Ambassador, Not Lesser Animal

It will surprise no one in the field of zoology that best practice policy changes with time, and it will probably surprise even fewer that this change looks dramatically different depending on which kinds of animal you work with. Larger, more charismatic species – in particular mammals – have ushered an influx of new observations on welfare, habitat design, diet, and training at a rate that has not been witnessed in other taxa. It is for this reason that cetacean keepers have led the field for decades in terms of behavior and training, from Karen Pryor to Ken Ramirez. It is the reason that the majority of multi-million dollar habitat expansions in this century have been for pachyderms and primates. While less publicly-favored taxa are inevitably catching up to the standards we create for our most popular, there remains one zoological departmental niche that seems to have been left behind, perhaps because it is not taxa-specific at all – and that is the ambassador animal department. 

When I was trained as an ambassador animal keeper, I was told that due to the nature of the demands on our animals – we gave them a special, private behind the scenes, or back of house, holding area where they could detox from the general public after being handled, touched, or displayed. While this was perhaps a well-intentioned move for better welfare, the results created enclosures that were often deemed “not suitable for photography”. This was in no way due to actual safety or welfare concerns for the animal, but simply due to aesthetics. The majority of ambassador behind-the-scenes space includes relatively inexpensive caging options from floor-to-ceiling (to maximize space). Reptiles may be kept in enclosures similar to companion pets in someone’s home. To reiterate an important point – study after study has shown that animals typically display no preference to habitat or enrichment between naturalistic and artificial designs, as long as it’s equally spacious and enriching. This has led facilities to choose to save the millions of dollars it takes to install waterfalls, shotcrete, live plants, and most importantly aesthetic barriers, and opt for more simple caging options.

While the current state of most ambassador spaces in the zoological field is explainable and even justifiable. This mentality has led to an unfortunate stagnation in the creative and progressive welfare ideas that our industry has become known for. In the same building, a reptile may have a bioactive, diverse rainforest on display, and a plastic rack with astroturf and a plastic igloo in the back room. No one with any decent experience could claim with certainty that a snake prefers a log hide to a plastic igloo, as many of us are aware just how strange animals can be in their choices – but the problem is not the lack of naturalism – it is the lack of diversity that worries me. We have taken for granted that we can create ambassador spaces, or back of house spaces, on cheaper budgets with an acceptable outcome, and in that – we may have accidentally created a scapegoat preventing the scale of innovation other departments have felt.

There is perhaps no better example of this than the parrot – a species prevalent across nearly all ambassador departments at zoos and aquariums around the world. In no way would I argue that an ambassador parrot at a world-renowned, accredited zoo is receiving poor welfare, but when you compare the efforts we make to create ambassador habitats versus the same species of parrot that is being displayed to the public, it is painfully clear that we are failing these animals in the scope of our commitment. Ambassador animals also deserve to feel grass, to bathe in natural sunlight, to fly freely, and to dig in the earth. My hope is that as animal welfare standards progress, we can shed the notion that ambassador animals have a different standard necessary for their habitats – and that we are able to look at what the best we can do for an animal is regardless of the department it is in. 

Many would argue that the reason we keep ambassador parrots in standard companion cages and not large aviaries is because they would never choose to participate in programs. As we develop better public animal programs with an emphasis on giving the animals choice and control to participate, I hope that we begin to realize just how archaic that thought is. Not every animal is suitable to be an ambassador animal, and that rarity is what makes ambassadorship so special. There is no debating that ambassador animals are a necessary connection in order to inspire people to care about these animals, and we have been operating with a particular set of means to justify the ends of this inspiration, but we simply don’t need to compromise. There are plenty of incredible facilities that offer their birds enriching, holistic, and dynamic environments while also recalling them to go to public programs. It’s happening as we speak, eliminating any notion that the idea is impossible. We can achieve both, we should achieve both, and if the field continues to move forward in the way I dream – we will achieve both.