Human Animals
Before entering the human zoo, there is the animal question. Human brains are, evolutionarily speaking, more evolved than the brains of any other species. Chimpanzees, dolphins, elephants, dogs come close in some areas, but you know. Covid-19 is a stark reminder just how deeply we are linked to the wider human-animal-plant ecosystem. Viruses have traveled from animals to humans and vice versa — called ‹reverse zoonosis›— since their evolutionary divergence ca. 5 to 7 million years ago.[2] We tend to overlook how changes we bring to environments affect us in turn. As Christine Kreuder Johnson from the Epicenter for Disease Dynamics notes, «spillover of viruses from animals is a direct result of our actions involving wildlife and their habitat. The consequence is they’re sharing their viruses with us.»[3] ln the late 1960s zoologist Desmond Morris wrote The Naked Ape and The Human Zoo, comparing human and animal behavior. For Morris,
The zoo animal in a cage exhibits all these abnormalities that we know so well from our human companions. Cleary, then, the city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo. The comparison we must make is not between the city-dweller and the wild animal, but between the city-dweller and the captive animal.[4]
Morris goes on to describe the urban environment where the modern human finds itself in a «huge, restless menagerie in constant danger of cracking under the strain. But despite the hazards, it is the most exciting game the world has ever seen.» Indeed, according to a European Commission forecast, by 2100, some 85% of the global population will live in cities.[5] Emerging from Covid-19 lockdowns, many find solace in crowds, including Black Lives Matter, climate and anti-lockdown protests. Some of them are inspiring, some truly puzzling. Some are not protests at all but raves or riots. A passage from The Human Zoo reads, «if they feel themselves trapped in a planner’s prison they will stage a prison riot. If the environment does not permit creative innovations, they will smash it in order to be able to start again. This is one of the greatest dilemmas our societies face. To resolve it is our formidable task for the future.»[6] The international animal charity ‹Born Free› seized the moment for their ‹Creature Discomforts› campaign to raise awareness for captive, mistreated animals. The campaign shows animals talk as if in Covid-19 self-isolation. One realizes that for animals, captivity is a permanent condition.
In her recent book ‹When Animals Speak: Toward an Interspecies Democracy›, artist and animal ethicist Eva Meijer writes that «animals have been speaking to us all along.»[8] We are just bad listeners — «animals are stuck with us on this planet, and we are stuck with them. They pester us, threaten us, entertain us, and, as we have been recently reminded, infect us — as we infect them in turn. Like it or not — and some of them surely do not — we exist in relationship with animals.»[9] One project to better understand animals, their movements, interactions with humans and earthquake sensing is the ICARUS initiative, online since 2019.[10] Putting trackers on animals sounds fairly evil, but carrying smartphones makes us as traceable. We are issued passports with rights attached, while animals are excluded from any form of citizenship even though they are part of the same ecosystem. A tracker would be an animal passport of sorts and a way to acknowledge the existence of the individual animal. It could be a first step in drafting global animal rights. Without tracker they are more likely to remain sidelined (much like homeless people or undocumented migrants).
North Sentinel Island
Covid-19 has unlocked a new awareness of bodies in spatial confines. Stepping outside, especially at the beginning of the first lockdown, felt different, there was a new sense of inside and outside. After a few weeks, the inside became for some, I imagine, a cage, an official (stay indoors) yet private (how to deal with it) claustro-existentialist mini phase. Self-isolation, a term that previously evoked prison environments or fictional scenarios (Orange is the New Black) would become — who would have thought in January 2020 — a new way of living.[11]
For the Sentinelese, living in near total isolation from the global community is the norm. The Sentinelese are the indigenous people of North Sentinel Island, a square shaped island the size of Manhattan in the Bay of Bengal. The island is part of the Andaman Archipelago, a union territory of India. The Sentinelese are among the last tribal people to remain virtually untouched by modern civilization. With a population estimated to be between 39 and 400, the inhabitants are hostile to visitors.[12]
In 2018, missionary and adventure blogger John Allen Chau attempted to preach Christianity to the North Sentinel tribespeople. Chau was killed upon arrival by tribesmen. The case was being treated as a murder but there has been no suggestion that anyone would be charged.[13] The incident raises a set of challenging questions. How does a government, the Indian one in this case, deal with a hostile, uncontacted tribe facing the threat of infectious diseases to which they have no immunity, as well as potential abuse from intruders, particularly adventure tourists? The Indian government has declared the entire island and the surrounding waters extending in a 5-mile radius from the island to be an exclusion zone.[14] The nearest neighboring island is almost 20 miles away — roughly the distance between England and France at the Strait of Dover.
