From Jaws to Shark Teeth: How the 1975 Blockbuster Shaped Shark Myths, Science, and Culture

June 12, 2025

The iconic poster for Jaws (1975) set the stage for decades of shark fascination and fear. (Image By Roger Kastel - Published by the New York Post; courtesy of the Everett Collection, Public Domain)

Fifty years ago this summer, a movie about a rogue great white shark changed cinema—and how we view sharks—forever.

Steven Spielberg’s Jaws, released in June 1975, didn’t just terrify audiences; it reshaped our relationship with these remarkable predators, blending fear, fascination, and misunderstanding into a lasting legacy.

As we mark half a century since that iconic fin first sliced through the water on screen, let’s dive into the story behind the film, its profound cultural effects, and how it sparked a modern fascination with sharks—from groundbreaking marine science to the very shark teeth we proudly cherish today.

Making a Monster: The History and Release of Jaws (1975)

Jaws began as a 1974 novel by Peter Benchley before Steven Spielberg brought it to life on the big screen. Filming wasn’t smooth sailing – Spielberg insisted on shooting in the real ocean (off Martha’s Vineyard) rather than a controlled tank, a decision that sent production over budget and past schedule amid endless technical troubles. The film’s 25-foot mechanical shark (cheekily nicknamed “Bruce”) proved notoriously unreliable, breaking down so often that Spielberg had to get creative. Instead of showing the shark in full view, he leveraged suspense – ominous music, shadowy thin dorsal fins – to imply the beast’s presence. This happy accident in filmmaking, born from malfunctioning machinery, made Jaws even scarier by forcing viewers' imaginations to fill in the blanks.

When Jaws finally premiered in June 1975, it took a bite out of the pop culture zeitgeist. It was Spielberg’s second feature film (he was only 27 at the time) and became a phenomenon. The movie broke box office records, earning nearly $500 million worldwide on a modest $9 million budget, and effectively inventing the "summer blockbuster." As one film history textbook notes, with Jaws, “Hollywood embraced the wide-release method” and the movie stood as “the highest-grossing film of all time until the release of Star Wars in 1977,” proving the blockbuster model of wide releases and heavy marketing.

The sight of a giant great white shark stalking Amity Island’s beaches, accompanied by John Williams’ menacing, “dun-dun… dun-dun” score, left an indelible mark. The tagline “You’ll never go in the water again” proved prophetic – that summer, beach attendance reportedly dipped as moviegoers developed an irrational fear of the deep. Jaws had transformed a simple horror tale into a full-blown public obsession.

Cultural Impact: When Jaws Made Us Afraid To Go In The Water

It’s hard to overstate the psychological impact Jaws had on the public. The film tapped into a primal fear of the unknown ocean and put a terrifyingly familiar face (er, fin) to it. Suddenly, people who had never encountered a shark in real life were convinced that a great white might be lurking off their local beach. Reports noted that ocean-goers were terrified of even dipping a toe into the sea after seeing Jaws.

The cultural fallout went beyond fear of swimming – it turned into action, often with dire consequences for sharks. Sport fishermen launched a “trophy hunting” frenzy in the late 1970s, eager to conquer the monster that had haunted their dreams. On the U.S. East Coast, thousands of sharks were caught and killed for sport, contributing to a precipitous decline in shark populations (large shark numbers in some areas fell by about 50% in the years after the film’s release). On the West Coast, Jaws fueled vendetta killings and even shark tournaments, which – combined with existing fishing pressures – nearly wiped out great white sharks along parts of California’s coastline. In short, the movie’s portrayal of a “rogue” man-eating shark created real-life panic and hostility toward sharks. Coastal communities pushed for shark culls, and policymakers felt pressure to respond to a public that suddenly saw sharks as mindless monsters at war with humans.

This hysteria was driven by the film’s ultra-menacing depiction of sharks. Jaws showed the great white as a ferocious, vengeful man-eater that targeted humans with intent – an animal that “attacks humans for no apparent reason” as if it simply loves killing. That image stuck in popular culture, and was reinforced by news reports and later films, to the point that many people still believe all sharks are dangerous man-killers. In reality, this couldn’t be further from the truth (more on that soon). But in the immediate aftermath of Jaws, fear reigned. Galeophobia – the fear of sharks – spiked dramatically. Therapists and phobia specialists even noted that many patients’ shark phobias traced straight back to Jaws, a testament to how powerfully the movie imprinted upon the public psyche. With two unmistakable, alternating musical notes, Jaws crept into our collective unconscious.

