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Weyerhaeuser Environmental Books
The Lost Wolves of Japan
Many Japanese once revered the wolf as Oguchi no Magami, or Large-Mouthed Pure God, but as Japan began its modern transformation wolves lost their otherworldly status and became noxious animals that needed to be killed. By 1905 they had disappeared from the country. In this spirited and absorbing narrative, Brett Walker takes a deep look at the scientific, cultural, and environmental dimensions of wolf extinction in Japan and tracks changing attitudes toward nature through Japan's long history.
Grain farmers once worshiped wolves at shrines and left food offerings near their dens, beseeching the elusive canine to protect their crops from the sharp hooves and voracious appetites of wild boars and deer. Talismans and charms adorned with images of wolves protected against fire, disease, and other calamities and brought fertility to agrarian communities and to couples hoping to have children. The Ainu people believed that they were born from the union of a wolflike creature and a goddess.
In the eighteenth century, wolves were seen as rabid man-killers in many parts of Japan. Highly ritualized wolf hunts were instigated to cleanse the landscape of what many considered as demons. By the nineteenth century, however, the destruction of wolves had become decidedly unceremonious, as seen on the island of Hokkaido. Through poisoning, hired hunters, and a bounty system, one of the archipelago's largest carnivores was systematically erased.
The story of wolf extinction exposes the underside of Japan's modernization. Certain wolf scientists still camp out in Japan to listen for any trace of the elusive canines. The quiet they experience reminds us of the profound silence that awaits all humanity when, as the Japanese priest Kenko taught almost seven centuries ago, we "look on fellow sentient creatures without feeling compassion."
Grain farmers once worshiped wolves at shrines and left food offerings near their dens, beseeching the elusive canine to protect their crops from the sharp hooves and voracious appetites of wild boars and deer. Talismans and charms adorned with images of wolves protected against fire, disease, and other calamities and brought fertility to agrarian communities and to couples hoping to have children. The Ainu people believed that they were born from the union of a wolflike creature and a goddess.
In the eighteenth century, wolves were seen as rabid man-killers in many parts of Japan. Highly ritualized wolf hunts were instigated to cleanse the landscape of what many considered as demons. By the nineteenth century, however, the destruction of wolves had become decidedly unceremonious, as seen on the island of Hokkaido. Through poisoning, hired hunters, and a bounty system, one of the archipelago's largest carnivores was systematically erased.
The story of wolf extinction exposes the underside of Japan's modernization. Certain wolf scientists still camp out in Japan to listen for any trace of the elusive canines. The quiet they experience reminds us of the profound silence that awaits all humanity when, as the Japanese priest Kenko taught almost seven centuries ago, we "look on fellow sentient creatures without feeling compassion."
360 pages, Hardcover
First published September 5, 2000
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
February 25, 2021
A work that might seem hyper-specific at first, but whose genius lies in tying its niche-y theme to all sorts of grand, relevant things in a lovable way.
Japan's wolves were driven to extinction during the 19th century, largely due to the Meiji Restoration's focus on northern settlement and ranching, often under the guidance and advice of American ranchers (fascinating in and of itself). It's a similar case to what happened in the US around the same too and the two slaughters were linked in various ways. Walker rightfully deems the "modern" idea of the control of nature and the easy capability with which to destroy a species the main driving force behind such ruinous policies.
The main theme of this book though is how Japanese views towards the wolf changed, and this is the other fascinating bit. The wolf was once revered in Japanese culture as basically a nature deity that were beneficial to Japanese farmers and other folks in various ways. The shift in viewpoints was severe: something revered very quickly became vermin and was hunted and poisoned off the archipelago by the first decade of the 20th century.
How this happened is the crux of the work, but Walker links all of this to higher ideals of our sense of supposed superiority and supremacy over nature and shows how ecological disruption caused by our unthinking hubris leads to all sorts of bad ends.
