There I was at the Brass Taps steps waiting for a student named Duncan. He is a pupil of Karen Houle, who is a philosophy professor who taught both Duncan and my editor-in-chief animal ethics. Karen herself urged me to meet with him. So, I offered an exchange of beers on me for a conversation about the ethics of zoos. He accepted. As I waited, I vividly recalled going to the Toronto zoo as a child. The sun was hot, but I had my dinosaur bucket hat for protection. I saw all kinds of exotic animals that day: tigers, gorillas, hippos, giraffes, so on and so forth. It was a hell of a good day for young Matteo.
For many young kids such as myself, zoos did exactly that—provided an educational and enjoyable day to the curious child. Depressingly though, I thought to myself, that is a service centered around human-interest, for an animal cannot speak its damn mind, or, I should say, damned mind. Think of it like this, an animal is living happily in the world as it’s fulfilling its nature, and now it’s taken out of his or her home and placed in the confines of a cage. A zoo is essentially a prison, just look at the parallels between an individual being arrested and tossed in jail and an animal sent into captivity. There is little-to-nothing to do and a lack of interaction. This can all be very depressing. Johnny Cash even had a name for this: the “Folsom prison blues.”
Now, being caged might not phase small animals. Just give Peanut the hamster a wheel and he’s set. But what about the larger, more complex and intelligent animals: The elephants, gorillas, dolphins and orcas? Can these animals get the folsom zoo blues? So the big questions remain: Is it right to keep intelligent and behaviourally complex animals, like elephants and cetaceans, held in captivity? Is it ethically correct to leave animals in isolation? Or even in couples? I kept these questions in mind as I ordered the beers. We then moved to the back room where it was quiet.
We sat down and got to talking and beer sipping. I asked, “So, are zoos unethical? What’s your opinion?” I wanted to get a feel for where the conversation was headed. “In short, no.” He said. “To be ethical zoos have to be more than a prison or observational area.”
I thought of Marineland and the controversies surrounding the park. Seemingly everyone loves Marineland but, consider the treatment of those poor animals, especially the intelligent and complex minds of dolphins and orcas.
“If I could take a stand on the issue… I mean really put my foot down I’d say no, hell no, orca’s and other cetaceans, like dolphins, should not be in zoos.” He said as he slammed his fist down on the table. “It doesn’t work. They get sick, they die, they get depressed. It doesn’t work—and this is an animal that lives 40-60 years, or something like that.” He said. “And when they get put into zoos, they start dying.”
“That number is probably cut in half almost. Probably more than half,” I said. I was so fired up that Duncan had me talking passionately. “And for what? For entertainment, for economical gain, it’s like a business venture.” He took a sip of beer and started talking. “Yeah, well that’s something we touched on in Karen’s course… The number of parallels between zoos and pornography.”
I sat up to the edge of my chair as he continued. “You’re taking something animalistic and wild and putting it on display as something consumable, but not even in it’s real and organic state, so to speak. The natural depiction is lacking in the zoo. And the parallel you can draw is that the zoo is this cosmetic and artificial version of the real thing, much like pornography.”
I laughed—it made sense, many people call pornography de-humanizing. Well, the same argument can be made about zoos: they are de-animalizing. They sap the essential nature of their animals. A lion can’t hunt anymore; they pace around and sleep instead.
We kept on talking. I then asked him about isolating animals in zoos within this two-by-two Noah’s Ark paradigm. “Wouldn’t these animals get bored without the level of social interaction they have in the wild?” He laughed. “Well, there’s a name for that, they call it cabin fever.” I laughed and made a note of it. I thought to myself, this is what happens in zoos, especially to the more intelligent animals, they get cabin fever. Earlier in the day I read in a New York Times piece that 85 per cent of elephants in zoos develop neurotic behaviour such as head-bobbing and swaying. Duncan even told me himself that some animals even self-harm because they get so bored. Well that, or they become stagnate and complacent. I can’t help but think of the similarities between these animals and myself when I’m in my bad depressive moods.
After about two-plus hours of good conversation, I had to call it. My girlfriend was waiting for me and I was running late. I thanked Duncan for his insight, shook his hand, and went on my way. But the question kept lingering, what new context do zoos need to become ethical? Duncan’s point rang true with me still after our talk; that zoos really do need to be more than a prison or observational area. Well it’s that, or animals are going to be singing the folsom zoo blues when they are moved from the wild to the cage.