A: It depends on who is asking, and from which ethical and cultural framework. The idea that working elephants must be “rescued” or excluded from “real” conservation reflects not only moral concern, but also Western-centric assumptions about nature, labor, and purity.
In Southeast Asia—especially in Laos—elephants have historically lived with people, not apart from them. They are not simply wildlife taken into captivity, but long-term companions in forest-based livelihoods, cultural rituals, and village life. To ask whether they are “eligible” for rescue or conservation is to presuppose a divide between wild and domestic, natural and human-made, that does not always apply here. Let’s explore this from three perspectives:
1. Animal Welfare: Assessing Conditions, Not Origins
From an animal welfare standpoint, the focus is on the physical and psychological wellbeing of each elephant—regardless of whether it works with humans or not. An elephant’s needs for exercise, nutrition, medical care, social interaction, rest, and freedom from pain are paramount.
Working elephants can thrive if their routines are carefully managed. Welfare-based conservation does not automatically oppose human-elephant relationships. Rather, it seeks to improve the quality of those relationships, whether in tourism, forestry, or semi-wild contexts.
Rescue is warranted when elephants suffer from malnutrition, abuse, overwork, or isolation—not simply because they perform tasks with humans. Similarly, conservation should include all elephants whose lives matter, not just those deemed “wild enough” by international standards.
Animal welfare ethics push back against purity-based exclusions and emphasize individual well-being over symbolic categories.
2. Animal Rights: Labor Equals Exploitation
Animal rights advocates often argue that any form of elephant labor—including tourism or ceremonial work—is a violation of autonomy. From this perspective, elephants working for humans are inherently victims, regardless of the quality of care or cultural context.
“Rescue” becomes a moral imperative: to liberate the elephant from subjugation and control. “Conservation” means restoring a nonhuman world free from human interference.
This view has gained global visibility through NGO campaigns, media coverage, and tourist preferences. However, it often relies on idealized visions of wilderness, assumes a sharp divide between nature and culture, and may ignore how elephants actually live in Laos, Thailand, or Myanmar—often embedded in long-term relationships with humans.
By asserting that only non-working elephants are worth saving, this perspective can marginalize both elephants and people whose lives don’t fit the Western conservation ideal.
3. Laotian Mahouts: Relational Care Beyond Binaries
From the viewpoint of many Laotian mahouts and elephant owners, the question is misplaced. Working with elephants is not inherently abusive; it is a form of relational labor developed through generations of knowledge, adaptation, and cohabitation.
Elephants in Laos have long contributed to forest livelihoods, ceremonial life, and local economies—not as tools, but as companions in a shared world. Their welfare matters deeply, but this care is grounded in proximity, familiarity, and practical responsibility—not in abstraction or detachment.
Mahouts do not typically divide elephants into “wild” or “captive,” “free” or “enslaved.” Instead, they understand them as individuals with histories and temperaments, requiring tailored care and mutual respect. Many would say that elephants working ethically with humans deserve just as much conservation effort as those roaming in distant national parks.
This perspective resists the idea that eligibility for rescue or conservation depends on conforming to Western ideals. It instead insists on place-based ethics—where elephant welfare is embedded in relationships, not judged from afar.
Challenging the Question Itself
The question—“Are elephants working for humans eligible for rescue and conservation?”—carries with it the weight of Western conservation ideology: that real nature is separate from people, that labor is inherently exploitative, and that rescue means removal from human contexts.
But in Laos, the traditional human-elephant relationship and vision of convivial conservation offers another way. Here, elephants and humans live in dynamic, interdependent relationships. Conservation is not about isolation, but about making those relationships more just, more respectful, and more sustainable.
Conclusion: Inclusion, Not Erasure
Yes—working elephants can and should be included in both rescue and conservation efforts. But not because they are laboring animals in need of salvation. Rather, because they are living beings with histories, relationships, and futures that matter.
We must avoid turning conservation into a purity contest that excludes elephants (and people) who don’t fit an ideal. True ethics asks:
- What kind of life does this elephant live now?
- What kind of care is possible here?
- Whose values define what counts as “natural” or worth conserving?
Let us not confuse working with suffering, or conservation with separation. In the Laotian context, elephants are not just remnants of the wild. They are co-workers, companions, and kin. And that, too, is a life worth protecting.
