After listening to the attached RadioLab segment, I was reminded of the following story from my past:

When I worked in Westport, CT there was a riverside bar that my softball team would frequent after games. Amidst beers & chicken wings, I became infatuated with a claw game near the front door. Unlike other claw games, this one didn't have small, stuffed animals. Instead it had about a foot of water and a dozen lobsters.

The bar was using the claw game as a means to make money. I think it was $20 for 10 chances, and if you were successful, the bar would have the kitchen cook your catch at no extra cost.

Needless to say, it was rather difficult to play, and I loved the irony of a claw game where the target were creatures with claws.

Soon I discovered that I was actually pretty good at this claw game. The team shared in my catches, and began enjoying lobster regularly.

It didn't take long, however, until I decided that it wasn't very fair. I mean their claws were bound and I was partaking in a game where their life was at stake. All I had to lose was some extra cash. It didn't sit very well with me.

So, I decided to change the game a bit. I could usually catch one or two lobsters with $20, and I decided that for that price it was worth setting them free.

So, after plucking them from the game's tank, I would run outside with one of my buddies, we'd quickly remove the rubber bands, and toss the lobster into the river.

Now, I don't know if that river could sustain them, or if they ever lived long after, but I saw it as a better ending then being dropped into a boiling pot after losing an unfair fight.

I'm not sure how many lobsters we rescued in all, but I like to imagine those lobsters have set up a small colony today—one where they are free from fishermen, predators, and mechanical claws.