As government leaders continue reaffirming the need to move away from animal research, the industry’s panic is spilling into public view.
In a newly-published piece in The Scientist, former animal researcher and Americans for Medical Progress spokesperson Naomi Charalambakis calls on the animal research industry to go on the offensive against so-called “misleading narratives.”
But read closely.
Charalambakis implies that campaigns built on official records, government reports, and other formal documentation are misleading without challenging the authenticity of the records themselves—making clear that this fight is not about the facts.
This is a fight over narrative control, and it’s being waged on behalf of an industry that itself relies on the spread of misinformation.
The Real Problem for Industry: People Are Paying Attention
The public is engaging with the reality of animal research in ways it never has before—and that’s a crisis for the industry.
Because the more the public sees, the less the public supports.
For decades, the industry has relied on distance, on keeping its practices out of view and out of public conscience. That distance is collapsing evermore as records circulate, stories spread, and scrutiny grows.
Unable to restore that distance, the industry is pivoting—not toward transparency, but toward managing perception.
From Hiding the Truth to Policing Its Release
Animal advocates are not fabricating stories. We are exposing documented ones.
We are sharing government and other public records.
We are surfacing what happens to animals inside laboratories.
We are making the invisible visible.
In doing so, we are forcing public and political attention.
This is precisely the dynamic Charalambakis describes and objects to. Not by denying what the records show, but by scrutinizing when they are shared, how they are interpreted, and how they shape public debate.
The Records Speak for Themselves
Charalambakis claims that the records highlighted by advocates are “frequently misunderstood.” They’re not.
A ferret skinned alive is not a misunderstanding. It’s what the official record reports.
A baboon strangled through negligence is not a misunderstanding. It’s what the official record reports.
An infant monkey bagged and placed in a cooler while still alive is not a misunderstanding. It’s what the official record reports.
Even Charalambakis suggests that such incidents are “an inherent aspect” of animal research. On that point, she’s right: These are not anomalies. They’re part of how the system operates.
The animal research industry’s concern is not public confusion—it’s public understanding.
When Exposure Can’t Be Stopped, It Must Be Managed
Unable to contest the substance of the records, the industry’s focus shifts to process. Charalambakis criticizes advocates for highlighting violations that may be more than a year old, suggesting that doing so misleads the public.
But this critique ignores how those records become public in the first place.
They surface slowly because the system is opaque; because agencies take time to release information; because access often depends on formal requests; and because transparency is limited and frequently resisted.
Advocates don’t control the timeline. Yet, the criticism is directed at them—not for what the records show, but for when the public sees them.
“Context” and the Theater of Accountability
Charalambakis argues that records are often presented “without context,” suggesting that the records themselves or the advocates presenting them omit key details (such as corrective actions) that would alter public perception.
But those details are often referenced, and advocates frequently address them head-on. The issue is that they tell a very different story than the one the industry wants the public to believe.
Again and again, government records document animals suffering and dying due to staff error, negligence, incompetence, or worse—followed by a familiar script: staff retraining, protocol review, policy reinforcement. Then, business as usual.
What is missing from the records is not “context,” but consequence. Meaningful penalties are rare because accountability is rare.
The Myth of Regulation
Charalambakis grounds much of her argument in the claim that animal research is heavily regulated.
She even describes animal research as “one of the most heavily regulated environments in modern science.” If that’s true, it’s a devastating indictment of the entire scientific enterprise. Because this is what that animal research “regulation” actually looks like:
➢ A federal law that excludes over 99% of all animals used for research, prohibits no procedure labeled “scientific,” and is enforced by an agency that lacks meaningful punitive authority.
➢ A federal policy that lacks the force of law, applies only to federally-funded labs, and relies on self-reporting.
➢ A private accreditation body that is funded by the very labs it accredits and operates with the government’s favor—despite evidence that accredited labs are responsible for almost 75% of the most serious animal welfare violations documented by the USDA.
➢ Institutional Animal Care and Use Committees (IACUCs) formed and controlled by the labs themselves (nevermind Charalambakis’ characterization of them as “independent” bodies) and barred from evaluating either the ethics or scientific validity of the experiments they review.
This is the system Charalambakis describes as one of “rigorous oversight”—when, in truth, it’s a system structured to preserve itself.
Animal Labs are Not Like Daycares
Charalambakis ultimately compares animal research facilities to daycare centers. Both, she argues, involve care, incidents, and systems of reporting that should sustain public trust.
That grotesque comparison collapses immediately.
Daycares exist to protect children.
Animal labs exist to use—and harm—animals.
To accept this analogy is to accept a version of “care” in which those responsible:
➢ Drop babies to the floor and, then, crush or trample them.
➢ Give them “toys” that kill them.
➢ Restrain them until they bleed, struggle to breathe, and asphyxiate.
➢ Bag and stuff them inside a cooler while still alive, only to find them later gasping (and, then, kill them).
No one would defend such a daycare facility.
No one would excuse the harm so long as the offenders reduce it to writing and claim they’ll do better next time.
And no one would allow it to continue operating.
The Narrative is Cracking
While the animal research industry’s operations continue largely unchanged, Charalambakis shows us that the narrative protecting it is beginning to fracture.
For decades, the industry relied on distance, secrecy, and public disengagement. It still does, but that foundation is eroding. The truth is reaching wider audiences, and both the public and policymakers are responding.
The result is an industry left scrambling.
Attacking the messengers.
Leaning on absurd, indefensible analogies.
Reframing documented harm as misrepresentation.
But this is not about misrepresentation.
It’s about exposure.
And, it’s only the beginning.
Your Call to Action: Uncover the ugly truth about animal experimentation the research industry doesn’t want you to see.
With ARLO, Rise for Animals offers the first-of-its-kind public database where anyone can access legally obtained records of animal experiments happening at facilities across the country. Search tens of thousands of documents—with more added all the time—to see what’s really happening to animals inside a research lab near you.