As of March 2026, Hanoi still had 97 captive bears across 19 facilities, including 70 bears held by private households. Phuc Tho alone accounted for 68 bears across 16 households, making it the country’s most concentrated hotspot for long-term bear captivity. These animals are largely remnants of a legal gray zone from earlier decades, when bear ownership was documented and microchipped for management purposes but not legalized as a permanent commercial right.

This legal legacy has created a difficult policy challenge. Existing regulations require owners to care for registered bears until the end of the animals’ lives, while current law lacks clear mechanisms for broad compulsory confiscation of previously registered captive bears. As a result, ending captivity depends heavily on voluntary surrender—a strategy that has produced results, but not quickly enough.

Between 2020 and early 2026, Hanoi’s captive bear population declined by 106 individuals. However, 66 of those reductions came from deaths due to age or illness, while only 40 bears were transferred to rescue centers. In 2025 alone, nine captive bears died in Hanoi, but only three were surrendered for rescue. This imbalance reveals a troubling ethical reality: many bears are spending their final years in confinement rather than being moved to more humane sanctuary environments.

Conservation organizations such as Education for Nature Vietnam (ENV) argue that while natural mortality may statistically reduce captive numbers, passive decline is not an acceptable strategy. Bears rescued earlier have greater opportunities for rehabilitation, veterinary care, and improved welfare in semi-natural sanctuary conditions.

Public awareness campaigns have helped reduce demand for bear bile and changed social attitudes, but experts increasingly emphasize that stronger government leadership is now essential. Recommended measures include regular interdisciplinary inspection teams, more intensive local dialogue with bear owners, stricter monitoring of illegal trade or product use, and the establishment of a national “no compensation” transfer policy to remove financial incentives for delay.

Community pressure is also critical. As bear farming becomes increasingly socially unacceptable, neighbors, family members, and local residents can become influential advocates for voluntary surrender.

Hanoi’s leadership role is especially significant because success in the capital could effectively determine whether Vietnam reaches its national “zero bear farming” target. With only around 142 captive bears remaining nationwide, decisive action in Hanoi could dramatically accelerate final progress.

Ultimately, this issue is not only about wildlife law—it is about moral responsibility, conservation credibility, and whether society chooses urgency over inertia.

For the remaining captive bears, time is profoundly important. Each delayed transfer may mean another animal loses its final opportunity for recovery in humane conditions.

Vietnam has already proven that ending bear farming is possible. The remaining challenge is whether Hanoi—and particularly Phuc Tho—can now act with enough speed, clarity, and determination to help close one of the country’s longest-running wildlife welfare chapters for good.