Did Sydney Really Need Another Zoo?

By Sharaf Fozdar

Last December saw the much anticipated opening (in zoo circles at least) of Sydney Zoo. Sprawling over 41 acres, the zoo boasts an impressive setup with lions, tigers, elephants, chimpanzees and other exotic and native animals spread across a landscape which, according to their website, provides a ‘safari-like experience.’ 

And it needs to be impressive, considering that it’s located in a very zoo-rich city. Taronga Zoo, Wild Life Zoo, Featherdale Wildlife Park and Sea Life Aquarium are all located in Sydney, not to mention the wildlife parks in the surrounding area.

Sydneysiders seem to be a zoo-loving people, with over 20 million of us visiting zoos and aquariums  every year. Given the recent opening, and the fact that zoos often work in partnership with universities (Sydney Zoo works with Western Sydney University, USyd partners with Taronga Zoo), now seems an appropriate time to ask whether we still actually need zoos.

The first thing to know is that zoos have the support of most people who work in conservation and the academic community, and that the conditions in which we keep animals in captivity have improved dramatically over the years. This development can be seen very clearly at Taronga Zoo, where the disused elephant ‘temple’ makes it look like the designers took The Jungle Book as an accurate scientific portrayal of elephants in the wild.

Today, the rationale for zoos is essentially that they allow the public to learn about animals, give scientists the opportunity to study them and play an important role in conservation efforts. On the surface this reasoning makes sense, and is widely accepted.

But that doesn’t mean everyone agrees. 

Soon after Sydney Zoo opened, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) asserted that the animals there would suffer. Their website refers to what they call the ‘conservation con’ of zoos, asserting how important their work is for conserving wildlife whilst, in reality, “animals are almost never released from Australian zoos.” PETA and others have argued that zoos are commercial organisations existing primarily for profit, and don’t really care about conservation.

David Phalen, Associate Professor at the Faculty of Veterinary Science at The University of Sydney, disagrees. He points to Taronga Zoo’s Booroolong Frog, Northern and Southern Corroboree Frog, Lister’s Gecko, and Blue-tailed Skink breeding programs as examples of work which  are essential to the survival of species in the wild. “In order to be members of the Zoo and Aquarium Association zoos have to commit a certain amount of effort to conservation related activities. Many of these are done very quietly and with little public recognition.”

Professor Phalen also points to the support zoos give to research projects and wildlife disease investigation. “These programs cost a lot of money and the zoo’s bottom line would be better if they did not do them.”

It’s certainly true that zoos have always had a commercial side. Why else would Sydney Zoo invest actual money in a giant statue of a (slightly deranged looking) koala for tourists to take pictures with? If zoos are to exist they have to depend on the paying public, and hence put effort and resources into appealing to that public.

PETA also says that zoos are “hardly educational.” This is another common argument, with some claiming that very little actual ‘learning’ takes place and that people go to zoos for entertainment rather than education. 

This argument seems somewhat flawed. Whilst it is true that the two million people who visit Taronga Zoo each year come to be amazed rather than strictly ‘educated’, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Zoos can fire the public’s enthusiasm for animals in a similar way to David Attenborough documentaries. Whilst you may not remember all the facts you learned, you are nonetheless left with a sense of wonder and an awareness of the importance of preserving the wildlife that you saw. Also, a 2014 study in the US found that people who visit zoos have an increased understanding of biodiversity and the actions needed to protect that biodiversity, suggesting zoos do educate even if people don’t visit for that reason.

For me, the animal welfare argument is the most powerful. If you’ve seen Blackfish you’ll be familiar with that icky feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you see orcas at Sea-World, and for some people that feeling extends to any large, intelligent and social animals kept in captivity.

Professor Phalen acknowledges that “keeping animals in captivity always has limits,” but the zoos he is familiar with “go to great extremes to create exhibits that allow the animals as much natural behaviour as possible and the keepers are constantly providing enrichment.” Moreover, the zoos in Australia “are pioneers in developing exhibits that are either free range or as close to free range as possible.”

People nowadays certainly have greater expectations in terms of the welfare and conditions of the animals kept in zoos. We are more likely to question zoo practises and are more uncomfortable when we think animals are being mistreated. This is an important driving force behind zoos improving their enclosures and practises, a process which will hopefully continue.

Zoos justify their existence through their conservation programs and scientific initiatives. But I’m also suspicious that maybe they’re one of those things that people in 100 years will look back and wonder what the hell we were thinking. This will depend on how far we go to ensure that animals in captivity have lives which are at least approximate to what they would experience in the wild. Our perception of zoos will ultimately be shaped by whether we feel the animals are living in acceptable conditions, or not. 

 

Note: I am aware that I’ve talked primarily about Australian zoos, which have a very good reputation for their conservation initiatives and animal welfare, and that not all zoos around the world meet standards which would be acceptable in Australia.

Pulp Editors