by NatureNS Executive Director, Becky Parker
Bears are a hot topic right now in Nova Scotia, in part, because the last few years have seen particularly high numbers of nuisance bear reports and, in another part, because of the recent decision from the province to not go ahead with the proposed spring bear hunt and subsequent polarized response from members of the public.
Like all polarizing issues today, we risk losing the nuanced truth of the matter when emotions rule the discussion, and it seems to us at Nature Nova Scotia, even months after the province’s decision, that emotions are still running high.
Today, on International Women’s Day, Jess and I led a bear-themed hike for femme-identifying nature enthusiasts on the outskirts of Halifax, where we discussed the life history and ecology of actual bears as well as our experiences with men in the woods and which had all attendees agreeing that we would, indeed, “choose the bear.” But first, I had to moderate comments on a social media post calling for responses to our moose research survey, most of which were not about moose, but bears. The post had attracted a handful of new responses to our survey, as intended, but also attracted far more other folks, usually men, who seemed more interested in attacking the organization for the comment paper we had provided during the 2024 spring bear hunt consultation period than in talking to us about moose. It was only after I had removed the worst of the comments, dismissing Nature Nova Scotia’s staff and board as tree-hugging, woke, government-funded sleeper cells who’s only mission is to make life worse for bear hunters that I put on my ice grippers and set out with a much kinder group of people to discuss bear biology.
Later in the day, as I read through the comments that were left on that moose post, the ones civil enough to remain and serve as discussion points for those following along, I was struck by how strong some commenters seemed to feel in their assumptions about moose, deer, and bears, and thought about the hatred some of the men projected towards the organization in those deleted comments (or sometimes, to government, because they couldn’t tell us apart.) Social media can be… well, a dump, and it may be easy for people existing in these online spaces to forget that they are speaking with another human. It’s probably also easier to dismiss good information from a science-based organization when you don’t know the people doing the work, or if you’ve been led to believe that those pesky, blue-haired, city-dwelling scientists are so fundamentally different from you that you can’t possibly agree on anything. Then it occurred to me that, over the entire spring bear hunt consultation period, I hadn’t encountered a decent summary of what we know about bears right now in Nova Scotia. Wouldn’t that have been helpful in informing public discussion?
So, here’s a bit on what we know and don’t know about bears in Nova Scotia, from a rural scientist who grew up hunting:
Monitoring Muin
The American black bear (Ursus americanus, Muin, or simply “bear” to most Nova Scotians), is North America’s smallest and most widely distributed bear species. Across their continental range, black bears share a preference for mixed woods with thick understories and easy access to water and small clearings where berries and other foods might be found. They are omnivores and eat a wide variety of foods depending on their local environment and the season. In areas where they share the forest with humans, they may also occasionally raid farm fields or lawns with especially productive oak or other nut stands. They are territorial and not usually social, though females may occasionally permit older cubs to stick around beyond the typical 1.5 years and may share territory with adult daughters.
Bears are widespread and apparently not uncommon throughout Nova Scotia, so it may surprise you to know that there’s actually quite a lot we don’t know about them. Much of the local data that’s used to inform government decision-making around bear management comes from hunters, who are allowed one bear per year and are required to report on their harvest and send the pre-molar teeth to the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) (which allows for aging.) Through this data collection, DNR estimates that 400-600 black bear may be harvested in Nova Scotia in any given year, most of them young adults. Though poaching does happen and bears do occasionally die as a result of road accidents or euthanasia after getting into trouble with humans, this figure is probably an accurate average for direct human-caused bear mortality in the province. This kind of monitoring data is important because it can help inform an assessment of the overall health of the population.
