Reflections from Sally Hamilton, ORCA CEO.
At a time when much of the world is moving away from keeping dolphins in captivity, a new proposal in Belgium risks dragging the debate backwards.
In the Walloon region, the government is considering reauthorising dolphinariums as part of a revision to its Animal Welfare Code reopening the door to facilities that had previously been banned in 2018. For animal welfare organisations, this is not a technical adjustment. It is a clear step in the wrong direction.
What makes this moment particularly striking is that Belgium’s position on dolphin captivity is already deeply contradictory.
In Flanders, the country’s last dolphinarium, Boudewijn Seapark in Bruges has been ordered to close, but not until 2037. Until then, it continues to operate as a commercial attraction, offering dolphin presentations and close encounters to visitors. In other words, even where Belgium has acknowledged the problems with captivity, it has chosen to extend the life of the practice for more than a decade.
Now, with Wallonia considering reauthorisation, that contradiction becomes even more pronounced.
Taken together, these decisions risk positioning Belgium not as a country moving beyond dolphin captivity, but as one still willing to accommodate it, extending, excusing or repackaging it rather than drawing a clear line.
This matters because the scientific case is already well established. Dolphins are highly intelligent, social animals, capable of travelling vast distances each day and diving to significant depths. Confinement in artificial tanks cannot replicate these conditions. The result is often chronic stress, abnormal behaviours, and reduced welfare.
Globally, the direction of travel is clear. Countries including India and Costa Rica have banned dolphin captivity outright, while genuine sanctuary models are emerging in sea-based environments that prioritise space, complexity and animal autonomy.
Against that backdrop, proposals to reauthorise dolphinariums - even if framed as modernised or improved - feel increasingly out of step.
There is also a deeper question about language and intent. Facilities may be presented as educational, or even as a form of sanctuary. But a concrete tank inside a zoo is not a sanctuary. True sanctuaries are sea-based, offering animals a chance to experience something closer to a natural life.
I undertook my MSc research on captive dolphin behaviour at the Seapark dolphinarium in Bruges, studying stereotypical patterns - the repetitive behaviours that emerge when animals are unable to express their natural lives.
What I witnessed has never left me.
As soon as the music started and the doors opened to the public, the dolphins’ behaviour would shift almost instantly. They would begin swimming in tight, rapid circles, over and over again - a kind of frantic, anticipatory looping that felt less like performance and more like compulsion. It was clear that this wasn’t natural behaviour. It was learned, conditioned, and deeply ingrained.
But one individual has stayed with me more than any other.
A female dolphin called Linda had lost each of her calves. Again and again. And yet, she continued to exhibit maternal behaviour - not towards another dolphin, but towards a rubber ring she carried gently beneath her pectoral fin. She would hold it there as if it were a calf, swimming slowly, protectively, in a way that was both tender and profoundly distressing to witness.
For organisations like ORCA, the case against dolphin captivity is not theoretical. It comes from seeing these animals where they belong: in the open ocean, making choices, forming bonds, and navigating vast, ever-changing environments.
There is a profound difference between encountering a dolphin at sea and watching one perform in a tank. One is shaped by the animal’s agency; the other by human control.
The risk now is that decisions like those being considered in Wallonia normalise a return to outdated thinking - at precisely the moment when science, ethics and public opinion are aligning in the opposite direction.
Belgium has already taken steps that recognise the need to move on from dolphin captivity. But by allowing existing facilities to continue operating for decades, and by reopening the door to new ones, it sends a far more ambiguous message.
If this proposal goes ahead, Belgium will not just be hesitating, it will be stepping backwards.
And for animals as intelligent and wide-ranging as dolphins, that is a step that should concern us all.
By joining ORCA, you stand alongside others who care about the future of our oceans, all working toward the same vision: oceans alive with whales and dolphins.