Just a few years before he would be sprung from the Central Park Zoo by unknown vandals, Flaco and I met once before. My family was in town for a visit and in search of an outdoor-ish activity during covid times. The Central Park Zoo seemed like a good idea. As a lifelong animal lover and bird-obsessive, I’ve always loved going to the zoo. And at the zoo, I’ve always been a zoo completionist. And so I protested as my family dragged me by the arm out of the zoo, past the the penguin house and then finally by the eagle-owl exhibit, right by the exit.
“But–the owl…” I trailed off. But my family was over it. We’d been at the zoo for several hours and by all accounts had seen 98% of the animals. “Haven’t you seen that one before?” My mother said. “Every zoo has an eagle-owl,” my dad scoffed.
They were right. I had seen lots of Eurasian eagle-owls at a lot of zoos, including a pair at the zoo I interned at. Everyone has an eagle-owl. Every zoo has some dinky little mews with turf-covered perches and netting draped over the roof, plus maybe some logs for decor. On exhibit the owls sit there, stock still, watching you watch them. They’re not a particularly entertaining bird, but the zoo isn’t for entertainment, not in my book.
Flash-forward to February 2023. The unthinkable has happened: some vandals sneak into the Central Park zoo and slash open Flaco’s exhibit, releasing the owl into the night. He flies onto fifth avenue, evades the NYPD, and settles into Hallett Nature Sanctuary in the southeast corner of the Park. In the two weeks since Flaco was criminally released, a lot has gone down.
The Central Park Zoo, managed by the Wildlife Conservation Society (WCS), springs into action and actively monitor Flaco. The NYC birding scene immediately picks up the scent and are on Flaco’s tailfeathers. Orchestrated by David Barrett (the Harvard-educated mastermind behind @ManhattanBirdAlert on twitter), the birding blob follow Flaco’s every move–much to the chagrin of zoo staff, whose concerns are voiced here by Jim Breheny, the director of the Bronx zoo.
Because I’ve been indoctrinated by wildlife conservation propaganda like Jack Hanna and The Crocodile Hunter, I’ve always felt that the purpose of a zoo in the modern world is to educate and conserve. Growing up, one of my favorite zoos to visit was the Baltimore Zoo (officially, the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore). As a kid I was struck by one exhibit in particular–a concrete slab with a porcelain bathtub in it, the whole enclosure circled by iron bars. There were no animals on display.
Confused, my parents explained to me that the exhibit we were looking at was an example of an old enclosure from a bygone era of zoo-going. At one time some poor tiger or bear was forced to pace around the slab–no bed, no shelter, no area away from the eyes of the public. I suppose it could go for a bath, at least.
The contrast between the empty slab and the exhibits around it was fabulous–there were all these other animals surrounded with greenery (kudzu, mainly), in enclosures that at least vaguely resembled the habitats they would be found in naturally. There was an impression that there was at least an effort to replicate how these creatures might live in the wild.
Originally built as a menagerie in the 1800s, the Central Park Zoo has come a long, long way. And while it may physically bear some resemblance to a zoo of a bygone era, everyone in the wildlife conservation field knows you gotta work with what you have. And despite the zoo’s shortcomings, either physically or in terms of resources, you do get the impression that the Central Park Zoo (and the WCS) make an effort. They’re accredited by the AZA for crying out loud–you don’t get that without making an effort.
Back to Flaco. Freely flying around Central Park–everyone is worried that he’s gonna starve to death. Having lived in captivity for 13 years, it’s not clear that Flaco will be able to feed himself. In the meantime, zoo staff continue their efforts to capture, impeded by the occasional or constant (sources vary) camera flash or loose dog.
After a few days, and ratcheting tensions with Manhattan Bird Alert and his Twitter followers, the zoo staff pivot. Flaco has since been documented catching and eating a rat, so we know he’s at least not going to starve just yet. Feeling some relief, the zoo staff take a few nights off to study Flaco’s behavior and strategize.
Flash-forward to: last night. Whispers reverberate throughout the birding community that zoo staff will again try again to capture Flaco. Sensing he may lose his latest “birdlebrity,” David Barret takes a stand.
Manhattan Bird Alert begins to document the Zoo’s attempts to capture their captive-reared, nonnative eagle-owl, which, again I’ll remind you, was criminally released from his enclosure by goons. Editorializing these events and posting minute-by-minute updates on Zoo staff as though he were documenting the a car chase, Manhattan Bird Alert punctuates each of these tweets with a new hashtag: #FreeFlaco.
