After visiting dozens of aquariums across China, vlogger Wu Zhuolin came to a stark conclusion: the nation’s fish aren’t doing too well in captivity.

A lifelong enthusiast of aquatic life, Wu began a nationwide tour of aquariums in late 2023. After each visit, he posts a short video on social media, offering a frank assessment of the attraction’s strengths and weaknesses.

What he often finds are large species crammed into tanks too small for them; overfeeding by visitors or staff, leading to fatal bloating; and even fish that have been “given tattoos” to enhance their aesthetic value.

Today, Wu has some 1 million followers online, many of whom have expressed shock at the shoddy standards he has exposed at China’s growing assortment of aquariums.

In the swell

China has an estimated 300 aquariums, approximately 60% of which were built since 2010. Initially, such facilities were mostly for scientific research and public education, but over time the focus shifted to commercial entertainment, with cities looking to stimulate tourism.

“Most of the problems plaguing China’s aquariums can be traced to the industry’s overly rapid development,” says Shi Zhe, founder of the Asian Academy of Aquarium Technology, a Chinese NGO that brings together researchers, academics, and industry professionals.

But what exactly are the problems?

Wu, a former exhibition space designer based in Zhengzhou, capital of the central Henan province, started his online career by posting educational videos about ornamental fish. More than just a passing interest, he’s done extensive research on how various aquatic species should be housed and fed, as well as some common diseases.

According to the findings of his ongoing tour, the biggest challenges are water quality and temperature, to which many species are highly sensitive. For example, at one aquarium, Wu says he found that saltwater fish were dying in water that had three times the required salinity level. He asked a staff member whether they tested the tanks for salinity, pH level, or other metrics, and was told, “We only measure the temperature.”

There’s also a space issue. He discovered one Chinese giant salamander — a species that can grow to at least 60 centimeters — housed in a tank barely longer than its body. It also had a rough, concrete floor, rather than the fine sand or pebbles recommended for the creature’s sensitive skin.

Conditions for aquatic mammals at many attractions are also poor, largely due to the widespread practice of live performances, which help bring in crowds to cover operational costs.

Wu says he has seen dolphins forced to pull boats, their bodies bearing rope burns from the harnesses, and orcas made to beach themselves on concrete platforms. “Aquariums could replace circus-style tricks with demonstrations of natural animal behavior,” he suggests. “They could showcase their hunting and survival skills, such as having a beluga whale surfacing for air or breaking ice.”

The vlogger has identified many non-life-threatening problems, too, including misleading or erroneous descriptions of species’ characteristics, behaviors, and appetites.

When our reporter joined Wu for a visit to Underwater World Xiamen, in the eastern Fujian province, he spotted a sign beside an enclosure holding hawksbill sea turtles, a critically endangered animal, that said the marine reptiles primarily feed on fish, mollusks, and seaweed, and have fierce temperaments. “But that’s wrong,” he notes. “Their primary food source is sponges, and they’re generally docile.”

Some netizens have accused Wu of being pedantic, but he believes science education is a core function of an aquarium, especially when it comes to informing young minds.

“Children care whether the information is correct,” he insists. At the Zhengzhou Aquarium, which invited Wu back for a second visit after he flagged a series of errors, he recorded a video with an 8-year-old boy who pointed to a sign and said, “This was ‘freshwater shark’ before, but it’s been changed to ‘iridescent shark catfish.’ It didn’t look like a shark to me — it lacks the typical characteristics of a real shark.”

In recent years, more businesses have been inviting Wu to run the rule over their operations, but he only accepts if they agree to an objective review that highlights the good and the bad. Few ever get back to him. He believes only public scrutiny will drive change in China’s aquariums.

Refusing advice

Wang Ding, who has been designing aquarium layouts for years, says many staff members at such facilities actually hope video exposés like Wu’s will force their companies into action.

He once joined Wu on a visit to an aquarium where a manager was itching to point out issues, saying, “Look, this fish is dying — film it.” He had a degree in aquaculture, yet the park’s owner had no industry background and had insisted on interactive feeding programs without controlling how much visitors could give, causing fatal bloating.

“The manager genuinely wanted to run the aquarium well, but his hands were tied,” Wang says, adding that he has found most investors in aquariums lack professional knowledge and are even resistant to expert advice.

