For thousands of years, native Takhi
horses roamed the steppes of Central Asia.
But by the late 1960s,
they’d become extinct in the wild—
the last herds struggling
in meager habitats
against hunters and competition
from local livestock.
Some small groups of Takhi
survived in European zoos,
but their extinction
still seemed inevitable.
To prevent this terrible fate,
a coalition of scientists and zoos
pulled together
to start an international
Takhi breeding program.
By the 1990s, these collaborators
in Europe and the US
began releasing new generations
of Asia’s ancient wild horse
back into their native habitat.
This Takhi revival was a world-famous
conservation victory,
but the full story is much more
complicated than it first appears.
And its twists and turns raise serious
questions about the role of zoos
and what conservation even means.
To get the whole story,
we need to start in the late 1800s
when Russian explorer Nikolay Przhevalsky
was gifted
the remains of one of these wild horses.
Though the Takhi had long been
known to local Mongolians,
European scientists were intrigued
by the remains,
which looked more like those of a donkey
or zebra than any known domestic horse.
They concluded the species was a sort
of missing link
between wild asses and modern horses.
And as reports of the newly dubbed
Przhevalsky’s horse
circulated through Europe and America,
zoo proprietors became eager to acquire
the previously unknown species.
At this time, zoos were focused primarily
on drawing visitors with exotic animals,
and their exhibitions were more concerned
with entertainment than animal welfare.
But in the early 1900s, the near
extinction of the American bison
and the total extinction of other species
like the passenger pigeon
inspired zoos to rebrand
as centers for conservation.
And as it became clear that Przhevalsky’s
horse might be headed for a similar fate,
zoos began breeding programs to sustain
the captive population.
However, the individuals behind these
programs came to an interesting conclusion
about how the horses should be bred.
Like their colleagues, they believed
the species represented a missing link
between modern domestic horses
and their more primitive ancestors.
They also knew that some of the horses in
their collections weren’t purebred Takhi,
and many didn’t even resemble
the species’ standard description.
So breeders felt it was up to them
to determine what a wild Takhi
should look like,
and breed them accordingly.
Basing their work on just a few specimens
and broad beliefs
about what a primitive horse
might look like,
they created a rigorous model
for the ideal Takhi.
And over the 20th century,
breeders in western zoos
and private collections
created a population
of thousands of horses
all carefully bred to share the same
physical characteristics.
Of course, in their native habitat, wild Takhi had regularly interbred with domesticated horses for millennia, producing a population with much more diverse appearances. So when it was time to introduce the Takhi to their ancestral home, they were quite different from the horses who’d been taken from those steppes a century earlier. Complicating things even further, while these new Takhi herds were no longer in zoos, to this day, almost all remain closely monitored and controlled for their own protection. So in a strange way, it’s hard to say if these animals are actually in the wild or even if they’re truly Takhi. The story of the Takhi horse is not unique. In many of our conservation victories, it’s difficult to say exactly what was saved, and the role that zoos play in conservation can be very complicated. It's clear that zoos have been and can continue to be significant forces for animal preservation, especially efforts to save charismatic animals from extinction. But today, the most direct cause of animal extinctions are humanity’s impacts on animal habitats and Earth’s climate. So if zoos truly want to help protect the diversity of animal life on this planet, perhaps they should redirect their efforts to preserving the natural habitats these animals so desperately need.
Of course, in their native habitat, wild Takhi had regularly interbred with domesticated horses for millennia, producing a population with much more diverse appearances. So when it was time to introduce the Takhi to their ancestral home, they were quite different from the horses who’d been taken from those steppes a century earlier. Complicating things even further, while these new Takhi herds were no longer in zoos, to this day, almost all remain closely monitored and controlled for their own protection. So in a strange way, it’s hard to say if these animals are actually in the wild or even if they’re truly Takhi. The story of the Takhi horse is not unique. In many of our conservation victories, it’s difficult to say exactly what was saved, and the role that zoos play in conservation can be very complicated. It's clear that zoos have been and can continue to be significant forces for animal preservation, especially efforts to save charismatic animals from extinction. But today, the most direct cause of animal extinctions are humanity’s impacts on animal habitats and Earth’s climate. So if zoos truly want to help protect the diversity of animal life on this planet, perhaps they should redirect their efforts to preserving the natural habitats these animals so desperately need.
