Loose Notes, Serious Questions

Fragile worlds: Rethinking orangutan rehabilitation

Orangutan mother and baby in jungle habitat, representing orangutan rehabilitation, conservation and the fragility of endangered species.
Photo by Dimitry B on Unsplash
Key takeaway: Orangutan rehabilitation raises difficult questions about care, captivity and conservation. Drawing on Juno Salazar Parreñas’ Decolonizing Extinction, this blog explores how conservation can reproduce unequal power relations, even when it appears compassionate, and why human intervention does not always mean freedom.

Introduction

Orangutans are disappearing slowly, through the cumulative effects of habitat loss, captivity, displacement and human intervention.

In this context, orangutan rehabilitation appears, at first glance, to be an obvious good. Orphaned or displaced orangutans are cared for, fed, monitored, and, where possible, prepared for release into the forest. Yet in Decolonizing Extinction (2018), Juno Salazar Parreñas asks us to reconsider this assumption.

Through her study of orangutan rehabilitation in Sarawak, Malaysia, Parreñas shows that conservation is not only about compassion but also about power.

The daily work of caring for orangutans can foster emotional bonds between humans and animals. Yet these relationships remain unequal because humans continue to decide how orangutans live, move, breed and, in some cases, die.

These ideas matter because they unsettle a comforting conservation narrative: that human intervention is always benevolent and that saving a species is always the same as caring for the animals themselves.

Why orangutan rehabilitation is ethically complicated

Parreñas argues that interspecies relationships are always shaped by unequal political power relations, even when they appear compassionate or caring.

In Malaysian orangutan rehabilitation centres, conservation workers engage in what she describes as the “work of care”, including cleaning enclosures, bonding with orphaned orangutans, and transporting juvenile orangutans between cages and forest enclosures. These moments of direct contact can foster a powerful emotional connection for workers and volunteer tourists alike.

Yet despite the emotional intensity of these interactions, the relationship remains deeply unequal because humans retain control over the orangutans’ lives.

Colonial histories of conservation

The historical roots of this unequal relationship are closely connected to colonialism.

Parreñas discusses the work of Barbara Harrison, a British colonial woman who cared for orphaned orangutans in Malaysia during the colonial era. Harrison’s rehabilitation practices were experimental and improvised, yet they carried authority due to her colonial social position.

Importantly, Parreñas suggests that these early rehabilitation projects were not entirely different from those used today. Both colonial and postcolonial conservation systems involve humans exercising power over vulnerable animals under the guise of care and protection.

Parreñas extends this argument by suggesting that both orangutans and Indigenous workers at Malaysian rehabilitation centres experience a form of “arrested autonomy”.

Indigenous workers may possess valuable cultural and environmental knowledge gained through close interaction with nature, yet this expertise is often overlooked by urban scientists or foreign conservationists. At the same time, many Indigenous communities have been displaced from rainforest environments by deforestation and economic development.

The meaning of bebas

This idea of limited freedom is further explored through the Malay concept of “bebas”, meaning freedom or independence.

Rehabilitation centres aim to return orangutans to the wild so they can become truly bebas.

However, many orangutans raised in captivity have become too dependent on humans to survive independently in the wild. Having spent years around humans, they often lose the instinctive fear needed for survival in the wild.

The problem with “tough love”

One of the most confronting aspects of the book is its discussion of “tough love” in orangutan rehabilitation.

Workers often believe that emotional distance and harsh treatment are necessary to prepare orangutans for survival in the wild. These practices can include isolation, punishment, and forced breeding programs to increase the population in captivity. Parreñas challenges the ethical assumptions underpinning these practices by asking whether preserving a species justifies lives shaped by captivity, coercion, and suffering.

Slow violence and ecological decline

This critique becomes particularly powerful through the concept of slow violence.

Drawing on the work of Rob Nixon, Parreñas describes extinction as a slow, attritional process rather than a sudden catastrophe. Orangutans are gradually losing habitat to logging, palm oil plantations, highways, and mining projects. This destruction occurs quietly and continuously, often escaping public attention despite its devastating consequences.

Rethinking conservation without abandoning care

Ultimately, Parreñas argues that decolonising conservation and extinction requires confronting the colonial assumptions that underpin modern conservation.

Rather than continuing a conservationist “civilising mission”, humans may need to reconsider whether intervention always benefits endangered species.

This does not mean abandoning care for nature. It means recognising that care can also entail control, coercion and unequal power. From there, we can begin to imagine more ethical ways of living alongside ecological decline.

The challenge, then, is not only to protect endangered species but also to tell their stories in ways that reveal the unequal power relations that shape conservation.

– Marshall, Brisbane, May 2026

Scroll to Top