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As a young woman from Burkina Faso and a UX designer in training, I find myself constantly reflecting on how my cultural heritage intersects with my professional aspirations. Recently, I had the opportunity to attend a screening of Dahomey, a film by Mati Diop that captures the emotional and historical journey of 26 royal treasures returned to Benin from French museums. This experience was not just a film screening; it became a profound exploration of identity, history, and the role of storytelling in design.

A Cultural Awakening

Growing up in Burkina Faso, I’ve always been surrounded by the vibrant tapestry of African cultures and traditions. Yet, like many others, I am also aware of the scars left by colonialism—scars that have stolen pieces of our heritage and identity. Watching Dahomey brought those themes to life in ways I hadn’t experienced before.

The treasures in the film were more than artifacts; they were symbols of a people’s history and pride. Diop’s creative decision to give these objects a voice—allowing them to narrate their journey home—felt deeply symbolic. It was a reminder of how our stories, whether told through artifacts or digital interfaces, have the power to heal, educate, and inspire.

Lessons for a UX

As a designer, I was captivated by how Dahomey presented its narrative. The film didn’t just inform; it engaged and evoked emotions. This is something I strive for in my own work—creating user experiences that are not just functional but also meaningful and resonant.

The film used storytelling techniques that could easily translate to UX design:

• Empathy as a Foundation: The emotional depth of the film invited the audience to step into the shoes of those affected by the loss of cultural artifacts. Similarly, in UX, understanding the user’s emotional and practical needs is key to creating impactful solutions.
• Immersive Storytelling: The film’s ability to bring history to life through creative narratives can inspire designers to build immersive, narrative-driven digital experiences, especially for education or cultural preservation projects.
• Context Matters: Diop’s deliberate focus on the people of Benin, their struggles, and their triumphs reinforced the importance of context. In design, too, understanding the user’s environment and cultural background can make or break the success of a product.

A Personal Connection

The themes of the film resonated with me not only as a designer but as a Burkinabé. Burkina Faso, with its strong film heritage (home to the famous FESPACO festival), shares similar challenges and opportunities when it comes to reclaiming and celebrating its identity. Watching Dahomey felt like a call to action—to use my skills as a designer to bridge the gap between tradition and modernity, to preserve and promote our stories in innovative ways.

One of the most moving moments in the film was seeing how the people of Benin responded to the treasures’ return. It reminded me of the collective pride and healing that comes from reclaiming what was lost. It also made me think about how design can facilitate such moments—whether through digital archives, interactive storytelling platforms, or apps that bring cultural knowledge to younger generations.

Beyond the Film

Attending the screening also provided a chance to connect with others who share a passion for using media and technology for social change. I had conversations with filmmakers, historians, and technologists, each bringing a unique perspective on how to address issues of cultural restitution and identity.

This networking experience reminded me of the importance of stepping out of my comfort zone. Just like the treasures in the film, I realized that I, too, am on a journey—one that involves rediscovering my identity and finding ways to use design as a tool for change.

Reflections

Dahomey was more than a film for me; it was a mirror reflecting the possibilities of what we can achieve when we combine art, history, and technology. It showed me that design is not just about creating products—it’s about telling stories, fostering connections, and making the invisible visible.

As I move forward, I carry with me the lessons from this experience. I am inspired to explore how UX design can preserve and amplify African narratives, ensuring that our stories are told and our voices are heard. Just like the treasures in Dahomey, I believe we all have a role to play in reclaiming and redefining our identities—for ourselves and for future generations.

KIZ RoyalKino Graz

At this stage of my studies, I decided to delve into topics that resonate with me and help identify the best subject for my master’s thesis. To achieve this, I sought experiences that could guide me toward discovering my strengths and interests. One such experience was attending the World Usability Congress—a pivotal event that marked my journey of self-discovery and growth.