Each tweet is met with an outpouring of support, plus the scolding of a few vocal critics (myself included).
At the time of writing this newsletter, hundreds have signed onto a deranged petition, urging the Zoo to either let their eagle-owl live free or send him to a sanctuary (I’m not sure what sanctuary this would be, as I mentioned above everyone already has an eagle-owl).
Now that we are all caught up on this latest and unsurprisingly emotionally-charged episode of New York City bird drama, let’s talk about what it all means. Here are my main thoughts:
David Barrett is a lot more influential than the traditional/legacy conservation groups would like to admit. He can say whatever he wants without being checked, and has a large enough following that he can remain insulated from criticism on Twitter. David Barrett represents a particular type of birder and his platform allows him to broadcast his values to a huge audience of bird lovers. This leads me to my second point…
People are idiots. Wait, don’t stop reading! People are idiots BUT they have big hearts. As I grew up, I eventually realized that most people do go to the zoo to be entertained. This doesn’t make them bad people, but it does mean that they probably didn’t read all the signs on the exhibits. So they may not have the tools to understand why it could be bad idea to let the top avian predator in Eurasia live in Central Park forever. But see, that’s not the kind of stuff Manhattan Bird Alert is tweeting about!
It’s the disinformation age, baby. We live in a post-truth era, a time where anyone can say anything they want on or offline, and it can have real-life implications, no matter how stupid. The #FreeFlaco hashtag is a great example. With the exception of David Barrett, who seems singularly focused on growing his influence, everyone who has signed that petition’s heart is in the right place, but their understanding of the situation is elementary.
Keeping Flaco “free” won’t be good for Flaco, it won’t be good for the Park, and it won’t be good for the Zoo. Everyone loses. There are hundreds of scenarios where this goes wrong. Flaco could be poisoned, like Barry was. He could be attacked by other birds of prey. He could be hit by a car, again, like Barry, or this other captive-raised eagle-owl.
In captivity, Flaco could live another 40 years. He could make sweet music with a lady eagle-owl and represent his species as an ambassador. No chance he makes it that long in Central Park. And he definitely won’t be siring any eagle-owlets.
And then there are all the ways it could go wrong for the Park. Eagle-owls are named after two very strong and cool birds of prey. Why? Because they’re so fricken powerful! They can prey on animals up to the size of a small deer. They’ve taken dogs and cats, and hunt more than 300 species of birds, ranging in size from a kinglet to a goose. They have an incredibly diverse diet and once Flaco’s moved on from rats, he could do some serious damage to the ecosystem of the park. We’re talking small mammals yes, pigeons and ducks, sure, but also migratory birds and even other owls.
None of this information is getting through, however. Everyone who knows all this, already knows. And there’s not a succinct place–certainly not this newsletter, which is getting longer by the minute–for anyone to learn all this. It’s taken a lifetime of me seeing dozens of eagle-owls at dozens of zoos to relay the message. If your only source of bird content is from some Harvard grad’s pet project, there’s a lot you’re going to miss.
None of this is to say that there’s nothing left for me to learn. For me, pro-zoo, anti-Manhattan Bird Alert, there’s something to be said about appreciating the eagle-owl.
Despite the circus surrounding this eagle-owl in particular, it is clear to me that even an eagle-owl, found in hundreds of zoos across America, shouldn’t be an afterthought in a zoo’s stock.
Now that we’ve seen Flaco in the wild—even the wilds of Central Park—roosting, hunting, and otherwise engaging in natural behaviors we might not see on exhibit, it’s clear that captive owls deserve better. It’s neither an owl nor a zoo’s job to entertain us, but there has to be a better way for us to learn about these birds—in a way that’s neither an afterthought nor or a circus.
I hope Flaco is eventually captured, but when he is returned to his enclosure, I want more for him. Perhaps a large aviary, like the other birds at the Central Park Zoo have. These weird few weeks have taught me not to take an eagle-owl for granted. The bird tucked away by the exit of the zoo, the guy you take a look at as you’re yanked through the gate, a footnote. That’s the top avian predator in Eurasia. What is the best way to exhibit that?
Very well written and thoughtful article! Good for you, Andrew!
Such a great article! Interesting turn of events.