However, the story doesn’t end with perpetual terror. In the years after 1975, an interesting thing happened: people’s fear gradually morphed into fascination. Once the initial shock wore off, sharks went from being objects of dread to objects of obsession. As Smithsonian Magazine noted, “in the public’s mind, the fear of sharks that Jaws initially inspired was soon replaced by fascination, which continues to this day”. Attendance at aquariums went up, shark documentaries garnered interest, and a subset of viewers found themselves captivated by the very creature that had made us anxious. This fascination came at times with a sobering realization: even as more people grew to care about sharks, the animals were in peril from decades of human overreaction, overfishing, and misunderstanding. The “Jaws effect” cut both ways – it frightened the public and spurred shark killings, but it also put sharks in the spotlight, paving the way for greater curiosity and, eventually, conservation efforts.

Shark Myths vs. Reality: Debunking the Jaws Legend

Now, nearly 50 years later, it’s still important to separate shark myths from reality. As a marine science nerd, I’ve spent years explaining to friends (including some Florida natives who refuse to go in the ocean) that real sharks are not the villains Hollywood made them out to be. Let’s bite into a few common misconceptions that Jaws perpetuated, and see how they hold up against scientific truth:

Myth: Sharks intentionally prey on humans as “man-eaters.” In Jaws, the great white maliciously targets people, as if it craves human flesh.

Reality: Humans are not a preferred prey for sharks. Great white sharks (the species in Jaws) evolved to hunt seals, sea lions, fish, and other marine animals – not people. Most shark attacks on humans are believed to be cases of mistaken identity or curiosity. Sharks do not target humans or hold grudges; even Peter Benchley (the author of Jaws) later admitted, “Sharks don’t target human beings, and they certainly don’t hold grudges.” In other words, the vengeful killer shark of the movie is pure fiction.

Myth: All sharks are deadly to humans. Thanks to films like Jaws, many assume every shark is a danger.

Reality: In truth, over 500 shark species are absolutely harmless to humans, and only a few (like great whites, tiger sharks, and bull sharks) have been involved in rare serious attacks. Even those “dangerous” species typically avoid people. You’re more likely to be struck by lightning than attacked by a shark. The notion that the ocean is teeming with sharks waiting to chomp on swimmers is a myth; sharks have far more to fear from us than we do from them.

Myth: Great whites are giant, boat-crunching monsters. The shark in Jaws was depicted as a 25-foot, 3-ton behemoth that could demolish boats out of sheer spite.

Reality: Real great white sharks are certainly big – females average 15–16 feet, males around 11–13 feet – but individuals over 20 feet are extremely rare. The infamous Jaws shark was an exaggeration of nature’s limits. And a shark ramming a boat to “get” the people on board? That makes for great cinema, but it’s not a documented behavior of any shark. Great whites are powerful predators, but they don’t swim around harbors plotting revenge on fishing vessels. The film’s portrayal was a monster-movie fantasy, not a reflection of normal shark behavior.

By busting these myths, we can appreciate sharks for what they really are: fascinating, ancient creatures with vital roles in the ocean – not evil man-hunters. Understanding the reality of shark behavior has been key in turning my initial fear into respect and admiration.

From Fear to Conservation: Jaws and the Science of Sharks

One of the most remarkable parts of the Jaws legacy is how it inadvertently inspired a wave of shark research and conservation. The very film that demonized sharks also motivated people to study and protect them. Some marine biologists have cited Jaws as the spark that ignited their career. “Jaws had the opposite effect on me. I wanted to work with sharks,” says Yannis Papastamatiou, a marine biologist who was enthralled by the film’s oceanographer character Matt Hooper. I can relate – as a kid born in '88 who eventually snuck a late night viewing of Jaws while my parents were asleep – the movie made me want to learn everything I could about sharks.

This positive turn wasn’t immediate. As mentioned above, in the decade after Jaws, sharks were slaughtered en masse and viewed as villains. But gradually, voices of reason (and passion) emerged. Peter Benchley himself became one of those voices. Seeing the damage done by demonizing sharks, Benchley spent the rest of his life advocating for ocean conservation and working to rehabilitate sharks’ image. “Knowing what I know now, I could never write that book today,” Benchley confessed, acknowledging that sharks don’t behave like the beast in Jaws. He and his wife Wendy even teamed up on marine conservation projects to help protect the animals his fictional shark had unfairly maligned.