That is, if you know much about the population you’re harvesting from…
We don’t know how many black bears there are in Nova Scotia, where they are, or what impact, if any, the current fall hunt is having on the population. DNR estimates a population size using what’s called the “success rate”, or how often hunters are successful in harvesting a bear versus how many they miss. This can be a flawed metric, especially in years when fewer hunters are active, as there are other factors at play in determining how likely any individual hunter is to successfully harvest their target bear and hunters may not be evenly distributed across the province. Estimating total population size from a small subset of bears is tricky. There are genetic methods you can use to assess interrelatedness and infer population size from there, and there is some value to qualitative reports of increasing or decreasing bear sightings from the public, as well as to the success rate provided by hunters, but at present Nova Scotia doesn’t have a comprehensive bear monitoring program. A Masters thesis by Brittni Scott revealed genetic sub-groupings for black bears in Nova Scotia (a north-eastern grouping and a south-western grouping), but did not suggest that inbreeding was occurring in either group. We may reasonably assume that the black bear population is, overall, connected enough to allow for interbreeding and that bears are evenly or near-evenly distributed across the province, where there is suitable habitat. Without more meaningful data to inform population size estimates, though, it’s difficult to set harvest goals or limits.
We also don’t know what bears get up to over the day or how the behaviour of so-called “nuisance” bears may differ by location or, more likely, what’s available to eat. Given that some proponents of the spring bear hunt have suggested the new season would benefit the management of nuisance bears, it’s important that we understand exactly what makes a bear a “nuisance” and all the management options available to us for bears that come into conflict with humans.
What Makes A Bear A "Nuisance?"
Across North America, there have been only 61 confirmed fatal wild bear attacks since 1900 (on our Women’s Day hike today, we compared this number with the number of women who are murdered by men across the same geographic range, which by most measures amounts to several hundred women, every year.) For bears, though, conflict with humans is often deadly. Most adult bears don’t die of natural causes but from hunting, designation as a nuisance bear, or more rarely, vehicle collisions.
An undergraduate thesis by Andrew Williams investigated causes behind human-bear conflicts in Nova Scotia in 2020 (a year which saw over 1,000 bears reported as nuisances) and found that the factors drawing bears into conflict were unique to the landscapes across communities, and that while features like berries, crops, urban change, and forest-urban fringe (essentially, how much suburb and near-suburb you have) were important, they didn’t reveal the whole story. We do know that most bears who make a nuisance of themselves (typically, by coming back again and again to the same garbage bins) are young, sometimes only 1 or 2 years old, and that they are more likely to seek out food sources in residential areas when natural food sources are scarce. Sometimes nuisance bears are ill or injured. Given the need for intact mixed woods and that food availability is almost always what draws bears into our communities, it shouldn’t be surprising that most human-bear conflicts happen in the suburbs and other low-density residential areas, rather than in the city or country (and despite claims from some spring hunt proponents that nuisance bears are only a rural issue.)
Managing Nuisance Bears
Journalist Moira Donovan investigated DNR’s procedures for dealing with nuisance bears in 2020 and found that cases were typically complex. Prevention advice and relocation were more common responses, with euthanasia only rarely used. According to practice at the time, bears were only to be euthanized if they were aggressive or unusually bold toward people, persisted in staying in or near populated areas, had previously been relocated, are injured, or if the bear was a cub orphaned early in the year. At the time, Nova Scotia did not allow for the rehabilitation of black bears (neither do Newfoundland and Labrador, Saskatchewan, Yukon, or Nunavut) though other jurisdictions do and research suggests the risks of cub rehabilitation, in particular, may be quite low. The reasons for Nova Scotia’s no-rehab stance seem to be related to capacity issues within DNR and concern that rehabilitated bears could become too accustomed to humans and turn into nuisance bears after release. But research from other jurisdictions doesn’t support this assumption. Rather, preventing nuisance bears has much more to do with human behaviour and smart community planning.
Following the controversial euthanization of a young bear cub in 2020, a proposal from wildlife rescue Hope for Wildlife to start rehabilitating bear cubs, and much public pressure, the Houston government made a promise as part of its 2021 mandate “to provide options for regulated wildlife centres to rehabilitate orphaned bear cubs.” In a statement to CBC earlier this year, DNR suggested that Nova Scotia could begin rehabilitating cubs as early as spring 2025. But there is still concern within government and in our communities around the potential risks rehabilitated bears pose to humans and, without local research available to inform decision making, that concern (and the call for a spring hunt as a human safety measure) may persist.
