Is That “Ethical” Elephant Sanctuary in Thailand Really Ethical?

Spoiler: Probably not. But also… kind of. Maybe, perhaps just sometimes. Welcome to the murky waters of elephant tourism.

I Thought I Was Doing the Right Thing

I really thought I’d nailed it.

After days of research — scrolling through forums, cross-referencing travel blogs, scrutinizing mission statements (ok maybe not this one) — I found what I believed was a genuinely ethical elephant sanctuary in Thailand. No rides, no shows, just rescued elephants living out their days in peace. The website promised freedom, rehabilitation, and love.

I went.

They gave us sugarcane to feed the elephants. Told us we could touch them. Even bathe with them. There were photos, laughter, water splashing. Everyone seemed happy.

Except something didn’t sit right with me.

Because if I’m in the water with an elephant, posing for a photo… is this still a sanctuary? Would the elephant have blown water out of its trunk had the mahouts not prompted it?

That’s when something shifted.

This wasn’t an observation. This wasn’t letting elephants just be. This was interaction.

And interaction, I realized, still serves the tourist, not the elephant.

The Problem: “Ethical” Doesn’t Always Mean Ethical

Let’s be clear: not all elephant sanctuaries in Thailand are created equal. Many call themselves ethical, but that label has no legal meaning. It’s a marketing term.

You’ll find so-called sanctuaries that still allow riding, performances, painting, even elephants playing football. These are, of course, obviously harmful to the animals, and it’s now a widely known fact that they suffer both during the performance and behind closed doors.

But it’s not so clear cut, at least in the popular opinion, what our stance as humanity should be when it comes to all other animal-tourist interactions. Should we allow touching? Bathing without touching? What about just looking at them from 10 meters? Not enough? How far is enough? Or is even observing with binoculars already too much?

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: if an elephant is doing something because you paid to be there, you have to ask: Is the animal really free?

If your presence changes the elephant’s behavior — if they’re bathing with or for you, but resting the moment you leave — it’s not truly freedom. It’s performance in disguise.

That doesn’t automatically mean it’s unethical, but the more you think about it and present (even just hypothetical) examples, the more unclear animal ethics become. Can we even apply our human morals to animals?

It’s convoluted. Throughout this article, I’ve tried to present multiple sides and play devil’s advocate often. This is because ethics itself is not absolute truth – our malleable values shape it, and it changes over time.

What is ethical for you is not necessarily ethical for others. What is ethical today will not necessarily be ethical tomorrow.

Moreover, the counterfactual is just as important. If sanctuaries like this one are to release these elephants in the wild tomorrow, the animals will surely die, and pretty quickly at that. So we have another ethical dilemma – support the perpetuation of elephant sanctuaries where the animals live but not their intended, wild lives, or release them and let them suffer, naturally, in the great outdoors.

Even when I explained all sides of my visit to the elephant sanctuary to friends, they would still split down the middle as to whether it was an ethical experience.

It’s just not that simple. Ethics is not a hard science, and there are no absolutes.

Elephants: Domesticated, Rescued, Captive or Wild?

Before 1989, there were few elephant sanctuaries in Thailand. Elephants were either wild or captive, the latter were used to haul timber for the forestry industry.

The turning point? Thailand’s logging ban in 1989. It was a huge environmental win, but it left thousands of elephants and their mahouts (caretakers) jobless. Many transitioned into the burgeoning tourism industry: rides, circuses, tricks, and selfies.

Can you blame them? They had to make a living, one way or another. It’s easy to take the moral high ground when your livelihood doesn’t depend on it, but when your head is on the block, ethics are suddenly not that important.

Moreover, these were elephants without natural survival skills. They no longer knew how to forage, avoid predators, or integrate into wild herds. Releasing them now would likely mean a fast death. That adds yet another twist to the ethics debate.

These “circuses”, because this is the closest to what they were, either disappeared or morphed into something else over the next 30 years. The average tourist became more aware, and you know how it is – demand drives supply, at least in tourism.

They morphed into sanctuaries. A sort of compromise between those who exploited elephants and those who wanted them not to, at least not openly. 

To this day, most elephants in Thai sanctuaries are not wild elephants. They’re “domesticated”, which, in this case, means they were captured or born into human control. This is to be taken with a giant pinch of salt – this is not the same domestication as cats’ or dogs’, which happened over thousands of years. I, and others, are merely borrowing the word, perhaps misleadingly.

Be sceptical when you read that a sanctuary has “rescued elephants from captivity”. Nearly all advertise that, but there is little proof and zero accountability. False advertising or malicious misleading – I will let you decide.

Long story short:

• Domesticated: Misnomer term.
• Rescued: probably not. Even if true, so what? They continue to live in captivity, just in a different form. Though some say it’s better than being outright abused, and the counterfactual is death in the wild anyway, so who knows?
• Captive: If you pay to interact with the elephant, then it’s captive (not truly free). That’s my definition, at least.
• Wild: Estimates suggest 3000-4000 wild elephants in Thailand. Truly wild elephants. Down from 50.000 in the 1950s. You paying to see “wild” elephants is possible, but in very few places in Thailand.

