Humanity has had an enduring desire for close contact with exotic animals―from the Egyptian kings who kept thousands of animals, including monkeys, wild cats, hyenas, giraffes, and oryx, to the enormously popular zoological parks of today. This book, the most extensive history of zoos yet published, is a fascinating look at the origins, evolution, and―most importantly―the future of zoos.
David Hancocks, an architect and zoo director for thirty years, is passionately opposed to the poor standards that have prevailed and still exist in many zoos. He reviews the history of zoos in light of their failures and successes and points the way toward a more humane approach, one that will benefit both the animals and the humans who visit them. This book, replete with illustrations and full of moving stories about wild animals in captivity, shows that we have only just begun to realize zoos' enormous potential for good.
Hancocks singles out and discusses the better zoos, exploring such places as the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, the Bronx Zoo with its dedication to worldwide conservation programs, Emmen Zoo in Holland with its astonishingly diverse education programs, Wildscreen in England, and Seattle's Woodland Park Zoo, where the concept of "landscape immersion"―exhibits that surround people and animals in carefully replicated natural habitats―was pioneered.
Calling for us to reinvent zoos, Hancocks advocates the creation of a new type of one that reveals the interconnections among all living things and celebrates their beauty, inspires us to develop greater compassion for wild animals great and small, and elicits our support for preserving their wild habitats.
This is probably the most well-written call for change in the zoo world I have read. The book, in many ways, would read as a perfect follow-up to Vicki Croke's "The Modern Ark", and the fact that I read it first gave me a bizarre sensation of reading a series out of order when reading Croke's book.
Hancocks rolls up his sleeves and dives head-long into the philosophy and ethics of zoos and their mission. He has no problem attacking the big names and finding oft-overlooked major flaws with San Diego, Bronx, and Disney (while still pointing out where they truly are great). He has his pet-favorite zoo (the Arizona Sonora Desert Mueseum) as all authors do, but I accept it in this case because the institution genuinely embodies Hancocks' personal philosophy of zoos. His message is basically that zoos need to drop the pretense that breeding charismatic megafauna in artificial conditions is going to save the planet, and start focusing on genuine in situ conservation projects and focus on ecosystems and biodiversity as a whole. He cites numerous places where this has been implemented, to one degree or another. There is little discussion of successful these programs are (since they are so new, it is difficult to gauge), but they offer a strong argument for shift in zoo missions. I would love to see some kind of update or follow-up, now that it is 10 years later.
I was initially frustrated to see how much of the book was (yet another) history of zoos. However, he presents a history which includes numerous details I haven't seen covered in other such books, including the enormous menagerie of Montezuma and such little details as the French king who slaughtered his menagerie after dreaming that the animals were going to kill him.
The author said the same thing over and over, zoos are there to educate and encourage good stewardship of the land and its creatures. At times I was confused by his attitude toward zoos that tried to entertain. If people aren’t entertained they won’t come and you lose your opportunity to educate. His attitude toward Disney was particularly confusing. Is it the best zoological exhibit ever or it is just a very elaborate ride? He made me want to visit Animal Kingdom. He had some good points. I wish the pictures had been color.
Despite polarized public opinions about zoos, it cannot be denied that they offer access to wildlife that might not be otherwise available. Certainly, municipal zoos are an integral--and leveling--public informational resource in socioeconomically stratified urban landscapes. But this has not always been the case.
In "A Different Nature," Hancocks writes a compelling treatise on the historical inefficacy of zoos--as an institution--to care for, promote respect of, and conserve wildlife within and without the physical perimeters of the zoo.
For those who study or work at zoos, the discussions of zoo failures are old-hat. That is not to say that the institution as a whole has not made significant progress in promoting conservation and advancing animal husbandry standards, especially in the last 30 years. However, as Hancocks adequately illustrates, some zoos have done much better than others in moving beyond antiquated methods of display, care, and education.
Still, there is a long way to go before zoos can truly be deserving of the title "conservation centers." Any cursory peek through the Zoochat forums, for example, will reveal the failure of zoo guests to fully capture and internalize messages of wildlife conservation and environmental stewardship based on scientific approaches. Further, many zoo guests come away with the false conclusion that zoos have historically (and currently) done much more for preserving species than is the actual case.
Overall, does an excellent job in framing the argument that zoos (and natural history museums, for that matter) must move beyond the ethos of "edu-tainment" and spectacle that has come to define the institution. Hancocks writes with a flourish and poignancy that prompts a deeper consideration of the role zoos have (and should) take in society.
My complaint, however, is that the chronology can be a little jumbled in the survey of zoo history. Hancocks seems to jump around between time periods to try to emphasize his point, and this can be a little misleading. Further, some of his examples provide only a simplistic illustration of more complex and nuanced ideas (i.e. his treatment of the "pretty and cute" animals on display at the Oasis in DIsney's Animal Kingdom). However, this book serves as an overall excellent introduction to the layman about zoo culture and makes an great reference for the academic reader.
A profound book and a recommended reading for all those who light-heartedly stroll the paths of zoos hoping to strengthen their long-lost bond with nature. Without falling into the trap of being too critical of zoos, the author presents a history of man's obsession with collecting wildlife up to the present days, along with insightful analyses of how certain zoos exemplify our distorted views of Nature. The epilogue is so well-written that I have decided to photocopy the pages and keep them for future thoughts on human-nature relations. I also strongly agree with the author's conclusions that zoos should shift their attention to in-situ conservation, i.e. protecting local ecosystems rather than pursuing their current obsession with charismatic vertebrates dispatched from across the ocean. Zoos, like Natural History Museums, can have a future, if and only if, scientific rigour, respect for their visitors and a renewed awe at the beauty of each living creature and his/her natural needs are taken into account.
This is perhaps the best book on the philosophy of zoos I've read to date. Hancocks explores why we keep animals in zoos, and how the way people treat animals reflects on the values of their society. He also expostulates on the flip side of that coin, how people see captive animals affects their opinions and moral stances. This is a book I plan to reread, highlight, mark up, and tote around with me.