Even Spielberg has reflected on the film’s impact. He expressed regret that Jaws “decimated” real shark populations, lamenting the “feeding frenzy” of sport hunting it inspired. He never intended to cause ecological harm; after all, Jaws was meant as entertainment. Some experts are quick to point out that we can’t blame a single movie for decades of overfishing and shark population declines – which is true. Humans have been over-harvesting sharks for fins, liver oil, and sport long before Jaws. Yet there’s no doubt that the film tapped into fear in a way that motivated some of those killings in the late 1970s.

The silver lining is that Jaws also shined a spotlight on sharks like never before, spurring scientific inquiry. Shark research accelerated in the ensuing decades. Funding and public interest in studying sharks grew, partly because people were so intrigued and concerned (even if that concern was initially negative). We learned far more about shark biology, behavior, and ecology in the 50 years after Jaws than ever before. For example, researchers began tagging great whites to track their migrations, discovering the now-famous “Shark Café” in the Pacific where they congregate – a behavior unknown in Benchley’s time. Public attitudes, while still mixed, have been slowly evolving from “the only good shark is a dead shark” to “sharks are important and need protection.”

And that shift is crucial, because sharks truly need our help. Today, sharks are among the most threatened animals in the ocean. Humans kill an estimated 100 million sharks every year (through commercial fishing and finning), which dwarfs the few dozen unprovoked shark attacks on humans annually. In fact, a 2014 expert study found that intentional killing of sharks out of fear contributes to the threatened status of at least 12 species. The great white shark itself, the star of Jaws, is now classified as Vulnerable on the IUCN Red List – one step below endangered – due to declines. The good news is that many people, governments, and organizations are now invested in shark conservation. We’ve established shark sanctuaries, tougher fishing regulations, and public awareness campaigns. It took time (and unfortunately, the loss of many sharks) to get here, but the narrative is slowly changing: sharks aren’t our enemies, they’re our fellow predators on this planet, crucial for healthy marine ecosystems.

The legacy of Jaws has thus become a paradox – it’s “one of tragedy for sharks, and treasure for shark research,” as one expert aptly put it. The tragedy is the needless persecution of sharks driven by fear; the treasure is the passion for understanding sharks that the movie also instilled in a generation of scientists and shark fans.

Sharks in Pop Culture: From Jaws to Shark Week (and Beyond)

If Jaws opened the floodgates for shark obsession, the decades since have kept the momentum going. Sharks quickly became pop culture icons. Hollywood, seeing blood in the water (so to speak), churned out numerous shark-themed films hoping to ride Jaws’ coattails. The late 1970s and 1980s saw Jaws sequels and a host of B-movie imitators. Even today, the “shark movie” remains a genre of its own – from realistic thrillers like The Shallows to utterly ridiculous fare like Sharknado. As one researcher observed, many films were released in the wake of Jaws specifically to capitalize on the subject’s popularity. Filmmakers often copy the ominous music, fin-in-the-water shots, and other tropes that Jaws made famous. The result is that even people who haven’t seen Jaws are influenced by its DNA whenever they watch any “shark attack” scene in media. This perpetual recycling of the “killer shark” image has kept the fear alive to an extent – but it’s also kept sharks in the spotlight of our imagination.

On the flip side, sharks have also become subjects of fascination in documentary and educational media. Nowhere is this more evident than in Discovery Channel’s Shark Week. Starting in 1988, Shark Week tapped into the public’s curiosity about sharks, offering a week-long television dive into their world every summer. It turned out to be a massive hit. In fact, Shark Week 2010 was the most-watched ever, drawing over 30 million viewers across the United States – a testament to how large the audience for shark content had grown. Today, Shark Week is the longest-running program event on cable TV, and it’s practically a cultural institution for shark lovers like me.

That said, even Shark Week has wrestled with Jaws’ shadow. In the 2010s it received criticism for occasionally veering into sensationalism – airing mockumentaries about Megalodon or hyping up attacks for ratings. The fact that those controversial episodes garnered record viewership shows that the public loves a good shark scare as much as a shark fact file. It’s a fine line between education and entertainment, and it underscores that the fear factor Jaws introduced is still a selling point. Thankfully, recent Shark Weeks have refocused on solid science, highlighting real researchers (often the very kids who grew up on Jaws and became marine biologists). The balance of portraying sharks as fascinating rather than evil is gradually improving in mainstream media.