Seven individuals were taken into custody by Indian police on suspicion of helping Chau illegally obtain access to the island.[15] Survival International is an organization dedicated to the protection of uncontacted tribes. In a statement they critique the authorities for having «lifted one of the restrictions that had been protecting the Sentinelese tribe’s island from foreign tourists, which sent exactly the wrong message, and may have contributed to this terrible event.»[16] But can the Indian government really be blamed? Only constant surveillance with alert mechanisms would provide absolute safety from intruders. The implementation of such a system raises additional questions. Total surveillance would effectively turn the island into a zoo-like cage with humans inside. As travel writer Jim Dobson notes, «this outcast paradise, removed from all civilization, is surrounded by more mystery than any science fiction film.»[17]
On the nearby South and Middle Andaman Islands, road building and rising tourism have fundamentally changed the local Jarawa tribe. The Andaman Trunk Road cuts through their territory. The road has given rise to ‹human safaris,› where tour operators take tourists on rides in the hope of spotting one of the 250 to 400 members of the tribe.[19] Diseases like measles can be devastating for a tribe like the Jarawas.[20]
Given enough time and infrastructure investment projects, what happened to the Jarawa may happen to the Sentinelese. Despite efforts there is little one can do to stop the world from coming closer. Much like The Truman Show, the Sentinelese might one day become ‹content› of some desperate vlogger beaming their voluntary isolation into modern living rooms by filming or live streaming their daily routines. This vision is not far-fetched: as Jim Dobson writes, «several local operators are now starting to organize the ultimate human safari in protected armored boats to the shores of North Sentinel.»[21] There are manifold ethical issues related to uncontacted tribes.[22] Ideally, they would continue to live in peace, shielded from modernity and safe from the threat of infectious disease. But modernity, this insatiable movement, spreads like wildfire across the globe. Like literal wildfire especially in Brazil where deforestation caused by illegal logging is a direct threat to uncontacted tribes. Modernity is also literally hungry, relentlessly demanding meat. Agriculture is arguably the most destructive human activity on the planet.[23] The current Brazilian government under Bolsonaro doesn’t commit to protection efforts. At the current rate, the Amazon rainforest will be reduced by 40% by 2030.[24] The immediate victims are the many remaining tribes of the Amazon. There are no easy solutions. Brazil is a sovereign state deciding its own policies.
Big Brother, Bing and Truman Burbank
The syndicated television spectacle Big Brother attracts millions of viewers worldwide. Contestants agree to enter closed compounds as ‹housemates› and be monitored 24/7. People are voted out and in the end the one remaining contestant wins the cash prize. As of 2018, there have been 445 seasons of Big Brother in over 54 franchise countries and regions.[28] Producer Linda Holmes writes, «‹Human zoo?› Sure. If the zoo animals volunteered, signed a release, and were being paid to be there. In fact, you could change the name of Big Brother to The Human Zoo and you know what? They'd still come, because this is the game.»[29] Producer Allison Grodner says the houseguests often compare themselves to the dolphins at Sea World.[30] In Extras, Ricky Gervais’ character agrees to be in a celebrity Big Brother house, then rants in disillusion, «You’re literally the gutter press. And fuck you, the makers of this show as well, you can’t wash your hands of this, you can’t keep going, ‹Oh, it’s exploitation but it’s what the public want.› No. The Victorian freak show never went away, now it’s called Big Brother or X Factor. Where, in the preliminary rounds, we wheel out the bewildered to be sniggered at by multi-millionaires. And fuck you for watching this at home. Shame on you and shame on me… I’m the worst of all cause I’m one of these people that goes, ‹Oh, I’m an entertainer, it’s in my blood.› Yeah, it’s in my blood because a real job’s too hard.»