I chose to participate as a volunteer, a decision driven by my desire to gain a broader perspective on the congress and acquire firsthand experience. As an interaction designer, my primary goal is to create meaningful products for users. However, I often find myself held back by shyness. Volunteering presented an opportunity to push beyond my comfort zone, meet new people, and engage in meaningful conversations. This experience not only helped me grow as a professional but also enriched my understanding of the user experience (UX) field.

Stepping Out of My Comfort Zone

On October 15, 2024, I attended my first talk by Catharin Walker Eure from Nike. Her presentation, The Exciting Landscape of Generative AI for User Experience, was an eye-opener. She introduced various AI tools that can significantly enhance UX research and design while cautioning against their misuse. Her insights were invaluable, and I eagerly noted tools for different applications:

• Education and E-learning UX Research: Userlytics, Learnosity, and sentiment analysis tools like MonkeyLearn.
• Automotive Industry: Motive AI, Affective, and CarUX.

These tools expanded my perspective on how AI can support and transform the UX design process, encouraging me to explore their potential applications in my future work.

Masterclass and Meaningful Exchanges

The following day, October 16, 2024, was a turning point in my journey. I attended several talks, but the highlight was a masterclass led by Claudia Bruckschwaiger titled Conceptual Design – The End of Fear for Decisions. The session was advanced, challenging me to think critically about decision-making in design. I learned valuable strategies for conducting user testing in corporate settings and, perhaps more importantly, how to advocate for better design practices within my teams.

Later that evening, I attended the gala dinner—a vibrant event filled with opportunities to network and interact with experts in the field. The gala revealed a new side of me: someone capable of approaching others, asking thoughtful questions, and genuinely listening.

One of the most impactful exchanges I had was with Claudio Zeni and Gerhard Kühne. They introduced me to innovative solutions for people with disabilities, such as virtual reality glasses designed for blind individuals. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized the extent to which technology could empower and transform lives. Listening to their experiences and learning about their work reminded me that in design, there are no limits—only opportunities to make a difference.

Growth Beyond the Topic

While the primary purpose of this exploration was to find a direction for my master’s thesis, the experience transcended that goal. The World Usability Congress became an adventure—a journey of personal and professional growth. I gained not only new knowledge and tools but also a deeper appreciation for what design can achieve.

The conversations, workshops, and exchanges inspired me to think beyond my immediate goals. They reminded me of the broader role of designers in shaping a more inclusive and innovative world. For me, this journey isn’t just about learning; it’s about contributing to the design community and discovering what we can collectively achieve.

Final Reflections

The World Usability Congress was more than just an event; it was a catalyst for self-discovery. It helped me identify areas for improvement, such as stepping out of my comfort zone, and introduced me to tools and practices that will guide my future work. Most importantly, it reaffirmed my belief in the limitless potential of design to solve problems and create meaningful experiences.

As I continue this journey, I am excited to explore new horizons, embrace challenges, and contribute to the ever-evolving field of UX design.

Recently, I had the opportunity to visit the Natural History Museum in Graz, located in the Joanneumsviertel. It’s a museum known for its extensive collection of natural history artifacts, ranging from fossils to live exhibits, and it offers a unique blend of scientific information and interactive experiences. For someone like me, who is focused on the role of interactivity in public education for my master’s thesis, this visit was an inspiring and thought-provoking experience.

In this blog post, I’ll reflect on how my visit to the museum relates to my ongoing research and how it has sparked new ideas for incorporating interactive elements into educational spaces.

Exploring the Museum: A Blend of History and Technology
The museum itself houses a staggering 2.1 million objects, including 1.1 million animals, 650,000 plants and fungi, 200,000 fossils and rocks, and 100,000 minerals. One thing that stood out to me was the diversity of the exhibits—not just in terms of the specimens, but in how they were presented. The museum is divided into several areas, including a main exhibition house in the Joanneumsviertel and other specialized locations like the House of Biodiversity and a study center.

What made the museum especially interesting was the way it integrates modern interactive elements into its exhibits. For instance, there were various touchscreens, video stations, quizzes, and mini-games designed to engage visitors of all ages. The use of these interactive tools helped to bring the information to life, allowing visitors to engage with scientific concepts in a more immersive and hands-on way.

