Saturday, January 29, 2011

Social Animals

England has a long history of a fascination with exotic animals, lions in particular. From the earliest Roman days, animals were brought in for sport. Bear-baiting was an actual thing until the 1830s, and one of the earliest uses of the Tower of London was as a menagerie. (You can still see ravens there- the only ravens in Britain- but more on them later.) The Victorians, in particular, had a fascination with nature. They were in awe of it, and so they would do whatever they could to master it and bend it to their will. Remnants of the Victorian ideals can be found in the London Zoo. The Zoo itself is the oldest scientific zoo in the world and is the intellectual descendant of a tradition going back hundreds of years. The zoo itself was established in 1828 as a collection for scientific study. It opened its doors to the public in 1847 and was seen as one of society's great achievements. However, by today's standards of animal care, bits of it were downright barbaric.

This is not big enough for vultures.
This, for example, is one of the bird cages. A pair of vultures, then several parrots were originally kept in this. Now, this would be a pretty great-sized home for one macaw, I think. But they had this tendency of stuffing their zoos full with as many specimens as possible. After they moved the parrots out, they put in ravens. It was then decided that it was too small to keep any animals in, so now it just sits there, empty. While I do think it might be pretty small for birds- especially flocking social birds like ravens- I think you could fit some fancy squirrels or a sloth in here just fine. What's cruel for one animal is totally fine for another. Take for instance, Three Island Pond, a Victorian pond that several species of ducks and geese call home.
The design's remained unchanged since the Victorians built the thing.
Pretty, yeah? Can you imagine penguins here? Because they kept penguins here once. They thought Penguin=Water creature=Food Pond. 
The Mappin Terraces, home to the world's dumbest emus.
Here we have an example of another totally unsuitable enclosure. These are the pretty famous Mappin Terraces. These went the opposite direction as the Victorian enclosures. Opened in 1931, they were the first time people could see animals in an arctic environment. Home to big cats, mountain goats, and a polar bear, the problem was a matter of space. The cats had too much room and got incredibly violent and territorial. The space wasn't right for them. The bears, though, did quite well once they moved them in. However, there really wasn't any place for the bears to hide or have any privacy. Now wallabies and emus inhabit the space- you can see the roof of the emu hut in the picture. The goat mountains remain empty.
A lot of the old architecture remains empty at the London Zoo. It's a good reminder about how much our ideas about wild animal care have changed over the years. The Victorians thought that they should live much like domestic animals. As time progressed, enclosures got bigger and more functional for the natural activities of the animals.
The old Penguin Pool, now empty.

This penguin pool was once billed as an incredibly considerate habitat. Previously, penguins had been kept like regular waterfowl. Then this was built in the thirties in a really neat art deco style (paint it black and it could have appeared in the animated Batman, I think), and its blend of form and function won it much acclaim. Its white walls mimicked the antarctic conditions of the penguins' homes, and it had two interlocking ramps for sliding. But eventually, people figured out that penguins needed ice, and so the penguins were moved. Because of the way historic buildings are protected in England, things like the penguin pool, the old Elephant House, and the Mappin Terraces can never be torn down. Most of them sit empty, unsuitable for animal occupation and unsafe for visitors. However, some of them have been repurposed quite nicely, or have been adapted for their original use. The Giraffe House still houses giraffes, and the old Reptile House is a lovely aviary. Gone are the cages and small vivariums for what were once deemed sluggish, boring creatures*.

The old Reptile House, c. 1849. Notice how the snake cages are totally too small and exposed to unregulated sunlight. Perhaps more disturbing: Lions were once kept in this building.
Instead, natural environments are recreated in the old Victorian setting. Nature just kind of happens- the birds fly freely, eat when they want, nest where they want- in a safe, sanitized environment. In a way, it's the ideal the Victorian naturalists once wanted.


Would somebody please tell me how this kiwi got up in this tree?

Socorro dove. This is extinct in the wild.




This is sort of where you see the weirdness that is a zoo start to show. This bleeding heart dove probably doesn't know it's in captivity, or if it does, it's certainly not bothered by it. But we do, and there's a reason that we keep it. This little guy is a close relative of the largest pigeon to ever exist, the dodo bird. Dodos were doing just fine, until we managed to drive them into extinction. We did that to passenger pigeons, too, and to thylacines. With the exception of the dodo, all of those animals continued on in zoos until after they were extinct in the wild- we seemed to be keeping them out of a sense of guilt. The Socorro Dove, another animal in this building, is also extinct in the wild. There's about a hundred in captivity. They no longer exist outside of our control. Man's activity has reduced them from a viable species to an oddity- by eliminating their niche and destroying their habitat, we've basically managed to turn them into a species that's completely dependent upon us.

And that's terrifying.

We don't really have a good history, you see, of treating animals fairly. Certainly we're learning and certainly we're making progress. The London Zoo in its collection and in its architecture is hard, concrete proof of that. I want to finish up with one more example of how much we've learned. Ever hear of a Chimpanzees' Tea Party? No? I'm not surprised. We don't do anything like them any more.


This is essentially what primatology was once upon a time in the early bits of the 20th century. Zookeepers actually thought that they could learn aspects of primate behavior from these things.

"It is of psychological interest that almost any young chimpanzee learns table manners in a few days, partly by imitation of his or her fellows and partly by seeming to try to understand what the keeper wishes done. There are individual differences in quickness, as Darwin pointed out in the 'Descent of Man'..."
—The Times, 5 December, 1931

At one point, the Chimpanzees' Tea Party was such an integral part of the public's perception of what chimps were supposed to do, how zoos were supposed to treat them, and how an animal's basic dignity should be sacrificed for the wishes of humanity. As long ago as 1991, people were actually upset over the lack of these spectacles.

"Sir, Having spent a disappointing day last week at London Zoo, we are not at all surprised that attendances are falling and the zoo's closure is planned. A distinct lack of animals, so many empty enclosures and cages, left us with the dismal feeling that we were in a ghost town. ...The fun of the zoo was missing. Signposts indicated animal rides which were deserted. The chimps' tea party has been replaced by a cow-milking demonstration. Educational? Yes. Entertaining? No. We were left with the impression that the zoo is run by a group of stuffy members of the establishment who adhere rigidly to their principles whilst ignoring current trends."
– Letter to The Times, 10 April, 1991

It's kind of saddening to think that we can be so blind to the plight of captive animals that we'd so willingly force them into performing. I think it's much better when zoos take a hands-off approach. No place does this better than the San Diego Wild Animal Park, but really, any zoo worth going to will provide its animals with enrichment activities that don't depend on human interaction.

Here's how gorillas are treated today at the London Zoo.

This is only about a quarter of the gorilla's habitat. They have a huge outdoor space and a lot of private rooms to be out of the public eye.

Mama and baby, next to some of the swinging ropes. Behind the barred off area is where the zookeepers feed them.

One of the teenaged gorilla females swinging on a large rope.

Same teenager clapping whenever any of the visitors pointed at her.
Some people think that we shouldn't keep animals in zoos at all. I don't feel that way. I think that zoos are necessary to raise the public's awareness of nature in general. If they can't see these things, what incentive is there to protect them?

We do need, though, to better learn to tend them and treat them with the care and respect they deserve. We're not there yet, but we've come a long way.
*CLEARLY this is an inaccurate assumption. And not ALL of the keepers must have thought that way. Take for instance this fellow:
Pictured: One nineteenth-century beardie, acting like all beardies do in front of a camera.
I'm pretty sure this is me in a past life.

No comments:

Post a Comment