Millions watch these formats. The participants signed contracts and unlike animals consented to being locked in and put under televised surveillance. Despite the obvious differences there are overlaps between animal zoos and Big Brother. Viewers virtually visit a curated (meaning video-edited) human zoo-type situation. The zookeepers appear as executives with viewing numbers in mind. The Big Brother format allows viewers to be emotionally implicated (by witnessing people respond to situations) and root for their house guests of choice. There is empathic engagement, as the housemates are human — unlike in animal zoos where humans watch animals without necessarily gaining deeper insight into animal joys and struggles.
The Black Mirror TV series has its own human zoo episode, ‹Fifteen Million Merits› (season 1, episode 2) where young inmates of a massive live-work complex have to cycle on exercise bikes to earn ‹merits› to get everything from toothpaste to the power to skip annoying ads. In their windowless, screen-clad living cubicles, the inmates watch personalized entertainment programs interspersed by targeted advertisements. Bingham ‹Bing› Madsen (Daniel Kaluuya) encourages friend and potential love interest Abi Khan (Jessica Brown Findlay) to enter Hot Shot, a reality contest where winners are able to forgo bike riding and live luxuriously. Khan sings a song by Irma Thomas. The judges, though impressed, state that there are no more positions for singers, and one judge suggests she would be better suited for Judge Wraith’s pornography show ‹WraithBabes›. Abi, fuzzy from the compulsory ‹Cuppliance› drink, caves in to pressure from the crowd and to Bing’s dismay, accepts the offer.
Incensed by this turn of events, Bing goes on a regiment to earn enough points to enter the talent game Hot Shot himself. Starting with a dance, Bing pulls out a shard of glass and threatens to take his own life. He rants about the tyrannical system they live under. After some discussion between the judges, Bing is offered his own regular show on one of the channels, which consists in him ranting while holding the glass shard to his neck. By having his own show, Bing escapes the slave-like living conditions of riding bicycles. He lives in a bigger, sterile flat now. The episode ends with Bing looking out from his room onto what appears to be a vast green forest.
The system in the episode «tolerates dissent as long as it can be packaged and commodified.»[32] As another commentator notes, «It’s The Matrix, but stripped of all that film’s epic cyberpunk design and scale. Instead of being harvested as batteries by robots, the inmates are used as drones by an unseen bureaucracy.»[33] A recurring subtheme of Black Mirror is economic enslavement disguised as self-determination (obviously the current zero-hours contract and gig economy extrapolated into the near future). If you earn enough points you will get a chance to ‹get out,› but the whole game is rigged. Reality has been replaced by an intricate illusion that pretends to be reasonable. The system preys and feeds on aspiration, the individual inhabitants are mere ‹providers of content› to fuel a system that is on a dehumanizing trajectory.[34] The exercise bicycle is evocative of hamster wheels and absurdity of pursuit as illustrated by the Sisyphus myth. Through his actions, Bing sustains a dystopian system that thrives on individualized exploitation and engineered dependency. It can only be sustained by the participants’ ignorance of the mechanisms, and indeed the characters seem unable to articulate collective discontent. A similar plot structure can be found in Boots Riley’s Sorry to Bother You (2018). Everyone fights for themselves, while only gradually becoming aware of how such pursuit fuels the system in a perpetual cycle of exploitation. In the crass way typical of Black Mirror, ‹Fifteen Million Merits› portrays the death of solidarity.
The interplay of voluntary and involuntary confinement is a major theme in The Truman Show. The main character Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey) lives in the modern town of Seahaven, a massive stage built to host and film him 24/7. Truman increasingly senses the fakeness of people’s behavior and, in the end, manages to step out of the dome into the real world. The film is a fairly deep meditation on human drive and purpose. Much like North Korea with its totalitarian media and propaganda apparatus, Seahaven’s illusion can only be upheld by high production standards (meticulous attention to detail to make Truman believe in Seahaven’s reality) and force (a fake storm disrupts Truman’s attempt to sail away). Consider the following dialogue between Truman’s love interest Sylvia (Natascha McElhone) and Truman Show creator Christophe (Ed Harris):
Sylvia: Don’t you every feel guilty?
Christophe: I have given Truman a chance to lead a normal life. The world, the place you live in, is the sick place. Seahaven is how the world should be.
Sylvia: He’s not a performer, he’s a prisoner! Look at him, look at what you’ve done to him!
