The secret lives of Elephants

Elephants have always felt a bit magical. But in recent years, science has started to show that what many people describe as “magic” is in fact a very sophisticated kind of mind. Research now suggests that elephants are among the most emotionally complex animals on Earth. Observations from the field and from sanctuaries show elephants comforting distressed companions, supporting calves and appearing to mourn their dead – behaviour that points to deep social bonds and emotional awareness.

Alongside this emotional depth sits remarkable intelligence. Studies of elephant brains published in the last year have found that they are not only huge in absolute terms, but also continue substantial growth after birth, much like the human brain. This postnatal growth suggests an extended period of learning and cognitive development, with experience shaping how elephants understand their world.

Communication research has added another layer. Elephants use a wide range of vocalisations and rumbles, many of them below the range of human hearing. In 2024, scientists analysing these calls reported evidence that wild African elephants use individually specific vocal labels – effectively “names” – for one another. On top of this, researchers have shown that elephants communicate over vast distances using powerful low-frequency rumbles: the sound travels not only through the air, but also as vibrations through the ground, which other elephants can detect with the sensitive pads in their feet, sometimes over many kilometres.

Other studies show that elephants can recognise when a human is paying attention to them, adjusting their behaviour depending on body and face orientation, and that they remember individual people – including former keepers – for more than a decade. Their problem-solving skills, ability to manipulate tools and curiosity about new objects all point towards flexible, creative intelligence.

Beyond the data, there are the stories. Conservationists tell of elephants returning to the bones of dead relatives year after year; of older females taking charge of frightened groups during stressful events; of long-separated family members recognising one another instantly after many years apart, greeting with low rumbles and careful trunk touches that look uncannily like an embrace.

Taken together, the science and the stories paint a clear picture. Elephants are not simply large animals that need somewhere to live. They are sentient, social beings with long memories, subtle relationships and an inner life that we are only just beginning to understand. That has major implications for how they are kept and cared for.

Traditional models of captivity, whether in circuses or many conventional zoos, have tended to focus on physical needs: food, water, basic veterinary care and a secure enclosure. Important as these are, research suggests they are not enough. Elephants need space: to walk, forage and choose where to be. They need calm: a predictable, low-stress environment where they can form stable relationships. And they need a degree of consent in how they are handled: the chance to decide when to engage, when to rest and how to participate in their own care.

In the wild, elephant families can walk many kilometres each day, across home ranges that stretch over hundreds of square kilometres. They live in multi-layered societies, where close-knit groups regularly split and come back together with a wider circle of relatives. When elephants are instead kept in small, unstimulating spaces with little movement and often no company, research shows they experience significant physical and psychological suffering.

This thinking underpins the model being developed by Pangea in the Alentejo. On more than 1,000 acres of mixed habitat, the sanctuary aims to give elephants room to roam, graze and explore in a landscape that changes with the seasons, rather than pacing the same few hundred metres of concrete or hard-packed soil. The site’s design is focused on space and calm: long views, varied terrain and the chance to move away from activity when an elephant chooses.

Social groupings will be managed with relationships in mind, with the space for time alone if they prefer. Equally important is the philosophy of ‘protected contact’ and consent-based care. Instead of controlling elephants through fear, force or close confinement, keepers work from behind safety barriers, using positive reinforcement and choice-based interactions.

As science continues to catch up with what many people have long felt, projects like Pangea are trying to respond in the most practical way possible: by building places where that magic is recognised, respected and allowed to flourish – and where elephants’ real needs are met, so they can, simply, be elephants again.

Know someone as magical as an elephant? Honour them this Christmas with a gift that helps Pangea welcome the first elephants. Donate in their name and you can opt in to receive a gift certificate: https://www.pangeatrust.org/tpnappeal/