Following the Lagokefalos: A Fish with a Bounty on its Head

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Typical for this July, it was hot out as I walked to Varvakios Market on a Tuesday morning. The sun beat down on me, its light reflected by the cream-coloured buildings and sidewalks that characterize central Athens. As I turned into the colossal building that houses the fish and meat market, I was offered some respite from the heat. In turn, I was hit by a wall of smells and sounds. Styrofoam boxes, filled with ice and fish, squeaked as they were stacked on top of each other and shuffled around. 

The smell of fish and summer grew thicker as I walked deeper into the market. Each wall was lined with stalls, offering sardines, mackerel, and mullet. Some fishmongers had taken the time to decorate their displays with red peppers and bunches of parsley, pale green and wilting. At the back of the building, I saw a few men gathered around a box, slightly hidden from view. They pointed at something lying within it. 

“It’s the invasive species,” said the fishmonger who owned the stall next to it. The small, adorable, silver-cheeked toadfish — known by the Greeks as the Lagokefalos — had been found in a box of anchovies. As the men pointed out, this fish was still young and unassuming, but an adult Lagokefalos can reach a length of 60 cm or more. Armed with some of the “most advanced teeth in the animal kingdom” and flesh infused with the neurotoxin tetrodotoxin, these fish have been ravaging the Aegean Sea’s fish stocks and fisheries since they were first documented in Greek waters a few years ago. 

This summer, the Lagokefalos has been catching headlines. The fish entered through the Suez Canal and has been observed in the Eastern Mediterranean since 2008. However, its documentation in the Northern Aegean, close to Athens, has led to a media frenzy. The Greek media paint the fish as a monster that indiscriminately devours fishermen’s nets, native fish populations, and even unlucky dogs. As a result, the Greek authorities treat the Lagokefalos as a threat in need of prompt, unflinching removal. A bounty has been placed on the fish’s head: €5.33 per kilo caught. 

Lessepsian Migration 

The Lagokefalos is not the first fish to enter the Mediterranean through the Suez Canal. The influx of invasive species from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean — otherwise known as Lessepsian migration — has been growing since the channel was carved into the Egyptian landscape in the 1860s under the supervision of French architect Ferdinand de Lesseps. 

The Suez Canal is one of the major nodes of international trade. By using the narrow passage, shipping companies can arrive in the Mediterranean in roughly 14 hours. The alternative, which is to go around the Cape of Good Hope, would take 9 to 14 days. As a result, the Suez Canal is invaluable to the global economy —  12% of all global trade passes through it with a value of roughly one trillion dollars per year, or 3–9 billion dollars per day. It is sometimes known as “the artery at the heart of global trade.” 

The impact that the Suez Canal has on the global economy is regularly highlighted. Its effect on global biodiversity, on the other hand, is less conspicuous. Marine biologists estimate that roughly a thousand invasive species live in the Mediterranean, and that more than half of them got there by passing through the Suez Canal. These invasive species include the herbivorous rabbitfish, responsible for eating through entire seaweed forests and leaving the seabed barren, and the nomad jellyfish, whose swarms can reach tens of kilometers in width. 

Invasive species that enter the Mediterranean ecosystem can be extremely harmful to marine biodiversity. Ecosystems are held together by a delicate balance of plants, animals, and environmental conditions that complement each other and keep each other’s populations stable. The introduction of a new species puts pressure on the native species’ populations. If this pressure becomes too high, the entire ecosystem can fall apart.

Because the Lagokefalos is an omnivorous species with no natural predators, it presents a serious threat to the ecosystems of the Mediterranean. They eat everything —seaweed, crustaceans, mollusks, and fish —and therefore put pressure on multiple native populations. They are deadly to animals that accidentally consume them because these invasive fish are toxic. As a result, their population growth is going unchecked, strengthening the effect that they have on their environment.

Despite the adverse effects that invasive species have on the environment, an expansion of the Suez Canal took place in 2015 without an environmental impact assessment. Egypt deepened the canal and constructed a second lane parallel to it, allowing for two-way traffic. The objectives of this project were to shorten shipping waiting times and increase the number of transits possible per day, increasing the revenue that Egypt earns from canal use fees. 

However, this construction ignored calls from marine conservation groups to consider the impact that this construction would have on the environment, even though Egypt is required to adhere to international environmental agreements. As a result, the door allowing invasive species into the Mediterranean has opened even wider.

The Dying Mediterranean 

If the Suez Canal is the door letting invasive species in, then the warming of the Mediterranean is the friendly neighbour urging them to make themselves at home. The Lagokefalos is native to the warm, tropical waters of the Indo-Pacific Ocean. The Mediterranean, meanwhile, is warming 20% faster than the global average. This is, in part, due to the salinity of the sea. 

I spent a fair amount of time this summer bobbing along the surface of the Aegean’s shallow waters. Once I stepped onto the beach and into the dry air, I immediately felt a crust of salt form on my skin. The only respite was to step back into the tepid water to ‘rinse it off’ and grow a new layer of crystals. 