Christophe: He can leave at any time. If he was absolutely determined to discover the truth, there is no way we could prevent it. What distresses you, really, caller, is that ultimately, Truman prefers his cell, as you call it.
Sylvia: Well, that's where you're wrong. You’re so wrong! And he'll prove you wrong!
Through many strange occurrences and behaviors of fellow citizens, Truman begins to doubt the reality he is presented with. His observations push him to leave Seahaven, which he ultimately achieves. The film presents a more uplifting ending than the Black Mirror episode where the outside has been abolished altogether. Note the similarities between Truman Burbank and the Sentinelese. The Sentinelese have never left their island, a Seahaven of sorts sustained by their own worldview. Every outsider signifies a threat precisely because it brings with it other worldviews and technologies that would alter their way of life forever. With the world around encroaching, their existence becomes increasingly threatened. The neighboring Great Andamanese tribes have seen their first Covid-19 cases.[36] The Sentinelese are accidental outcasts in a quickly globalizing world. They are completely dependent on what the outside decides for them. As the Ed Harris character in The Truman Show, the Indian government and NGOs increasingly find themselves in a position of curating and sustaining the reality of the Sentinelese so that their Seahaven won’t disintegrate. Because any permanent contact would forever change their world and island living, the situation requires a benevolent zookeeper that helps to maintain the illusion of independence and self-determination. Beyond the science fictional dome and scenario, The Truman Show is relevant because many people who in real life decided to leave the village they grew up in have faced similar obstacles. The Truman Show evokes the curiosity that moves people to move and discover other places, other people far from home. Modernity in this sense is, despite its many horrifying manifestations, not simply a one-dimensional and destructive human development, but rather an ambiguous, multifaceted and ultimately vital and curious one.
Human Zoos in the Colonial Period
In the period from ca. 1850 to 1950, ‹world exhibitions› and traveling attractions often featured ethnological expositions. As a study on these ‹human zoos› explains, «Europe sought to reinforce its world hegemony by declaring its mastery over other ‹races,› whose destiny involved a simple choice: to be brought under colonial rule or disappear. Each of the great centers of Western imperialism exploited this chance to ‹exhibit difference›in order to reinforce its self-justificatory arguments concerning its policies overseas.»[42] Human zoos served to prime the general public for justifying imperial ambitions and demonstrate, through the hollow claims of scientific racism, superiority over the exhibited subject. The visitor numbers were staggering, in the millions for each event.[43] Traveling was not widespread for the common population. Commercial airlines did not exist before 1914. Photography and film, less harmful means to discover other parts of the globe, were only emerging. For most people living in the late 19th century, ‹world exhibitions› were an opportunity to come into contact with the ‹Other,› people from far way. One has to imagine a curious Western public with a high demand for such events that are now perceived as racist. Yet «the exhibition of the Other cannot be reduced to a simple demonstration of the hierarchy of races. It is part of a far more complex process. It is a fact that some exhibitions led to fascination, even reverence and admiration.» Cinema itself, a competitor to world fair/human zoo events, can be seen as a type of emergent Zoo-Keeper, picturing and attributing visual meaning to people.[44] As Eric Deroo notes, «through postcards and, later, film, images became ideal vehicles for a process of popularization. The vast majority of Europeans and Americans, who were barely literate, would discover new worlds through the reproduction of the image. While these images allowed the discovery of the Other, they also allowed readers and viewers to become aware for their own status as observers.»[45]
Abuse was widespread and many ethnic performers died in the context of the expositions. From the 1880s on, ethnic shows became an industry of sorts for participating groups, as contracts were entered into with the recruiters and the performers were often represented by a third party – thus complicating the image of the Other as victim. «Some participants signed contracts to tour Europe for one or two years without having any idea of what it would be like. Others, such as the Sioux Indians, had long performed in such shows and were perfectly aware of what to expect. Some individuals came from a context of deprivation, signing up in order to escape poverty or debts, whereas groups such as the Sami had wealthy backgrounds and dictated the terms of their contracts, even requiring that salaries be paid to replacement herdsmen for the period of their absence. All sources indicate that money was the most important motive for prospective participants in the ethnic shows.»[46]
Human zoo-type ethnic shows disappeared by the mid-20th century. «Human zoos clearly tell us nothing about the ‹exotic› populations exhibited. However, they are an extraordinary tool for analyzing Western attitudes from the end of the nineteenth century to the 1930s, and for exposing declarations of popular racism in almost all the countries of the West.»[48] Human Zoos stopped making sense even by colonial standards, as the colonized populations were supposed to become successfully assimilated, ‹civilized› subjects:
The status of the Other within these exhibitions also gradually changed. At first reified as a ‹savage,› the ‹exotic› figure was gradually ‹tamed› during the period of colonial conquest and then ‹civilized,› in order to demonstrate the achievements of the colonial ‹civilizing mission.› By contrast, those races who, in the contemporary view, were embarked on an irrevocable decline continued to be portrayed as ‹savages,› in anticipation of their disappearance when confronted with civilization destined to act as a guide to the whole of humanity. Against this backdrop, human zoos adapted themselves to the views of the time, the political context and the expectations of their visitors.[49]
However difficult a subject, ethnic exhibits are part of colonial — and postcolonial — history, and what becomes evident when reading about these events are the serious shortcomings of a certain overconfident, scientific-technological worldview that, from today’s perspective, was unscientific (as it was co-opted by racialism and colonialism). Exploitation has a tendency to return in different guises, especially when its root causes and lineages through history are overlooked or forgotten.
