It should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that children today spend far more time engaged in electronic media than experiencing nature. (With the average American child "plugged in" for six hours each day, how much time could possibly be left for outdoor play?) What is stunning, however, is that absolutely anybody thinks this is a good thing.
Welcome to L.A., where animal activists advocate replacing zoo elephants with robotic replicas -- and argue that these Dumbo-droids will have the same educational and inspirational impact as the real deal.
Really?
In August, PETA announced its desire to buy Sea World and replace Shamu and friends with "virtual marine mammals," and now similar groups are proposing that the Los Angeles Zoo's partially constructed Asian elephant habitat be scrapped and replaced with an animatronic display or IMAX film. I have no doubt that children can be entertained by a herd of electronic elephants or a school of simulated swordfish. But seeing such creatures would likely inspire fascination with the robotic technology, rather than curiosity about, or compassion for, the animals themselves.
So far Anheuser-Busch, owner of Sea World, hasn't taken PETA up on their offer to digitize Shamu, but in L.A., at least one member of City Council is trumpeting the virtues of virtual technology.
"Kids are a lot more advanced now than they were when we were growing up," Councilwoman Jan Perry said in December, addressing the issue of whether elephants should remain at the L.A. Zoo. "They watch Animal Planet, they look on the Internet, they do live feeds in their classroom ... they have access to experiences that we may not have had when we were growing up, and they seem perfectly comfortable with it, in a way that maybe we don't understand. So maybe we need to listen to them, too."
With all due respect to Councilwoman Perry, the fact that our children seem "perfectly comfortable" with the gradual replacement of nature with virtual reality is not a good thing.
In his bestselling book Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder, Richard Louv cites numerous studies documenting children's declining participation in outdoor activities and the resultant rise in obesity, depression, anxiety, and learning deficits. The need to nurture kids' connection to nature is most acute in urban settings, where parental fears of strangers and traffic pose major obstacles to outdoor play.
Admittedly, a zoo visit won't achieve the same level of impact as an African safari, but for the vast majority of us, viewing elephants and other exotic animals in their ever-shrinking native habitat is not possible. That's where accredited zoos and aquariums serve a vital role, providing a window on the larger world, a bridge between youth and nature, a safe and accessible way for children to see the wonders of the animal kingdom with their own eyes.
Like most busy parents, I'm guilty of relying too heavily at times on technology to entertain and educate my kids. After all, it's easier to pop in a DVD about whales than to take them whale-watching, and far more convenient to show them online images of the Grand Canyon than to plan and execute an actual road trip. But I strive to ensure that such virtual explorations remain an adjunct to, rather than a replacement for, actual outdoor experiences. No DVD or video game or webcam can hold a candle to Mother Nature -- in all her three-dimensional glory -- in terms of emotional and educational impact.
The argument that artificial animals can have the same impact as real ones is refuted by a 2007 study in the Journal of Developmental Processes, which investigated the costs and benefits of "virtual nature," defined as "nature experienced vicariously through electronic means." The authors found that accessing virtual nature "appears to reduce direct contact with nature," whereas in-person experiences are vitally important to both child development and conservation:
If children experience Old Faithful primarily through a webcam, where is the nurturing connection that in the past was provided by the sharing the experience with family or an adult mentor? ... From a conservation context, will they still go to see it in real life? Will they still pay their tax dollars to maintain Yellowstone?
The more kids "experience" the wonders of the natural world via virtual channels, the more they'll take it for granted. As successive generations become progressively more disconnected to nature, who will notice when it disappears? Who will care?
Some argue that children don't need to see animals in the flesh in order to care about them. But even the staunchest critics of zoos can likely trace their own love of animals to a personal interaction with a live creature, rather than a transformational moment sitting at a computer terminal. I cannot fathom the next generation of Jane Goodalls and Ian Douglas-Hamiltons crediting CGI chimpanzees or animatronic elephants with fanning the flames of their environmental action.
