Biodiversity is essential for the survival of our planet, yet humans confine animals and deny them freedom. All creatures deserve the right to live freely, urging us to rethink our ethical responsibilities.
NASA astronaut Sunita Williams returned to Earth after an unexpected nine-month mission aboard the International Space Station (ISS). Initially scheduled for a brief stay, technical issues with the Boeing Starliner extended her time in space, leading to prolonged uncertainty and isolation. Upon return, astronauts like Williams undergo a reconditioning period to readjust to Earth’s gravity, relearning basic motor skills and regaining physical strength. The ability to walk, fundamental to human life, must be relearned after months in microgravity.
Williams’ experience resonates deeply with me, reminding me of my struggle during the second wave of COVID-19 in May 2021, caused by the deadly Delta variant. I had expected a brief hospitalization, believing I would recover within a week. However, my condition deteriorated rapidly. My lungs were damaged by 92 percent, and I found myself battling for survival in a COVID ICU for three weeks. In total, I spent one and a half months in the hospital, cut off from the outside world. Days and nights blurred together as I lay in isolation, longing to see the sky, hear familiar voices, and experience the simple joy of moving freely.
Just as Sunita Williams had to regain her ability to walk, my journey to recovery was slow and arduous. After two and a half months, I retook my first few steps. The moment was overwhelming like a child learning to walk for the first time. Every small milestone in my recovery filled me with immense gratitude. It made me realize how much we take fundamental freedoms, like movement, fresh air, and human touch, for granted.
Loss of freedom: Experiences of confinement, whether in space or due to illness, offer a unique perspective on the lives of animals in captivity. Unlike astronauts or patients who anticipate a return to freedom, many animals in zoos, temples, and private collections endure lifelong captivity. Research indicates that a significant percentage of zoo animals exhibit signs of mental distress, a condition known as ‘zoochosis.’ Symptoms include repetitive behaviors, anxiety, and depression stemming from restricted environments that lack the stimulation of their natural habitats.
The ethical implications of keeping animals in captivity are complex. While some argue that zoos play a role in conservation and education, the adverse effects on animal well-being cannot be ignored. Captive animals often face limited space, unnatural social structures, and inadequate mental stimulation, leading to both physical and psychological health issues. Humans, who have fought for their freedom throughout history, must extend the same empathy to other sentient beings.
Reflecting on these parallels prompts critical questions about our responsibilities toward other species. Do humans possess the moral right to confine animals for entertainment or education, especially when such confinement leads to suffering? Compassion, empathy, and freedom are central to this discourse. Moreover, our planet’s ecosystem’s health is intricately linked to its diverse species’ well-being.
The decline of pollinators like bees, the endangerment of elephants, and deforestation all have cascading effects on environmental stability. Whether in space, a hospital room, or a cage, the longing for freedom is universal. These reflections challenge us to reevaluate our ethical considerations, striving for a world where freedom and well-being are universal rights, extending beyond humanity to all creatures that share our planet.
The writer is a senior journalist and columnist. Views are personal. Twitter @narvijayyadav
