So, just came back from Sea World, after showing the kids how exciting it is to keep large mammals in confined spaces.
Now don't think I'm going all PETA on you, because I'm all for exploiting animals as long as the right animals get exploited, to paraphrase Dirty Harry. The fact is though, I kept feeling this lingering sense of guilt that we were watching a bunch of large, and relatively intelligent, mammals being held in what amounts to life imprisonment.
I consoled myself with a couple of thoughts, primarily that for all that squeaking and jumping through hoops, it's foolish of me to so anthropomorphize them that I start worrying about their mental health. They're bright, but are they really all that bright?
Secondly, it was obvious that everyone watching was doing so with a certain sense of awe. I mean, they're Orcas, right? Huge, toothed tubes of muscle the size of small trucks traveling at incredible speed. No other animal comes close to combining those features, unless you hacked the legs off an elephant and fired it out of a cannon. Which, I guess, some people would also pay to see. Anyway, I'm getting off the point. The point is, that all us hairless apes in the audience (and some were rather hairier than others, I have to say,) were there to pay homage, in our way, to the simple beauty of those animals. I bet 90% of the people there would have been delighted to run down and touch one of the Orcas given the chance. (I'd say they'd give their right arm to pet an Orca, but given all those pointy teeth it seems rather an ill-chosen expression.)
But just because we like looking at them, is that enough reason to deprive them of their liberty? These are, after all, animals that travel a lot. The average Orca doesn't swim in circles all day long in the wild unless you tie it to something heavy.
I guess it's the same problem that plagues zoos and circuses and wildlife parks around the world. How do you ultimately justify keeping large animals in small spaces for fun?
Sure, you can trot out arguments about raising awareness of whales, and protecting species. But they weren't conducting an environmental analysis, they were getting the whales and dolphins to go goofy tricks or just generally swim about fast, to music.
I suppose we do worse things to animals in the name of entertainment. Especially some of the smaller mammals.
I guess in the end the kids came away with a sense of 'wow, animals can be really amazing,' and that's no bad thing to have put in your head at an early age.
Hmm. Now if I could convince them that parents are things of wonder and awe too, that would be nice.
Maybe if Mrs. Lictor and I dress up in rubber and start performing to music, that might have the desired effect. And even if not, dressing up in rubber and performing to music really is its own reward.