Evaluating Cetacean Sanctuaries

Ethical concerns about cetaceans in captivity, highlighted by documentaries like The Cove and Blackfish, have led to calls to keep whales, dolphins, and porpoises in seaside sanctuaries instead of aquarium pools. The Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries (GFAS) defines these sanctuaries as a sea pen-style habitat in naturalistic conditions, allowing for breeding control and limited public access. This article examines whether seaside sanctuaries can genuinely improve welfare or face challenges that may harm animal well-being.

The author reviews existing research and case studies on cetacean sanctuaries and captive care. They compare sanctuary standards, especially those set by the GFAS, with those of traditional zoos and aquariums. They also look at past examples of moving cetaceans to new environments and suggest experimental approaches to assess the animal welfare impacts of seaside sanctuaries.

More Space And Less Human Interaction

The author describes previous attempts to move cetaceans to larger facilities or release them into the ocean. They note that animals have often struggled, exhibiting appetite and weight loss, failure to thrive, and begging behaviors towards humans. Cases like Keiko the orca illustrate that cetaceans raised in captivity may not readily adopt wild behaviors and may seek out humans.

The author argues against assuming that recreating natural habitats benefits these animals, as the risks of environmental conditions and hazards, food scarcity, and disease that come with the wild are often overlooked. They also caution against underestimating the potential human-cetacean bond that forms in captivity, particularly for animals who have been in human care for a long time.

Breeding Control

To control breeding in cetaceans, sanctuaries can use hormonal birth control or sex segregation, but both options raise welfare concerns. Hormonal methods like altrenogest and deslorelin have potential side effects, including mood changes and health risks, with little information available about the impacts of long-term use. For example, it’s advised that animals given altrenogest be weighed regularly (for accurate dosing) and medically monitored, while deslorelin implants carry infection risks. These concerns, however, are not covered in the GFAS standards.

Long-term sex segregation also impacts cetacean well-being by limiting natural social behaviors. The author asserts that there’s a welfare cost to preventing cetaceans from breeding and raising young that sanctuaries need to consider.

Sustainability

Cetacean sanctuaries are costly to maintain — potentially tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars a month, with expenses rising the more isolated the facility. Most sanctuaries depend heavily on donations, which can be unpredictable and took a hit during the COVID-19 pandemic. For the author, this reliance on public funding raises questions about how sustainable these sanctuaries are, especially as they may end up competing for limited donations, possibly diverting funds from wild conservation efforts. Zoos and aquariums, in contrast, tend to have multiple income sources.

Moreover, unlike zoos and aquariums, sanctuaries face unique challenges if they can no longer operate, with few options for relocating their animals. These financial challenges highlight the difficulties of supporting these facilities long-term.

The Term “Sanctuary”

According to the author, the public sees sanctuaries as simple, ideal solutions for animals in captivity, but this messaging can be misleading. For instance, words like “freedom” give the impression of a true wild release when sanctuaries are, in fact, a controlled form of captivity. The author argues that the term “sanctuary” can create a false sense of moral resolution, causing the public to believe justice for the animals has been fully achieved without further scrutiny.

Recommendations

Based on their critiques, the author recommends a way forward for cetacean sanctuaries:

• Ensure that standards are built on scientific data, not assumptions about what might work best. Where data is missing, prioritize gathering it through research and experimentation before developing new standards.
• Perform habitat preference tests in facilities that offer a mix of environments (e.g., pools and sea pens) to determine how cetaceans prioritize these spaces.
• Analyze data from existing zoo and aquarium records to understand how cetaceans adapt after being transferred between environments like pools, sea pens, and lagoons.
• Research the impact of sounds made by sanctuary animals on wild cetaceans, including how they respond to human-made noises, to ensure that sanctuary activities don’t harm the natural environment. Likewise, habituate animals destined for sanctuaries to unfamiliar sounds they might hear in the wild.
• Evaluate habitat use and how human presence positively or negatively affects welfare in different environments like pools, sea pens, and lagoons to understand the trade-offs between habitat size and human interaction.
• Recognize that habitat size alone doesn’t ensure good welfare. Focus on animal management, such as rotating enrichment activities, reuniting social groups, and providing social housing to improve animal behavior and well-being.

This article raises a number of concerns about cetacean sanctuaries that animal advocates may want to take into consideration. Establishing standards for seaside sanctuaries requires further research to understand how factors such as space, breeding bans, and reduced human interaction impact animal welfare. Without sufficient evidence, the author asserts, promoting these practices as ideal risks undermining both cetacean welfare and the credibility of the sanctuary movement.