Observation of Visitors and Their Interactions
One of the most insightful parts of my visit was observing how other visitors interacted with the exhibits. It was fascinating to see how people—especially children—were drawn to the interactive components. Instead of passively looking at static displays, they could actively engage with the material. For example, touchscreens allowed visitors to explore different animal species or geological formations at their own pace, and the quizzes added a gamified element that made learning fun.

I paid particular attention to how different people used these interactive stations. Some immediately gravitated toward them, eager to try the mini-games or watch the educational videos, while others preferred to observe first before engaging. It became clear to me that offering a variety of interaction types—both digital and physical—is key to capturing a wider audience. This is something I want to explore more in my own research: how different types of interactivity appeal to different types of learners and visitors.

The educational value of these interactive exhibits also became apparent. Visitors seemed to retain more information when they were able to manipulate objects on a screen or participate in an activity. It’s one thing to read about fossils or minerals in a textbook, but it’s another to be able to zoom in on a high-resolution image of a specimen and explore its details or even simulate a fossil excavation in a mini-game.

Inspiration for My Master’s Thesis: Interactivity in Educational Spaces
This visit was particularly valuable for my master’s thesis, which focuses on how interactive design can be used to educate the public about complex topics, like biodiversity and conservation. The Natural History Museum in Graz gave me a lot of inspiration for how museums can implement these elements successfully.

I’ve been reflecting on how these interactive stations could be translated into different settings—like zoos or aquariums, where I’m researching alternatives to traditional animal exhibits. Imagine an exhibit where, instead of seeing a captive animal, visitors interact with a touchscreen that shows the animal in its natural habitat through high-quality video or even virtual reality. They could learn about the animal’s behavior, its role in the ecosystem, and the threats it faces in the wild without ever needing to keep it in a cage.

Another exciting idea is how gamification can be used in educational settings. During my visit, I saw several examples of interactive quizzes and mini-games that made learning fun. This is something I’d love to explore further in my research—how introducing game-like elements can make learning about complex subjects, like conservation or animal behavior, more accessible and engaging.

What I found particularly insightful was how the museum tailored the interactivity to different age groups. The touchscreens and games were perfect for younger visitors, while more in-depth video content and quizzes appealed to adults. This layering of content, where different forms of interaction cater to different levels of knowledge, is something I want to explore more as I consider how to design educational exhibits that reach a broad audience.

Key Takeaways and Future Research Directions
One of the most important takeaways from my visit was realizing that interactivity is not just about technology—it’s about creating meaningful experiences for visitors. Whether it’s through touchscreens, games, or videos, the goal should be to immerse visitors in the subject matter and encourage them to actively engage with it. I’ve seen how this can work in a museum setting, and I’m excited to see how I can apply these principles to other spaces, like zoos or aquariums, where the focus can shift from passive observation to active learning.

For my thesis, this visit has reinforced the idea that technology can be used as a tool to deepen engagement without relying on outdated models like captivity or static displays. By creating interactive experiences that are informative, fun, and dynamic, we can foster a deeper connection between the public and the natural world.

Overall, my visit to the Natural History Museum in Graz was not just a fun and educational day out—it was an essential step in gathering inspiration for my research. The museum’s use of interactivity and its focus on making complex topics accessible to all kinds of visitors showed me what’s possible when we think creatively about how we share scientific knowledge. I’m excited to keep exploring these ideas and to see how they evolve as I continue working on my thesis.

Futher Reading
Eine Community für Naturfreunde · iNaturalist
BOLD – The Barcode of Life Data Systems
Naturkundemuseum und Studienzentrum: 20 Museen und 1 Zoo in Graz und der Steiermark

A few days ago, I listened to a really powerful podcast featuring John Hargrove, a former SeaWorld killer whale trainer turned whistleblower. Hargrove spent over a decade living his childhood dream of working with orcas, but what he experienced behind the scenes at SeaWorld eventually pushed him to speak out against the inhumane treatment of these animals. He was also one of the main voices in the Blackfish documentary that exposed the reality of orca captivity.

