
When giant pandas arrive at the San Francisco Zoo next year, the City is expected to pay a pretty penny each year to host them — but it’s an investment that’ll likely pay for itself.
San Francisco is poised to welcome its next era of “panda diplomacy” in 2025; the last time giant pandas was in 1985 when a pair, Yun-Yun and Ying-Xin, stayed at the zoo for only three months during those years during the two’s global tour. In fact, should San Francisco’s plan for its incoming pandas go off without a hitch, the seven-by-seven will have the most pandas — the San Francisco Zoo, which will house the giant pandas, is already home to a colony of red pandas — of any major metro outside of mainland China. That’s wild (and will fiscally bode well for tourism).
Like all giant pandas in zoological facilities outside of mainland China, the massive bears are essentially “rented” out to these institutions for specific amounts of time by the Chinese government. The idea of lending out these iconic animals — now considered the face of global wildlife conservation — began in 1941 when China sent two pandas to the United States as a “thank you” for helping Chinese refugees during the war with Japan. The gift, too, was also
That initial act of charitable gratitude would later evolve into a fully-fledged state program in 1984; per policy changes enacted by the People’s Republic of China, pandas were no longer “gifted” to countries, but rather sent out under strict leasing agreements. And, thus, began “panda rent” existing alongside “panda diplomacy.”
How much participating governments pay to rent China’s captive-bred giant pandas is somewhat elusive. But given a recent report from The New York Times, it’s likely — very, very likely — that San Francisco will pay no less than $1 million a year to “rent” the pair of pandas whenever they arrive in 2025. The final bill will climb past $10 million, should the pandas stay for a decade, which has become the international lease-term standard.
(While giant pandas are largely solitary animals outside of breeding seasons, China has historically sent pairs to foreign zoos; the idea of leasing pairs was initially ideated as a hope the two pairs, a male and a female, would mate and produce a cub; the ensuing decades proved captive pandas were terrible in naturally copulating; less than 5% of captive male pandas can successfully mate, and female pandas held in zoological facilities tend to have abnormally short fertility windows, to boot.)
Where those rent payments are contentious, according to the Times, the Chinese government allocated the majority of its panda diplomacy profits toward public infrastructure and private-sector housing. While giant pandas are, indeed, still an endangered species with less than 1,900 left in the wild — a figure that’s decreasing, year after year, due to deforestation, urbanization, and the climate crisis — and 600 in captivity, China gives up most of its earning from panda lease agreements toward objectives outside conversation efforts. That’s … well, pretty [insert expelice phrasing here].
It’ll have been forty years since giant pandas dwelled in San Francisco by the time the city gets its pair next year. And, honestly, you can’t put a price on the amount of joy (and tourism dollars) the two will bring.
