It was Fat Bear Week last week. As the newly elected Exec for 2026 cheersed to a successful campaign period and the marvel that is Canva premium, I was reading the profiles of 11 chunky bears from bed with a tear in my eye – of gunk from the conjunctivitis I’d contracted, but you know. Counts. As a graduate, I couldn’t vote in the Exec elections. But I could vote for this.
Fat Bear Week is America’s version of Bird of the Year, coincidentally taking place at the same time. Every year, rangers at Alaska’s Katmai National Park & Preserve keep track of the brown bears who live there, returning to the Brooks River for the salmon run in autumn. Their sole goal is to pack on the pounds in order to survive winter hibernation. A decade ago, rangers began Fat Bear Week, selecting a list of contending “chonkers” (the only time I’ll accept millennial speak) in a March Madness-style bracket.
The brain behind it all is Mike Fitz. It was Mike who originally set-up live cameras in the park in 2012 as a park ranger to give others around the globe the chance to observe the wildlife he’d grown to love. In an interview with National Geographic, he said, “I got to see animals with different personalities and dispositions, and different ways of making a living. I started to interpret those stories to the general public, and found that the public really engaged with the stories.” And he was right – 1.4 million people voted in Fat Bear Week last year.
Reading the bears’ profiles, I could see what Mike meant. Each had their own character quirks and stories of resilience. I quickly became invested in the story of 32 Chunk (his actual name) who had a broken jaw, but he adapted, remaining as one of the largest bears at Brooks River. Grazer was the first mother bear to win the title in 2024. The gentle 503 challenged the stereotype of males as aggressive loners, with an uncanny ability to get along with other bears. 602 was known for his “peculiar stomping dance” he did when “his excitement level appears to be high”. 856 is known for licking his lips when feasting on salmon.
Switching to the live camera, I was amazed at how many bears there were in one frame. It was straight from the scenes of Brother Bear. I watched a bear splashing around the river, using its full body weight to repeatedly pounce on a salmon, then quickly devour it – prompting a pang of sympathy for the shredded fish. Other bears were parked up above the falls, watching the water closely. The cam cut to a close up of a light brown, fluffy cub snacking on a salmon’s pink flesh. I immediately sent a link to the groupchat of friends who’d just been comforting one whose relationship had ended. You can’t be sad watching Fat Bear Week.
The same goes for everyone reading this. It’s been a big year on campus. For students, wading through the thicket of the cost of living crisis to get your degrees and try to have a good time doing it. For the Exec, battling through bureaucratic bullshit to deliver for students, then descending into infighting over a complex international issue and how to practically and morally address it. For Critic, reporting accurately and fairly on a whirlwind of events.
At the tailend of it all, you just want to watch bears get as fat as possible on salmon and marvel at the simplicity of their purpose. When you get stuck in these wormholes, it can be easy to become consumed. Like falling into an algorithm of videos about Charlie Kirk or obsessing over student politician polls, your perspective becomes warped. And then amongst the campaign posters for Exec positions on campus pinboards, you spot a campaign of a different kind, one that makes you smile. For 32 Chunk, “Putting the folds in this month’s centrefold: a softer side of chunk” and then “Grazer’s girth rules the earth”.
Fat Bear Week has been my metaphorical touch grass moment. Voting ends September 30th, but it doesn’t end there. Explore.org is the world’s leading live nature cam network, with hundreds of live streams of wildlife from across the globe. Tune in if you’re feeling blue, are curious about the behaviour of pandas, or need a reminder that life exists outside of humanity’s chaos. And definitely put Fat Bear Week in your calendar for next year.