Where the Wild Things Wait: Are Zoos Ever Ethical?

By Charlotte Pointing

As the debate over zoos intensifies, questions of ethics, empathy, and animal agency challenge long-held beliefs about conservation, education, and entertainment.

Human fascination with exotic animals dates back centuries — millennia, even. In ancient Egypt, archeological evidence from the city of Nehken suggests that hippos, baboons, and even elephants were kept in a kind of proto-menagerie. The modern American zoo, however, took shape much later — in the late 1800s, when the Philadelphia Zoo opened its gates. Since then, zoos have evolved into sprawling institutions with conservation missions, education programs, and marketing strategies. According to IBISWorld, there are currently 384 licensed zoos and aquariums in the U.S., though the number climbs into the thousands when unaccredited roadside attractions are included — private menageries dressed up as family fun.

These establishments exist on a spectrum, and so does public opinion. Some see zoos as relics of a more colonial mindset — spaces where the wild is subdued, framed, and ticketed. Others argue that zoos are modern Noah’s Arks, preserving species from the brink of extinction. But the ethical dilemma deepens when considering the animals themselves. Can a life spent on exhibit, however enriched or expertly managed, ever be truly humane?

Are zoos ethical?

Much of the discourse around zoos hinges on a central tension: animals in captivity exhibit behaviors that seem to suggest suffering. Pacing. Head bobbing. Swaying. Licking the same patch of wall over and over. These symptoms of psychological distress are known as zoochosis, and they have long haunted conversations about animal welfare. “Many animals suffer in captivity as zoos can never recreate the complex environment [animals] are adapted to live in,” wrote Frankie Osuch of the U.K.-based Born Free Foundation. Animals, like humans, are shaped by the worlds they inhabit. When that world is a few manicured acres, their behavior may fray in ways that feel impossible to ignore.

In Los Angeles, the future of two aging elephants — Billy and Tina — has become a flashpoint in this ongoing debate. The LA Zoo’s decision to transfer them to the Tulsa Zoo prompted outcry from animal welfare groups, who argued that the elephants deserved retirement in a sanctuary, not relocation to another zoo. The LA Zoo defended the move, citing Tulsa’s newer facilities and the opportunity for socialization with other elephants. Still, critics questioned the transparency of the process and whether, after decades in captivity, a transfer was a mercy or another kind of sentence.

A Los Angeles Superior Court judge denied a last-minute legal attempt to block the move, noting that such decisions ultimately belong to elected officials. But the controversy has lingered, casting a shadow over the city’s reputation and stirring questions that no public statement can fully answer. What, exactly, constitutes ethical care for animals who can never return to the wild?

Enter: The grey area

That question becomes even more complicated when zoos intersect with rescue operations. In 2022, PETA helped close Tri-State Zoological Park, a roadside facility in Maryland that had long been accused of neglect. But the closure presented a practical dilemma: where would the animals go? PETA turned to a handful of carefully vetted institutions, including Oakland Zoo in California, which is accredited by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA).

“We are incredibly grateful to our zoo and sanctuary partners,” said Brittany Peet, the organization’s general counsel for captive animal law enforcement. “If we didn’t have reputable zoos, these animals would have to stay with neglectful owners… where they would be mistreated for years.”

Oakland Zoo is, in many ways, a model of the hybridized future some hope for — an institution that functions both as a public attraction and as a sanctuary. It takes in abused and abandoned animals, provides robust veterinary care, and participates in species-saving breeding programs.

But accreditation is no guarantee of ethical purity. The Cincinnati Zoo, also AZA-certified, has been repeatedly named among the “Worst Zoos for Elephants” by advocacy group In Defense of Animals. Its Elephant Trek, a recently updated exhibit, still allocates just four acres for elephants—enough for a wedding venue perhaps, but hardly an African savanna.

Breeding programs, often presented as conservation efforts, raise their own set of questions. While some species may benefit from captive breeding, critics argue that many such programs simply perpetuate the zoo’s own animal population rather than meaningfully contributing to wild repopulation. As Osuch put it, “We must aspire to protect wild animals where they belong—in the wild.”

The word “sanctuary” has become a kind of aspirational branding for animal venues, but it’s not always indicative of high standards. Some facilities use the term liberally, without accreditation or oversight. The Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries (GFAS) is one of the few organizations that verifies sanctuaries against rigorous standards — ensuring that animals are not bred, sold, or used for profit-driven interaction. If a facility offers tiger selfies or baby sloth petting sessions, it’s almost certainly not a sanctuary in practice, no matter what the sign says.

Still, the desire to experience animals up close is a deeply human one. There is awe in proximity, in the gaze of a gorilla, in the slow blink of an elephant’s eye. And perhaps that’s the greatest ethical challenge of all — navigating the difference between what we want from animals and what they need from us.

So, should you go to a zoo? The answer, if one exists, is found in due diligence. Read reviews. Look up accreditation. Be suspicious of pay-to-play animal encounters. Most importantly, trust your instincts. If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t.

Because somewhere between the petting zoo and the sanctuary is a question we haven’t quite answered: When we gaze into the eyes of another species, do we see entertainment, or responsibility?

Related on Ethos:

• Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus Will Return. The Animals Won’t.
• ‘Mesoscale’ Ocean Sanctuaries May Be the Best Hope for Saving Coral Reefs
• Is Cotton Fabric Sustainable? Turns Out, It’s Complicated
• Fur May Be Out of Style, But Animal Cruelty In Fashion Hasn’t Gone Anywhere
• Human-Wildlife Conflicts Are Rising, and, Spoiler Alert: It’s Because of the Climate Crisis

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This post was previously published on THE-ETHOS.CO and is republished on Medium.

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Photo credit: iStock