[4] Q: Is it important to use a hook with elephants?

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Dr. Anya Sharma: An Animal Welfare Scholar
Mr. David Chen: An Animal Rights Activist
Uncle Kham: A Veteran Laotian Mahout from Manifa Elephant Camp

Moderator: Now, let’s turn to another often-debated tool: the elephant hook, also known as the ankus or bullhook. Dr. Sharma, is it important, or indeed ethical, to use a hook with elephants?

Dr. Anya Sharma: Thank you. The answer, from my perspective and that of many welfare specialists, is yes—but only with exceptional care, proven competence, and complete transparency. In traditional elephant management systems, often called ‘free contact,’ mahouts use this tool to guide and communicate. It’s designed to be long enough to allow a mahout to reach areas of an elephant’s body that are otherwise inaccessible, primarily for essential routine care – like foot cleaning, medical inspections, or guiding them during bathing. It’s also a crucial tool in rare emergencies when a startled or pained elephant could inadvertently pose a threat to people or itself.

Mr. David Chen: Dr. Sharma, while I understand the description of its intended use, from an animal rights perspective, the very existence and use of such a tool, regardless of intent, signals a fundamental problem. The hook, for us, is not merely a guide; it is a symbol of subjugation, a material expression of human authority over a sentient being who has not, and cannot, consent to its role in tourism or any other human-imposed routine.

Uncle Kham: (Nods slowly, holding an imaginary hook respectfully) We call it a khor (hook in Lao, or similar term). It is an old tool, yes. For us, it is an extension of our hand, our voice. Like reins are for a horseman, or a crook for a shepherd who guides his flock gently. My grandfather taught me: the khor is not for striking hard, not for anger. It is for a light touch, a signal. The elephant is big, her skin is thick but also sensitive in places. We learn where to touch, how to guide, like a quiet language between us.

Dr. Anya Sharma: Uncle Kham’s description aligns with the proper, ethical use from an animal welfare standpoint. When used correctly by a skilled and empathetic mahout, the hook is not a weapon. It’s a communication tool. Mahouts are, or should be, trained to avoid sensitive areas and to use it primarily as a signal or a gentle touch-point, not as an instrument of force. The real harm, which we must unequivocally condemn, comes not from the tool itself, but from its improper use – beating, stabbing, or using it for punishment. This represents a profound failure of care, skill, and ethics, and should never be tolerated. However, and this is a critical point, banning the hook entirely without understanding what will replace it, or what is replacing it in some circumstances, can lead to even worse welfare outcomes. We’ve seen instances where, to appease international audiences demanding “no hooks,” handlers resort to hidden knives, sharpened sticks, or severe psychological coercion, all of which are far more harmful and escape public scrutiny.

Mr. David Chen: But the very fact that a tool can be misused so grievously, and that its use is predicated on controlling an animal that would otherwise not perform such tasks, is precisely the issue. Even if used “gently” in most instances, it’s part of a system of enforced participation. Animal rights activists argue that elephants should not be made to perform, carry tourists, or comply with human routines at all, because doing so denies them their inherent autonomy and dignity. The hook, therefore, is not a neutral tool; it’s part of a system of captivity and coercion that ultimately treats elephants as means to human ends. Our aim is not “better management” of these tools, but liberation from the systems that require them.

Dr. Anya Sharma: The welfare approach focuses on outcomes: is the elephant healthy, mentally stimulated, well-fed, and safe within its current environment? We evaluate not the mere presence or absence of a tool like a hook, but whether its use contributes to—or undermines—that animal’s physical and psychological well-being. Proper, skilled use of the hook is consistent with welfare goals when it supports non-invasive medical care, prevents dangerous emergency escalations, or enables calm, trust-based routines that are familiar to the elephant. International pressure to eliminate hooks, while often well-intentioned, can sometimes have the opposite effect, as I mentioned – forcing handlers into worse practices or creating anxiety for elephants that are no longer guided by familiar, predictable cues. We advocate for rigorous training, strict regulation, and full transparency, not symbolic bans that might make us feel better but don’t actually improve the elephant’s life.

Uncle Kham: What Dr. Anya says about trust is the heart of it. My elephant, she knows the khor. She knows when I pick it up, it means we will walk to the river, or it is time to check her feet for stones. It is not a thing of fear between us. The fear, the harm, comes when a man has a bad heart, or no patience, or no teaching. This is not the fault of the tool, but of the man. In our Lao culture, and in how we live with elephants for many, many years – sometimes a whole lifetime – touch is important. Physical closeness, working together, even guiding them firmly but gently when needed, this is part of living alongside them, not just looking at them from far away. To ban the hook for all mahouts, without understanding this deep relationship, without seeing the skill… it feels like it erases our knowledge, our way of being. It is like someone telling you that you cannot use your own hands to guide your child.

Mr. David Chen: But Uncle Kham, that “guidance” is still within a framework of captivity. The child chooses, as they grow, to follow or not. The elephant does not have that ultimate choice. This is why this debate is not just about elephants; it’s about how power over animals is exercised, justified, and contested in this global field of tourism ethics. While viral media and Western tourism trends are indeed influential in pushing for bans, it comes from a genuine ethical concern about that power dynamic.

Dr. Anya Sharma: And that power dynamic must always be scrutinised. The critical issue is how power is wielded, under what kind of supervision, and within what kind of relationship. Improper use of a hook is an abuse of power. But responsible, skilled use by a mahout who has a deep, respectful bond with an elephant, aimed at ensuring the elephant’s health and safety and that of those around it, is a very different scenario than systemic abuse in an exploitative industry.

Moderator: So, we arrive at a familiar point: the ethical answer seems to depend heavily on the framework one applies.

Dr. Anya Sharma: Precisely. From a welfare view, the hook can be ethically acceptable, even beneficial, when used skillfully, minimally, and for clear, care-related purposes by trained individuals within a transparent system.

Mr. David Chen: From a rights view, the hook is unacceptable – regardless of technique – because it fundamentally represents and enables domination.

Uncle Kham: And from my heart, as a mahout, the khor itself is not the problem. The problem is when there is no trust, no understanding, no patience between the elephant and the human. That is when harm happens, with or without this tool.

Moderator: This leads us to a broader question then, doesn’t it?

Dr. Anya Sharma: Yes. Ultimately, the question should not simply be “Is the hook ethical?” but rather, “How do we build truly ethical relationships with elephants in all contexts where we interact with them?” This means investing seriously in high-quality mahout training and support, ensuring transparency in all management practices, fostering cultural respect for traditional knowledge when it aligns with good welfare, and encouraging open, honest dialogue—rather than resorting to outright bans of tools based on optics or ideology without viable, better alternatives in place.

Uncle Kham: It means learning to see not just the hook, but the hand that holds it—and the life, the spirit, of the elephant it touches.

Mr. David Chen: And for us, it means continuing to question whether those hands, however gentle, should be holding such tools of control over another sentient being in the first place, striving for a future where such relationships of control are no longer deemed necessary or acceptable.

Dr. Anya Sharma: Ethics, like genuine care, is never abstract. It is daily, it is embodied, and it must be relational. And in the complex world of human-elephant interaction, progress begins not by simply condemning what we see from a distance—but by striving to understand the full context, the unseen nuances, and the lived realities of all involved, especially the elephants.

[5] Q: How are elephants trained to interact with humans?