In 2022, Dr. Mark Mallory at Acadia University began comparing other jurisdictions approaches to bear rehabilitation and, in 2024, was preparing a monitoring study for released nuisance bears that would make use of transmitter collars. This research will follow a small number of bears and determine what there bear’s home range is, how it moves through the landscape, and what type of habitat it’s using over time, allowing us to better assess the risk released bears pose to the public, if any at all. If the province allows for cub rehabilitation in 2025, there may be further research opportunities to assess the danger, or lack thereof, that bear rehabilitation poses to Nova Scotians.
What Do Nova Scotians Want For Bears?
Some Nova Scotians hunt black bear, some for food, some for sport, some for the products that can be sold and exported, and some for all of these reasons. Some Nova Scotians take issue with the hunting of top predators, the method of hunting, or object to the sale of bear products. I have yet to meet a Nova Scotian who didn’t care at all about the continued health of the black bear population.
Concerning the 2024 proposal for a spring bear hunt, Nature Nova Scotia voiced several concerns, mostly around the lack of local information available to inform decision making and existence of other information to suggest potential risks – to humans and bears. Bears are commonly baited in Nova Scotia, and though there isn’t yet research confirming that baiting results in more human-bear conflicts in Nova Scotia, research from Ontario has found a relationship between spring baiting and higher instances of nuisance bears. Bear baiting is not a universal practice and the majority of provinces and states that do allow for a spring hunt do not allow for baiting. We and other groups who sent in comments were also skeptical that even the most experienced hunter would be able to tell if a female bear visiting a spring bait pile had cubs, as females will leave cubs for several hours even at that young spring age. Orphaned cubs have a much higher chance of surviving when they are older so it may be reasonable to assume that the existing fall hunt poses less of a threat to cubs than the proposed spring hunt.
Over 17,000 Nova Scotians responded to the government’s spring hunt consultation survey, with 51% opposed to the hunt and 47% favour, while 2% were neutral. A little over half of respondents who were also landowners, hunters, or farmers supported the spring hunt. Those opposed to the hunt cited concerns over bear conservation, potential safety issues, and the potential for conflict with other outdoor activities. Given the 70,000 people who signed a petition over the province’s decision to euthanize that bear cub in 2020, it would seem that many Nova Scotians support the possibility of bear cub rehabilitation, regardless of how they feel about a spring hunt.
Other organizations who provided statements during the spring hunt consultation had concerns about animal welfare, related to the potential for increased orphaning or because of objection to the use of baiting and snares, and about potential conflicts with other nature enjoyment activities that tend to take place in the spring, like hiking, birding, and fishing.
At Nature Nova Scotia, we also heard from individuals who had completed the province’s consultation survey concerned about the reasons behind the hunt. Bears are often hunted in Nova Scotia for meat and from my own discussions with folks within Nature Nova Scotia’s network, this seems to be a reason for hunting that most people support, or at least don’t feel too strongly about if they object to hunting in general. But the main bear product exported in Canada is the taxidermied bear trophy and it’s this kind of hunting-for-fun that more Nova Scotians seem to take issue with. To my knowledge, DNR does not collect data on how many bears are harvested in Nova Scotia for meat versus how many are harvested as trophies.
So Where Does All This Leave Us?
Well, we know that Nova Scotians have strong feelings about bears. We know that rural Nova Scotians were divided by an even 50/50 on whether they supported or opposed the spring hunt and that rural Nova Scotians who were also hunters, farmers, or other landowners were slightly more likely to support the hunt, at 64%. Most survey respondents (75%) were confident in their understanding of bear hunting practices in Nova Scotia and we know that those opposed to the hunt opposed mainly for concerns related to bear conservation.