This podcast struck a personal chord with me, especially since my current research is focused on animal welfare and the ethical challenges zoos and marine parks face. Listening to Hargrove’s firsthand account of his experiences made me think even more deeply about how captivity affects not only animals‘ physical well-being but also their mental health. In this blog post, I want to reflect on what I learned from Hargrove’s story and how it’s shaping my own research on finding better, more humane ways to educate people about animals without confining them to small tanks or cages.

Hargrove’s Journey: From Dream to Disillusionment
Hargrove shared that his obsession with becoming a killer whale trainer started when he was just six years old. After visiting SeaWorld, he was captivated by the shows and the trainers swimming with these giant creatures. That passion stuck with him all the way into adulthood, and by 19, he was living his dream, working at SeaWorld as a trainer.

But over the years, Hargrove began to see a much darker side to the world he had idolized. He explained in the podcast how he and other trainers were initially blinded by SeaWorld’s polished image. They believed they were helping these animals and educating the public. However, as Hargrove advanced in his career, he started noticing things that didn’t sit right—whales showing signs of stress, aggression, and physical damage from living in such confined spaces. He described this realization as a slow and painful process, as the truth about how the whales were being treated became impossible to ignore.

What really hit me was when Hargrove talked about how SeaWorld’s corporate interests often took precedence over the well-being of the animals. He gave specific examples of how the park neglected the whales’ needs, such as refusing to spend money on repainting the tanks, despite the whales peeling off and ingesting the paint out of boredom. Yet, they were willing to spend over a million dollars on fancy new LED lights to make the shows more visually appealing for the audience. It’s shocking, and it reveals how these parks prioritize profit over the very animals that draw in their revenue.

The Reality of Orca Captivity: More Than Just Physical Harm
One of the most heartbreaking parts of the podcast was when Hargrove described the psychological toll that captivity takes on orcas. He compared their lives in tanks to human solitary confinement, which, after hearing it, makes total sense. Orcas are incredibly intelligent and social animals, but in captivity, they’re often isolated, cramped into tiny spaces, and have almost no stimulation. Hargrove shared that the whales often become so bored and stressed that they self-mutilate by rubbing their bodies against the concrete walls of their tanks until they bleed. This was something I hadn’t fully grasped before—just how much of their behavior in captivity stems from deep psychological distress.

Hargrove also talked about his personal relationship with one of the orcas, Takara. He spent years working with her and described the emotional pain he felt when she was subjected to artificial insemination, something he was powerless to stop. He recounted how he would apologize to her during the procedure, knowing it was wrong, but also feeling trapped in his role as her trainer. This part of the podcast really hit me hard because it showed that even those who love these animals feel helpless in the face of corporate decisions that prioritize profit over ethics.

The Impact on My Research: Rethinking Education and Captivity
Listening to Hargrove’s experiences has made me reflect on the larger issue of how we educate people about animals. For many of us, zoos and marine parks are places we go to learn about wildlife, but how much can we really learn when the animals are confined to spaces that are nothing like their natural habitats? Hargrove made a great point: the animals we see in these parks aren’t behaving as they would in the wild. They’re stressed, unhealthy, and often medicated just to keep them alive. So, what kind of educational value is there in that?

This podcast has sparked even more ideas for my own research, particularly around how we can use technology to create more ethical alternatives. I’ve been thinking a lot about how virtual reality (VR) and interactive exhibits could replace traditional animal parks. For example, instead of seeing an orca perform tricks in a tank, why not create a VR experience where people can observe orcas in the wild, learning about their behaviors, social structures, and the environmental threats they face? This way, people could gain a deeper understanding and appreciation for these animals without contributing to the harmful practice of captivity.

