Blackfish: Animal Amusement Parks Do More Abusing than Amusing
Amusement or Abuse-ment Park? Though I am late to the party, here are musings on the abuse of marine animals for our entertainment and the truth about SeaWorld.
Animals have been domesticated by humans since the beginning of time — people kept household pets (like cats in Ancient Egypt) for companionship and raised livestock for commercial and agricultural purposes. The keeping of livestock is one of the earliest forms of animal captivity, given that the animals would have been under human care and control since birth. This type of captivity was and is for agricultural purposes, but captivity has evolved into an entirely different entity today — entertainment.
Now, we see endangered species at the zoo, take trips to SeaWorld to watch the circus-style Shamu orca whale show, and even swim with dolphins and stingrays at Discovery Cove (a sister park of SeaWorld) in Orlando, Florida. The previously mentioned sites share one thing in common — the keeping of wild animals in captivity. Not only do these sites hold animals in a captive environment, but they also monetize this. These establishments, especially those that use captive animals as entertainment (like SeaWorld), exploit animals for profit. Despite this, some of us still view zoos, aquariums, and animal theme parks as innocent places; we are told they are a way for us to educate ourselves about (possibly endangered) animals or get a chance to see a species we otherwise may not see outside of a zoo.
When a father is buying a ticket for his family to see a Shamu show, he probably does not analyze SeaWorld’s questionable practices in-depth before purchasing the tickets. However, there have been documentaries like Blackfish and statements from animal rights activists that ask us to do exactly that — to think about the dark side of animal captivity before planning a trip to SeaWorld or similar establishments that monetize animal captivity.
There are several types of sites that hold animals in captivity, including zoos, aquariums, petting zoos, and animal theme parks — all popular forms of family entertainment. Also, events like the circus and bullfighting are prime examples of captive animals being used for entertainment, but we would rather enjoy the lively dynamics of circuses and bull fights than think about things from the perspective of the animals. We are typically exposed to these places as children, given that when we were younger, many of our parents took us to a circus, petting zoo, or theme park like SeaWorld or Disney’s Animal Kingdom — places where we could become fascinated by exotic animals or see the most powerful predators of the sea put on a thrilling show.
Establishments like SeaWorld and Animal Kingdom pride themselves on the “uniqueness” of their parks and the belief that their visitors are experiencing animals in a way they never have before. SeaWorld, especially, manages to transform animal captivity into a spectacle of freedom — killer whales flying in and out of seemingly large tanks with uplifting New Age sounds playing in the background — that is “managed and protected by corporate benevolence.” The SeaWorld corporation knows that its audience consists mainly of families, so the park is largely an assemblage of the things that families enjoy seeing on television and in other popular media — a “corporate version of the suburban idyll.” These parks not only lure visitors by claiming that their animals are “free”, but also claim that animals live longer in captivity and that parks and zoos are fundamental to conservation of species and educating the public.
When I was younger, I experienced both SeaWorld and its sister park Discovery Cove, and vividly remember the staff and trainers at both parks saying that captive animals’ life spans are equivalent to or greater than those of animals living in the wild —this is not true, but is what the corporations spoon-feed their staff to say regardless. In terms of conservation, some places do rescue animals and work to save endangered species, but most animals in zoos, aquariums and parks were taken from the wild or bred in captivity.
Yes, zoos, aquariums, and animal theme parks all keep animals in captivity for the purpose of entertaining visitors. However, there is one establishment that — in my eyes — best embodies everything that is wrong with both animal captivity and the use of animals for entertainment. That place is SeaWorld.
The SeaWorld park is a perfect lens through which we can look into captivity and its issues. The park has come under fire in the past few years, due in large part to the 2013 documentary Blackfish, which exposed problems in the aquatic theme park industry through the story of Tilikum (an orca infamous for killing trainer Dawn Brancheau) and the accounts of ex-SeaWorld trainers like John Hargrove. The catalyst for Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s creation of this documentary, according to an interview at Sundance Film Festival, was the lack of safety measures that SeaWorld puts in place for its trainers and the fact that the corporation claimed trainer Dawn’s death was due to her ponytail “provoking” the killer whale. SeaWorld refused to do any interviews for the film, which caused further suspicions about their questionable practices.
The park claims that they promote a healthy social structure for the whales, but this statement does not make much sense considering that whales are cramped together in small tanks, which makes them stressed and anxious and leads to an array of other problems. We usually do not think about these issues, because, in Shamu shows, the park tries to erase even the slightest hints of captivity. In reality, the whales are constantly living in distress and behave in ways that resemble psychosis.
