Trapped in a Tank: The Hidden Cruelty of the Tropical Fish Trade
From The Observatory
Source: Earth Food Life Project
Wilde the oscar fish spent 12 agonizing years in a tiny, toxic tank at a car dealership—a cruel fate shared by countless tropical fish sold as “decorations.”
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This adapted excerpt is from The Dog Who Wooed at the World: Laughing Through Severe Anxiety With My Soul Pup and More Tales of Courage From the Every Animal Project, compiled by Laura Lee Cascada (2004, The Every Animal Project). It is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) with permission from The Every Animal Project. It is adapted and produced for the web by Earth • Food • Life, a project of the Independent Media Institute.
“Trapped in a Tank: The Hidden Cruelty of the Tropical Fish Trade” by Cameron Edwards is licensed by the Observatory under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0).
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Introduction
Tropical fish are among the most popular pets in the world, with millions sold every year to brighten aquariums in homes, offices, and even car dealerships. Yet behind their vibrant colors lies a hidden crisis. Most buyers don’t realize that fish are sentient animals who can feel pain, remember, and form social bonds—and that caring for them properly is far from simple. The result is an industry built on misinformation and suffering, one that harms not only individual fish but also fragile ecosystems. The story of Wilde, an oscar fish rescued from a New York car dealership, reveals why the way we treat tropical fish deserves far more scrutiny.
Wilde’s Story
The first 12 years of Wilde’s life are mostly unknown, but based on the condition he was found in, we can only imagine that those years were hell for him. What we do know is that those years were spent in a bare 55-gallon fish tank in the waiting room of a New York car dealership.
To understand why this was excruciating for Wilde, let’s consider how tricky it is to mimic nature in a glass box. Fish food and fish waste produce ammonia, which is harmful to fish even in small amounts. The tanks require a method to convert this ammonia into a safer compound. Typically, they use “nitrifying bacteria” to convert it to nitrite and then nitrate, which is only bad for them in high quantities. Unfortunately, Wilde’s water at the dealership had traces of ammonia, burning his gills and skin, and high levels of nitrate, which can cause nitrate poisoning.
Another major problem: oscar fish like Wilde are very large. The width of a 55-gallon tank is 13 inches, and Wilde measures 13.5 inches long. This meant he had to contort his body just to be able to turn around. His tank only gave him 48 inches to swim across, meaning his body already took up a third of the tank’s length. Just imagine living in a broom closet for a dozen years, while the air is burning your skin and slowly making you sicker. That was life for Wilde, the oscar fish.
Luckily, a member of a New York-based animal sanctuary happened to be at this car dealership and noticed Wilde. Even without knowledge of aquatic animals, it was clear to this person that this fish was not in good shape. Wilde’s entire body was strewn with open lesions—hexamitiasis, commonly referred to as hole-in-the-head disease. His scales were all black; not one speck of a tiger oscar’s classic orange-gray color scheme could be seen. What’s more, Wilde’s left eye did not match his right. It was smashed in and severely deformed. While we don’t know precisely what caused this, it likely started as a minor eye injury, increasing in severity over time as Wilde’s constantly stressed body and weakened immune system were unable to heal the injury. Wilde lost all sight in this eye, which would never return.
Concerned, the sanctuary person talked to the dealership’s owner, who agreed to surrender Wilde. They ended up reaching out to someone else in the sanctuary community, who then reached out to us at Still Water Microsanctuary. Our place here in Ohio didn’t have the space and resources to properly care for an oscar fish at the time, but luckily, we found a foster in Michigan who agreed to hold on to him for a few months while we got set up. With a plan in place, we rented a car, drove eight hours to NYC to pick Wilde up, and then drove eight hours back. The fact that Wilde survived that journey, in as rough a shape as he was in, is a testament to his resilience against all odds.
