This blog will appear in edited form in the Los Angeles Times Blowback section on Monday, December 15, 2008.

Zoos without elephants would be a lesson in compassion for the children of L.A.

Lori Marino, Ph.D.

Neuroscience and Behavioral Biology Program

Emory University

Gay Bradshaw, Ph.D., Ph.D.

The Kerulos Center

Randy Malamud, Ph.D.

Department of English

Georgia State University

In his recent article entitled “Zoos without elephants would be a loss for the children of L.A.” (Dec 9, 2008, Los Angeles Times) Hector Tobar protests the possibility that Billy, a 23-year old, Malaysian elephant held captive at the LA Zoo for nearly two decades might go to sanctuary and the exhibit might be closed forever. You see, Billy’s two remaining elephant companions recently died. Thirteen elephants have died at the LA Zoo since 1975. About half of them died before they reached the age of 20 even though the natural lifespan of elephants is 65-70 years. Given these statistics, Billy’s age is concerning. In light of the mountain of evidence that has accumulated over the past three decades showing the extensive and profoundly adverse effects of animals’ emotions on their physical health, this is not at all surprising.

Despite his youth, Billy already shows signs of aging and hardship. Beyond suffering from tail abscesses and other infections, he has developed a stereotypy – a repetitive head tic that is indicative of severe duress commonly found in confined animals and humans. This is not unexpected. Elephants share common brain structures and functions with us. They recognize themselves in mirrors and thus share a similar sense of self with us. Elephants also suffer from the stress of forced incarceration, physical deprivation, social isolation and other trauma. Consequently, when children see Billy they are looking at someone not too much different from the children they see on the news who are victims of war and genocide—sentenced to live without family and friends under harsh conditions resembling a prison.

Mr. Tobar is aware of all this evidence for trauma and suffering on the part of this animal, which makes his response nothing short of stunningly callous. He seems to think that people have a right to see and do whatever they want, even if it means great harm to another individual, in this case, an elephant. We are sure Mr. Tobar would not concede that this is his viewpoint but he appears oblivious to his own insensitivity. His argument is a chilling example of how our institutions of captivity (i.e. zoos and marine parks) have been successful at “breaking us in”, that is, conditioning us to think in ways that culminated in such attitudes.

Tobar claims he is concerned about the impact of losing the elephant exhibit on children. In doing so he attempts to frame the issue as “elephants versus children”. He knows better than that. He knows that there are many things that his and other children will never experience. Most children do not grow up to pet a dinosaur (indeed none do!), climb Mt. Everest, or dance in the American Ballet Theater. And Mr. Tobar knows that no child suffers because of lack of these experiences. They will grow up to lead happy meaningful lives without these experiences. The same is true of seeing elephants in zoos.

We argue that, in fact, seeing suffering animals held in confinement in zoos has a negative impact on children. They come to learn that other animals are commodities, to be controlled and exploited. They come to learn that we need not be concerned about suffering as long as we are entertained. Yet we expect these children to become ethical caring adults. It is irrational to do so.

We agree with Mr. Tobar on one point. Zoos without elephants would indeed have an impact on children. It would be a lesson in compassion.

Signatories (in alphabetical order):

Marc Bekoff, Ph.D., Professor Emeritus of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at the University of Colorado, Boulder

Ron Broglio, Ph.D., Asst. Professor, School of Literature, Communication and Culture, Georgia Institute of Technology

Brenda McCowan, Ph.D., Assoc. Professor, School of Veterinary Medicine, University of California, Davis

Franklin D. McMillan, DVM, Director of Well-Being Studies, Best Friends Animal Society

Henry Melvyn Richardson, DVM, Former Zoo Veterinarian

Michael Mountain, Former President and Co-Founder, Best Friends Animal Society

Carrie Packwood Freeman, Ph.D., Asst. Professor of Communication, Georgia State University

Kenneth Shapiro, PhD, ABPP, Executive Director. Animals & Society Institute

Recreational conservation

Lori Marino, Ph.D.

We are currently in the midst of the sixth great mass extinction event in our planet's history. The die-off of species is occurring at 100 to 1000 times the natural background rate and is largely due to human activities. At the current rate 1 in 4 mammal species (and numerous other animal groups) will be gone in thirty years.