Ex-SeaWorld trainer John Hargrove, in his book, Beneath the Surface: Killer Whales, SeaWorld, and the Truth Beyond Blackfish, equates orca whales being held in captivity to the “greatest predators of the sea being reduced to prisoners.” He goes on to talk about the odd behavior that the whales displayed during his time at SeaWorld — they would peel paint off pool walls with their teeth to occupy and stimulate their intelligent minds and one whale even “went at the wall paint with such vigor that she bloodied and bruised her jaw”. The whales damage their teeth by rubbing them on different parts of the pool, eventually forming pinholes in their teeth — this can attract bacteria and lead to a fatal infection for the whale (because the trainers simply do not have the expertise to care for such an infection). Hargrove also notes that the whales’ teeth might make them so uncomfortable that they will stop eating altogether — a hazard an orca would never have to face in the wild.
The killer whales engage in such behaviors to occupy their intelligent minds and also face a host of problems — which only exist in captivity. Similar to how the whales chew on the walls of the pool for entertainment, they also regurgitate food to keep themselves busy — yes, killer whales can develop eating disorders, too. This can be equated to bulimia nervosa. It is a shame — and a tragic paradox — that these beautiful creatures are used for people’s entertainment, yet cannot even entertain themselves and have to resort to engaging in abrasive, harmful behaviors.
Hargrove, regarding the whales in their performing environment versus their life outside of performance, states, “No matter how hard we tried, no matter how creative we were in a session, as soon as it ended, the whales would go right back to their shell of an existence, floating motionless in the pools, dealing with the monotony of captive life, bored out of their minds.” This statement perfectly sums up the whales’ mundane and dismal existence. Clearly, SeaWorld cannot be trusted when it claims that its whales live in a healthy environment. What healthy environment involves killer whales being captured from the wild, torn from their families, and living in pools that, relative to humans, would be the size of a bathtub?
As seen in Blackfish, a whale named Kasatka initially lived in the same tank with her daughter, until SeaWorld decided to separate the two and move her baby to an entirely different park. Kasatka, horrified by the loss of her daughter, emitted heartbreaking and never-before-heard vocalizations to attempt to search for her. She eventually became so distressed that she was too dangerous to work with. This exemplifies the horrors that really go into the making of a dangerous whale and encourages us to sympathize with “aggressive” whales like Kasatka and Tilikum. Stress is a large contributor to the death of killer whales at SeaWorld — though the park claims that the whales live long, most die in their teenage years, and not a single one has died of old age.
On the outside, SeaWorld seems to be gilded, but with further analysis of its practices, it is evident that the corporation is corrupt. It prides itself on superb care for its whales — but this “care” is merely an illusion. The documentary Blackfish allows us to see beyond SeaWorld’s facade and understand the harsh realities of captive animals. SeaWorld claims to respect the connection between mother and child, care about a healthy social structure, keep their whales mentally stimulated, and create a safe environment for trainers, yet it is evident through the accounts of several ex-trainers that most of these claims are not true.
SeaWorld has released false statements about the treatment of their whales and tried to keep the whales’ daily struggles under wraps; park visitors are only shown the pretty side of things. When visitors get “backstage views” of the park they will typically see a lab-coated technician working with rehabilitated oil spill otters or rescued baby sea lions — these images are vignettes that tap into visitors’ emotions and make SeaWorld look good by conveying a false sense of urgency that the park has for conservation and rehabilitation efforts.
When families visit the park, they are drawn in by the facade that is SeaWorld, but after seeing enlightening documentaries, people usually become more aware of what really happens behind the scenes and, therefore, disgusted with captivity-as-entertainment.
The last time my mother took me to SeaWorld, I was around nine or ten years old, and back then there was not much controversy — if any at all — about the park’s practices. When she heard about Blackfish and its revelations about animal captivity, she simply said, “I didn’t know” — she wished she had never taken my sisters and me to SeaWorld and Animal Kingdom when we were kids.
As a child, zoos, aquariums, the circus, and even petting zoos were sites that entertained me and where I learned about animals and even endangered species. But now that I know the horrors of animal captivity, I have a completely different and more cynical, informed perspective on these sites and do not visit them anymore (the chances of finding me at SeaWorld are slim to none).
Through the eyes of both the ex-trainers at SeaWorld and the revealing documentary Blackfish, we are led to better understand captive animals’ unfortunate lives. Since the documentary’s release, much progress has been made on this issue due to animal rights activists’ uproar, but I hope in the near future to see the end of captivity-as-entertainment.
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Sara Barry lives in NYC and likes to call herself a writer. She currently writes for Huffington Post and is editor of The Reflector. She also loves songwriting and screenwriting. She doesn’t know where the road will take her, but hopes to one day be a published novelist or screenwriter.