Solitary confinement
As Desmond Morris described in The Human Zoo, life in cities can be seen through a zoological lens. Venkatesh Rao described the current period as domestic ‹hard cozy,› characterized by periods of extended indoor living.[50] In Japan, a societal phenomenon named hikikomori has been occupying sociologists and therapists for some time. Hikikomori choose to live in voluntary self-isolation, often for decades. The main reasons for it are societal pressures and interpersonal relations in particular. A 2016 government survey estimated that «541,000 people aged between 15 and 39 in Japan avoid social contact and shut themselves in their homes.»[51] In 2018 the number was estimated to be 613,000 people, males making up 76.6 percent of recluses between the ages of 40 and 64.[52]
In the near future, there may be a growing need for hikikomori caretakers to attend to and reintegrate people living in self-isolation almost completely withdrawn from society. Hikikomori live a hidden existence at the margin of society, in constant fear of outside intrusion by a neighbor, family member or foster person. This irrational fear s amplified over the months or years living in isolation. With time the chance of reintegration may decrease, creating a loop of isolation and loneliness.
In many cases, the lives of the hikikomori had become so stressful that they saw no other option but retire to a room. It is a terrible, not a blissful state. In the context of this essay, note the vanishing line between a ‹free› individual choosing to self-isolate voluntarily and a prison or zoo inmate involuntarily incarcerated yet provided with certain rights.
Non/Human Guinea Pigs
In the Westworld episode ‹The Riddle of the Sphinx› (season 2 episode 4) a man in a cell-like space engages in his daily routine. He is revealed to be a robot-host in a secret park compound into which the consciousness of the now dead James Delos, founder of Delos Incorporated (which owns various entertainment parks, among them ‹Westworld›) was implanted to create a human-host hybrid. The goal of this endeavor is to achieve immortality for Delos, and if successful, for everyone else with the appropriate funds. However, each time William (the ‹zookeeper› if you like) visits to establish a cognitive baseline, the James Delos host reaches a ‹cognitive plateau› after a few minutes and becomes unstable. When William informs the Delos host that his wife (the wife of the real James Delos) died, it is like «warning a phantom that it is about to be haunted».[55] William then gives instructions to burn the host and cell down to start the process anew to reach a better result next time. This process is repeated around 150 times over many years before the project is abandoned.
Ex Machina presents a film-length Turing test in which Ava (Alicia Vikander), a sophisticated AGI, is imprisoned and confronted with a human guinea pig (played by Domhnall Glesson) to test if he would trust and fall in love with her. Ex Machina addresses the control and alignment problem of human level AGI. As Stuart Russell puts it, «we need to teach machines humility.»[57] The irony of this statement is that we very possibly do not excel at humility either. Another enclosure is featured in Blade Runner 2049 where Ana Stelline, the daughter of Rick Deckard and Rachael from the first film, was put in a dome chamber at the age of 8 due to health issues (a compromised immune system). For her work as a subcontractor of the Wallace corporation she uses a ‹memory orb› to design artificial memory implants for a new line of Replicants. She says to K, the visiting replicant, «if you have authentic memories you have real human responses – wouldn’t you agree?» A few moments later she realizes the memory implanted in K is from her own childhood. K becomes a vessel programmed to help a pro-replicant cause. He is a puppet of his mind and Ana the memory maker. From within the domed cell, her impact on the world is considerable.
