This commentary was originally published by Writers on the Range.
This summer, a grizzly cub in Grand Teton National Park gained international fame after an adult male bear killed the yearling’s two siblings. The sole survivor of the attack, dubbed “Miracle,” then separated from its mother to fend for itself, sometimes hanging around a busy area of the park.
Opinion
As Miracle’s story spread, the cub became the object of fascination for thousands of people. Perhaps that’s no surprise, as many of us are intrigued by the grizzly’s power and strength, along with the reality that it’s an apex predator, like us.
Miracle’s survival is precarious. Since she left the protection of her mother so early, she’s on her own, finding food before hibernating. Seventy-seven grizzlies died in the Yellowstone area last year — the highest number yet. As of September 2025, 63 bears had been killed; at this rate, the number of dead bears will surpass last year’s record. What’s going on?
You could say that grizzly bear recovery in the Lower 48 is a success story. Prior to European settlement, an estimated 50,000 bears roamed throughout the Lower 48. By 1970, though, only about 800 remained, with perhaps 130 of them in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem.
In 1975, grizzlies were listed under the Endangered Species Act, which ended their indiscriminate slaughter, and bear numbers slowly rebounded. Today, the Forest Service says an estimated 700 grizzlies live in and around the Yellowstone area, with maybe 1,000 more in the Northern Continental Divide region of Montana. Despite the increase in numbers, mortality rates are on the rise.
Most wildlife managers say the current rate is not a matter of concern. They say the species is stable.
And yet, is it? Roughly 200 cubs are born in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem recovery area each year, but of those, only around 40 survive. Wildlife managers assure us bears are doing well, but is this sustainable — especially when the mortality rate keeps inching upward year after year?
The most obvious reason for bear deaths is us. We are everywhere. 2024 marked the second-busiest year in Yellowstone National Park’s history with more than 4.7 million visitors. In August of 2025, the park was on track to see a 2% visitor increase over 2024.
On top of increased visitation, the human population in the Rocky Mountain West, where grizzlies roam, is growing steadily. Teton County, Wyoming has seen a 10% increase in residents over the last decade. The population in Teton County, Idaho is up 74% since 1990. Gallatin County, Montana has grown about 40% in the last 10 years.
On the ground, you can’t miss the impacts of growth: Trails are crowded. Parking is at a premium. You need reservations at restaurants and the traffic is often stop-and-go. Not surprisingly, bear-human conflicts are more frequent: Vehicle collisions kill bears, interactions with landowners kill bears.
Grizzlies might do fine with more people if their habitat were intact and healthy, but much of their home ground has been in moderate to severe drought for several years, according to U.S. Drought Monitor. This year’s berry crop was dismal. Whitebark pines, whose seeds are an important food source for bears, are threatened by beetles and blister rust.
All this forces grizzlies to search out new food sources and some of the best ones turn out to be ours. Our cows and sheep. Our apple trees. Our bee hives.
Wyoming U.S. Rep. Harriet Hageman has introduced legislation to take away endangered species protections for grizzly bears, which would be a major blow to their survival. “People shouldn’t have to live in fear of grizzly bears rummaging through their trash or endangering their children,” Hageman said. Such comments are deliberately inflammatory.
I have heard three people describe surviving a bear attack decades ago. All three insisted that the bear was only acting in self-defense. One even remembers how awed he was by the diamond-like glint of water droplets on the bear’s fur as she ran toward him.
I’m not sure what would happen if I faced a charging bear. I just want enough wherewithal to pull out my bear spray. While I hope I never have to deploy that spray, I am willing to take the risk to know wild bears roam the landscape. If grizzlies were gone, something vital would be missing from our world.
While grizzly bear mortality may not yet be alarming wildlife managers, I hope we’ve gotten a wake-up call.
So just make sure the little darlings have plenty of bear spray when they head to he school bus? The evangelics and the environgelics, ain’t they something.
I appreciate Molly Absolon’s thoughtful discussion of how growing human presence, habitat stress, and rising grizzly mortality should force us to rethink coexistence strategies. Her article rightly highlights that more bears dying is not simply a sign of “overpopulation,” but a warning of deeper pressures on the ecosystem and on the bears themselves.
Chad Guenter’s assertion that grizzlies are saturated in their habitat and “overpopulated” is overly simplistic—and not supported by the best available evidence. Here’s why:
Rising mortalities don’t equal overpopulation.
The recent historic death tolls in the Yellowstone area (77 in one year, with 63 already lost by September 2025) suggest that mortality pressures are intensifying. These deaths are largely due to human-bear conflict, vehicle collisions, and self-defense claims—not natural population limits.
Habitat stress and food shortages matter.
Grizzlies are already under strain from drought, a poor berry crop, disease in whitebark pine, and shifting-forage dynamics. Absolon describes how habitat degradation forces bears into human-dominated areas, increasing conflict.
Wildlife managers themselves acknowledge that mortality and conflict trends have risen as bears expand beyond traditional strongholds.
Management plans stress reducing conflicts — not blanket hunting.
The Interagency Grizzly Bear Committee (IGBC) has prioritized conflict mitigation: livestock protections, better education, secure food storage, community outreach, and targeted interventions. Proposing a broad “managed hunt” ignores these nuanced tools already in place and endorsed by experts.
“Overpopulation” claims often serve political aims.
Calling for hunts because bears are supposedly “overpopulated” conveniently shifts responsibility from expanding human impacts (development, roads, recreation) onto the bears themselves. Absolon is correct: the more people encroach into bear country, the more dangerous interactions we provoke.
We should err on the side of caution.
Even if bear numbers have increased, the ecosystem’s carrying capacity is not fixed. Until we fully understand the interplay between habitat limits, climate change, and human pressure, introducing large-scale hunting is premature and risky. It risks undermining decades of recovery.
In sum: the rising fatalities ought to alarm us, not justify harvesting bears. Absolon’s article raises a necessary warning: we face a turning point. Rather than assume “saturation” and open hunting, we should double down on coexistence strategies, stricter conflict prevention, and habitat restoration.
More bears are dying because they have saturated their habitat. They are literally overpopulated.
A managed hunt in all hunting units of the GYE is long overdue, like 15 years overdue.
More bears are dying because more humans are over saturating the bears habitat. Too many people, paying too little attention to their surroundings. Too many people totally ill prepared for a bear encounter. Too much vehicle traffic, always in too big a hurry. It’s not bear oversaturation. Think about it!
Bj, humans and bears share the same “habitat”. Humans are the apex species. We ALLOW the bears to exist where we say.
It’s simply because of human benevolence that the bears are even allowed to live.
As much as many of you will never admit, human beings are a part of nature, we are not separate from it.