Illegal animal ownership and the coming ethical shift

In 2020, the world became briefly obsessed with Tiger King, a lurid portrait of exotic animal owners in the United States. Viewers were entertained by the spectacle, but beneath the chaos lay a far deeper question: why do we tolerate the private ownership of wild creatures at all?

For decades, the keeping of exotic pets, tigers, monkeys, snakes, and even endangered species has been accepted, sometimes celebrated, and often trivialised.  

Today, exotic animal ownership is framed through the language of fascination and freedom. An individual posting a photo with a capuchin monkey or a tiger cub is seen as eccentric, perhaps indulgent, but rarely immoral. Social media has reinforced this perception: animals become props in displays of uniqueness, wealth, or adventure. Beneath this lies a familiar assumption, that humans may own and confine animals so long as “care” is provided. After all, dogs, cats, and horses are kept under this same logic; exotic pets are simply imagined as an extension of that tradition.  

This is the widely held ethical stance of our time: ownership is permissible, provided the owner is attentive, and the animal survives. It is sometimes argued that exotic pets can be kept ethically if an owner is conscientious. Yet responsibility cannot undo captivity’s intrinsic harms. To confine a leopard to a cage, however large, is to deny it the roaming it evolved to do. The deprivation is structural, not accidental.  

Still, harm is thought to arise only when neglect or cruelty is obvious.  

This collapses under scrutiny. To provide food, shelter, and medical care is not to provide a life worth living. A monkey raised in isolation, or a tiger confined to a cage, cannot express the instincts and social behaviours that define their species – a phenomenon well-documented in studies of animal deprivation, such as Harry Harlow’s experiments on social isolation in rhesus monkeys.   

What is portrayed as “care” often amounts to prolonged deprivation.  

Beyond individual suffering, the practice generates wider consequences. The demand for exotic pets drives illegal trafficking, stripping wild populations of already vulnerable species. Animals smuggled in appalling conditions frequently die before reaching their buyers; a hidden toll rarely acknowledged. Where they survive, ecological disruption follows: Florida’s Everglades, overrun by invasive pythons once kept as pets, as reported by the National Geographic, is a cautionary tale. Tens of thousands of Burmese pythons now threaten native wildlife after being released into the wild. The exotic pet trade has also been implicated in the spread of zoonotic diseases, some with pandemic potential. 

Taken together, these realities show that ownership is not an isolated act of personal freedom but an ethical entanglement with ecosystems, species survival, and human wellbeing.  

A history of widening ethical concern

The idea that today’s tolerance of exotic pets will endure is contradicted by history. Societal ethics evolve, and practices once normalised are later judged harshly. Only a generation ago, elephants performing tricks in circuses were symbols of joy; today, such displays are condemned as cruelty. Dolphins in marine parks, once crowd-pleasers, are increasingly seen as victims of confinement. Whaling was defended as tradition until it was widely recognised as barbaric.  

In each case, the ethical lens widened: human enjoyment and cultural prestige could no longer justify animal suffering. Exotic pet ownership is on the same trajectory. What seems acceptable today will soon be viewed as exploitative and anachronistic.  

As scientific knowledge of animal sentience deepens, the ethical case against exotic pet ownership will sharpen. It is not merely a matter of legality but legitimacy. Future generations are unlikely to accept the claim that affection can justify possession. The very idea of “owning” a wild creature will be seen as incompatible with respect for its autonomy and wellbeing.  

Instead, we are moving toward an ethic of stewardship. Rather than treating animals as curiosities to be acquired, there will be growing recognition of the responsibility to preserve habitats, support sanctuaries, and protect species in the wild. A monkey belongs not in a suburban home but to the forests that shape its instincts. A tiger does not need a private enclosure but a functioning ecosystem. Within this ethical framework, claim ownership of such beings will appear arrogant, an outdated relic of human entitlement.  

The appeal to personal freedom carries weight, but freedoms that cause serious harm are never absolute. We regulate weapons, smoking, and pollution because individual liberty cannot override collective well-being. The same reasoning applies here: the harm to animals, ecosystems, and public health outweighs personal preference.  

This ethical shift is not only about animals; it reflects how humanity conceives its place in the natural world.

The ownership of exotic animals continues with a pattern of domination: we collect, confine, and display living beings as extensions of ourselves. To reject this is to embrace humility, acknowledging that not everything can be possessed; that respect sometimes requires distance.

There is also a broader trend in the gradual expansion of who and what is deemed worthy of ethical concern. Once, children, women, and marginalised groups were excluded from full recognition. Over time, the circle widened. Now, it extends beyond humanity itself. Exotic animal ownership will be one of the practices left behind as this circle continues to grow.  

In the next twenty years, the widespread view will collapse under evidence of animal suffering, ecological damage, and disease risk. More importantly, it will fall because it no longer fits with the kind of ethical society we aspire to be. Future generations will look back at our era with disbelief, asking how we ever imagined that affection could excuse possession. The shift will mark not only a victory for animals but a step towards a more responsible, less arrogant humanity, one that values stewardship above ownership, and respect above curiosity. 

Illegal animal ownership and the coming ethical shift by Rhiannon Gee is one of the Highly Commended essays in our Young Writers’ 2025 Competition. Find out more about the competition here.