Absalon
In 1992, the year before he died of HIV-related illness at the age of 29, Absalon made ‹Solutions,› a short video where the artist can be seen performing a series of ordinary activities such as sitting at the table, eating, pacing in the space, smoking, masturbating, taking a bath, sleeping. The video has a striking resemblance to the aforementioned James Delos scene in Westworld. Absalon’s work in its white modernist existentialism has a human-zoo vibe. Perhaps driven by his progressing illness and approaching death, Absalon spent the last few years of his life working tirelessly on a series of structures. Based on his body measurements, the six structures of ‹Cell (Prototypes)› (1992–1993) were one-person living units to be installed in six cities (Paris, Zurich, New York, Tel Aviv, Frankfurt, probably Tokyo) that henceforth would serve as the artist’s «home.». Absalon designed them as non-utopian living units radically adapted to his body. They don’t fall into easy categories and express a dedication to radical isolation while being located within an urban, societal context. The cells «both unite and separate society and individual.»[58] They oscillate between individual freedom designed to curb desire and the creation of an infallible system, a totalizing prison. The cells propose a type of self-imposed, minimal zoo living that constantly tests the limits of one’s own freedom. His «proposals» sculptures outline «structures, probably underground or bunker-like, in which to house future communities in post-apocalyptic states.»[59]
Given the conflicted existence of the cells (Absalon called them «viruses»), the way the artist’s body sits uneasily within them and they sit uneasily in a city , the white objects are more mental than architectural. With his drive to radically self-isolate in the midst of urban centers (in his youth he lived among Bedouins in Sinai but ultimately found it unfulfilling), his interest in unlocated violence (does it come from the outside or is it brewing inside?) and correspondent acts of rebellion, Absalon, and the cities along with him, flirt with real and imagined crime (in Assassinations we watch Absalon as a criminal protagonist committing a series of murders for thirty minutes). The figure of the criminal in its depth and shallowness lures the modern audience. The criminal in its moral ambiguity and absurd yet determined goal orientation is perhaps the quintessential modern subject. Where does rebellion against injustice (the injustice of rigid societal structures or of the sickness invading his body) end and destructive, criminal behavior begin?[60] Absalon inhabits this territory. Absalon is an exemplary modern individual – this other island.
Consumer Zoos
The film Ready Player One features vast container cities called ‹stacks.› By the 2040s the world is gripped by an energy crisis due to the depletion of fossil fuels and the impact of global warming and overpopulation, causing widespread social problems and economic stagnation. To escape the decline, people turn to the ‹OASIS,› a virtual reality simulator accessible to players using visors and haptic technology such as gloves. The Stacks are named for the way dozens of trailers and similar mobile living quarters are stacked on top of one another, held together by metal beams, pipes and makeshift girders. They were originally trailer parks inundated with refugees who sought to live closer to the cities as the energy crisis hit.[62]
Both Black Mirror’s ‹Fifteen Million Merits› and Ready Player One show a defeated, quasi-enslaved, tech-addicted population sleepwalking into human-zoo living. Both societies are sustained by engaging in virtual reality platforms that double as (rigged) economic opportunities. Refusing to play would mean to forfeit the already scarce or nonexistent labor opportunities. Ready Player One is bleaker than ‹Fifteen Million Merits› in that Ready Player One’s OASIS online system has a communal side where people can gather, whereas ‹Fifteen Million Merits› (like Black Mirror in general, with the exception of the occasional more optimistic episode) shows a world where social disintegration has advanced beyond a point of no return. The massive complex in ‹Fifteen Million Merits› and the evil IOI corporation of Ready Player One are both on the more cartoonish side of science fiction, but like the gem Idiocracy they do offer a vision of what happens if consumerism turns into large-scale rentism.[63] The science fiction of Black Mirror and Ready Player One presents exaggerated socio-economic extrapolations to provide tools to culturally think through flaws in current systemic landscapes.