For animal advocates interested in a different perspective on cetacean sanctuaries, below is a response to Dr. Jason Bruck’s (the original author’s) critiques from Dr. Lori Marino, a neuroscientist and founder of the Whale Sanctuary Project:

1. Bruck argues against assuming that recreating natural habitats benefits these animals, as the risks of environmental conditions and hazards, food scarcity, and disease that come with the wild are often overlooked. This point is irrelevant to the issue of sanctuaries. Permitted cetacean sanctuaries are created in healthy environments with no hazards and the animals are fed.
2. The original article discusses concerns over hormonal birth control, which Bruck states are not covered in the GFAS standards. Authentic cetacean sanctuaries will have a full-service veterinary staff that will manage and monitor all health and medication issues of the sanctuary residents, including those associated with birth control, if used. The GFAS accreditation standards comprises an entire section on veterinary care. And while altrenogest or deslorelin are not specifically mentioned, it is stated that: “a) Contraception programs are appropriate for the species and as determined by a veterinarian and b) If contraception is used for any of the animals, the most effective and minimally invasive methods should be prioritized and best practices should be followed for application (as determined by the veterinary and animal care team).”
3. Bruck also asserts that there’s a welfare cost to preventing cetaceans from breeding and raising young that sanctuaries need to consider. There may be a welfare cost to preventing breeding, but there is an equal or potentially worse cost to forcing pregnancies through artificial insemination methods commonly used in marine parks and aquariums. There are also costs to mothers who give birth in artificial, impoverished environments like tanks in which she must sometimes contend with aggression from other tankmates.
4. The assertion is made that most sanctuaries depend heavily on donations, which can be unpredictable and took a hit during the COVID-19 pandemic. But this statement ignores the fact that during COVID-19, zoos and marine parks also took a big hit. Their reliance upon gate receipts was a significant portion of this loss.
5. Other concerns voiced in the Bruck paper are that reliance on public funding raises questions about how sustainable these sanctuaries are, especially as they may end up competing for limited donations, possibly diverting funds from wild conservation efforts. This is a baseless assertion. Moreover, one could equally argue that the revenue spent on housing animals in marine parks and zoos could better be spent on direct conservation and protection efforts.
6. The original article also argues that unlike zoos and aquariums, sanctuaries face unique challenges if they can no longer operate, with few options for relocating their animals. These challenges are not unique to sanctuaries. If a marine park or zoo closes or if legislation requires they give up displaying cetaceans, then “they are in the same boat” and are faced with the same problems associated with the relocation of animals. This has happened and is happening across the world. For example, the Vancouver Aquarium had to relocate their cetaceans after the passing of Bill S203 in Canada; Marineland Antibes after a decree to end cetacean captivity in France is faced with sending the two remaining orcas to a substandard facility in Spain; the Bruges’ dolphinarium of Boudewijn Seapark will be faced with relocating dolphins to another site by 2037; and on and on.
7. Bruck argues that the term ‘sanctuary’ can create a false sense of moral resolution, causing the public to believe justice for the animals has been fully achieved without further scrutiny. No sanctuary efforts claim to achieve full justice. But they are an attempt to do better. What Bruck is actually worried about is that this language suggests, correctly, that the animals need rescuing from zoos and entertainment parks and it therefore makes them look bad.
8. The original article recommends that standards be built on scientific data, not assumptions about what might work best, and where data is missing, to prioritize gathering it through research and experimentation before developing new standards. The standards are built on data known to date. If Bruck wants more data, then that can only come from creating sanctuaries.
9. Bruck recommends performing habitat preference tests in facilities that offer a mix of environments (e.g., pools and sea pens) to determine how cetaceans prioritize these spaces. Studies to date suggest dolphins prefer sea pens and closed off areas in the ocean.
10. It’s also suggested that data from existing zoo and aquarium records be analyzed to understand how cetaceans adapt after being transferred between environments like pools, sea pens, and lagoons. If the zoo and aquarium industry were more forthcoming and collaborative, we could do more of that. The captivity industry transfers animals in and out of facilities as a matter of practice and could be helpful in supplying scientific data to sanctuaries.
11. Bruck calls for research into the impact of sounds made by sanctuary animals on wild cetaceans, including how they respond to human-made noises, to ensure that sanctuary activities don’t harm the natural environment. He also suggests habituating animals destined for sanctuaries to unfamiliar sounds they might hear in the wild. This — and much more — is all done as part of the permitting process.
12. Bruck argues that habitat size alone doesn’t ensure good welfare, and recommends focusing on animal management, such as rotating enrichment activities, reuniting social groups, and providing social housing to improve animal behavior and well-being. We already know that habitat size is not the only factor that impacts well-being. A natural ocean environment provides so much more than just space. It provides complexity, challenge, and change. This is a straw-man argument.