Another area I’m now interested in exploring is legislation. Hargrove was an expert witness for the legislation that banned orca breeding in California, and it’s inspiring to see how real change can happen when the public becomes aware of the issues. My research could potentially focus on how design can not only educate people but also advocate for policy changes that protect animals from exploitation.

Moving Forward: A New Vision for Animal Welfare
Listening to Hargrove speak about his journey from being a passionate trainer to a vocal advocate for orca welfare really resonated with me. His story reminded me of the ethical dilemmas that come with trying to balance animal welfare with public education. As I continue my research, I’m more convinced than ever that there’s a better way to achieve both goals—one that doesn’t involve keeping animals in captivity.

I’m excited to explore how technology, design, and storytelling can offer new ways for people to connect with wildlife. Whether it’s through VR experiences or interactive exhibits in museums, I believe there’s huge potential to educate the public in a way that’s both engaging and ethical. Hopefully, by rethinking how we approach animal education, we can inspire a new generation of people to care about conservation—without needing to imprison animals for it.

Further Reading
World Orca Day: The cruel reality of marine parks | World Animal Protection UK
Mistreatment towards orcas, dolphins at SeaWorld leave them distressed – The Lancer Feed
Fate of orcas in captivity – Whale and Dolphin Conservation

Recently, I watched the 2013 documentary Blackfish, directed by Gabriela Cowperthwaite, which explores the controversial practice of keeping orcas (commonly known as killer whales) in captivity, particularly within the SeaWorld parks. The film, centered on the story of Tilikum, an orca involved in the deaths of three people, including trainer Dawn Brancheau, sparked deep reflections on the ethics of animal captivity. Moreover, it has significantly impacted my approach to research, pushing me to think critically about animal conservation, public education, and the role of zoos and marine parks.

In this blog post, I will reflect on how Blackfish shaped my understanding of orcas in captivity and how it relates to my broader research on animal welfare and interactive design solutions for raising public awareness.

The Tragic Story of Tilikum
The core of Blackfish revolves around Tilikum, a male orca captured off the coast of Iceland in 1983 and transferred between different marine parks, including SeaWorld Orlando, where he spent most of his life. What the film effectively conveys is not just the tragedy of the fatal incidents involving Tilikum, but the systemic issues surrounding orca captivity. Through interviews with former trainers, scientists, and experts, the film paints a grim picture of how these intelligent, social creatures suffer both physically and mentally when confined in small tanks for entertainment purposes.

Blackfish highlights several key points:

1. Psychological Impact: Orcas are highly social animals, often living in complex family groups in the wild. The film demonstrates how the isolation and separation from family members can lead to severe psychological distress for orcas in captivity. This stress, Blackfish argues, contributes to the aggressive behaviors observed in Tilikum, behaviors that are rarely, if ever, seen in the wild.
2. Physical Deterioration: In captivity, orcas are kept in tanks that are a fraction of the size of their natural habitats. This confinement leads to physical issues, such as collapsed dorsal fins, which affect the majority of captive orcas but are rarely seen in wild populations. The film also emphasizes the lower life expectancy of captive orcas, contrasting SeaWorld’s public claims that orcas live just as long in captivity as they do in the wild.
3. Deceptive Practices: One of the more shocking revelations in Blackfish is how marine parks like SeaWorld have historically provided the public with misleading information about orcas, including exaggerated claims about their well-being in captivity. The documentary exposes the commercial motives behind the captivity industry, especially through the use of captive orcas in breeding programs, including Tilikum, despite his involvement in multiple fatal incidents.

Ethical Concerns and the Role of Zoos
Watching Blackfish stirred a deeper contemplation of the ethical dilemmas surrounding the captivity of large, intelligent animals like orcas. One of the most impactful aspects of the documentary is its ability to humanize the orcas, showing how these magnificent creatures suffer in confinement. The personal stories of former trainers also highlight the moral conflict many employees faced when they realized the harmful impacts of captivity on these animals.