Louv quotes environmentalist Robert Kennedy Jr., a champion of ocean preservation, who said: "It's the oceans, not the Internet." What will inspire L.A.'s young people to became stewards of their environment and to work toward the conservation of wildlife and wild places? To paraphrase Kennedy, "it's the elephants, not the Internet."
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Right. The next step? Virtual pets. No muss, no fuss.
Too many humans still believe that they are the "stewards of nature", not animals themselves and a PART of nature.
If the natural world dies, we all die. Our world IS the "natural" world-there is no other.
Somehow, I just can't help believing that real dinosauers were a lot more impressive to stand next to than the robotic ones, and I have seen children awed by the machines. I guess some people prefer artificial plants, as well. Why do the rest of us have to live in their sterile, boring reality? An unsustainable reality, at that...
The vast majority of visitors leave zoos without having learned anything meaningful about the animals’ natural behavior, intelligence or beauty. Some years ago, Dale Marcellini, a curator at the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. conducted a study of zoo visitors. Marcellini and several colleagues monitored more than 700 people over the course of a few summers. “Basically, we just tracked them…We’d pick them up at one of the entrances and tail them and record what they did,” he stated.
The data Marcellini collected exploded the myth that zoos are excellent ways to teach people respect and understanding for animals. His study showed that zoos are little more than backdrops for people’s other preoccupations. The visitors’ conversations dealt not with the animals at all, but mostly with their own lives. When people did remark on an animal, it was usually to comment on how someone they knew looked like that baboon or hippopotamus, or to speculate how an octopus (or some other animal) could eat a person. The most common words Marcellini recorded were “dirty,” “cute,” “ugly,” “funny-looking” and “strange.”
The study found that almost 60 percent of visitors’ time was spent walking around, almost 10 percent was spent eating and other chunks of time went to resting, bathroom breaks, and shopping. When people were actually milling around the exhibits, they spent less than eight seconds per snake and one minute with the lions.
Marcellini concluded, “[people] treated the exhibits like wallpaper.”
Marcellini, a curator of reptiles, conducted his study at the National Zoo's Reptile House. Speaking for myself, I spend little time at each window in a reptile exhibit. It's just not my thing. Similar studies have come to different conclusions. It has been demonstrated that people spend greater time observing large mammals and iconic species like elephants and giraffes. From my own experiences as a zoo volunteer, there is a huge range of time spans and attitudes toward animals from zoo visitors. Typically, the most derogatory comments I'd hear came from teen and young adult males -- for example, they'd boast of being tougher than a gorilla or say they could wrestle an alligator. Moms and kids, and especially grandparents, tended to take more time reading signage and talking about the animals.
It's not surprising that part of a zoo visit is spent shopping, eating, and talking about personal matters. I'd expect much the same of people visiting a museum. Even while being educated about something outside ourselves, it is very difficult for most of us to stop thinking or talking about our own lives. This fact does not mitigate the educational value of zoos.
I volunteer at a zoo and find that lots of people look at an animal for about 30 seconds while talking about their mortgage or negotiating deals about juiceboxes and cheerios. However, several times a shift, I get people who are absolutely mesmerized by the animals they see and I talk to them about those animals. I've noticed that visitors have their favorites and members often wheedle the names out of the staff and keepers and brag about their special elephant or primate. You don't get that from a screen. Plus, the kids really really love it when the animals poop.
digitized and roboticized animals instead of real animals in zoos? Is this Soylent Green?
What if we cloned the animals for the zoo?
I ask this question only half in jest
My thoughts exactly. I read an interview recently with Iain Douglas-Hamilton, the leading expert on elephants in Africa, in which he said that zoos play a significant role in conservation by stimulating the interest of children and adults. My own interest in animals was sparked by visits to zoos as a child. I hope to inspire the same interest and appreciation in my children.
As an educator and frequent visitor to the zoo, a smile always comes to my face when I see a group of students being guided by their teacher. I witness their encounter with the mystery of life, the same that moved me when I was a child, and which I hope moves the future generation of engaged citizens.
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