We don’t know a whole lot about the bear population in Nova Scotia. We also don’t know much about ourselves. Though the province’s survey collected “why” data from those opposed to the spring hunt, it did not ask respondents why they did support the hunt, which any researcher reading this has already identified as a missed opportunity. From my own experience moderating angry social media commentary today and discussing the issue with (nicer) folks in person, it seems that those most strongly supportive of the spring hunt fall into two categories: big game enthusiasts and rural landowners concerned about nuisance bears. That statistically untested observation has me wondering if there are geographic differences in public experiences with and desires for bears. Are the half of rural residents who supported the hunt more likely to encounter a nuisance bear? If so, why, and, given how infrequently nuisance bears are euthanized under current practice, is solving this conflict more about education? The province’s survey also doesn’t provide more information on the comments from hunters or farmers opposed to the hunt, as maybe it should. If hunters and farmers are more likely to support a spring hunt (or as some spring hunt proponents have said, should be the only ones whose opinions matter) then what’s behind the opposition from those that don’t?
How can we possibly form a province-wide policy if we don’t understand either local bear population trends or citizen concerns and desires?
Anti-intellectualism & The Urban-Rural Divide
Some spring hunt proponents have dismissed opposition like ours as stemming entirely from anti-hunting sentiment, but this isn’t reflected in our statement or in the results of the province’s survey. It seems from my own discussions on the matter than most Nova Scotians aren’t supportive of trophy hunting, and certainly most Nova Scotians are not hunters, but these citizens still deserve a say in the matter. Natural resources management and biodiversity conservation issues affect all Nova Scotians and all Nova Scotians must participate in the decision making.
It would have been helpful if the province’s survey gave more insight into anti-trophy-hunting sentiment in the general population because it would seem the trophy-hunting community is where some of the loudest support for the spring hunt came from. An investigation by journalist Joan Baxter in 2024 revealed a long history of communication between DNR and surprisingly small number of proponents advocating for a spring hunt. Now, I only know a handful of hunters and each is likely younger than the average hunter in Nova Scotia, but I spoke to five individuals who also used the province’s survey to oppose the spring hunt and each expressed fear of retaliation from other hunters in their communities who, as they put it, hunted in a different way or under different ethics than they did. Some of these contacts are women and I thought about them as I removed rude comments from our moose post today and wondered why these men had chosen to direct their anger at me and this one conservation organization.
It would seem there is some division in the hunting community that is exacerbating the broader polarization around this issue and, maybe, what’s behind the harassment scientists like me face online. Though some proponents of the spring hunt have tried to paint this issue as one of urban tree-huggers against rural hunters, neither the province’s survey results or my own experience would suggest that this divide is much more than strategic story-telling. Half of rural Nova Scotians opposed the spring hunt. Yet, the men I encounter in these online spaces act as if I, or Nature Nova Scotia, or maybe conservation groups in general, are the single thing preventing them from expanding their guiding business.
As we move into a time increasingly marked by anti-intellectualism, rising misogyny, and political polarization, I can’t help but wonder if our old tactics in fact-based education are failing us. After all, what does it matter having evidence behind our position statements if other Nova Scotians we hope to find common ground with are so distrustful or dismissive of us? I wondered at the beginning of this blog post if a summary of our bear knowledge to date would have been helpful for informing public discourse around the spring hunt consultation, but I’m not sure it would have made a difference.
The spring bear hunt isn’t completely off the table. Government has simply tabled the topic for now. But bringing it back will require significantly more consideration given all the uncertainties I’ve outlined here and this will necessitate calm discussion between all stakeholders about complex and nuanced topics. Judging by my morning spent moderating grown men’s communication, this isn’t a conversation all are ready to have. Judging by some of the profiles I clicked on and then immediately banned, proudly displaying swastika tattoos, your-body-my-choice sweaters, and MAGA content, this isn’t a conversation all are safe having.
Maybe we need more calm moderators. Maybe we need less factual and more unifying communication approaches. Maybe the way to achieve real science-based natural resource management is to diversify the communities it touches.
Maybe we need more young women in the natural sciences, in hunting, and in government…
In the meantime, perhaps the province could revisit the conclusions of Kathleen Witherly’s 2008 research. Nova Scotia needs a comprehensive black bear management plan.
