The Challenges of Studying (and Treating) PTSD in Chimpanzees
Apes used in animal testing often display symptoms of psychological trauma. Wildlife sanctuaries are helping them recover.
In a striking intersection of animal rights and scientific inquiry, the plight of chimpanzees subjected to biomedical testing has garnered increased attention in recent years. These intelligent primates, sharing about 98.5% of their DNA with humans, exhibit distressing psychological fallout reminiscent of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) following their time in laboratories. As researchers and caregivers attempt to understand and remedy these scars, a complex tapestry of rehabilitation efforts unfolds.
Chimpanzees like Rachel and Jeannie, among many, highlight the stark reality faced by these animals after years of invasive testing. Rachel, for example, was raised in a suburban household where she was treated more like a child than a vibrant primate. Unfortunately, this idyllic start turned grim when her owner surrendered her due to the challenges of managing her wild instincts. This led Rachel to a different kind of captivity in a laboratory setting at New York University, where she underwent numerous invasive procedures, leaving her psychologically fragmented.
Though the timeline for ending the use of chimpanzees in research has accelerated—culminating in the eventual ban in 2015 following the Great Ape Protection Act—many chimps bear the heavy burden of their experiences. According to government data, approximately 1,500 chimpanzees were being utilized in biomedical research across the United States at the beginning of this movement. The reasons for their previous utilization stemmed from their similarity to human biology, making them prime candidates for studies on diseases like HIV and hepatitis. However, their cognitive and emotional capacities also mean that they often emerge from this environment with severe psychological issues.
Signs of trauma often parallel those found in human PTSD, though experts debate the accurate label. Common symptoms in these chimps include hypervigilance (where the animal is constantly on alert), dissociation, and self-inflicted harm. In response to these severe issues, wildlife sanctuaries have developed strategies to aid in the recovery of affected chimps.
At facilities dedicated to this mission, caregivers and animal behaviorists employ various rehabilitation techniques that resemble human mental health interventions. Through at least a combination of medication and behavioral therapy, staff strive to stabilize these traumatized animals. The undeniable goal is to restore a semblance of normalcy in their lives, allowing these chimps to feel safe and engage in social behaviors.
When Jeannie, a chimp who had faced decades of medical interventions, arrived at her sanctuary, she initially displayed signs of severe psychological distress. Her trauma was so profound that she experienced what researchers labelled a “nervous breakdown,” throwing her into states of aggression and withdrawal. Observations from caretakers indicated that Jeannie suffered intensely from dissociative episodes, illustrating the nuances of animal psychology and trauma.
Primatologist Mary Lee Jensvold recounted how she faced Rachel in the late 1990s, who was caught in the grips of similar symptoms: “When I met her in 1997, she was having dissociative episodes,” she recalled, drawing stark parallels between human behavior and that of chimps. These observations have led experts like Gay Bradshaw to suggest that some of these behaviors fall under “Complex PTSD,” combining various elements of trauma responses observed in humans.
As part of the healing process, rehabilitation at sanctuaries often involves medication akin to what would be prescribed to humans, ranging from antidepressants to other psychotropic drugs. But medications alone cannot address the complexities of behavioral restoration. A significant focus has turned toward fostering community and connection among the chimps, encouraging social interactions that help mitigate feelings of isolation and anxiety.
This aspect of rehabilitation draws on studies that indicate chimpanzees flourish in social settings with their kind, echoing the experiences of humans who benefit from connections in their recoveries as well. Caregivers often introduce isolated chimps to groups gradually, allowing them to build relationships through shared activities like grooming, which is fundamental for social bonding.
Additionally, providing ample physical space is crucial for their rehabilitation efforts. Unlike typical zoo habitats, sanctuaries are designed to allow chimps more freedom to explore their surroundings and engage in behaviors similar to those in the wild. For instance, Project Chimps offers over 236 acres where these animals can forage, build nests, and maintain social hierarchies, contributing vastly to their well-being.
In discussing the intricacies of veterinary care at these sanctuaries, caretakers speak of the unique bond they form with the chimps. For Dr. Raven Jackson, director of veterinary care at Chimp Haven, each interaction fosters a deeper understanding of each individual chimp’s personality and needs. She explains, “The benefit of my job is developing relationships with the chimps because they see me outside of their standard physical examinations.” This personal connection is instrumental in observing behavioral changes and determining the best course of treatment.
Chimp Haven was established as a sanctuary specifically for retired chimpanzees from biomedical research. Launched in response to the growing acknowledgment of the psychological toll exacted on these animals, Chimp Haven serves not only as a safe haven but also as a pioneering model for their rehabilitation. The passage of the CHIMP Act in 2000 and later the CHIMP Haven is Home Act in 2007 solidified the sanctuary's mission, ensuring that chimps could spend their remaining days in safety and care.
As a testament to the evolving understanding of chimp needs, veterinarians like Dr. DaShaunte Coleman further emphasize the continuity of care beyond merely addressing immediate medical problems. They closely monitor chronic conditions, educating themselves about common ailments specific to the species. With cardiology issues, for instance, becoming a significant concern in aging cherubs, the sanctuary has been proactive in expanding its resources in this area.
One can sense the commitment of staff members like veterinary student Jillian LaCroix-Martin, who was drawn to Chimp Haven because of its deep connection to the care of retired chimps. Her experiences in vet school and an earlier internship with howler monkeys abroad informed her journey to Chimp Haven, ultimately allowing her to work closely with individual chimps and their needs, including administering medication and performing physical exams.
At Chimp Haven, each day brings a host of medical challenges; situations like bites and scratches from social interactions among the chimpanzees become commonplace. Yet the team's dedication shines through as they prioritize the well-being of each individual, forging bonds even amidst these clinical settings. Coleman points to the resilience typical of chimpanzees, noting they often heal remarkably well with proper care. However, the complexities of their social structures continue to impact how treatments are executed, ensuring the hierarchy remains intact, which plays a critical role in treatment methodologies.
In summary, as humans engage in the ongoing discourse surrounding animal welfare, the reality of supporting traumatized chimpanzees becomes ever clearer. With growing understanding and compassionate strategies, wildlife sanctuaries champion a vision where healing transcends the boundaries of species. Trained minds share their time and knowledge to foster an environment where former research chimps are empowered to navigate their new lives. The hope is that, in this burgeoning relationship between human and chimp, the echoes of trauma gradually fade, leading to a more peaceful coexistence.
