When thinking of orcas, the first two things that come to mind are their majestic beauty and their incredible intelligence. These traits have made these mammals known and loved by millions of people, but unfortunately they have also led some (who probably confuse "intelligent" with "trainable") to try to profit from their charm.

From the 1960s to today, those who have borne the cost of this "questionable" business are not only the orcas, unjustly deprived of their freedom, but also the trainers—victims of countless, even fatal, attacks. In view of these incidents, many have asked: "If human attacks are so frequent in aquatic parks, why have they never been recorded in the wild?"

Although the life of captive orcas (like that of all other animals) has always been subject to harsh criticism, recent research into their intelligence is further fueling the debate. It appears that their cognitive and emotional capacities are so developed that they feel a sense of unease and suffering when forced to live in the confined tanks of aquatic parks. This very unease might be the cause of their unnatural hostility toward humans.

For years, the scientific community has agreed that, in intellectual terms, orcas are the animal kingdom’s creatures most akin to humans. This thesis has been reinforced by recent studies that discovered a part of their brain is sensitive to emotions and self-awareness.

The presence of this brain area—absent even in human beings—is unequivocal proof that these "marine giants" are capable of feeling not only physical pain, but also emotional pain… just like us!

Another important consideration concerns male orcas with a dorsal fin that, according to researchers, may collapse after collisions with other individuals or as a result of stress. Data collected over the years to analyze this anatomical phenomenon leave little room for interpretation: while in the wild this problem affects only about 1% of males, in captivity it is common to all, likely due to the sadness they feel under such conditions.

Additional evidence supporting the "human-like" similarity of orcas has emerged from behavioral studies of pods. These studies have shown the natural tendency of orcas to develop social structures so complex that they can only be compared to human ones. Valid examples include the deep family bonds that unite them and the fact that every pod has its own communicative code—a true "dialect" used exclusively among themselves.

All these discoveries further strengthen the rejection and condemnation of confining orcas in captivity. And if those who profit economically from this activity once justified it by claiming that such a practice had no negative consequences on the orcas’ mental health and that attacks on trainers in captivity were merely "unpredictable accidents," in light of these new findings such justification can no longer be credible—because it is undeniable that "imprisonment" inflicts significant mental suffering on orcas.

After all, how would you feel if someone forcibly locked you up in prison without you having done anything?