Japan's wolves were driven to extinction during the 19th century, largely due to the Meiji Restoration's focus on northern settlement and ranching, often under the guidance and advice of American ranchers (fascinating in and of itself). It's a similar case to what happened in the US around the same too and the two slaughters were linked in various ways. Walker rightfully deems the "modern" idea of the control of nature and the easy capability with which to destroy a species the main driving force behind such ruinous policies.
The main theme of this book though is how Japanese views towards the wolf changed, and this is the other fascinating bit. The wolf was once revered in Japanese culture as basically a nature deity that were beneficial to Japanese farmers and other folks in various ways. The shift in viewpoints was severe: something revered very quickly became vermin and was hunted and poisoned off the archipelago by the first decade of the 20th century.
How this happened is the crux of the work, but Walker links all of this to higher ideals of our sense of supposed superiority and supremacy over nature and shows how ecological disruption caused by our unthinking hubris leads to all sorts of bad ends.
August 25, 2014
A scientific, cultural and ecological look into the extinction of Japanese wolves.
There was more at play here than just human hunting.
Rabies, habitat lose, and changing wolf behaviour with the increase of easily hunted livestock, all pushed the Japanese wolves and humans into conflict.
From honoured gods, which could help control deer and boar numbers to the benefit of grain farmers, to noxious pests of later ranchers.
There is a lot to learn and consider from this book.
There was more at play here than just human hunting.
Rabies, habitat lose, and changing wolf behaviour with the increase of easily hunted livestock, all pushed the Japanese wolves and humans into conflict.
From honoured gods, which could help control deer and boar numbers to the benefit of grain farmers, to noxious pests of later ranchers.
There is a lot to learn and consider from this book.
July 2, 2018
4.5★ Extremely detailed, sometimes to the point where you think "why on earth would I want to know this?" Not that it's a bad thing, but a casual reader may be lost early on. Very interesting, if a tad too scholarly for my taste, Walker's study explores ecological and cultural history of the Japanese wolves. But, I admit, I was a bit dissapointed. I expected more folklore than the author provides, even though he went through the sources and could write this chapter at least twice as long; instead, he decided to gloss over or summarize the stories briefly. That being said, I'd love to read a book devoted entirely to the folklore of the Japanese wolf, ideally with colour illustrations and full stories & poems translated.
Edit: In a somewhat sad little turn, Walker's Epilogue about robotic dogs and his prediction - that Japan, having exterminated the real wolf, would produce animatronic versions of the animals that once roamed the mountains as deities and demons - came true earlier this year. A robot wolf is now protecting crops from wild boars in Japan.
Edit #2: I feel compelled to round up my rating to 5 stars, despite the stuff I've mentioned, as it has been such a great read that I keep coming back to. It isn't perfect, but I can't expect one book to cover all that I wish to know.
Edit: In a somewhat sad little turn, Walker's Epilogue about robotic dogs and his prediction - that Japan, having exterminated the real wolf, would produce animatronic versions of the animals that once roamed the mountains as deities and demons - came true earlier this year. A robot wolf is now protecting crops from wild boars in Japan.
Edit #2: I feel compelled to round up my rating to 5 stars, despite the stuff I've mentioned, as it has been such a great read that I keep coming back to. It isn't perfect, but I can't expect one book to cover all that I wish to know.
June 14, 2022
The Lost Wolves of Japan is a mournful account of a once revered species being sacrificed on the altar of modernity/ progress. At ilhid best, Walker seamlessly weaves together historical narrative, biology, ecology, and thought provoking commentary. The middle section of the book is by far the best, with the focus on how Wolves, once revered and seen as protectors (generally), became hated and despised, ultimately leading to the 19th century adoption of mass killings to successfully adopt western ideas of ranching/ modernity. It was a slow process, didn't happen overnight, but there was a foreboding decline that could really only end in one way.