For me, the documentary reinforced the notion that captivity, particularly in environments that prioritize entertainment over education, is inherently problematic. It aligns with my earlier reflections from a zoo visit where I observed the distress and unnatural behavior of other captive animals like primates, lions, and dolphins. The primary takeaway here is that traditional zoos and marine parks are often ill-equipped to provide the complex environments that these animals need to thrive. Instead of truly educating the public about the animals‘ natural behaviors and habitats, these facilities often present a highly edited, commodified version of wildlife that glosses over the harsh realities of captivity.

Inspiration for Further Research
One of the most powerful effects Blackfish had on me is its ability to inspire further learning and action. Orcas have always fascinated me, but this documentary deepened my interest in studying them, particularly in their natural environments. It became clear to me that the only way to truly understand these animals is to observe them where they belong: in the wild. Blackfish reinforced the idea that captivity not only deprives orcas of their freedom but also deprives us, as the public, of the chance to witness their authentic behavior.

This idea directly impacts my master’s research, which focuses on public education and the role of interactive design in raising awareness about animal welfare. The film highlights the need for alternatives to traditional zoos and marine parks—alternatives that don’t rely on confinement but instead use technology to educate the public. Inspired by this, I am now exploring ways to design interactive storytelling experiences that allow people to learn about orcas and other wild animals in a more ethical and impactful way. One possibility is the creation of virtual reality exhibits where visitors can experience orcas’ natural behaviors in their expansive ocean habitats, learning about their social structures, communication methods, and the environmental threats they face, without the ethical implications of captivity.

In addition to VR, interactive installations in public spaces could be another avenue for teaching the public about the lives of these animals. For example, an interactive exhibit could allow users to explore the migration patterns of wild orcas, offering a dynamic way to engage with and learn about their natural environments and conservation needs. The key here is to move away from the traditional zoo model and toward experiences that are both educational and ethically responsible.

Orca Captivity: A Catalyst for Change
Ultimately, Blackfish is more than just a documentary; it is a call to action. It not only exposes the ethical and moral issues inherent in keeping orcas in captivity, but it also challenges the public to rethink their relationship with animals in entertainment settings. For me, the film has provided a significant impulse for my own research, pushing me to explore innovative, technology-driven solutions that prioritize education, conservation, and empathy for wild animals.

As I continue to develop my master’s thesis, I intend to focus more on how we can use interactive design to foster a deeper understanding of animals like orcas in their natural habitats. By creating immersive, educational experiences, we can inspire a new generation to value and protect these animals without contributing to their suffering in captivity.

Further Reading
Blackfish – Wikipedia
Doku „Blackfish“: Warum ein Wal seinen Menschen tötete – WELT
Tierquälerei : TUI streicht Ausflüge zu Delfin- und Orca-Shows – WELT

During a recent visit to the Tiergarten Nürnberg, I found myself grappling with a number of conflicting emotions. As a researcher focused on design and public awareness, this experience was especially impactful. Not only did it stir personal reflections on animal welfare, but it also provided significant inspiration for my master’s thesis. This blog post serves as both a reflection of my visit and an analysis of the potential research opportunities it has sparked, particularly concerning animal welfare, zoo alternatives, and interactive design for public education.

The Zoo: Between Nature and Captivity
The Tiergarten Nürnberg, opened in 1912 and relocated to its current site in 1939, covers an expansive 65 hectares, making it one of Europe’s largest zoos. Home to 310 different species and over 6,800 individual animals (as of 2020), it houses many notable attractions, including Germany’s first outdoor dolphin lagoon, a tropical rainforest-themed manatee house, and an aquatic park showcasing polar bears, sea lions, and penguins. With visitor numbers exceeding 1 million annually, it is undeniably a popular destination for locals and tourists alike.

