Goodbye Dippy, Hello Hope! 

The Natural History Museum has unveiled the new star of its main Hintze Hall. A 4.5-tonne blue whale skeleton takes centre stage, communicating a clear message about the planet’s future.

Today, the main hall of London’s renowned Natural History Museum has reopened after a somewhat controversial makeover.

We have waved goodbye to Dippy, the famous Diplodocus skeleton that has stood watch over the entrance to the Museum for almost 40 years. Now we say hello to Hope, the 25-metre-long blue whale skeleton, which has resided over the Hall of Mammals since 1938.

Since the news was released of Dippy’s departure over two years ago, the Museum has been met with criticism over this decision. In many ways, I am sympathetic to this reaction as, like many others, I grew up with Dippy as the mascot of the Museum. He was a symbol of the wonder held within the halls of this grand cathedral to nature. As I walked through those doors numerous times over the years, there was always a pleasant feeling of nostalgia, almost like greeting an old friend. And yet, despite this, I welcome the change.

Dippy the Diplodocus in the main hall of the Natural History Museum
Dippy in the main hall of the Natural History Museum

The story of Hope

Hope was a young female blue whale that became stranded near the mouth of Wexford harbour in Ireland on 25 March 1891. Local fisherman Edward Wickham spotted the whale struggling on the sandbank and eventually decided to put it out of its misery. The carcass was chopped up, and the skeleton was initially sold at auction and later sold to the Museum for a sum of £256, equivalent to over £20,000 in today’s money.

During the time Hope roamed the seas, there were an estimated 250,000 blue whales in the world’s oceans. However, commercial whaling nearly drove the species to extinction over the next century. By the mid-1960s, just 400 were thought to be left.

The story of the blue whales then took an astonishing turn when the world decided to take action to save the species. In 1966, the International Whaling Commission banned commercial blue whale hunting. Although the species isn’t safe yet, the populations have gradually recovered over the past half a century.

A new era

I decided to pay Dippy a visit towards the end of last year, knowing this would be the last time I would see the iconic dinosaur in the spot it had held since 1979. I thought about the original remains from which the cast had been made. What had Dippy been like when he was alive? What would it have been like to stand in its presence, gazing up at this mighty beast? But sadly, I will never know. Because Dippy and all of those like him are long gone. Nothing left but the traces of bone to be shown to tourists in museums like this across the world.

When I next visit the Natural History Museum, I will look up at the awe-inspiring remains of the creature that has taken Dippys place – the appropriately named Hope. I will feel amazed by the sheer size and weight of the blue whale skeleton, looking even grander, suspended in the vast space of the ornate entrance hall. A magnificent creature, the largest animal to ever have existed. But more to the point, a species still alive today for us to observe in all of its wonders because over 50 years ago, people collectively made the decision to fix humanity’s mistake.

It is no secret that we are living in a time of unprecedented environmental change. Human-caused impacts on biodiversity are becoming more evident, with populations declining every year. 

The blue whale was a species that once stared extinction in the face when they were nearly hunted out of the world forever in the early 1900s. But then an amazing thing happened, people decided the beauty of nature was worth fighting for. Extensive conservation work made the blue whale the first species we decided to save on a global scale, and since then, their numbers have soared.

So let the departure of Dippy and the welcome of Hope remind us of the incredible diversity of wildlife that still lives on our planet today and the uncertain future it now faces. But let it also remind us that we can do something about it.

I hope that one day people won’t look up at these remains of this creature, a species long dead, a mere shadow of its living self, wondering what it was like to see a living, breathing blue whale. Instead, let Hope serve as a gentle reminder to act now before it is too late.

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