Giants in Gentle Company: Sperm Whales and the Quiet Science of Care

In a remarkable and deeply moving observation, sperm whales have been seen appearing to “assist” a mother during the birth of her calf; behaviour that researchers are cautiously comparing to midwifery. While scientists are rightly careful about interpreting intent, what was documented is striking: adult whales positioning themselves close to a labouring female, circling slowly, and even helping to support the newborn calf as it reached the surface for its first breath.

For a species already known for its intelligence and complex communication, this behaviour adds even more to our understanding of these whales as deeply social animals. It also raises a tantalising question: are we witnessing not just hard-wired instinct, but something closer to empathy or cooperative care?

We are not entirely in the dark here. Across the animal kingdom, there are precedents. Female African elephants, for example, are well known to form tight-knit matriarchal groups where births are communal events. Other females often referred to as “allomothers” will protectively stand guard, assist and steady the calf to its feet, and even help guide it to suckle. These behaviours are not fleeting; they reflect long-term social bonds and shared investment in the survival of the group.

Among marine mammals, similar patterns are emerging. Dolphins have been observed supporting sick or injured pod members at the surface, while orcas maintain lifelong family units led by older females. In each case, cooperation goes beyond simple survival - it begins to resemble care.

This growing body of evidence feeds into a much broader and increasingly urgent field: the study of animal sentience. Once a fringe concept, sentience, the capacity to feel, experience, and respond emotionally is now widely accepted across many taxa, including mammals, birds, and even some invertebrates. The implications are profound. If animals are capable of experiencing not just pain, but connection, stress, comfort, and perhaps even forms of empathy, then the way we interact with them - and the environments we expose them to - must be rethought.

And yet, alongside these insights, an uncomfortable truth remains. Whales are still being commercially hunted. This is not about drawing arbitrary lines between species - deciding which animals are more or less deserving of protection - but about recognising that the science is moving. Sentience research is steadily revealing that animals possess complex emotional lives, social networks, and the capacity to feel both joy and suffering. At times, it does prompt a difficult question: what more do we need to see before we establish clear boundaries around how animals are treated and used?

There are, however, signs of progress. Not long ago, it would have seemed inconceivable that welfare considerations for animals like decapod crustaceans - including crabs and lobsters - would begin to be formally recognised in policy and law. Yet that shift is happening. It reflects a broader change in how society understands animal lives, and how science is shaping that understanding.

For organisations like ORCA, working at the intersection of science, conservation, and public engagement, these moments matter. They help bridge the gap between data and understanding, between numbers on a spreadsheet and narrative. A sighting like this is not just a curiosity, it is a reminder that the oceans are alive with complexities that we are only just beginning to comprehend.

And perhaps most importantly, it challenges us. If these vast, powerful animals are capable of cooperation at one of life’s most vulnerable moments, then our responsibility towards them becomes clearer. Protecting whales is not simply about preserving species, it is about safeguarding societies, cultures, and connections that have existed long before we thought to look for them.

In the end, what we are seeing may not be “midwifery” in the human sense. But it is something just as extraordinary: a glimpse into a world where care, in its many forms, is not uniquely ours.

Main image: Sperm whale (credit - Richard Lovelock)