Despite the beauty of its natural setting, complete with sandstone formations and water bodies, my experience visiting the zoo was far from serene. The animals, especially the primates, seemed distressed, constantly fighting in their enclosures. This created a chaotic atmosphere, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that many of the enclosures, such as those for the tigers, lions, and dolphins, were far too small. The discomfort I felt watching these animals in such confined spaces was palpable. Zoos, at their core, are spaces designed to educate and entertain, but I left the zoo with more questions than answers. The limited educational signage offered little insight into the animals‘ natural behaviors or conservation statuses. The lack of information and the unnatural behavior of the animals stood out to me as problematic aspects that need addressing in zoos today.

Criticisms of Zoo Practices: An Ongoing Debate
The ethical dilemmas surrounding zoos are not new, but they remain controversial. Critics, particularly animal rights organizations like PETA, have long challenged the captivity of wild animals, especially marine mammals like dolphins. The Tiergarten Nürnberg’s dolphin lagoon has faced significant criticism, with opponents arguing that no captive environment can truly simulate the expansive, complex habitats these intelligent creatures are accustomed to in the wild. Critics also raise concerns about the transparency of the zoo’s management, particularly in light of its past proposals to cull animals, such as baboons, to manage overpopulation.

The overarching ethical question is whether zoos, as institutions, have a right to confine wild animals for the sake of public education and entertainment. While zoos like Tiergarten Nürnberg contribute to conservation efforts and research, particularly in the realm of endangered marine mammals, the trade-offs are significant. Can the potential conservation benefits justify the confinement of large, intelligent animals like dolphins and tigers in relatively small enclosures?

This leads to broader questions that are central to my research: How can we, as designers and researchers, address these ethical concerns? Can zoos evolve to focus more on education, empathy, and immersive learning, rather than solely entertainment?

Designing Alternatives: Toward Interactive and Educational Experiences
My visit to the zoo, coupled with these ethical considerations, provided me with valuable insights for my master’s thesis, which focuses on zoo alternatives and the role of design in public education about animal welfare. I am particularly interested in how we can leverage interactive storytelling and exhibit design to create more impactful, educational experiences for the public, while simultaneously promoting conservation and animal welfare.

One idea that emerged from this visit is the potential for interactive installations in place of traditional zoos. Imagine a space where visitors could engage with interactive simulations or augmented reality experiences that allow them to learn about animals in a way that is both immersive and ethical. For example, rather than viewing a distressed dolphin in a small pool, visitors could experience a virtual reality exhibit that simulates the life of an orca in the wild, complete with educational content about the threats these animals face due to captivity, pollution, and climate change.

This approach could be especially impactful when considering highly intelligent species like dolphins or primates. Interactive storytelling could be used to teach visitors about the natural behaviors of these animals, their social structures, and the importance of their conservation. By using technology, we could create an exhibit that not only informs but also elicits empathy, perhaps even encouraging visitors to take action toward protecting these animals in the wild.

The Impact on My Research: A Clear Path Forward
This zoo visit has provided me with a clear impulse for my future research. It has reinforced my desire to explore alternatives to traditional zoo models, focusing on interactive, technology-driven solutions that prioritize animal welfare while still serving educational purposes. The tension between conservation and captivity is at the core of this debate, and I believe that immersive, interactive experiences could offer a way to bridge this gap.

Additionally, the lack of informative content in the zoo’s current exhibits has inspired me to think about how interactive exhibit design could enhance learning in public spaces like zoos, aquariums, and museums. Creating exhibits that both educate and engage the public, particularly on complex issues like animal conservation, could have a lasting impact on public awareness and behavior.

In conclusion, my visit to the Tiergarten Nürnberg was not just an eye-opening experience regarding the ethical challenges zoos face today, but also a catalyst for exploring new, innovative ways to educate the public about animal welfare. By using design to reimagine the visitor experience, we can create alternatives that are both ethical and educational, ultimately contributing to a deeper understanding and protection of wildlife.

Further Reading:
Tiergarten Nürnberg: Eine Frage der Moral – Bayern – SZ.de
tiergarten.nuernberg.de: Entdecken
Tiergarten Nürnberg: 50 Jahre Tierquälerei im Delfinarium