Japan has one of the highest numbers of zoos per capita in the world. Annual zoo attendance exceeds the combined total of all Japanese professional baseball games and visits to Tokyo Disneyland and DisneySea. Fans travel hundreds of kilometers to see famous animals, and the animals' daily lives generate a constant stream of viral content on social media. Yet behind that popularity lies a very different reality.
Bloomberg reported Sunday that Japan's zoo network — built over more than 150 years — is buckling under a triple burden of an aging and shrinking population, deteriorating local government finances, and rising prices. Kanako Tomisawa, a researcher who has studied zoos and wildlife conservation, said local governments once had the fiscal room to support their zoos, but that is no longer the case. "There isn't enough budget to run them properly, but you can't just give up when there are living animals right in front of you," she said.
Japan's first zoo opened in Tokyo in 1882. In the early 1900s, railway companies built zoos to spur suburban new town development, and after World War II, local governments across the country rushed to open them as a way to bring comfort to children who had lived through the war. Today, 91 zoos are registered with the Japanese Association of Zoos and Aquariums, and last year they drew more than 38 million visitors.
The financial strain gripping zoos worldwide — driven by rising feed costs, electricity bills, veterinary expenses, and tightened animal welfare standards — is hitting Japan particularly hard. About 80 percent of Japanese zoos are publicly run facilities operated by local governments. That heavy dependence on tax revenue means that whenever municipal budgets tighten, zoos feel it immediately.
Zoos in the United States and other countries fund themselves through ticket sales, memberships, merchandise, sponsorships, and donations. Japan is a different story. The country ranked 141st out of 142 nations in the World Giving Index, reflecting an exceptionally weak culture of charitable giving. Individual donations amount to just 0.23 percent of GDP — the lowest among G7 nations.
Admission prices are also far too low to bridge the gap. The average ticket at a public zoo runs about $3 to $4, and many offer free entry to children and adults 65 and older. By comparison, the London Zoo charges adults around $47, Taronga Zoo in Australia $39, and the San Diego Zoo $78. Making matters worse, public zoos must obtain local government approval before raising prices, leaving them with little ability to adjust on their own.
That is why even the most popular animals fail to translate their fame into revenue. Among the most prominent examples are Shabani and Kiyomasa — the gorillas dubbed "handsome" by Japanese fans — the beloved koala Azuma, and Punch, the baby monkey who recently captivated audiences around the world.
Punch, at Ichikawa City Zoo, became famous after being abandoned by his mother and given an IKEA orangutan plush toy by a keeper. Videos of him clutching the doll as he wandered alone, or getting scolded by other monkeys, spread across social media and triggered a worldwide sellout of the toy. Yet the zoo has been unable to convert that viral fame into meaningful revenue.
The financial crisis is spilling over into a staffing crisis. At some zoos, roughly a third of keepers are on fixed-term or part-time contracts. Low wages are driving experienced staff away, and their positions are increasingly being filled by less experienced workers.
Animal populations are also shrinking noticeably. Compared with the 1980s, the number of African elephants and gorillas in Japanese zoos has fallen by more than half. Giraffes declined from 236 in 1987 to 186 last year, and sea otters — which numbered 122 in 1994 — are down to just two.
Wild animal populations worldwide have declined by an average of 73 percent over the past 50 years. In response, modern zoos have evolved beyond simple exhibition spaces into institutions that carry out endangered species conservation, research, and international breeding programs. Japanese zoos, however, are struggling just to keep their doors open, let alone participate in international conservation efforts, Bloomberg reported.
"I wanted every animal entrusted to a zoo to be happy until the very last moment of its life," Tomisawa said. "But the role of the modern zoo doesn't end there anymore. What matters more now is how much of animals' natural habitats we can protect."
mokiya@heraldcorp.com