The Death of a Giraffe
by Sherry F. Colb
Many are rightly outraged by what happened to Marius. He was not a thing – a container of DNA – to be destroyed when he proved no longer useful to his owners. But Marius’s death ought to inspire more than simple condemnation of the Copenhagen Zoo. Perhaps his death will not have been in vain if it inspires people who are outraged on his behalf to reconsider their daily choices as consumers. As we rightly criticize the Copenhagen Zoo for treating a living, feeling animal as a thing, let us stop doing the same by paying for the slaughter of other beings, less visible but no less worthy than Marius the sweet young giraffe.
On Sunday, February 9, the Copenhagen Zoo put to death a
young, healthy giraffe named Marius, in front of a crowd of onlookers that included
children. The zoo decided to kill Marius
because he was not “suitable” for breeding, since his genes were too common in
the giraffe population. After he was
slaughtered, Marius’s body was dissected in front of the same crowd that had
watched him die, a spectacle of which the zoo spokesperson reportedly declared
that he was “proud,” because the children had the opportunity for a “huge
understanding of the anatomy of a giraffe.”
The slaughter of Marius, a gentle young animal, was not – as
some described it – “euthanasia.” Euthanasia
literally means a “good death” and refers to occasions when we kill someone for
his or her own good. The zoo, however,
killed Marius despite his own good, because he was not going to be a useful conduit
of giraffe DNA. Indeed, the Director of
Research and Conservation at the zoo, Bengt Holst, was reported to have rejected
an offer of space at another zoo, because such space should be reserved for “a
genetically more important” giraffe.
Some zoos, of course, might have found an alternative to
slaughtering a healthy giraffe, such as castration. Nonetheless, it is useful to note that this
event highlights a truth about all zoos, not only the Copenhagen Zoo. Zoos regard their animals primarily (and
sometimes exclusively) as natural resources to be utilized, as mere exemplars
of their DNA to be mined for more exemplars and for entertainment value. In zoos, animals who normally range over huge
distances are confined to enclosures that are pale reflections of the native environments
of these living beings.
In this case, Marius was “unsuitable” for breeding, so he
was instead slaughtered, a process that – like the exhibits of
captive animals at zoos, aquaria, and marine parks – was touted as “educational”
for children. As ethologist Dr. Jonathan
Balcombe has said, however, such displays effectively, if unwittingly, “teach” children
and others that animals’ lives matter
only insofar as they serve human purposes.
This is a familiar lesson of disregard for the inherent worth of animals,
as we learn it at the grocery store as well – where the corpses and bodily
secretions of innocent, young animals kept in captivity and then trucked to a
terrifying slaughter are on sale by the
pound, by the quart, and by the dozen.
Many are rightly outraged by what happened to Marius. He was not a thing – a container of DNA – to be destroyed when he proved no longer useful to his owners. But Marius’s death ought to inspire more than simple condemnation of the Copenhagen Zoo. Perhaps his death will not have been in vain if it inspires people who are outraged on his behalf to reconsider their daily choices as consumers. As we rightly criticize the Copenhagen Zoo for treating a living, feeling animal as a thing, let us stop doing the same by paying for the slaughter of other beings, less visible but no less worthy than Marius the sweet young giraffe.