Beyond film and TV, sharks have permeated everyday culture. They’re on t-shirts, logos, and kids’ lunchboxes. We celebrate them in events like Shark Awareness Day, and they even star in viral children’s songs (try getting “Baby Shark” out of your head!). This mainstreaming of sharks has helped normalize them – they’re not just nightmare fuel, they’re also cool. One quirky outcome of this fascination is the booming interest in shark memorabilia and collectibles, especially shark teeth. In fact, collecting shark teeth (both modern and fossilized) is hugely popular now, blending pop culture with a touch of citizen science.

Modern Shark Enthusiasm: Collecting Teeth and Treasuring Sharks

I count myself among the enthusiasts who turned a childhood exposure to sharks (at least on the screen) into a lifelong passion. Over the years I’ve amassed a personal collection of shark-related treasures, including a number of great white teeth, both modern and fossilized. Far from being morbid trophies, these items remind me of the wonder of sharks and how an animal like the great white is an integral part of this blue and green marble we call home. Each tooth tells a story, if only you use a little imagination. And while holding them, I’m in awe of the animal, the evolution that formed it and the eons of ocean history it represents.

These days, amateur collectors still scour beaches known for fossil shark teeth (for example, Florida’s Venice Beach, where I started sifting for teeth as a kid, or Maryland’s Calvert Cliffs) hoping to find those triangular prizes in the sand. Some go scuba diving in shark habitats to retrieve naturally lost teeth. Others, like me, obtain them through ethical dealers or old collections. The appeal is multi-faceted: there’s the thrill of discovery, the aesthetic beauty of the teeth, and the connection you feel to these incredible predators.

Collectors especially covet the teeth of extinct sharks like Megalodon, the prehistoric mega-shark that makes the Jaws shark look like a guppy. Megalodon teeth can be huge (over 6 inches long) and are found fossilized, having been preserved for millions of years. Owning one is like holding a real piece of shark lore in your hand. The market for shark teeth has grown so much that pristine Megalodon teeth and large great white teeth fetch high prices among collectors, and they’re often showcased like fine gems. I always stress, especially to younger shark fans, that collecting a shark tooth is cool only if it doesn’t encourage harming living sharks. The good news is that many modern collectors share that ethos, treating shark teeth as symbols of respect for the species rather than as hunting trophies.

Modern shark enthusiasm – whether it’s binge-watching Shark Week, diving with sharks, or collecting shark teeth – reflects a big shift from the fear-driven narrative of the 1970s. We’ve gone from seeing sharks as villains to recognizing them as vital, beautiful creatures.

Conclusion: The Lasting Legacy of Jaws on Sharks (and Humans)

Nearly five decades on, Jaws remains a double-edged sword in our cultural memory. On one hand, it instilled myths and fears that led to unfortunate consequences for sharks. On the other hand, it raised the profile of sharks in a way that eventually helped foster understanding, respect, and a passion for their conservation. The film’s legacy is visible every time someone references a “shark attack” in a thriller, but also every time crowds pour into an aquarium’s shark exhibit or educators use the movie as a teachable moment about what sharks are really like.

I can enjoy Jaws as a masterful piece of cinema – the suspense, the storytelling, the sheer thrill, and those brilliantly simple two notes, dun-dun. But I also view it through a scientific lens now, recognizing where art took license with nature. Luckily, the cultural fear that Jaws sparked has, for many, transformed into a deep fascination and admiration for these apex predators.

In the end, the story of Jaws and its impact on how we see sharks is a human story – one of fear, learning, growth and change. We went from screaming at the sight of a fin to singing the praises of sharks (sometimes literally, in the case of kids’ songs!). There’s still progress to be made in dispelling old shark myths and ensuring these creatures survive for future generations to marvel at. But one thing is certain: sharks have firmly bitten into our collective imagination, and they’re not letting go anytime soon. Whether through a blockbuster movie or a shark tooth necklace, sharks continue to capture our curiosity. And as someone who loves sharks through and through, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Celebrating 50 Years of Jaws

This summer marks 50 years since the iconic thriller Jaws first terrified and fascinated audiences worldwide. Fans are commemorating this milestone with theatrical re-releases, special documentaries, and unique events like “Jaws on the Water.”

Click here for a full list of exciting anniversary screenings, events, and experiences.

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