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Saturday, January 13, 2024

Beyond Barriers

It's occurred to me in the past (most recently during the aforementioned penguin photo-op at Tanganyika) that a zoo barrier has two jobs.  One is to keep animals in.  One is to keep visitors out.  A barrier can do it's job 99% of the time without any problems.  The other 1% can be problematic, though.

For the first job, a barrier may work to keep animals of a given species in most of the time, but there are always exceptions.  Some individuals of a species may be just different enough - strong enough to break a fence, small enough to slip through a gap, tall enough to clamber over a wall - than their fellows.  Some individuals may also be more inclined, for one reason or another, to try, while others will not.  Likewise, just as a person might suddenly find themselves fueled with adrenaline in an emergency and capable of performing feats that they otherwise couldn't, like lifting a car off of a trapped person, so can an animal with extraordinary motivation do what we previously considered impossible (or at least unlikely).  I kept kangaroos for years in a paddock with a fence that held them no problem - but one day we were catching them up, and one of them came pretty darn close to clearing the fence when we had it cornered.

For the second job, most visitors will respect the barrier and stay on their side, but there are always people who won't.  Sometimes it's a careless mistake, like leaning too far over, or trying to climb up for a better view.  Sometimes it's mischievous or malicious intent.  The later is much harder to guard against.

The first role of the barrier - keeping animals in - is self-evidently important.  I always find myself exasperated by the second role of keeping visitors out.  I'd love to have a zoo with minimal barriers, allowing the greatest possible access to the animals.  I recently visited a private bird collection, where the owners allowed us to wander in and out of their aviaries, photographing birds from inches away (and sometimes less), with basically no supervision.  They trusted us to not behave in a way that would stress or harm the birds, and to show good sense around the animals (i.e., if we noticed that birds were acting stressed, to quietly leave and give them their space).  They knew that we could be trusted to use the disinfectant footbaths that they set out, and to close the doors securely behind us when we left.

I would love to give every visitor that freedom to explore an animal facility and have as much access as possible to the animals (without the expensive, time-consuming need for heavy supervision from staff).  That would require trust, as well as confidence that they would behave in an appropriate manner.  I really do believe that 90% of the public would be fine, and that of the remaining 10%, at least half of them would be folks erring out of ignorance, not malice.  That other 5% though, can really ruin everything.

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