Imagine cuddling up to a capybara or feeding an otter in the heart of a bustling Asian city—sounds adorable, right? But here’s where it gets controversial: these animal cafes, while wildly popular, are raising serious ethical and environmental concerns. From Bangkok to Jakarta, these venues are booming, driven by social media trends and the allure of exotic pets. But how did a South American capybara end up in a small enclosure in Thailand, thousands of miles from its natural habitat? And at what cost?
Capybara cafes have been popping up across Asia, fueled by the rodent’s viral fame on platforms like TikTok, where they’ve starred in over 600,000 posts. In Bangkok, visitors pay around £9.40 for a 30-minute session to pet capybaras, meerkats, and bamboo rats. These cafes operate 12 hours a day, seven days a week, catering to a seemingly endless demand. But this is the part most people miss: the sudden popularity of these animals is tied to a troubling rise in exotic animal cafes, which often prioritize profit over welfare.
The trend isn’t new. Taiwan pioneered cat cafes in 1998, and Japan and South Korea later expanded the concept to include owls, raccoons, and otters. Last year, South Korea cracked down on these cafes, banning the display of wild animals unless the venue is registered as a zoo or aquarium. Yet, in cities like Ho Chi Minh and Guangzhou, animal cafes are more popular than ever. And this is where it gets even more complicated: many of these animals, including capybaras, are not endangered globally, but their movement across borders is often linked to illegal pet trade networks.
‘The diversity and number of animals, especially threatened species, is deeply concerning,’ says Timothy Bonebrake, a conservation biologist at the University of Hong Kong. Even though capybaras are abundant in Brazil, where they’re protected, their export from countries like Venezuela and Colombia is often illegal. The international trade in these rodents isn’t regulated by CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species), yet they frequently end up in Asian cafes, raising questions about their origins.
‘Legal and illegal supply chains for live animals often overlap, controlled by the same people and companies,’ explains Scott Roberton of the Wildlife Conservation Society. While some cafes claim their animals come from ethical farms, Roberton warns that ‘laundering of illegally caught animals into legal supply chains is very common.’ This isn’t just about capybaras—species at risk of extinction, like small-clawed otters, have also been trafficked for these cafes, violating international bans.
The problem extends beyond individual animals. These cafes may stimulate demand for exotic pets, with visitors leaving and thinking, ‘I want a baby capybara.’ This has led to a surge in the illegal pet trade, prompting the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) to adopt measures to curb it. ‘The global pet trade is out of control from a conservation perspective,’ says Sue Lieberman of the WCS. In China alone, the number of petting zoos and animal cafes skyrocketed from fewer than 100 in 2020 to over 1,800 in 2025.
Even countries without imported species are worried. In Costa Rica, police recently seized five capybaras from traffickers, fearing they could become invasive if released. Capybaras breed rapidly, tolerate various climates, and have flexible diets, making them a high risk for local ecosystems. ‘There’s a real danger of them becoming invasive,’ warns Elizabeth Congdon, a capybara biologist.
So, while these cafes offer a unique experience, they come with a hidden cost. Here’s the question we should all be asking: Are these fleeting moments of cuteness worth the potential harm to animals and ecosystems? Let’s keep the conversation going—what do you think? Is the rise of animal cafes a harmless trend or a serious ethical issue? Share your thoughts below!