Far more often, however, Walker unsuccessfully conveys anything of value because the structure of his chapters and writing are kind of a mess. The last chapter deals with the aftermath of extinction but huge chunks are devoted to the emergence of a distinctive Japanese style of ecology. Interesting but also not relevant or anything I was interested in. He also jumps to Modern (90's-00's) Yellowstone Wolves to illustrate points and it worked at first but soon became overused in a work of history. As a history, it's pretty good but far from great. Better analysis of sources, a more critical look at developments, or even a consistent methodology would have helped. It often seemed like Walker struggled with coming everything he wanted to say and so shotgun blasted it. Each chapter had incredible highs but far to many valleys to really say The Lost Wolves of Japan is great.
Of course, the real impact of this book is sorrow at how poorly we've treated the world and other creatures. The industrial boom moved so fast and so efficiently, we're only now really looking back at some of the damages we've caused along the way. Wolves have always interested me and it makes me sad to think that by 1910 a breed of Wolves vanished so cattle could be ranched.
Far more often, however, Walker unsuccessfully conveys anything of value because the structure of his chapters and writing are kind of a mess. The last chapter deals with the aftermath of extinction but huge chunks are devoted to the emergence of a distinctive Japanese style of ecology. Interesting but also not relevant or anything I was interested in. He also jumps to Modern (90's-00's) Yellowstone Wolves to illustrate points and it worked at first but soon became overused in a work of history. As a history, it's pretty good but far from great. Better analysis of sources, a more critical look at developments, or even a consistent methodology would have helped. It often seemed like Walker struggled with coming everything he wanted to say and so shotgun blasted it. Each chapter had incredible highs but far to many valleys to really say The Lost Wolves of Japan is great.
Of course, the real impact of this book is sorrow at how poorly we've treated the world and other creatures. The industrial boom moved so fast and so efficiently, we're only now really looking back at some of the damages we've caused along the way. Wolves have always interested me and it makes me sad to think that by 1910 a breed of Wolves vanished so cattle could be ranched.
April 24, 2021
I thought this book was a very good read. It is on the academic side, but Brett L. Walker does a good job in keeping you entertained in the content. The book is only a piece of what is environmental history. The impact on Japanese modernization and its ultimate effect on the wolves of Japan. I think that this is a great read for those who are interested in different case studies of environmental history. If you are looking to peruse though something different from the genres that you are used too, this is certainly a great alternative.
May 5, 2021
Walker and Cronon delineate the contrasting perspectives on the wolf in Japan pre and post-Meiji Restoration (1868), providing insight into the critical ecological role of the wolf. As America's cattle ranching market became viewed as the key to a modern economy, Ohio rancher Edwin Dun was outsourced to help create a Japanese cattle and dairy market. Dun, consequently, launched a campaign to eradicate the predatory wolf, which had been revered across Japan for thousands of years. This book reads like a page-turner, offering a glimpse into a very critical point in human-wolf history.
June 17, 2019
I read this for a class expecting it to be unbelievably boring, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but that may be because I like wolves.
At some parts the author definitely does drone on with facts and numbers, but he also has parts where he tells gripping stories.
At some parts the author definitely does drone on with facts and numbers, but he also has parts where he tells gripping stories.
February 14, 2019
A very well-researched and poignant look at the cultural transformation and extinction of the Japanese wolf.
May 14, 2022
very slay very informative will write a proper review soon
October 2, 2013
A babbling response, not a summary:
“I know that the cries of the wolves that eerily split the crisp winter nights of Hokkaido more than a century ago,” historian Bret Walker hauntingly concludes in his introductory chapter, “are only one voice in a chorus of voices warning us of the silent future that surely awaits us.” This darkened mood pervades Walker’s study of wolf decline in the Japanese Archipelago. Yet Walker’s emotive style is not only a useful rhetorical device, but is also integral to a central argument woven throughout The Lost Wolves of Japan: that emotional engagement with the natural world matters. By integrating a cultural history of the Japanese wolves into discussion of wolf ecology and biology, Walker reminds us that our own emotions and perceptions of the natural world can inform our treatment of it. Wolves too, Walker provocatively suggests, have a rich emotional life that plays into this story of decline. My main quibble—and it is truly a quibble—is with the structure of this monograph. Why end a book that spotlights the unceremonious killing of countless wolves with a conversation about the debates among Japanese scientists on the ecological factors that also precipitated wolf decline? I felt that book rich with emotion, stacked with evidence of human-induced wolf extermination, ended with a rather sanitized accounting of scientific points of view.
