We’ve all encountered them: those supposedly delightful quirks of the English language, often presented as fun facts. “Did you know that a group of owls is called a ‘parliament’?” Or perhaps, “Did you know that a group of jellyfish is called a ‘smack’?” These terms of venery, as they’re formally known, seem to be everywhere.
But as someone with a deep interest in birds, I’ve always found these collective nouns for animals a bit irritating. I’ve never once used “parliament” for owls, “murder” for crows, or any of their ilk. Nor have I ever heard anyone else use them in earnest. Usually, a group of birds – any birds – is simply a “flock.” And for other animals, I rarely encounter groups large enough to warrant a special term.
This begs the question: Do people actually use these special group names in real-world conversations? Or is it simply a case of someone, somewhere, concocting these terms and then chuckling maniacally as the world embraces them? Are these terms of venery legitimate or just a load of hooey?
To get to the bottom of this, I decided to consult with the experts.
Have you ever referred to a group of vultures as a “venue?”
Dr. Keith L. Bildstein, Sarkis Acopian Director of Conservation Science, Hawk Mountain Sanctuary: “No, I have not.”
Have you ever used the term “chain” for a group of bobolinks?
Dr. Noah Perlut, bobolink researcher, University of New England: “I’ve now studied bobolinks intensively for 14 years and, no, I’ve not heard it.”
Have you ever called a group of woodcocks a “fall?”
Jake Walker, who studied woodcocks for his master’s thesis at Trent University, Ontario: “I sure as hell would never say it, nor have I heard it said.”
Alt text: American Woodcock sitting on its nest in a forest clearing, perfectly camouflaged amongst the leaf litter.
Do you ever use the term “rhumba” of rattlesnakes? “Congress” of salamanders? “Bask” of crocodiles? “Generation” of vipers?
Dr. David Steen, reptile expert, Auburn University: “I’ve never used any of these and would have no idea what someone was talking about if I heard them.”
Do you ever refer to a group of wombats as a “wisdom?”
Dr. Lindsay Hogan, Australian marsupial biologist: “Wombats do not form groups in the wild.”
So, it appears that scientists don’t use these terms of venery. They seem to exist solely in the realm of trivia games and online clickbait. While trivia can be entertaining, aren’t these linguistic tidbits ultimately meaningless if they lack any real-world application?
Perhaps, then, we should examine the origins of these terms. Surely, they must have originated somewhere.
Indeed, they did – the Middle Ages. The earliest known collection of these terms appears in the Book of Saint Albans, a 1486 handbook on manliness. Alongside chapters on “hawking” and “the blasing of arms” was a list of “the Compaynys of Beestys and Fowlys,” where many common terms first appeared. “Pride of lions,” “flock of sheep,” and “herd of deer” are all included.
Alt text: A digitized page from the Book of Saint Albans, showcasing old English script and layout.
It makes sense that hunters would use such terms, as they are often seeking groups of animals. Using specific terms for each creature would be more efficient in these scenarios. However, the list also contains terms like “doctrine of doctors,” “state of princes,” and “execution of officers.” Surely, people weren’t hunting groups of princes.
Terms of venery, therefore, seem to be rooted in whimsy. They were applied to groups of commonly hunted animals but later extended to groups of people and even to creatures like wombats, which only congregate in zoos.
Admittedly, some terms of venery have gained legitimate usage: pod of whales, troop of monkeys, gaggle of geese, pack of wolves. These terms often apply to animals that naturally live in small groups, and they’re perfectly acceptable.
It’s the other terms that are bothersome, like “murder of crows,” which people chuckle over despite the fact that nobody actually uses it to refer to a group of crows. Those terms need to go.
Accuracy matters. And so does bandwidth. Why waste precious brainpower on fake animal facts when there are so many interesting, true facts out there? Wombats don’t form wisdoms, but they do poop cubes! Yes, cubes! Now that’s a fact that will impress people at bar trivia.
Alt text: Close-up of wombat feces, showing the distinct cube shape unique to their digestive process.
So, let’s discard the useless information and embrace the truth. The next time someone winks and says, “Did you know a group of owls is called a ‘parliament’?” I’m going to reply, “Did you know anyone who believes that is part of a ‘gaggle of gullibles’?”
