In the rolling grasslands near the California-Oregon border, a new kind of standoff is unfolding between ranchers, wolves, and a squad of biologists armed with technology—and a little rock and roll. On September 1, 2025, scientists led by biologist Dustin Ranglack launched an experiment that feels straight out of a sci-fi comedy: using drones equipped with powerful speakers and thermal cameras to haze wolves away from cattle by blasting anthems like AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck,” movie clips featuring Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver from “Marriage Story,” and even live human voices. It’s a far cry from the old days of rifles and fences, and it’s catching the attention of ranchers, environmentalists, and tech enthusiasts alike.
For centuries, humans have tried almost everything to keep wolves at bay—from guard dogs and electrified fencing to horseback patrols and, when all else failed, lethal force. But wolves are clever, adaptable creatures. After being hunted to near-extinction in the early 20th century, they’ve rebounded in recent decades, thanks in large part to reintroduction efforts in Idaho and Yellowstone National Park during the mid-1990s. According to the Associated Press, there are now hundreds of wolves roaming Washington and Oregon, dozens in northern California, and thousands near the Great Lakes. This resurgence is a win for biodiversity, but it’s also reignited age-old conflicts on the range.
In 2022 alone, gray wolves killed about 800 livestock across ten states, as reported by ABC News. The toll isn’t just counted in lost animals; the stress of being stalked can lower cattle birth rates and toughen meat, inflicting further financial pain on ranchers. “If we could reduce those negative impacts of wolves, that is going to be more likely to lead to a situation where we have coexistence,” said Dustin Ranglack, the USDA’s lead researcher on the project, in an interview with ABC News.
The drone solution is as inventive as it is unconventional. Developed by scientists at the USDA Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service, these drones aren’t your off-the-shelf consumer models. Each rig costs upwards of $20,000 and is loaded with a thermal camera for night operations—when wolves tend to be most active—and a high-powered loudspeaker. The secret sauce, according to DroneXL.co, is novelty: wolves are naturally wary of new and unpredictable experiences. By cycling through a playlist of jarring sounds, from hard rock to movie dialogue to gunshots and fireworks, the drones keep the wolves guessing.
Sometimes, a little improvisation goes a long way. If the preset clips don’t faze the predators, the drone pilot can grab a microphone and deliver a message directly. Paul Wolf (yes, that’s his real name), USDA’s southwest district supervisor, recounted one memorable encounter: “He said, ‘Hey wolf—get out of here,’” Wolf recalled. “The wolf immediately lets go of the cattle and runs away.” For Wolf, a self-professed fan of heavy metal band Five Finger Death Punch, one favorite tactic is blasting their cover of “Blue on Black,” complete with the lyric, “You turned and you ran,” as wolves bolt from the scene.
There’s a certain absurd genius to the method. As DroneXL.co put it, “It’s about looking at a complex, centuries-old problem and having the wonderfully nerdy audacity to ask, ‘What if we tried to solve it by blasting AC/DC from a flying robot?’” The approach is non-lethal and, so far, surprisingly effective—especially in open rangeland where the drones can operate freely. Ranchers like Mary Rickert, who owns a cattle ranch north of Mount Shasta and has hosted USDA drone patrols, have seen reduced livestock deaths as a result. “I’m very appreciative of what they did. But I don’t think it’s a long-term solution,” Rickert told the Associated Press. “What I’m afraid of is that after some period of time, that all of a sudden they go, ‘Wow, this isn’t going to hurt me. It just makes a lot of noise.’”
This concern—known as habituation—is a real hurdle. Wolves, like many wild animals, can eventually learn that the noisy flying contraption won’t actually harm them. European herders have faced similar challenges, with wolves adapting to deterrents like flapping flags over time. Still, environmental advocates are optimistic that drones offer a flexible, scalable tool for non-lethal wolf management. “Wolves are frightened of novel things,” said Amaroq Weiss of the Center for Biological Diversity. “I know that in the human imagination, people think of wolves as big, scary critters that are scared of nothing.”
But the technology isn’t without its drawbacks. The $20,000 price tag per drone, the need for professional pilot training, and the limited effectiveness in wooded or mountainous terrain all pose significant barriers for widespread adoption. In dense forests, maintaining a clear line of sight and stable signal can be nearly impossible. As DroneXL.co notes, “The high cost of the equipment and the need for professional pilot training also present significant barriers for the average rancher.”
There’s also the question of what happens if the drones fail. For ranchers like Rickert, the stakes are high. “If the drones don’t work over the long term, she might have to close the business, which she’s been involved in since at least the 1980s,” reported the Associated Press. Compensation programs exist for livestock killed by wolves, but they don’t cover the hidden costs of stressed cattle. Rickert has even advocated for permission to shoot wolves if attacks persist.
Despite these challenges, the experiment has inspired hope among many who see it as a step toward peaceful coexistence. “It’s a gentle, intelligent way to help humans and wildlife coexist,” DroneXL.co reflected. The USDA team has continued cattle protection patrols throughout the summer, expanding their reach as far south as California’s Sierra Valley in August, according to the California Department of Fish and Wildlife. For now, the drones are a proof-of-concept—an audacious, modern twist on an ancient struggle.
Looking ahead, advocates and scientists alike hope that as the technology matures and costs come down, even more ranchers will have access to these high-flying guardians. Who knows? Someday, a rancher might only need to ask politely—via drone—for the wolves to move along. Until then, the American West will continue to echo not just with the howl of wolves, but with the unmistakable riffs of rock music and the determined voices of those striving for balance between nature and livelihood.