What makes Walker’s tale of environmental decline unique is the emphasis he places on human (and, to a lesser extent, wolf) emotions—namely the ways in which the natural world evokes passionate cultural responses. Walker’s own experience with the natural world and these fierce canine predators speaks to this point. One of the most powerful scenes in the book is his description of a kill site. As Walker approached the fascinatingly grotesque scene of a butchered elk, he invites us to consider how many ranchers from Japan also stood over a carcass desecrated by wolves, surrounded by wolf urine and feces. Many ranchers, Japanese or American, would likely be “full of hatred and rage.” From that experience with the material word, Walker suggests, “they then created cultures and symbols by relaying stories to others, stories that spread throughout society and shaped the opinion of people who had never even encountered wolves.” He reminds us here that while many modern nations considered the domestication of nature an important step towards modern socio-economic prosperity, understandings about the natural world did not always emerge from state officials and bureaucrats who had little association with the wilderness they sought to tame. While Walker’s tale of wolf decline is, in part, a story of top-down Meji modernization, the book also reveals how tangible experiences with the material world shaped Japanese constructions of the environment and its inhabitants. Human emotional responses to the natural world impacted our construction of it and our future engagements with it. Much the same can be said, Walker suggests, for wolves.
Then why conclude a narrative rich with emotion with an intellectual debate over wolf extinction? While this chapter is important for displaying how ecological factors not directly associated with humans were also at play (as he rightly points out it is “arrogant” to think otherwise), grappling with the competing theories of Yanganita and Chiba obscures the devastation and emotion produced in the preceding chapters. There is something too sterile about this chapter that removes the feelings Walker considers so crucial to his text. Thus, the darkened mood evoked in the introduction (and recapitulated in the conclusion) loses its luster amidst the final chapter’s extinction debates.
“I know that the cries of the wolves that eerily split the crisp winter nights of Hokkaido more than a century ago,” historian Bret Walker hauntingly concludes in his introductory chapter, “are only one voice in a chorus of voices warning us of the silent future that surely awaits us.” This darkened mood pervades Walker’s study of wolf decline in the Japanese Archipelago. Yet Walker’s emotive style is not only a useful rhetorical device, but is also integral to a central argument woven throughout The Lost Wolves of Japan: that emotional engagement with the natural world matters. By integrating a cultural history of the Japanese wolves into discussion of wolf ecology and biology, Walker reminds us that our own emotions and perceptions of the natural world can inform our treatment of it. Wolves too, Walker provocatively suggests, have a rich emotional life that plays into this story of decline. My main quibble—and it is truly a quibble—is with the structure of this monograph. Why end a book that spotlights the unceremonious killing of countless wolves with a conversation about the debates among Japanese scientists on the ecological factors that also precipitated wolf decline? I felt that book rich with emotion, stacked with evidence of human-induced wolf extermination, ended with a rather sanitized accounting of scientific points of view.
What makes Walker’s tale of environmental decline unique is the emphasis he places on human (and, to a lesser extent, wolf) emotions—namely the ways in which the natural world evokes passionate cultural responses. Walker’s own experience with the natural world and these fierce canine predators speaks to this point. One of the most powerful scenes in the book is his description of a kill site. As Walker approached the fascinatingly grotesque scene of a butchered elk, he invites us to consider how many ranchers from Japan also stood over a carcass desecrated by wolves, surrounded by wolf urine and feces. Many ranchers, Japanese or American, would likely be “full of hatred and rage.” From that experience with the material word, Walker suggests, “they then created cultures and symbols by relaying stories to others, stories that spread throughout society and shaped the opinion of people who had never even encountered wolves.” He reminds us here that while many modern nations considered the domestication of nature an important step towards modern socio-economic prosperity, understandings about the natural world did not always emerge from state officials and bureaucrats who had little association with the wilderness they sought to tame. While Walker’s tale of wolf decline is, in part, a story of top-down Meji modernization, the book also reveals how tangible experiences with the material world shaped Japanese constructions of the environment and its inhabitants. Human emotional responses to the natural world impacted our construction of it and our future engagements with it. Much the same can be said, Walker suggests, for wolves.