China’s aquariums are predominantly private enterprises, with investment sources including foreign capital, real estate companies, and former animal performance troupes.

Shi says that construction of a large-scale aquarium should take at least five years. Wild-caught fish need time to acclimate to an artificial environment, while cycling — adding beneficial bacteria and live plants to a new tank to increase its biological filtration capacity — is a time-consuming process, with superlarge tanks taking six months or more.

However, due to the industry’s now profit-driven nature, he says rushed openings are common. Many exhibition spaces are still chaotic construction zones the day before the grand opening, with tanks filled with fresh saltwater just hours before the first batch of fish is introduced. These so-called “pioneer fish” — usually cheaper species — often die within a short time.

Most of the country’s aquarium fish are bred in captivity or sourced from abundant wild populations, rather than species officially recognized as endangered.

The welfare of aquatic animals in China is overseen by the Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs. To display a nationally protected species, a business needs to apply for a permit and meet strict requirements on accommodation. However, for animals not on the protected list, they are essentially no different from those sold at markets.

In 2017, Guo Rui, then a divisional director in the ministry’s bureau of fisheries, complained that the industry’s rapid expansion — particularly the influx of companies with no prior experience — had left technical expertise and management struggling to keep pace, leading to frequent injuries and death among aquatic animals.

Shao Ran, founder of the animal welfare group Voice for the Voiceless and a former animal trainer, feels that a lack of oversight has allowed aquariums to put profit ahead of welfare. “No matter how much the animals suffered, no matter the risk to the trainers, the show went on. Revenue couldn’t be affected,” she says, reflecting on her own experience.

Out of their depth

Back in the ’90s, aquariums had the support of advanced foreign expertise, and performed well in terms of display effects, design, construction, and management. High salaries also attracted a large pool of professional talent.

“It might be hard to believe, but 30 years ago the overall standard of Chinese aquariums was very high,” says Shi with a sigh.

However, the supply of qualified professionals failed to match the rapid expansion in demand, with even entry-level keepers sometimes being headhunted to run new aquariums. Shi describes China’s first generation of keepers as mostly demobilized soldiers, blue-collar workers, and hobbyists — they had basic operational skills but were ill-equipped to manage complex, large-scale facilities.

Before becoming a whale trainer, Shao had only basic knowledge of swimming, diving, equipment operation, and preparing medication, and was given no specialized training in animal behavior. Looking at new trainers today, she says, “Their understanding of animal welfare is usually stuck at that rudimentary level.”

To raise standards, Shi’s academy has regularly held training sessions since 2018 on industry technology and business management. Yet, he finds that investors and general managers are more concerned with macro-strategy and revenue, paying little attention to technical details.

“At the end of the day, most aquariums are private businesses. Problems created by the market need to be solved by the market,” he adds.

Natural bond

Wang, who was a volunteer guide at an aquarium, suggests businesses should invest more in guide services, as engaging visitors with detailed, valuable information on exhibitions not only enriches the experience but also can stimulate spending beyond the admission ticket.

Shao agrees, as she feels public perception will play a crucial part in the industry’s future. During her outreach work, she’s discovered a generally skewed view of aquariums and live animal shows.

“People see them merely as entertainment and fail to understand the meaning of animal welfare, ecological conservation, and science education,” she says, adding that live performances remain the major draw for most paying customers.

“While books and documentaries are excellent ways to learn about marine life, an aquarium that incorporates rescue, conservation, and public welfare provides children with a richer and more intuitive educational experience,” she explains. “It can greatly inspire their interest and love for marine life.”

Shi adds that the best aquariums go even beyond imparting scientific knowledge — they inspire artistic creativity and nurture emotional bonds with the natural world.

Reported by Zhu Yawen and Mu Yuxing.

A version of this article originally appeared in Original (Jiefang Daily). It has been translated and edited for brevity and clarity, and is republished here with permission.

Translator: Chen Yue; contributions: Liang Hao; editors: Wang Juyi and Hao Qibao.

(Header image: A screenshot from Wu Zhuolin’s video showing fish that have been “tattooed” at an aquarium in Chongqing. From Bilibili)