Can Sanctuaries Survive Without Tourists?

This is another big moral dilemma. And the answer, unfortunately, is no. Or at least, not many.

Elephants eat up to 150 kilograms of food per day. They need constant medical care, dedicated staff, acres of space, and 24/7 protection. A legitimate sanctuary might spend $1,000–$2,000+ per elephant per month.

Without government funding, most rely on visitors.

That’s why bathing and feeding are allowed. Not necessarily because they’re good for the elephants, but because they pay the bills.

Can’t People Just Donate Instead?

In theory? Great idea.

In reality? Donations without visitor interaction rarely sustain a sanctuary. People are far more likely to give if they’ve had a personal, emotional moment with an elephant. It’s flawed, but it’s human nature.

So sanctuaries strike a compromise: they minimize harm while maximizing funding. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than the alternative for elephants that can’t return to the wild.

We’d like to think so, though the truth is that most people donate after they’ve seen the elephants, touched one, and made that personal, emotional connection.

Humans give more when they feel something. And often, that means contact.

So again, we’re stuck in a system that relies on compromise: small harms for long-term survival.

Don’t Forget the Mahouts

Mahouts — elephant caretakers — are part of this ethical equation. Many come from families who’ve worked with elephants for generations. When tourism is cut off, so is their income.

Ethical sanctuaries also pay and train mahouts fairly, so they can care for elephants without resorting to outdated, harmful practices.

What Actually Makes a Sanctuary Ethical?

Full disclaimer: I believe ethics is a lot more complicated than most make it seem. A sanctuary can feel ethical to some and unethical to others. For the sake of a baseline, I will set aside this epistemological idea and present some tips on what I believe makes better sanctuaries.

• No Riding or Tricks: non-negotiable.
• Limited to No Direct Contact: Ethical sanctuaries will not let you touch, bathe, or hug elephants. Observation from a distance is ideal.
• Observation From a Distance: Watch. Don’t interfere.
• Large, Natural Spaces: Elephants need room to roam, forage, and socialize naturally.
• No Breeding: Ethical sanctuaries don’t breed elephants — it keeps them in captivity.
• Transparent Financials and Medical Care: Ask where your money goes. Look for vet clinics, not photo booths.
• Education Over Entertainment: Do they teach you something about conservation, or just let you take pictures?

Ethical Sanctuaries in Thailand Worth Knowing

These are widely respected for their hands-off, elephant-first approach:

• Elephant Nature Park (Chiang Mai): Large-scale, no-contact, focused on observation (from a SkyWalk) and education.
• Boon Lott’s Elephant Sanctuary (BLES, Sukhothai): Small and intimate, prioritizing elephant autonomy. The mission statement focused on rescue and protection in a safe and natural environment.
• Phuket Elephant Sanctuary: One of the first facilities in southern Thailand to almost fully abstain from contact (just brief “ethical” feeding)

Are they perfect? Probably not. But they are again and again praised by travelers and animal advocates for their ethical practices.

So… Should You Visit an Elephant Sanctuary?

That depends on your reasons and your worldview.

Let’s say you’re hoping to get an Instagram-worthy elephant hug, but after reading this guide, you find contact to be unacceptable – then perhaps you shouldn’t go.

If you’re willing to observe from a distance, to learn, and to support real conservation? Then maybe. Just maybe. If you can pick the right sanctuary that aligns with your morals and ideas of what’s right and what’s wrong.

It’s been a few months (as of writing this) since I went to a “not-so-ethical” sanctuary. I have thought and rethought my experience and talked at length with others about it. I still cannot definitively say if my visit was unethical (yes, contact, photos, feeding, bathing, and all).

Is this cognitive dissonance? Am I lying to myself after the fact? I wish to think that I am an introspective and rational thinker, so I hope not. Yet, I still don’t feel guilty.

Maybe you won’t either, so even that elephant-human hug shouldn’t be demonized, in which case, why not?

Hope for the Future?

Education and Awareness

Maybe.

If we build stronger local communities, educate tourists, and support conservation programs, then maybe the next generation of elephants won’t need sanctuaries.

The wild is where they belong. Not in shows. Not in temples. Not in my travel photos.

Visiting elephant sanctuaries in Thailand presents an ethical conundrum. While some establishments make commendable efforts to care for rescued elephants, others continue practices that compromise their well-being.

As travelers, it’s our responsibility to research thoroughly and advocate for the protection of elephants.

But if there is anything you should take from this article, it’s:

• to be extremely wary of confident claims that a sanctuary is ethical (there is no such thing as absolute ethics)
• to take others’ moral views with a pinch of salt (they shouldn’t necessarily be yours too), and
• to try to have your actions do at least as much good as you derive from the experience.