Then why conclude a narrative rich with emotion with an intellectual debate over wolf extinction? While this chapter is important for displaying how ecological factors not directly associated with humans were also at play (as he rightly points out it is “arrogant” to think otherwise), grappling with the competing theories of Yanganita and Chiba obscures the devastation and emotion produced in the preceding chapters. There is something too sterile about this chapter that removes the feelings Walker considers so crucial to his text. Thus, the darkened mood evoked in the introduction (and recapitulated in the conclusion) loses its luster amidst the final chapter’s extinction debates.
August 30, 2013
The human drive to take territory from wolves, to annihilate these competitors, and to create wolf haters is crystalized in Brett Walker's The Lost Wolves of Japan.
The story begins around 1600. Then, the Japanese regarded wolves as deities, worshipped them at shrines, even left ceremonial dishes of red beans and rice next to wolf dens. The country had no large scale livestock industry and farmers saw the wolf as an ecological partner: the wolves killed the boars and deer that ate grain crops.
During the 1700s, the reverence for wolves dimmed as the human population swelled, encroached on wolf territory, and fostered human-wolf conflict. Some rabid wolves killed humans; and all of a sudden there was a bounty on wolves and the stirring of wolf hatred.
In 1868 the Japanese government decided to stoke that stirring into a squall when it began to modernize the country’s economy. At that time, modernization meant developing scientific agriculture and raising livestock on huge, new ranches, as Americans had done so successfully. Those ranches would be carved out of wolf territory. Wolves had to go.
In 1873 the Japanese government hired Edwin Dun, a rancher from Ohio, to help create the livestock industry and eradicate wolves. Dun went to work on the northern tip of Japan, on undeveloped Hokkaido, an island just a bit smaller than Ireland. When Dun stepped off the boat with starter herds, about fifty head of cattle and a hundred sheep, the development of the livestock industry and the government’s campaign to re-categorize wolves as evil predators began.
Once wolves were viewed as “noxious animals” instead of sacred deities, the next step was easy. Dun was, after all, a veteran American rancher. He knew how to eliminate wolves: bounties and strychnine.
The Japanese kept records of the rampage: By 1881, 406 wolves had been killed. By 1905, wolves were extinct. It took only thirty-two years—less than the average life span of a citizen—for the Japanese to go from worshipping wolves at shrines to wiping them out with strychnine. The key was for the Japanese government to shift the cultural perception of the wolf from deity to demon.
The story begins around 1600. Then, the Japanese regarded wolves as deities, worshipped them at shrines, even left ceremonial dishes of red beans and rice next to wolf dens. The country had no large scale livestock industry and farmers saw the wolf as an ecological partner: the wolves killed the boars and deer that ate grain crops.
During the 1700s, the reverence for wolves dimmed as the human population swelled, encroached on wolf territory, and fostered human-wolf conflict. Some rabid wolves killed humans; and all of a sudden there was a bounty on wolves and the stirring of wolf hatred.
In 1868 the Japanese government decided to stoke that stirring into a squall when it began to modernize the country’s economy. At that time, modernization meant developing scientific agriculture and raising livestock on huge, new ranches, as Americans had done so successfully. Those ranches would be carved out of wolf territory. Wolves had to go.
In 1873 the Japanese government hired Edwin Dun, a rancher from Ohio, to help create the livestock industry and eradicate wolves. Dun went to work on the northern tip of Japan, on undeveloped Hokkaido, an island just a bit smaller than Ireland. When Dun stepped off the boat with starter herds, about fifty head of cattle and a hundred sheep, the development of the livestock industry and the government’s campaign to re-categorize wolves as evil predators began.