As a holiday-goer, this was not a major issue, and I spent most of my time on the Greek islands swimming in the Aegean. However, despite the idyllic beauty of the islands, it is impossible to ignore that the Mediterranean, as we know it, is dying. Haunted by the headlines warning of Lagokefalos attacks, I opened my eyes underwater and was struck by the nothingness that I saw —no fish, no seaweed, just sand and sea. 

Of course, the glimpse of the seabed that I caught while irresponsibly opening my eyes is not entirely representative of the state of things. The Mediterranean is not empty yet. However, the situation is dire: 80% of fish stocks in the Aegean are overfished, and the sea’s increasingly warm and salty waters are becoming unlivable for native species. For thermophilic invasive species like the Lagokefalos, who feel at home in warm waters, this shift in sea temperature is very attractive.

Because the Mediterranean is nearly entirely landlocked and located relatively close to the equator, it is highly evaporative. When the warm, dry air absorbs water from the surface, the salt stays behind. As the Earth’s average temperature rises due to human-driven climate change, and the freshwater rivers that empty into the Mediterranean dry up, this salinity increases. This, in turn, compounds the warming effects of climate change. After all, a saltier sea is a warmer sea because salt water holds more heat than fresh water does. 

Who is Footing the Bill?

If we are to speak of the Lagokefalos as a criminal, it is clear that we must step beyond an anthropocentric lens to acknowledge that the true victims are the mackerel, mullet, and molas (among others) that are native to the Eastern Mediterranean. These fish populations are seemingly under attack from all sides — climate change, overfishing, invasive species — and their survival is hanging by a thread. 

The threat that the Lagokefalos poses to unwitting holiday-goers, on the other hand, though described in great detail in the news, is quite small. These fish are shy of humans and are more likely to hide from them than attack them. As marine biologist Ioannis Batjakas says, “All of this is a case of much ado about nothing.” 

However, their population growth is posing a real threat to an already threatened Greek fishing industry. The once primarily maritime nation has shifted nearly entirely to a meat-based diet, even on the islands. Fishing has become less and less viable as a livelihood. In the period of 2011–2019, the mean annual income of fishermen barely changed. Meanwhile, the country has been suffering from a cost of living crisis, putting strain on ordinary households to make ends meet. 

Fishermen are often given the blame for decreasing fish stocks. However, as trawler captain Thanasis Ladopoulos expresses, “Why do they always strike the small fishermen? However much of an ecologist you might be, you cannot stop oil, bombs, companies, development!” As Lagokefalos eat through their nets and cause thousands of Euros in economic losses to already struggling fishermen, polluting industries and shipping companies using the Suez Canal make billions. 

As a result, the story of the Lagokefalos invasion is not only one of ecological concern, it is also one of environmental justice. Although the invasive fish are given the blame, humans are the ones facilitating the onslaught on Mediterranean sea life. But not all humans are playing God, splicing landmasses like sand in a sandbox. Greece is home to the largest fleet of small-scale fishermen in Europe. They did not make the choices that brought the Lagokefalos to their waters, and yet their livelihoods are in peril. 

The environmental impact assessment that Egypt opted not to make is not only an example of their negligence of the millions of non-human lives affected by increased Suez Canal traffic, but also of the thousands of people whose dignity is threatened when their source of income disappears. 

Criminal or Accidental Accomplice?

Realistically, the bounty on the Lagokefalos’ head is unlikely to make much of a difference to the spread of the fish. Past programs incentivizing the killing of invasive species by citizens have only had moderate success — if any — primarily due to issues in maintaining funding and engagement in the programs. The Lagokefalos is, more likely than not, here to stay, and only time will tell exactly how much damage it will do. 

But if we focus on the word ‘bounty’, it reveals a lot about how we typically perceive accountability in ecological crises. Bounties are reserved for runaway criminals. By placing a bounty on a fish’s head, we implicitly place the blame for its effects on the fish itself. In reality, the Lagokefalos do not have any criminal intent. These fish do not intend to destroy ecosystems or financially cripple fishermen. They are simply living. 

The fish’s damage is made possible by the industries and companies that find it acceptable to reshape geographies and pollute environments. The Lagokefalos is just one example of the invasive species that are unwitting accomplices in this process. For generations, humans have been altering landscapes worldwide and introducing species to new environments for their own gain. Once let loose, these invasive species multiply and affect local ecosystems, after which they are often framed as pests or threats. 

An All Too Common Narrative

The spotted lanternfly, native to southern China and introduced to the United States. through imported goods, is described as having “an appetite for destruction.” “Rampant rats” have been a persistent problem in the Dutch Caribbean since they were brought over as stowaways on shipping boats. In Australia, cane toads were intentionally introduced to combat beetles in Queensland’s sugar crops. They proved to be ineffective at attaining that goal, and are now considered “toxic invaders” on an “irrepressible march” towards the Indian Ocean, eating everything in their path. These animals are given the blame for crimes they did not truly commit.

The story of the Lagokefalos is quite telling because, unfortunately, it is not new. As has happened so many times before, the natural world is being moulded by people motivated by economic profit, who intervene without taking the rippling impact of their actions into account. The consequences of the construction and widening of the Suez Canal – and of globalized production chains in general — are deadly. However, more often than not, the guilty parties are not held accountable. Instead, justice slips through our fingers like the fish with the bounty on its head.

Edited by Khushi Mehta