The elephant in the room on a trip to the zoo

The Victorian menageries have been rebranded as modern arks, but their talk of conservation can be painfully contradictory

- Martha Gill

The success of zoos is undeniable.

They are a slam-dunk tourist destination - four of the nation's top 10 paid-for attractions.

One in five of us go to the zoo at least once a year: it's a favourite of schoolchildren, weary parents and young adults looking for something to do. According to the British and Irish Association of Zoos and Aquariums (Biaza), 30 million people visited one of their 130 members last year. They slumped in the 70s and 80s, but now zoos are back.

We have a conflicted relationship with the zoo. Just 22% of us reckon they should be banned, but around half think it unacceptable to keep large animals like elephants or great apes in captivity - exactly the creatures zoo-goers most want to see. Stories of neglect and cruelty regularly hit headlines. In October 2024, for example, came disturbing allegations about the now closed South Lakes Safari Zoo in Cumbria of "overstocked" animals "fighting", "inbreeding" and lying bloodied on the floor, and a peacock that had its head ripped off by giant otters "in front of a school group". Yet two-thirds of us think these institutions a force for good in the relationship between humans and animals.

It's surprising, in a way, that zoos have survived to 2025. They are the offspring of two ancestors, both long dead. The first is the menagerie, collections of wild animals kept by the rich, and sometimes on public display. The second is the capture of exotic animals for study, a favourite pastime of Victorian collectors.