Once wolves were viewed as “noxious animals” instead of sacred deities, the next step was easy. Dun was, after all, a veteran American rancher. He knew how to eliminate wolves: bounties and strychnine.
The Japanese kept records of the rampage: By 1881, 406 wolves had been killed. By 1905, wolves were extinct. It took only thirty-two years—less than the average life span of a citizen—for the Japanese to go from worshipping wolves at shrines to wiping them out with strychnine. The key was for the Japanese government to shift the cultural perception of the wolf from deity to demon.
January 10, 2013
The Lost Wolves of Japan is a first-rate academically-oriented text that combs through the natural and cultural history of wolves on the Japanese archipelago. Author Brett Walker used historical research methodologies to frame an inquiry into what the Japanese wolf was, and what led to its extinction. If you like historical detail, this book serves it up in helping after generous helping.
Walker explores many different themes in The Lost Wolves of Japan, most of which are centered around people, culture, wolves and nature. He pokes and prods the relationships of these entitites to each other by using various historical lenses. He examines the near-myth of Japanese “oneness” with nature; the culture of the Ainu (an indigenous people group in the Japanese archipelago) and their spiritual reverence for wild wolves, and their close relationship with domesticated hunting dogs; how early Japanese naturalists classified the wolves and mountain dogs that populated their islands; the Japanese government’s quest to modernize their society through ranching during the early years of the Meiji Restoration (ca. 1868); and theories of wolf extinction.
The book includes some nice gray-scale images from Walker’s boots-on-the-ground travels in Japan, including photos of wolves in traditional Japanese artwork, shrines to wolves, and a memorial in Nara Prefecture said to be a replica of the last wolf which was shot nearby. There are also maps of wolf-people conflicts and wolf-kill sites, which are helpful for understanding the different phases of interactions people had with wolves on these islands.
Walker explores many different themes in The Lost Wolves of Japan, most of which are centered around people, culture, wolves and nature. He pokes and prods the relationships of these entitites to each other by using various historical lenses. He examines the near-myth of Japanese “oneness” with nature; the culture of the Ainu (an indigenous people group in the Japanese archipelago) and their spiritual reverence for wild wolves, and their close relationship with domesticated hunting dogs; how early Japanese naturalists classified the wolves and mountain dogs that populated their islands; the Japanese government’s quest to modernize their society through ranching during the early years of the Meiji Restoration (ca. 1868); and theories of wolf extinction.
The book includes some nice gray-scale images from Walker’s boots-on-the-ground travels in Japan, including photos of wolves in traditional Japanese artwork, shrines to wolves, and a memorial in Nara Prefecture said to be a replica of the last wolf which was shot nearby. There are also maps of wolf-people conflicts and wolf-kill sites, which are helpful for understanding the different phases of interactions people had with wolves on these islands.
June 15, 2025
The subject matter is fascinating, but as other reviewers here have noted, the presentation is problematic, and certainly not aimed at the “general reader”. Far too much of the book (I looked ahead) is taken up by the author writing about how he’s trying to figure out what he is doing here - early-stage project thinking that rightly evaporates from most texts long before final version / publication. Walker’s incorporation of “theory” strikes me as tiresome, too, but I will admit to having little patience on that subject.
January 12, 2014
A good overview of how rapidly human-animal relations can change in turbulent times. I liked the author's personal anecdotes from living in the American west and felt they added to the narrative, though for a similar story in Europe make sure to check out Jim Crumley's 'The Last Wolf' for what I feel may be the ultimate book of wold-human relations these days.
November 13, 2015
An exhaustive exploration of wolves in Japanese culture - from folk tales, to diseases, to hunts and their eventual extinction. Very detailed stuff, perhaps too detailed for a casual reader but perfect for wolf enthusiasts!
January 2, 2015
Interesting subject matter, terribly presented and ponderously written. I don't want to waste any more time on this book than I already have (frown).
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews