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Fear of the Animal Planet: The Hidden History of Animal Resistance
A Siberian tiger at the San Francisco Zoo leaps a 12-foot high wall and mauls three visitors who had been tormenting her, killing one. A circus elephant tramples and gores a sadistic trainer, who had repeatedly fed her lit cigarettes. A pair of orangutans at the San Diego Zoo steal a crowbar and screwdriver and break-out of their enclosure. An orca at Sea World snatches his trainer into the pool and holds her underwater until she drowns. What's going on here? Are these mere accidents? Simply cases of animals acting on instinct? That's what the zoos and animal theme parks would have you believe. But historian Jason Hribal tells a different story. In the most provocative book on animal rights since Peter Singer's Animal Liberation , Hribal argues persuasively that these escapes and attacks are deliberate, that the animals are acting with intent, that they are asserting their own desires for freedom. Fear of the Animal Planet is a harrowing, and curiously uplifting, chronicle of resistance against the captivity and torture of animals.
"Vengeance is mine,” sayeth the captive beast. Prepare to have your illusions of security shattered as Jason Hribal shows us that a revolution is brewing among those frustrated leaping orcas, elephants in headdresses, and tigers kept behind bars. Animal spectacles, shows, and exhibits, it turns out, pose a deep, dark threat not only to nature herself but also to those who impose their will on wild spirits and those who pop in for a few hours to watch. A riveting, eye-opening book." --Ingrid Newkirk, president and co-founder of PETA
Jason Hribal is an historian and educator. He is the contemporary editor of John Oswald’s 1791 classic, The Cry of Nature .
Jeffrey St. Clair is co-editor of CounterPunch and author of Born Under a Bad Sky .
"Vengeance is mine,” sayeth the captive beast. Prepare to have your illusions of security shattered as Jason Hribal shows us that a revolution is brewing among those frustrated leaping orcas, elephants in headdresses, and tigers kept behind bars. Animal spectacles, shows, and exhibits, it turns out, pose a deep, dark threat not only to nature herself but also to those who impose their will on wild spirits and those who pop in for a few hours to watch. A riveting, eye-opening book." --Ingrid Newkirk, president and co-founder of PETA
Jason Hribal is an historian and educator. He is the contemporary editor of John Oswald’s 1791 classic, The Cry of Nature .
Jeffrey St. Clair is co-editor of CounterPunch and author of Born Under a Bad Sky .
280 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2003
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791 people want to read
About the author
Jason Hribal
4 books9 followersJason Hribal is an independent historian, who teaches in the field of adult education. He is the contemporary editor of John Oswald’s 1791 classic, The Cry of Nature: An Appeal to Mercy and to Justice on Behalf of the Persecuted Animals (2000).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 47 reviews
August 1, 2011
On the one hand I liked this book quite a bit.
On the other, I expected/had hoped for more from this after listening to a couple interviews with the author.
Hribal explores captive animals' resistance to their captors and tormentors. He documents how animals can, like people, differentiate between people and shows that wild animals who have had enough don't just kill randomly (even though they could easily do that) but target their prey. Even to someone actively trying to rid herself of speciesism, it's still amazing on one level to read how captive animals can, and will, do this. Hribal delves into the history of the animals, and shows that retaliation is not uncommon (though zoos and circuses would have us believe so).
But after a while it becomes somewhat tedious. It's as if he wants to show all the times he could find that elephants (for example) have been abused and resisted, but unfortunately there is little difference in the way this is done. The stories are horrifying because they showcase how humans abuse and exploit animals as a constant, ongoing source of profit and view animals only as profit-making machines, with total disregard for any familial bonds or suffering these animals endure. And how the zoos, aquariums, etc whitewash everything for the public (which is only too willing to believe those lies).
After reading of a number of incidents about elephant resistance, I wanted something new; one person called it a laundry list of events, and that's what it feels like.
I'd hoped Hribal would document other kinds of animal resistance to captivity and torture - certainly there are plenty of examples of "farm" animals escaping, swimming rivers, jumping fences. From listening to an interview with Hribal, I had also hoped he would explore the way animals have been exploited to build our society - everything from plowing fields to pulling carriages and being caught for food and clothes - and that a case could have been made for this sort of long-term resistance to centuries of exploitation.
While such a lack is disappointing, it might not have been quite so disappointing had the book been edited. Typos by the score were distracting, although the use of "solidarity confinement" for "solitary confinement" was amusing in its way (considering the anarchist publisher).
This is a book that could have been great but only succeeds in being good - though to a lay audience, to people not into animal rights, the editing could suggest that we are not terribly competent.
I'd cautiously recommend this to activists, but can't really recommend it for non-activists. And that's the rub, because even when animals don't consciously resist their tormentors activists already understand that they suffer and don't want this - and non-activists don't.
On the other, I expected/had hoped for more from this after listening to a couple interviews with the author.
Hribal explores captive animals' resistance to their captors and tormentors. He documents how animals can, like people, differentiate between people and shows that wild animals who have had enough don't just kill randomly (even though they could easily do that) but target their prey. Even to someone actively trying to rid herself of speciesism, it's still amazing on one level to read how captive animals can, and will, do this. Hribal delves into the history of the animals, and shows that retaliation is not uncommon (though zoos and circuses would have us believe so).
But after a while it becomes somewhat tedious. It's as if he wants to show all the times he could find that elephants (for example) have been abused and resisted, but unfortunately there is little difference in the way this is done. The stories are horrifying because they showcase how humans abuse and exploit animals as a constant, ongoing source of profit and view animals only as profit-making machines, with total disregard for any familial bonds or suffering these animals endure. And how the zoos, aquariums, etc whitewash everything for the public (which is only too willing to believe those lies).
After reading of a number of incidents about elephant resistance, I wanted something new; one person called it a laundry list of events, and that's what it feels like.
I'd hoped Hribal would document other kinds of animal resistance to captivity and torture - certainly there are plenty of examples of "farm" animals escaping, swimming rivers, jumping fences. From listening to an interview with Hribal, I had also hoped he would explore the way animals have been exploited to build our society - everything from plowing fields to pulling carriages and being caught for food and clothes - and that a case could have been made for this sort of long-term resistance to centuries of exploitation.
While such a lack is disappointing, it might not have been quite so disappointing had the book been edited. Typos by the score were distracting, although the use of "solidarity confinement" for "solitary confinement" was amusing in its way (considering the anarchist publisher).
This is a book that could have been great but only succeeds in being good - though to a lay audience, to people not into animal rights, the editing could suggest that we are not terribly competent.
I'd cautiously recommend this to activists, but can't really recommend it for non-activists. And that's the rub, because even when animals don't consciously resist their tormentors activists already understand that they suffer and don't want this - and non-activists don't.
August 6, 2011
As much as I like stories about elephants trampling sadistic trainers, monkeys and orangutans figuring out how to pick-locks and tigers escaping from zoo enclosures to maul teenagers who taunt them, this book really fails in proving its central thesis. The little stories therein are good, but the book reads more like a collection of newspaper articles about animal attacks and escapes rather than being centered around a well-researched thesis or idea. The author claims that attacks (and escapes) by animals are premeditated acts of resistance. I don't necessarily disagree w/ him that animals think, know, remember and then use that knowledge in violent and crafty ways, it's just that he does a really crappy job of proving that.
The book would get one-star if it wasn't for the fact that I like stories of animal "resistance" and I f'n hate zoos, aqua-parks, circuses and any type of enclosing of animals. There is zero analysis of animal psychology or evidence that he researched in that field at all. This, in my opinion, would clearly be essential if one was trying to prove "premeditation" (rather than instinct) on the part of animals when they try to escape or maul trainers etc. Basically, the book seems thrown together on the cheap. The writing is riddled w/ spelling and grammatical errors (some of them really bad) which undermines the validity of the book. The author thanked some dude for "wading through" various drafts which struck me as bizarre b/c some of the spelling and grammatical errors were atrocious and evident to me on the first read ("solidarity confinement" anyone?). There is even a spelling error on the back-cover. Such blatantly bad editing undermines what the author is trying to prove. Throw in sporadic unnecessary "big words" and I started to get annoyed at times.
Could've been much better.
The book would get one-star if it wasn't for the fact that I like stories of animal "resistance" and I f'n hate zoos, aqua-parks, circuses and any type of enclosing of animals. There is zero analysis of animal psychology or evidence that he researched in that field at all. This, in my opinion, would clearly be essential if one was trying to prove "premeditation" (rather than instinct) on the part of animals when they try to escape or maul trainers etc. Basically, the book seems thrown together on the cheap. The writing is riddled w/ spelling and grammatical errors (some of them really bad) which undermines the validity of the book. The author thanked some dude for "wading through" various drafts which struck me as bizarre b/c some of the spelling and grammatical errors were atrocious and evident to me on the first read ("solidarity confinement" anyone?). There is even a spelling error on the back-cover. Such blatantly bad editing undermines what the author is trying to prove. Throw in sporadic unnecessary "big words" and I started to get annoyed at times.
Could've been much better.
January 19, 2025
Fiery, vital reporting on animal abuses and resistances that I initially bounced off, but came around to in the end. This is a discomforting text, so be prepared. It explores two hundred years of animal captivity and abuse, split into three sections that cover elephants in circuses, primates in zoos and labs, and otariids and cetaceans in aquariums. The first two chapters are quite repetitive, but the book picks up in the last two chapters. I highly recommend skipping ahead when you get sick of the endless precession of elephants being shot, stabbed, starved, and whipped, and their human handlers justifiably being mauled, stomped, thrown, and gored in response. If this sounds too much, give Animal Revolution or An Immense World a read, instead. They're much more optimistic in tone.
Fear of an Animal Planet begins strong. Both the introduction and prologue are fantastic. The introduction explores medieval animal trials. While absurd and obscene by our standards, these trials give glimpses of a different conception of animals, capable of intent and, therefore, responsibility. The prologue dives into the ideological apparatus of animal captivity—how zoos and the like manufacture consent. Captive animals attack their human oppressors, targeting handlers and patrons who have repeatedly abused them. This happens regularly. PR teams omit, minimise, and distort these incidents. It's a form of corporate gaslighting. That whale you saw dragging an animal handler underwater and pinning her to the bottom of a tank until she fell unconscious? That was play. The whale didn't know what it was doing. That tiger who tracked down their animal handler in a zoo filled with other easy to reach targets? It was unpremeditated. They were moody that day. That dolphin that sired multiple children and let them all starve to death while in captivity? It was mentally ill. Depressed. A lost cause. In all these examples, animal intelligence is dismissed or elided. Zoos and the like avoid historicising such attacks, because doing so would point to the immense suffering such captive animals face.
Captive animals come from poaching. Mature animals are too hard to control, so poachers catch infants and children. This involves the murder of their parents. Whales, for the longest time, were lured into nets with bombs dropped into the ocean. They had the choice between an explosive death and slavery. Just the sound alone would have been nightmarish, but coupled to this was the cries of their children. Once captured, such children often die in captivity after a few months, due to malnourishment, chlorination (which damages their skin and eyes), sensory deprivation, and physical violence. Research labs rely on illegal poaching. Primates are supplied through black market transactions. Some of these labs study diseases, and their test subjects have escaped in the past. Only recently has there been a shift to captive breeding, in response to this kind of information leaking out—and due to the rise in poaching prices. Zoos and aquariums have rebranded themselves as conservationist, because the cost of animals such as dolphins and whales has increased ten-fold since the mid-20th century. They can't afford to keep killing their exhibits.
So, this shit is grim. And at times, I was frustrated at how unrelentingly grim it all was. But pushing beyond my disgust, I felt gratitude for Hribal, who had spent years collecting, sorting through, and reporting on this material. Though the balance is off, especially at the start of the book which is grisly without end, there're plenty of amazing stories of animal ingenuity later on—of animals working together in ways that confounded their human handlers.
All the examples of primate resistance are profound. They can pick locks, unscrew nuts, peel the putty from window frames, create ladders out of sticks, and scale walls. Like the students of May 68, they peel tiles from their enclosures to throw at their oppressors. They'll even trick them during escapes. Hribal has one tale of an orangutan who, knowing his handlers were watching him, picked up a crowbar, inspected it, then threw it over his shoulder like he wasn't interested. With their eyes still on him, another orangutan began pulling at the window of their exhibit with the crowbar. In nature, orangutans are solitary creatures, yet, imprisoned, they work together, forming mutual aid relations. That's insane. Another orangutan learnt to ground their electric fence with pieces of wood. They not only have intentions, they can hide their intentions; and their capacity for learning extends from mechanical to electrical engineering. When a captive animal escapes, zoos often do the pleading emoji, saying that the poor animals can't survive on their own. The few times a captive primate has been found again in the wild, they've been healthier than when they were caged.
If you can stomach the contents, and get past the sloppy editing of the first half, this book is well worth a read for those concerned with animal liberation.
Fear of an Animal Planet begins strong. Both the introduction and prologue are fantastic. The introduction explores medieval animal trials. While absurd and obscene by our standards, these trials give glimpses of a different conception of animals, capable of intent and, therefore, responsibility. The prologue dives into the ideological apparatus of animal captivity—how zoos and the like manufacture consent. Captive animals attack their human oppressors, targeting handlers and patrons who have repeatedly abused them. This happens regularly. PR teams omit, minimise, and distort these incidents. It's a form of corporate gaslighting. That whale you saw dragging an animal handler underwater and pinning her to the bottom of a tank until she fell unconscious? That was play. The whale didn't know what it was doing. That tiger who tracked down their animal handler in a zoo filled with other easy to reach targets? It was unpremeditated. They were moody that day. That dolphin that sired multiple children and let them all starve to death while in captivity? It was mentally ill. Depressed. A lost cause. In all these examples, animal intelligence is dismissed or elided. Zoos and the like avoid historicising such attacks, because doing so would point to the immense suffering such captive animals face.
Captive animals come from poaching. Mature animals are too hard to control, so poachers catch infants and children. This involves the murder of their parents. Whales, for the longest time, were lured into nets with bombs dropped into the ocean. They had the choice between an explosive death and slavery. Just the sound alone would have been nightmarish, but coupled to this was the cries of their children. Once captured, such children often die in captivity after a few months, due to malnourishment, chlorination (which damages their skin and eyes), sensory deprivation, and physical violence. Research labs rely on illegal poaching. Primates are supplied through black market transactions. Some of these labs study diseases, and their test subjects have escaped in the past. Only recently has there been a shift to captive breeding, in response to this kind of information leaking out—and due to the rise in poaching prices. Zoos and aquariums have rebranded themselves as conservationist, because the cost of animals such as dolphins and whales has increased ten-fold since the mid-20th century. They can't afford to keep killing their exhibits.
So, this shit is grim. And at times, I was frustrated at how unrelentingly grim it all was. But pushing beyond my disgust, I felt gratitude for Hribal, who had spent years collecting, sorting through, and reporting on this material. Though the balance is off, especially at the start of the book which is grisly without end, there're plenty of amazing stories of animal ingenuity later on—of animals working together in ways that confounded their human handlers.
All the examples of primate resistance are profound. They can pick locks, unscrew nuts, peel the putty from window frames, create ladders out of sticks, and scale walls. Like the students of May 68, they peel tiles from their enclosures to throw at their oppressors. They'll even trick them during escapes. Hribal has one tale of an orangutan who, knowing his handlers were watching him, picked up a crowbar, inspected it, then threw it over his shoulder like he wasn't interested. With their eyes still on him, another orangutan began pulling at the window of their exhibit with the crowbar. In nature, orangutans are solitary creatures, yet, imprisoned, they work together, forming mutual aid relations. That's insane. Another orangutan learnt to ground their electric fence with pieces of wood. They not only have intentions, they can hide their intentions; and their capacity for learning extends from mechanical to electrical engineering. When a captive animal escapes, zoos often do the pleading emoji, saying that the poor animals can't survive on their own. The few times a captive primate has been found again in the wild, they've been healthier than when they were caged.
If you can stomach the contents, and get past the sloppy editing of the first half, this book is well worth a read for those concerned with animal liberation.
October 29, 2012
This is a book about animal resistance, it's about the fact that we aren't attributing human qualities to animals we are claiming only humans have brain processes shared by many animals, I mean it isn't like we are the only ones with frontal lobes.
Animals can learn, animals can manipulate, animals can hate.
this is a book about why we respect animals. Or why I respect animals. It's about how when I say freddie and I had a talk and we came to an agreement, or Freddie is annoyed with me, or Boris is showing freddie turnabout is fair play. I'm not just joking around. I'm not attributing to my rats thoughts and feelings they don't have. I am actually saying that I believe they have thoughts they have feelings and they have meaning beyond simply the fact that they are "stupid animals"
a friend asked me if my rats had "actual personalities" the other day. I said, "that's a stupid question."
that is what this book is really about, the fact that humans want to believe that animals aren't the same as we are.
Animals can learn, animals can manipulate, animals can hate.
this is a book about why we respect animals. Or why I respect animals. It's about how when I say freddie and I had a talk and we came to an agreement, or Freddie is annoyed with me, or Boris is showing freddie turnabout is fair play. I'm not just joking around. I'm not attributing to my rats thoughts and feelings they don't have. I am actually saying that I believe they have thoughts they have feelings and they have meaning beyond simply the fact that they are "stupid animals"
a friend asked me if my rats had "actual personalities" the other day. I said, "that's a stupid question."
that is what this book is really about, the fact that humans want to believe that animals aren't the same as we are.
August 13, 2017
First, who thinks it is in ANY WAY acceptable to write and publish an entire nonfiction book without a single citation? This book is filled with quotes and references, and not a single source is given. There are no notes or even a bibliography at the back. This is unprofessional, makes his arguments look even weaker, and is just plain sloppy. While I knew of most of the instances he mentions in the book, there were a few new ones, along with particular responses and analyses I had not previously heard; unfortunately I cannot readily follow up on any of it because there are no sources. This book fails even as a jump-off resource.
On the issue of the author's actual message, Hribal appears to be completely out of touch with current zoology research, and fails to understand basic principles of biology. As just one example, he dismisses the existence of musth in elephants as a backward bowing to "biological determinism" that we should have long moved past. I suppose humans going through puberty as a result of hormonal changes is also something we should have moved beyond?
Clearly Hribal is writing to an already supportive audience, because he makes no attempt whatsoever to actually present his arguments. He presents a series of events, makes a snarky remark about the blindness of zoo people to the "real" circumstances, and essentially says that the events speak for themselves in support of his message that animals are actively and consciously resisting their captive state. I wanted some kind of analysis, or synthesis, or any ACTUAL ORIGINAL THOUGHT that would give me pause and make me reassess. Instead, he simply ignores the last several decades of research on animal cognition, emotion, and reasoning and proceeds to assume that simply demonstrating that animals are not automata supports his agenda over that of animal keepers and managers. I am so utterly disappointed and disgusted with every aspect of this book.
On the issue of the author's actual message, Hribal appears to be completely out of touch with current zoology research, and fails to understand basic principles of biology. As just one example, he dismisses the existence of musth in elephants as a backward bowing to "biological determinism" that we should have long moved past. I suppose humans going through puberty as a result of hormonal changes is also something we should have moved beyond?
Clearly Hribal is writing to an already supportive audience, because he makes no attempt whatsoever to actually present his arguments. He presents a series of events, makes a snarky remark about the blindness of zoo people to the "real" circumstances, and essentially says that the events speak for themselves in support of his message that animals are actively and consciously resisting their captive state. I wanted some kind of analysis, or synthesis, or any ACTUAL ORIGINAL THOUGHT that would give me pause and make me reassess. Instead, he simply ignores the last several decades of research on animal cognition, emotion, and reasoning and proceeds to assume that simply demonstrating that animals are not automata supports his agenda over that of animal keepers and managers. I am so utterly disappointed and disgusted with every aspect of this book.
August 5, 2011
“Animal Resistance”, at first glance, doesn’t seem to be such a loaded term, especially when talking about wild or feral animals. Anyone who’s been around wild animals knows that they resist capture and captivity. That seems pretty clear when one considers animals caught and used in horrific (or “inhumane”) ways, like bear bile farms, or when one considers how feral cats act when captured for TNR.
However, most of us humans don’t see resistance to captivity in animals in zoos, aquariums or circuses. Maybe that’s because we don’t often look beyond the “humane” facade presented by these organizations, maybe it’s because we assume that since the animals are getting fed regularly and are safe from “cruel” nature (which isn’t so cruel, see Jonathan Balcombe _Pleasurable Kingdom_) they are “happy” (see Kathleen Stachowski article in _Animal Blawg_ on protesting a circus, quoting a woman who just came out of the show and said, to the protestors, that the animals “seemed truly happy”).
But what about humans who work with wild animals, who see them trying to escape or becoming violent with trainers? They may assume a particular animal’s conduct is an “in the moment” reaction to unfamiliarity, trainers, smells, etc. They may attribute even long-term behavioral changes such as depression or the failure to reproduce to factors like wrong diet or lack of ability to engage in “instinctual” activity (which, contrary to popular belief, is not mutually exclusive with cognition. Humans have instincts, for example, see Balcombe, Second Nature). Thus, animal “resistance” to captivity is probably considered something reactive and instinctual.
But Hribal’s thesis is that wild animals resist their captivity with calculation and planning. His book is an attempt to prove this thesis and to argue for a re-thinking of our relationship to the animals we capture and use for entertainment.
First, I have to say that I, personally, am not sure that “thinking” resistance versus reactive resistance is an important distinction when considering human duties towards nonhuman animals. I would argue that even without the ability to calculate and plan resistance, wild animals should not be forced into captivity. For me it’s not a question of how much agency an animal needs before her need to be left alone is taken seriously, it’s a question of giving her the benefit of the doubt. If she’s sentient, chances are she wants to live her life without me forcing her to wear sequined costumes, jump through hoops, or live in a city and climate she is not built for, among creatures she fears. So for me, sentience is enough, she doesn’t have to exhibit a locksmith’s facility with locks or plan for weeks to murder her trainers.
But I’m not the average reader. Hribal’s thesis is important for what it means about animal agency and what that in turn means about humans’ knee-jerk acceptance of using animals as entertainment. Hribal’s thesis is important just because it’s a shocking one for most people: “What? That elephant hates being in the circus? That dolphin isn’t smiling at his trainer?” Hribal’s thesis is even shocking for people who consider themselves humanely inclined, because he focuses on rogue animals, even murderous ones, not on the cute, helpless ones animal welfarist organizations love to describe and photograph. Unlike the stuff put out by these orgs in their appeals for money, Hribal does not present animals as victims, but as complicated beings acting to change their own horrible fates. This idea alone is worth the price of admission, so to speak. Animals are not “one-note” creatures, wow. In addition, Hribal focuses on individual animals, not species. He tells each story using the animal’s name, and personal history. So the way he writes is important for its inherent respect towards the beings he’s writing about.
Because Hribal’s ideas and respect for his subjects are important, and because his thesis does fly in the face of conventional wisdom about captive wild animals, his book needs to be convincing. For me, it ultimately was. However, I’m an easy audience, so he was kind of preaching to the choir. Therefore, I think it’s necessary to point out that the book is flawed, and, in order to reach a wider audience, Hribal should do some tinkering and maybe reissue a second edition.
First, a couple of notes about the content. The book is ordered into four chapters: two concerning elephants, one on primates, and one on sea mammals. Hribal does include some stories about tigers, but the scope of his book is, overall, confined to the three groups mentioned above. (That’s not a flaw, but does makes me think that Hribal was rushing to get the book out. The book does come at you in a sort of breathless rush.) In each chapter, Hribal tells the stories of animals who have resisted their captivity in various ways. There are stories of animals who’ve escaped captivity numerous times and foiled all attempts to build better enclosures for them, stories of those who’ve attacked trainers, (killing some), and stories of those who’ve both escaped and attacked specific spectators who harrassed them. While the particular animal’s resistance in those cases seems fairly obvious, Hribal also discusses cases in which the “resistance” is more veiled, such as certain animals’ failure to reproduce in captivity. In those cases, he ventures into more speculation about the animals’ motivations. I found this a little disconcerting, only because I’m used to reading biologists and cognitive ethologists, who take care to delineate their own speculation from what their research has revealed. Hribal could benefit from taking a slightly less passionate tone here, and at least appearing more clinical, especially with his more radical conclusions.
That said, the book does not pretend to be a scientific work, nor should it be read as such. Most of the material in it is anecdotal, and Hribal does not attempt to back up the anecdotes with biological or ethological studies. Instead, Hribal, as his title makes clear, is writing a “history” of animal acts of resistance. Therefore, readers like me, who expect animal stories to be bolstered with some scientific research, will be disappointed. Unfortunately for Hribal, when it comes to cognition, the human default mindset seems to be to assume that animals are incapable of any, until proven able by huge batteries of human-devised tests. This attitude, screwed up as it is (and as I said, I’m even prone to it), works against Hribal. In any other context, a “history” consisting of news stories and anecdote would likely be given the benefit of the doubt, but not when it comes to stories of animal intelligence and complexity. Hribal could dip into the enormous amount of research into animal intelligence that’s out there, and the huge discoveries being made every day in order to bolster his stories (like Jonathan Balcombe does, for example). That would make his thesis go down easier in some quarters. But I’m not sure he should need to.
Overall, the content of Hribal’s book is good: fascinating stories of what appear to be extraordinary acts of resistance by captive animals, told with respect for the individual animals. Hribal dips into news stores, interviews with trainers, zoo archives, and stories from spectators who witnessed the animals’ acts of resistance, and includes material spanning the 19th and 20th centuries and many countries, as well as recent US history.
There are several flaws in Hribal’s execution of the book. First and foremost, there are typos and grammatical errors. These detract from the overall message, and are easy to find and fix. A good copy editor could work wonders here. It is really important for books that present a radical viewpoint to be as flawless as possible in terms of grammar and spelling. Hribal is just handing opponents free ammo to use against him by not taking more care here.
Second, Hribal needs to include some endnotes. While he notes his sources in a general fashion in the prologue, it would be incredibly helpful to have specific sources cited in the book itself. This is a must in scholarly works, and it’s useful in non-scholarly ones, especially with subject matter that is at all controversial. Hribal needs to make it easy for people to take his subject seriously, so he needs to supply citations. Otherwise, his book looks too much like fiction. End notes have the added value of not interrupting the flow of the book. Citations would make it much harder to discount the stories Hribal is telling, and enable readers, like me, who are interested in the subject, to do our own research more easily.
Third, the way Hribal organizes his book is strange, almost stream of consciousness. He’ll tell one particular story of resistance, and suddenly segue into another story before he’s finished the first story. He seems to organize stories around what particular form the resistance took, but this isn’t ever made clear, and the way he jumps between anecdotes gives the book a rough draft quality. Because it is a short book and the chapters are short, this isn’t a big problem in terms of ease of comprehension, but I wanted this book to have the kind of clarity and beauty that the subject deserves, and it did not. Organizing the material better would help with that. To be fair to Hribal, as I alluded to above, I think his passion for the subject comes through more than any attempt at elegance. That’s not a bad thing if you’re (again) preaching to the choir, but he needs to think about how to make it come through a lot better for tougher audiences. Although the stories are fascinating and important ones to tell, Hribal’s sort of rushed, lumped together style lessens their impact.
In conclusion, although I personally enjoyed this book, I think Hribal could do better. If he chose to redo it, I’d suggest getting the grammar, spelling and syntax as clean and clear as possible first. Then work on the organization and backing the material up with citations. I’d love to see the stories in this book become as powerful as they should be.
However, most of us humans don’t see resistance to captivity in animals in zoos, aquariums or circuses. Maybe that’s because we don’t often look beyond the “humane” facade presented by these organizations, maybe it’s because we assume that since the animals are getting fed regularly and are safe from “cruel” nature (which isn’t so cruel, see Jonathan Balcombe _Pleasurable Kingdom_) they are “happy” (see Kathleen Stachowski article in _Animal Blawg_ on protesting a circus, quoting a woman who just came out of the show and said, to the protestors, that the animals “seemed truly happy”).
But what about humans who work with wild animals, who see them trying to escape or becoming violent with trainers? They may assume a particular animal’s conduct is an “in the moment” reaction to unfamiliarity, trainers, smells, etc. They may attribute even long-term behavioral changes such as depression or the failure to reproduce to factors like wrong diet or lack of ability to engage in “instinctual” activity (which, contrary to popular belief, is not mutually exclusive with cognition. Humans have instincts, for example, see Balcombe, Second Nature). Thus, animal “resistance” to captivity is probably considered something reactive and instinctual.
But Hribal’s thesis is that wild animals resist their captivity with calculation and planning. His book is an attempt to prove this thesis and to argue for a re-thinking of our relationship to the animals we capture and use for entertainment.
First, I have to say that I, personally, am not sure that “thinking” resistance versus reactive resistance is an important distinction when considering human duties towards nonhuman animals. I would argue that even without the ability to calculate and plan resistance, wild animals should not be forced into captivity. For me it’s not a question of how much agency an animal needs before her need to be left alone is taken seriously, it’s a question of giving her the benefit of the doubt. If she’s sentient, chances are she wants to live her life without me forcing her to wear sequined costumes, jump through hoops, or live in a city and climate she is not built for, among creatures she fears. So for me, sentience is enough, she doesn’t have to exhibit a locksmith’s facility with locks or plan for weeks to murder her trainers.
But I’m not the average reader. Hribal’s thesis is important for what it means about animal agency and what that in turn means about humans’ knee-jerk acceptance of using animals as entertainment. Hribal’s thesis is important just because it’s a shocking one for most people: “What? That elephant hates being in the circus? That dolphin isn’t smiling at his trainer?” Hribal’s thesis is even shocking for people who consider themselves humanely inclined, because he focuses on rogue animals, even murderous ones, not on the cute, helpless ones animal welfarist organizations love to describe and photograph. Unlike the stuff put out by these orgs in their appeals for money, Hribal does not present animals as victims, but as complicated beings acting to change their own horrible fates. This idea alone is worth the price of admission, so to speak. Animals are not “one-note” creatures, wow. In addition, Hribal focuses on individual animals, not species. He tells each story using the animal’s name, and personal history. So the way he writes is important for its inherent respect towards the beings he’s writing about.
Because Hribal’s ideas and respect for his subjects are important, and because his thesis does fly in the face of conventional wisdom about captive wild animals, his book needs to be convincing. For me, it ultimately was. However, I’m an easy audience, so he was kind of preaching to the choir. Therefore, I think it’s necessary to point out that the book is flawed, and, in order to reach a wider audience, Hribal should do some tinkering and maybe reissue a second edition.
First, a couple of notes about the content. The book is ordered into four chapters: two concerning elephants, one on primates, and one on sea mammals. Hribal does include some stories about tigers, but the scope of his book is, overall, confined to the three groups mentioned above. (That’s not a flaw, but does makes me think that Hribal was rushing to get the book out. The book does come at you in a sort of breathless rush.) In each chapter, Hribal tells the stories of animals who have resisted their captivity in various ways. There are stories of animals who’ve escaped captivity numerous times and foiled all attempts to build better enclosures for them, stories of those who’ve attacked trainers, (killing some), and stories of those who’ve both escaped and attacked specific spectators who harrassed them. While the particular animal’s resistance in those cases seems fairly obvious, Hribal also discusses cases in which the “resistance” is more veiled, such as certain animals’ failure to reproduce in captivity. In those cases, he ventures into more speculation about the animals’ motivations. I found this a little disconcerting, only because I’m used to reading biologists and cognitive ethologists, who take care to delineate their own speculation from what their research has revealed. Hribal could benefit from taking a slightly less passionate tone here, and at least appearing more clinical, especially with his more radical conclusions.
That said, the book does not pretend to be a scientific work, nor should it be read as such. Most of the material in it is anecdotal, and Hribal does not attempt to back up the anecdotes with biological or ethological studies. Instead, Hribal, as his title makes clear, is writing a “history” of animal acts of resistance. Therefore, readers like me, who expect animal stories to be bolstered with some scientific research, will be disappointed. Unfortunately for Hribal, when it comes to cognition, the human default mindset seems to be to assume that animals are incapable of any, until proven able by huge batteries of human-devised tests. This attitude, screwed up as it is (and as I said, I’m even prone to it), works against Hribal. In any other context, a “history” consisting of news stories and anecdote would likely be given the benefit of the doubt, but not when it comes to stories of animal intelligence and complexity. Hribal could dip into the enormous amount of research into animal intelligence that’s out there, and the huge discoveries being made every day in order to bolster his stories (like Jonathan Balcombe does, for example). That would make his thesis go down easier in some quarters. But I’m not sure he should need to.
Overall, the content of Hribal’s book is good: fascinating stories of what appear to be extraordinary acts of resistance by captive animals, told with respect for the individual animals. Hribal dips into news stores, interviews with trainers, zoo archives, and stories from spectators who witnessed the animals’ acts of resistance, and includes material spanning the 19th and 20th centuries and many countries, as well as recent US history.
There are several flaws in Hribal’s execution of the book. First and foremost, there are typos and grammatical errors. These detract from the overall message, and are easy to find and fix. A good copy editor could work wonders here. It is really important for books that present a radical viewpoint to be as flawless as possible in terms of grammar and spelling. Hribal is just handing opponents free ammo to use against him by not taking more care here.
Second, Hribal needs to include some endnotes. While he notes his sources in a general fashion in the prologue, it would be incredibly helpful to have specific sources cited in the book itself. This is a must in scholarly works, and it’s useful in non-scholarly ones, especially with subject matter that is at all controversial. Hribal needs to make it easy for people to take his subject seriously, so he needs to supply citations. Otherwise, his book looks too much like fiction. End notes have the added value of not interrupting the flow of the book. Citations would make it much harder to discount the stories Hribal is telling, and enable readers, like me, who are interested in the subject, to do our own research more easily.
Third, the way Hribal organizes his book is strange, almost stream of consciousness. He’ll tell one particular story of resistance, and suddenly segue into another story before he’s finished the first story. He seems to organize stories around what particular form the resistance took, but this isn’t ever made clear, and the way he jumps between anecdotes gives the book a rough draft quality. Because it is a short book and the chapters are short, this isn’t a big problem in terms of ease of comprehension, but I wanted this book to have the kind of clarity and beauty that the subject deserves, and it did not. Organizing the material better would help with that. To be fair to Hribal, as I alluded to above, I think his passion for the subject comes through more than any attempt at elegance. That’s not a bad thing if you’re (again) preaching to the choir, but he needs to think about how to make it come through a lot better for tougher audiences. Although the stories are fascinating and important ones to tell, Hribal’s sort of rushed, lumped together style lessens their impact.
In conclusion, although I personally enjoyed this book, I think Hribal could do better. If he chose to redo it, I’d suggest getting the grammar, spelling and syntax as clean and clear as possible first. Then work on the organization and backing the material up with citations. I’d love to see the stories in this book become as powerful as they should be.
Read
March 30, 2020A must read for sure! Especially to those how still belive that animals are just little more than machines.
April 16, 2023
Un libro potenzialmente molto interessante, ma con una serie di problemi non indifferenti, in particolare
1) la disorganizzazione nel racconto delle storie di resistenza animale
2) la mancanza quasi totale di una riflessione a riguardo: vengono solo elencati dei fatti, ma non c'è una vera e propria analisi approfondita, come mi sarei aspettata.
Getta comunque luce su fatti sicuramente poco noti ed evidenzia in modo inequivocabile la soggettività e l'intenzione che sta dietro a gesti di animali passati come incidenti casuali
1) la disorganizzazione nel racconto delle storie di resistenza animale
2) la mancanza quasi totale di una riflessione a riguardo: vengono solo elencati dei fatti, ma non c'è una vera e propria analisi approfondita, come mi sarei aspettata.
Getta comunque luce su fatti sicuramente poco noti ed evidenzia in modo inequivocabile la soggettività e l'intenzione che sta dietro a gesti di animali passati come incidenti casuali
July 3, 2011
This is not so much a great book as a well-researched dossier of incidents of elephants, primates, whales, etc escaping from captivity in zoos and circuses and/or attacking their trainers and captors. Hribal's prose just doesn't do it for me, even if his thesis does. The author was a student of Peter Linebaugh, whose work is a big influence on mine currently - and I greatly appreciate the underlying themes, namely that we should see these attacks and escapes as calculated revolts against captivity and enslavement rather than aberrations or trivial, curious mishaps.
In the epilogue, Hribal encapsulates much of the book: (after a paragraph addressing why zoos never release recalcitrant animals and rarely fund sanctuaries for animals that don't handle zoo life in accordance with their captors' aims) The zoo industry is full of such contradictions. It helps people learn about the importance of animals, but not what is vitally important to the animals themselves. Sea animals, elephants, and primates (etc) are capable of such amazing feats, but they are incapable of demonstrating their intentions and making their own choices. The industry encourages you to think that these animals are intelligent, but not intelligent enough to have the ability to resist. The industry encourages you to care about them, so that you and your children will return for a visit. But it does not want you to care so much that you might develop empathy and begin to question whether these animals actually want to be there.
The intro includes a kind of muddled attack on the term "anthropomorphism" that set me off a bit. The author's idea, as I understand it, is that anthropomorphism is a pejorative term used for those who would ascribe culture and determination to animals, and that the idea itself is old hat. I think the problem is that the term is unfortunate when used to mean that, in animal cultures, we see only reflections of our own human culture, rather than understanding that animals have their own culture which does not necessarily mirror our own or even fit definitions in which we could find ease of comparison to our own. I actually do think the term (and practice) is problematic, and I would have liked to read more exploration of this idea in this book, but there's just a rather flippant dismissal on the front end and not much else - the book delves into instances of attack/escape and doesn't spend as much time analyzing the paradigm shift that Hribal is certainly spending a lot of time thinking about and calling for (which is, I think, sound).
Told through meandering anecdotes of animal escapes, the writing is unfortunately pretty lacking and the grammatical mistakes are rampant, too. As a Pittsburgh resident, I found it humorous that the city's name comes up often either with or without the "h", which is a common mistake - however the oversight and inconsistency with which this occurs, sometimes within the same page, is illustrative of a larger lack of cursory editing throughout.
Despite it's faults, it's a quick read and a good reference, useful for pursuing further info on the incidents the author includes. Plenty of admirable digging for buried stories in here.
In the epilogue, Hribal encapsulates much of the book: (after a paragraph addressing why zoos never release recalcitrant animals and rarely fund sanctuaries for animals that don't handle zoo life in accordance with their captors' aims) The zoo industry is full of such contradictions. It helps people learn about the importance of animals, but not what is vitally important to the animals themselves. Sea animals, elephants, and primates (etc) are capable of such amazing feats, but they are incapable of demonstrating their intentions and making their own choices. The industry encourages you to think that these animals are intelligent, but not intelligent enough to have the ability to resist. The industry encourages you to care about them, so that you and your children will return for a visit. But it does not want you to care so much that you might develop empathy and begin to question whether these animals actually want to be there.
The intro includes a kind of muddled attack on the term "anthropomorphism" that set me off a bit. The author's idea, as I understand it, is that anthropomorphism is a pejorative term used for those who would ascribe culture and determination to animals, and that the idea itself is old hat. I think the problem is that the term is unfortunate when used to mean that, in animal cultures, we see only reflections of our own human culture, rather than understanding that animals have their own culture which does not necessarily mirror our own or even fit definitions in which we could find ease of comparison to our own. I actually do think the term (and practice) is problematic, and I would have liked to read more exploration of this idea in this book, but there's just a rather flippant dismissal on the front end and not much else - the book delves into instances of attack/escape and doesn't spend as much time analyzing the paradigm shift that Hribal is certainly spending a lot of time thinking about and calling for (which is, I think, sound).
Told through meandering anecdotes of animal escapes, the writing is unfortunately pretty lacking and the grammatical mistakes are rampant, too. As a Pittsburgh resident, I found it humorous that the city's name comes up often either with or without the "h", which is a common mistake - however the oversight and inconsistency with which this occurs, sometimes within the same page, is illustrative of a larger lack of cursory editing throughout.
Despite it's faults, it's a quick read and a good reference, useful for pursuing further info on the incidents the author includes. Plenty of admirable digging for buried stories in here.
November 1, 2011
This book deals with the rather thorny issue of animals escaping enclosures and attacking, primarily their captors. So it’s fair to say there was a little controversy surrounding the publication of this book. There are a string of articles about in Hribal’s name, which try to argue animals are part of the working class. This book is simply the logic of his intellectual trajectory.
I have read comments that have tried to argue this book presents a good case against the captivity of animals in zoos, circuses and theme parks, but that’s simply not the premise of the book! Hribal centrally believes, animals “have a conception of freedom and a desire for it. They have agency.” (pg 26) He goes on further on the agency theme claiming, “not only did the animals have a history, they were making history. For their history led directly to historical change.” (pg 29-30)
So let’s be frank, when an elephant escapes a performing circus, seeks out and tramples its sadistic trainer; when a monkey repeatedly escapes its zoo, leading to redesign after redesign of the enclosure; when a captive orca attacks her trainer mid-performance in SeaWorld and when a tiger escapes and mauls children tormenting her – this is a political struggle, as defined by Hribal.
It’s simply difficult to know how to assess this. Animal captivity speaks to me about our alienation from ourselves and nature, and the ability of capital to commodify it back to us, and also about anthropocentrism. Leave it to no doubt, I think zoos et al are pretty repugnant, in the same manner I do opulent shopping centres and tedious call centres. I just don’t see the political links the author is trying to make. Either way, what I believe or what I don’t believe, the onus of Hribal proving his thesis simply falls flat.
The book essentially is a compiled list of testimonies of various animals contesting their captivity, so he never really moves beyond empirical research. Most of the stories are just conveyed in his rather loaded narrative. So there is virtually no discussion about psychology, socio-biology, consciousness or philosophy nor does he develop on anything put out by animal rights gurus like Best and Singer. The book feels like its asking for a radical leap of faith based on a string of observations.
What’s worse is there feels to be a rather odious whiff of misanthropy about the book. Even if you accept that animal handlers, trainers, and even vets are part of the apparatus, why are animals attacking random people? Were affectively told in one incident this is reasonable because “teasing is endemic…[and p]ellet guns seem to be a particular favourite weapon among visitors.” (pg 106-07)
The book is poorly argued, one of the few books I recall where the prologue carries more weight than the rest of the book and is littered with spelling mistakes. I simply can’t fathom what made AK Press print this.
I have read comments that have tried to argue this book presents a good case against the captivity of animals in zoos, circuses and theme parks, but that’s simply not the premise of the book! Hribal centrally believes, animals “have a conception of freedom and a desire for it. They have agency.” (pg 26) He goes on further on the agency theme claiming, “not only did the animals have a history, they were making history. For their history led directly to historical change.” (pg 29-30)
So let’s be frank, when an elephant escapes a performing circus, seeks out and tramples its sadistic trainer; when a monkey repeatedly escapes its zoo, leading to redesign after redesign of the enclosure; when a captive orca attacks her trainer mid-performance in SeaWorld and when a tiger escapes and mauls children tormenting her – this is a political struggle, as defined by Hribal.
It’s simply difficult to know how to assess this. Animal captivity speaks to me about our alienation from ourselves and nature, and the ability of capital to commodify it back to us, and also about anthropocentrism. Leave it to no doubt, I think zoos et al are pretty repugnant, in the same manner I do opulent shopping centres and tedious call centres. I just don’t see the political links the author is trying to make. Either way, what I believe or what I don’t believe, the onus of Hribal proving his thesis simply falls flat.
The book essentially is a compiled list of testimonies of various animals contesting their captivity, so he never really moves beyond empirical research. Most of the stories are just conveyed in his rather loaded narrative. So there is virtually no discussion about psychology, socio-biology, consciousness or philosophy nor does he develop on anything put out by animal rights gurus like Best and Singer. The book feels like its asking for a radical leap of faith based on a string of observations.
What’s worse is there feels to be a rather odious whiff of misanthropy about the book. Even if you accept that animal handlers, trainers, and even vets are part of the apparatus, why are animals attacking random people? Were affectively told in one incident this is reasonable because “teasing is endemic…[and p]ellet guns seem to be a particular favourite weapon among visitors.” (pg 106-07)
The book is poorly argued, one of the few books I recall where the prologue carries more weight than the rest of the book and is littered with spelling mistakes. I simply can’t fathom what made AK Press print this.
April 14, 2015
Although I and many others may not agree with the author's premise based upon the arguments of animal rights activists (ARAs) that animals do not belong in captivity, it is always helpful to read their arguments in order to understand them and be capable of preparing cogent arguments to rebut them. For these reasons I read this book, with which I continue to vehemently disagree after finishing it. I found that it is a one-note, tone deaf diatribe against holding animals in captivity which contends that all captive animals are slaves who are resistant to the conditions in which they are held, and in some instances raise up against those conditions by escaping from their enclosures and/or causing injury or death to their caretakers, trainers or handlers who the author views as imprisoning and mistreating them. The author supports his arguments by drawing upon literature and news reports chronicling animal escapes from zoos and circuses, and keepers who were alcoholics and/or mistreated the animals in their care. He fails to present a full picture of the events he chronicles since he dismisses out-of-hand investigations by experts employed by AZA and by industry and academia (I suspect he would discard any findings by Temple Grandin among others based upon his writings). He also totally fails to discuss modern exhibitory and enrichment and other practices designed to improve the environment in which captive animals are housed or breeding and reintroduction of animals to the wild.
The book is given one star rather than zero stars to acknowledge that it is written in proper English, which unfortunately many books are not.
The book is given one star rather than zero stars to acknowledge that it is written in proper English, which unfortunately many books are not.
July 31, 2012
This book is an easy, riveting read, as well as the best case for ending animal captivity (particularly "wild" animals in circuses, zoos, and other forms of human entertainment) that I've ever seen. Its only flaw is that the introduction (by another writer), while certainly fascinating and educational on its own, seems very disjointed from the rest of the book, and even contradicts the text of the book at times. Bottom line is, READ THIS, especially if you've wondered why animals don't stand up for themselves.
December 31, 2014
What "Blackfish" was to Orcas, this book is for rest of animal kingdom in captivity.
You know the resisting animals will always meet a horrible death, but their resistance is still compelling and heroic. An eye opener!
(Editing could have been better, though)
You know the resisting animals will always meet a horrible death, but their resistance is still compelling and heroic. An eye opener!
(Editing could have been better, though)
June 16, 2024
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN CAPTIVE ANIMALS NO LONGER “TAKE IT”?
In the introductory essay to this 2010 book, Jeffrey St. Clair wrote, “In [this book], historian Jason Hribal takes a radical, but logical, step beyond [Peter] Singer. Hribal reverses the perspective and tells the story of liberation from the animals’ points-of-view. This is history written from the end of the chain, from inside the cage, from the depths of the tank. Hribal’s chilling investigation travels much further than Singer dared to go. For Hribal, the issue isn’t merely harm and pain, but consent. The confined animals haven’t given their permission to be held captive, forced to work, fondled or publicly displayed for profit. Hribal skillfully excavates the hidden history of captive animals as active agents in their own liberation. His book is a harrowing, and curiously uplifting, chronicle of resistance against some of the cruelest forms of torture and oppression this side of the Abu Ghraib prison. Hribal takes us behind the scenes of the circus and the animal park, exposing methods of training involving sadistic forms of discipline and punishment, where elephants and chimps are routinely beaten and terrorized into submission…” (Pg. 15)
He continues, “All of this id big business, naturally. Each performing dolphin can generate more than a million dollars in revenue, while orcas can produce twenty times as much. This is a history of violent resistance to such abuses. Here are stories of escapes, subterfuges, work stoppage, gorings, rampages, bitings, and yes, revenge killings. Each trampling of a brutal handler with a bull-hook, each mauling of a taunting visitor, each drowning of a tormenting trainer is a crack in the old order that treats animals as property, as engines of profit, as mindless objects of exploitation and abuse. The animal rebels are making their own history and Json Hribal serves as their Michelet.” (Pg. 16)
Author Jason Hribal wrote, “A note on the book’s primary and secondary sources. The vast majority of information came directly from newspapers, both national and international. Federal, state and local government documents filled in some important details. Lawsuits and their trails supplied a scant more. On-line databases were rich with biographical detail… A handful of contemporary books were also helpful…” (Pg. 30)
He details abuses and the animals’ responses, in chapters such as ‘Elephants Exit the Big Top,’ ‘Pachyderms Prefer to Forget About the Zoo,’ ‘Monkeys Gone Wild,’ and ‘Slippery When Wet: Sea Mammals Dream of Freedom.’
He concludes, “The zoo industry… helps people learn about the importance of animals, but not what is vitally important to the animals themselves. Sea mammals, elephants, and primates are capable of so many amazing feats, but they are incapable of demonstrating their intentions and making their own choices. The industry encourages you to think that these animals are intelligent, but not intelligent enough to have the ability to resist. The industry encourages you to care about them, so that you and your children will return for a visit. But it does not want you to care so much that you might develop empathy and begin to question whether these animals actually want to be there… There is a long history to this struggle, which stretches back centuries. Zoos and circuses live in feat of it and the historical changes that it can bring. We, however, do not have to be afraid. Instead, we can recognize this struggle, learn from it, and choose a side.” (Pg. 152-153
This book will be “must reading” for seriously committed Animals Welfare/Rights persons.
In the introductory essay to this 2010 book, Jeffrey St. Clair wrote, “In [this book], historian Jason Hribal takes a radical, but logical, step beyond [Peter] Singer. Hribal reverses the perspective and tells the story of liberation from the animals’ points-of-view. This is history written from the end of the chain, from inside the cage, from the depths of the tank. Hribal’s chilling investigation travels much further than Singer dared to go. For Hribal, the issue isn’t merely harm and pain, but consent. The confined animals haven’t given their permission to be held captive, forced to work, fondled or publicly displayed for profit. Hribal skillfully excavates the hidden history of captive animals as active agents in their own liberation. His book is a harrowing, and curiously uplifting, chronicle of resistance against some of the cruelest forms of torture and oppression this side of the Abu Ghraib prison. Hribal takes us behind the scenes of the circus and the animal park, exposing methods of training involving sadistic forms of discipline and punishment, where elephants and chimps are routinely beaten and terrorized into submission…” (Pg. 15)
He continues, “All of this id big business, naturally. Each performing dolphin can generate more than a million dollars in revenue, while orcas can produce twenty times as much. This is a history of violent resistance to such abuses. Here are stories of escapes, subterfuges, work stoppage, gorings, rampages, bitings, and yes, revenge killings. Each trampling of a brutal handler with a bull-hook, each mauling of a taunting visitor, each drowning of a tormenting trainer is a crack in the old order that treats animals as property, as engines of profit, as mindless objects of exploitation and abuse. The animal rebels are making their own history and Json Hribal serves as their Michelet.” (Pg. 16)
Author Jason Hribal wrote, “A note on the book’s primary and secondary sources. The vast majority of information came directly from newspapers, both national and international. Federal, state and local government documents filled in some important details. Lawsuits and their trails supplied a scant more. On-line databases were rich with biographical detail… A handful of contemporary books were also helpful…” (Pg. 30)
He details abuses and the animals’ responses, in chapters such as ‘Elephants Exit the Big Top,’ ‘Pachyderms Prefer to Forget About the Zoo,’ ‘Monkeys Gone Wild,’ and ‘Slippery When Wet: Sea Mammals Dream of Freedom.’
He concludes, “The zoo industry… helps people learn about the importance of animals, but not what is vitally important to the animals themselves. Sea mammals, elephants, and primates are capable of so many amazing feats, but they are incapable of demonstrating their intentions and making their own choices. The industry encourages you to think that these animals are intelligent, but not intelligent enough to have the ability to resist. The industry encourages you to care about them, so that you and your children will return for a visit. But it does not want you to care so much that you might develop empathy and begin to question whether these animals actually want to be there… There is a long history to this struggle, which stretches back centuries. Zoos and circuses live in feat of it and the historical changes that it can bring. We, however, do not have to be afraid. Instead, we can recognize this struggle, learn from it, and choose a side.” (Pg. 152-153
This book will be “must reading” for seriously committed Animals Welfare/Rights persons.
November 27, 2019
este ha sido un libro piola. ordenado y claro.
Hribal expone cómo se han explotado los animales como bienes y como mano de obra, desde el siglo XVII. La lana de las ovejas, las carne de las vacas, los huevos de las gallinas, la fuerza de los caballos.
Más curiosamente aún, cómo se condicionaron y manipularon razas específicas para su mayor eficiencia, así como que la gallina más ponedora es de España, y el caballo más fuerte Irlandés si no mal recuerdo, en fin, datos curiosos.
Dos partes que destaco mucho son, 1 la evolución del término ''meat'', que en un principio no denotaba carne animal, sino simplemente a una comida o parte de comida (asi existian green-meats, comidas de vegetales; white-meats, comidas con leche, etc), ese termino sustituyó a ''flesh'', porque a la gente le daba asco, ya que flesh se refiere a la carne viva, a la carne fresca.
2, los testimonios de los mismos explotadores, que daban cuenta de la ''resistencia'' de los animales, sorprendentemente semejante a la humana: ''siempre había una parte del rebaño muy revoltosa, que no había cercado lo suficientemente fuerte como para resistir si tenían la idea de atraversarlo. Más aún, si estas huían todo el rebaño manso las seguía''.
Algunos granjeros incluso cortaban algunos tendones de las patas de sus trabajadoras, otros recortaban las alas de pollos, pavos y gansos para evitar que volasen, incluso cegaban a los animales utilizando una aguja de tejer ardiente.
Todo esto, que suena terrible, se asemeja tanto a la situación que vive Chile actualmente.
Ojala la gente se de cuenta algún día lo parecida que es la clase trabajadora con los animales que ellos mismos explotan, cosa que advirtió Joseph Proudhon y con esto termino:
'' el caballo, que tira de nuestros carruajes y el buey que tira de nuestros carros producen con nosotros, pero no están asociados con nosotros; cogemos su producto pero no lo compartimos con ellos. Los animales y trabajadores a quienes empleamos mantienen la misma relación con nosotros.''
Basicamente tratamos a los animales del mismo modo que la clase alta trata a la clase obrera.
Hribal expone cómo se han explotado los animales como bienes y como mano de obra, desde el siglo XVII. La lana de las ovejas, las carne de las vacas, los huevos de las gallinas, la fuerza de los caballos.
Más curiosamente aún, cómo se condicionaron y manipularon razas específicas para su mayor eficiencia, así como que la gallina más ponedora es de España, y el caballo más fuerte Irlandés si no mal recuerdo, en fin, datos curiosos.
Dos partes que destaco mucho son, 1 la evolución del término ''meat'', que en un principio no denotaba carne animal, sino simplemente a una comida o parte de comida (asi existian green-meats, comidas de vegetales; white-meats, comidas con leche, etc), ese termino sustituyó a ''flesh'', porque a la gente le daba asco, ya que flesh se refiere a la carne viva, a la carne fresca.
2, los testimonios de los mismos explotadores, que daban cuenta de la ''resistencia'' de los animales, sorprendentemente semejante a la humana: ''siempre había una parte del rebaño muy revoltosa, que no había cercado lo suficientemente fuerte como para resistir si tenían la idea de atraversarlo. Más aún, si estas huían todo el rebaño manso las seguía''.
Algunos granjeros incluso cortaban algunos tendones de las patas de sus trabajadoras, otros recortaban las alas de pollos, pavos y gansos para evitar que volasen, incluso cegaban a los animales utilizando una aguja de tejer ardiente.
Todo esto, que suena terrible, se asemeja tanto a la situación que vive Chile actualmente.
Ojala la gente se de cuenta algún día lo parecida que es la clase trabajadora con los animales que ellos mismos explotan, cosa que advirtió Joseph Proudhon y con esto termino:
'' el caballo, que tira de nuestros carruajes y el buey que tira de nuestros carros producen con nosotros, pero no están asociados con nosotros; cogemos su producto pero no lo compartimos con ellos. Los animales y trabajadores a quienes empleamos mantienen la misma relación con nosotros.''
Basicamente tratamos a los animales del mismo modo que la clase alta trata a la clase obrera.
November 18, 2020
I've been really excited about this book for years. I just love stories of animals fighting back, escaping and revenging on the humans who hurt them and would be nice to see it all come together with some sort of thought and theory around it. Now when I finally got around to reading it I was very disappointed. There was of course loads of stories of animals fighting back, but it seemed like they shyed away from saying anything other than just stapling all of these stories on top of each other in a hard-to-read way. Uf it wasn't for me enjoying the actual events that were written about it would've been one star as it was not very well-written at all. I would also have liked it to not only have zoo and circus animals (there were some lab animals) but stories about farm animals but it seemed like they wanted to keep those animal exploitations separate from each other.
Also really weird to mention Peter Singers essay "Heavy Petting" in the introduction. "maybe animals DO want to have sex with humans it's not animal abuse" together with "animals have agency and have always resisted"
Really wanted more from this. I hope in the future the book I thought it would be would be written.
Also really weird to mention Peter Singers essay "Heavy Petting" in the introduction. "maybe animals DO want to have sex with humans it's not animal abuse" together with "animals have agency and have always resisted"
Really wanted more from this. I hope in the future the book I thought it would be would be written.
November 4, 2020
Glad he did the research to outline centuries of animals resisting captivity in various forms: circuses, zoos, aquariums, the movie and TV industry, medical research. Resistance comes in the form of work stoppages, escapes, attacks and killings, and I believe it's clear these are deliberate and yes premeditated acts. They take cunning, patience, learning, tenacity.
Interesting information but ultimately not a great book. I don't fault it for failing to wade into the complex fields of animal cognition or psychology, or into for example farm animal resistance - those are worthy but huge topics. They are certainly related but you can only go so deep in one book.
Instead, I think it needed serious editing. A central thesis that is brought up continually and reinforced - the big takeaway. Not to mention the grammar and spelling errors; I'm very surprised and disappointed AK Press published it like that. I thought it was just my copy until I read other reviews on here...
Interesting information but ultimately not a great book. I don't fault it for failing to wade into the complex fields of animal cognition or psychology, or into for example farm animal resistance - those are worthy but huge topics. They are certainly related but you can only go so deep in one book.
Instead, I think it needed serious editing. A central thesis that is brought up continually and reinforced - the big takeaway. Not to mention the grammar and spelling errors; I'm very surprised and disappointed AK Press published it like that. I thought it was just my copy until I read other reviews on here...
November 2, 2017
Although I found the individual stories interesting, the lack of citations in the book made me question whether what I was reading was factual or not. I also understand that while the author tries to use an overwhelming number of stories to support his thesis, it becomes redundant after a while. A short book such as this shouldn't feel tiresome to read, and after a while, this definitely did. I love animals, and think they are smart as well as emotionally cognizant enough to resist captivity, labor, and abuse. That being said, I don't buy that all of the cases listed in this book are necessarily that. Lastly, I found the author's two different spellings of Pittsburgh really REALLY aggravating. It happened throughout the entire book, not just once or twice, so it was possible to ignore.
December 18, 2020
Fear of the Animal Planet is an interesting look at animal attacks on humans. The author argues that many of these attacks should be construed as resistance against mistreatment. The book makes some interesting points, but at times seems to ignore the fact that human beings are being injured / killed, as in the case of Tillikum killing his trainer, Dawn Brancheau. The most interesting part of the book is its introduction, which looks at the history of human responses to animal attacks.
May 25, 2022
More a list of anecdots of big mammals' resistance to US circus and zoos than a theory of non-human animal resistance to speciesism. But the collection of evidences of resistance make an inspiring point for non-human struggles against captivity and how their agency influences it.
December 21, 2017
Great book, I hope it helps more people see that animals do resist.
June 23, 2019
Great book but there are not sources cited.
March 3, 2023
Mi aspettavo di più però utilissimo
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August 7, 2024this is a great collection of stories of animal resistance - elephants, monkeys, orcas - an it is great to have it , but I was hoping for more of s theoretical treatment of animal resistance.
December 27, 2024
Interesting subject matter but repetitive writing.
May 4, 2025
Both repetitive and all over the place. I hoped for so much more from this book.
July 2, 2025
So poorly proofread and edited that it is an embarrassment for both author and publisher
August 12, 2025
Original y provocativo el mix de marxismo y antiespecismo y con datos y partes interesantes pero muy disperso
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April 13, 2016Excellent for what it is, but I'd hoped for more. Jeffrey St. Clair's thought-provoking and evocative introduction is worth the price of the book. Hribal's analysis of acts like escape or attacks as resistance is spot on, and he offers many, many case examples of escapes from , aquariums, zoos, labs, and circuses along with a few examples of attacks on handlers and other tormentors at those same sites.
What more did I wish for? Since the title references the animal "planet," I'd hoped for examples from around the world as well as examples of different kinds of resistance, such as elephants trampling test fields of GM crops, baboons using direct action against habitat-destroying development, and monkeys ransacking government offices. I'd been collecting, and sometimes writing about, such incidents for years before this book came out and so, when it came out, I thought "Great! An actual historian has been collecting these too. Can't wait to see more examples, along with an analysis."
But that's just me and was maybe an exaggerated expectation. Again, in terms of demonstrating that particular acts of escape and attack here in the United States definitely have been purposeful and therefore can be rightly read as resistance, this book does what it set out to do.
What more did I wish for? Since the title references the animal "planet," I'd hoped for examples from around the world as well as examples of different kinds of resistance, such as elephants trampling test fields of GM crops, baboons using direct action against habitat-destroying development, and monkeys ransacking government offices. I'd been collecting, and sometimes writing about, such incidents for years before this book came out and so, when it came out, I thought "Great! An actual historian has been collecting these too. Can't wait to see more examples, along with an analysis."
But that's just me and was maybe an exaggerated expectation. Again, in terms of demonstrating that particular acts of escape and attack here in the United States definitely have been purposeful and therefore can be rightly read as resistance, this book does what it set out to do.
November 7, 2011
A notable effort to write a "from below" history of zoos and aquariums by a student of prominent radical social historian Peter Linebaugh. One disappointment is that despite Linebaugh's profound work on transcending racial divisions in trans-Atlantic resistance movements, this book suffers from the standard animal rights appropriation of the African-American liberation struggle, without supporting or engaging with that struggle in any substantive way. Counterpunch co-editor and the book's co-publisher Jeffrey St. Clair calls Tilikum, a Sea World orca who deliberately drown his trainer, "the Nat Turner of the captives of Sea World," (18) while Hribal characterizes a sea mammal escaping into the Great Lakes as a recapitulation of the underground railroad. This rhetoric comes off as trivializing of anti-slavery slavery rebels, and misses a chance to connect the colonialism that destroyed and enslaved indigenous peoples the world over with the same forces' deadening containment through cataloging of non-human species. Still, the assertion that violent animal resistance to their confinement has a measurable effect on their conditions of confinement is well-taken.
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