. David Biello reports
By David Biello

SUBSCRIBE TO 60-Second Earth
On supporting science journalism
If you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.
Rising levels of carbon dioxide are already souring the world's oceans. Globally, seawater has become 26 percent more acidic since the 19th century because of additional CO2.
That's bad news for organisms like coral and plankton that need to form structures made of calcium carbonate and other minerals, because there’s less carbonate in a more acidic ocean. But it's also bad news for fish.
Previous lab experiments had shown that fish living in high-CO2 waters lost their sense of smell. That deficit caused them to lose their natural avoidance reaction to predators—an obvious challenge for survival.
So scientists looked at fish that live on coral reefs near spots where CO2 naturally bubbles out of the seafloor near Papua New Guinea.
The researchers found the same impaired smell—and risky behavior—in the wild fish on reefs near the CO2 seeps. But the same species of fish in regions with more normal acidity maintain a healthy fear of being eaten. The study is in the journal Nature Climate Change. [Philip L. Munday et al, Behavioural impairment in reef fishes caused by ocean acidification at CO2 seeps]
The research team is now examining whether fish can adapt to more acidic waters. Otherwise, our crazy environmental impacts may make them increasingly reckless.
—David Biello
[The above text is a transcript of this podcast.]
[Scientific American is part of the Nature Publishing Group.]
Subscribe to Support Independent Journalism
Great science journalism requires human expertise, time, effort and creativity. And it costs money. That’s why I and the journalists here at Scientific American hope you’ll join our community.
When you subscribe, you are supporting staff and freelance journalists who are passionate about telling science stories that are true, important and compelling. Our editors and reporters are often experts in their fields, which means they understand the nuances of big discoveries and can untangle the breakthroughs from the hype. With a subscription, you are also supporting rigorous fact-checking to ensure the words we publish are precise and accurate. And you’re supporting original illustrations, graphics and photos that bring you closer to an advanced laboratory, an ice sheet in Antarctica or a space mission in orbit. You’re helping us craft other types of high-quality journalism as well: Our newsletters are carefully written, edited and curated by staffers you have or will come to know and love. Our Science Quickly podcast is based on original reporting, collaboration with editors and scientists and exacting production.
Subscriptions keep this engine running so we can continue to deliver thoughtful, rigorous and independent science journalism to you. In an era of viral misinformation, this work is crucial. If you value what we do, I hope you’ll consider joining us as a subscriber