The journal Nature recently unveiled its special edition entitled Darwin 200 (November 20, 2008, issue 256) in celebration of Darwin’s 200^th birthday. In this issue Miller et al. report on successful reconstruction of most of the genome sequence of the extinct woolly mammoth (2008, 256, 387-390). The Miller et al finding is being heralded by some as a potential solution to the problem of extinction – resurrecting long-gone groups of animals like the mammoth, the dinosaurs, and orangutans or the myriad of others that are sliding precipitously down the extinction slope. In the same issue, science writer Henry Nicholls considers the scientific complexities of cloning a mammoth in his commentary “Let’s make a mammoth”, asks whether the dream of doing so is now within reach (2008,256, 310-314) and ponders wistfully that “By 2059, who knows what may be returned rebooted to walk the earth?” (2008, 314). And, calling the Miller et al. achievement a “breathtaking” measure of progress, evolutionary anthropologist Michael Hofreiter presages that the next genome to be sequenced will be that of our close relatives, neanderthals (2008, 256, 330 – 331).

The viewpoint expressed by these authors supports the notion that scientific know-how will allow us to skirt the issue of vanishing species under the false confidence that we can bring them back into the world when we deem it worthwhile to do so. This peculiar form of ”conservation” manifests itself in cloning efforts like the one above but also in efforts to collect, preserve and store DNA and viable cells from animals in danger of extinction such as The Frozen Ark Project by the University of Nottingham, Natural History Museum, Zoological Society of London. Moreover, zoos and aquaria have squarely situated themselves in the middle of this effort by branding themselves as bastions of protection and preservation for the animals they hold captive. Through their captive breeding programs they claim to be in the business of safe-keeping those species who are bound for extinction in the natural setting.

How realistic are these efforts? More importantly, what do they tell us about our regard for members of other species and, ultimately, their success? Turning to the practical matter, all life forms, and especially animals, are complex organisms that thrive in a highly intricate dynamic milieu with each other and the planet's ecosystems. Although DNA preserves the genetic template of any given species it does not preserve the way these genetic instructions unfold in the physical, social and psychological context to yield the whole animal in all of its essence. Moreover, it is the disappearance of natural habitats that is the major cause of most of these extinctions. These realities make it highly unlikely that species will be able to be restored in their original form in their natural environment to lead natural lives. Even if some semblance of extinct life forms could be made to survive, there will be no place for them to go. Although this issue is given lip-service, it is taken in stride by cloning enthusiasts.

Beyond these critical pragmatic and scientific issues, I argue that these efforts are representative of a mindset that has contributed greatly to the extinction trend in the first place. I also argue that these kinds of efforts tell us something about the stunning disregard we have for the animals we share the planet with. This dangerous viewpoint is part of a cultural ill I call “recreational conservation”, societal beliefs and practices that superficially resemble genuine conservation efforts but, instead, reflect and promote a demeaning commoditization of other animals for the purposes of our entertainment and edification. Zoos, marine parks, captive breeding programs, frozen DNA banks, and extinct species cloning programs all promote themselves as modern-day Noah’s Arks. But the danger is that these human-created contexts of cement and steel, test tubes, and incubators are all sending the message that natural habitats are irrelevant. And if the animals’ natural context is implicitly presented as unimportant, then these institutions are actually contradicting the message they claim to affirm. Moreover, these types of efforts palliate people's concerns about a vanishing natural world, instead of forcing us to confront the imminent dangers to animals. In this way they create a false sense of security about the survival and welfare of other animals. Hence the notion that species can be reconstituted or “rebooted” sometime in the future. Zoos and marine parks, especially, often explicitly convey to the visitor that by patronizing their facility they are contributing to conservation. Visitors, in turn, are not only entertained but they can leave the zoo with a sense of self-satisfaction that they are “doing their part”. The opportunity loss for real conservation efforts is obvious. Instead of doing the real work of conservation, “recreational conservation” entertains under the guise of education and leads us to look forward to the day when we can be “conservationists” once again by gawking at even more exotic commodities such as the woolly mammoth, tyrannosaurus rex, the saber-toothed tiger, and neanderthals. Recreational conservation ensures failure because it is a continuation of the same mindset that brought other animals to this precipice in the first place. What is needed is the hard work of real conservation – shifting to a non-anthropocentric view that takes seriously the inherent value of the other animals on this planet.

As I read about these touted efforts to bring back extinct species I envision a dystopic future that repeats the ignorance and abuses of the past. In 1902 the Bronx zoo featured an abducted pygmy man, Ota Benga, in the primate display. Mr. Benga eventually committed suicide. In addition to all the other animals trying to eek out a life in confinement, this is a particularly tragic reminder of the sordid past of our institutions of captivity. Now we are closing in on the cusp of further perversions of entertainment – “rebooted” displaced beings, e.g., mammoths and neanderthals, to keep us mired in the diversionary past and ensuring a future wiped bare by entitlement and disregard. But all is not lost. Tickets will be half-price on holidays and children under two are admitted free.