Wilde’s healing process was slow, but consistent. He lived in a 90-gallon tank at his foster—not ideal, but a significant upgrade nonetheless—and he made friends with two large common plecos while he was there. Meanwhile, back in Ohio, we secured a tank, a heavy-duty filter, and other necessary supplies—but even then, establishing a healthy nitrogen cycle in a brand-new fish tank has complicated steps. It takes a lot of time and patience, contrary to what most pet stores claim. It took two and a half months to get the 150-gallon tank ready for Wilde, but as soon as it was, we drove out to Michigan and brought Wilde—plus his two new friends, Pitter and Patter—home to Ohio.
After finding his final home with us, Wilde blossomed into the spunkiest, most beautiful, most outgoing fish I’ve ever met. His skin and eye healed (though he remained blind in it), and his orange colors returned (or came in for the first time). Wilde still had lots of scars that would never fade entirely, but he showed them off proudly. They were a part of his story and who he was. Though Wilde was very happy in his 150 gallons, we had planned to upgrade him to even more space eventually. That is, until we took an unexpectedly bloated Wilde to the vet one day to discover a tumor. Despite our best efforts to find a blood donor and fundraise for his surgery, the tumor turned out to be too connected to vital organs. We said goodbye to Wilde in August 2023.
Celebrating his life with a tribute video of all our fondest memories, we wanted to remember Wilde for who he was, not the misfortune he went through. He was a big, silly, carefree grump with a whole lot of likes and dislikes of his own. He played with ping pong balls and loved digging trenches and making hills in the sand—a typical behavior undertaken by cichlids (the family of fishes containing oscars like Wilde) to establish territory, make nests, or simply redecorate their surroundings. Wilde also had a mischievous side. He’d often sneak up on Pitter and Patter to steal their veggies, and he’d throw temper tantrums if he wasn’t getting his way. (Oscars are known for their hair-trigger tempers.) These tantrums would often involve Wilde opening his mouth as if screaming while aggressively shaking his butt from side to side. His fins would even turn bright orange during his fits. But most of the time, Wilde remained a gentle giant. That’s what I included in the video—how he deserves to be remembered.
The Bigger Picture of Keeping Tropical Fish
Most of these fish will never get the second chance that Wilde got. And while Wilde’s rescue was rare, his suffering is common—countless tropical fishes endure similar fates every day.
What seems like a peaceful hobby often hides a trail of harm. The tropical fish trade is massive: the global ornamental fish market was estimated at $5.9 billion in 2022 and is projected to surpass $11 billion by 2030. About 55 million marine animals—including fish, corals, and invertebrates—are sold annually, worth more than 2.1 billion. In this trade, up to 30 million marine fish may be removed from coral reefs each year.
Mortality rates throughout the supply chain are staggering. Some studies estimate that up to 80 percent of marine aquarium fish die between capture and final sale, and in the Philippines, as many as 98 percent perish within one year.
“For every fish sold, six others died from reef to retail,” Rene Umberger, founder of For The Fishes, an organization that advocates for the protection of wild fish, told The Dodo in 2017. “What we’ve learned is that people just don’t know that these animals are captured to begin with.” Scientific evidence also shows that fish experience pain (up to 22 minutes of intense pain when taken out of water), recognize individual human divers, and form social bonds—making their mistreatment all the more troubling.
A Call to Compassion
Wilde’s story is a reminder that fish are not ornaments, but living beings with personalities, preferences, and the capacity to suffer. He should never have spent 12 years in a tank that could barely contain his body. Yet millions of other tropical fishes endure the same fate, sold as decorations under the false promise that they are “easy pets.”
The most powerful way to break this cycle is simple: refuse to buy fish, speak up when you see them mistreated, and share the truth about what proper care really involves. Supporting sanctuaries and advocates working to protect aquatic animals is another way to make a difference. One honest conversation, one informed choice, can help ensure that fewer fish endure what Wilde went through—and that more of them are recognized for what they truly are: individuals who deserve compassion.
