In recent years, the idea that cats should live strictly indoors has spread as an unquestionable truth. Institutional campaigns and social media messages insist that keeping them indoors protects both their health and that of wildlife. ‘A win-win situation’, they repeat incessantly. But a new study asks us to curb this simplistic enthusiasm, because confining cats may save wildlife, yes, but it does not necessarily improve their well-being. And when you decide to close the doors to the outside world, the responsibility for their physical and mental health increases dramatically.
Until just a century ago, cats lived in a state of semi-freedom that was part of their role in human communities. They controlled rodents, roamed between houses and streets, hunted, reproduced, and fought. In the contemporary urban world, this status quo has been broken, and traffic, population density, infectious diseases, and concerns about biodiversity have driven their confinement. What was once the norm (cats with complete freedom to explore their environment) is now seen as irresponsible and cruel to other species.
However, feline domestication is too recent to erase the mark of this free behaviour. Most cats retain instincts of exploration, hunting and territorial surveillance that do not disappear with a closed door. Therefore, the shift to an exclusively indoor life has been as rapid as it has been demanding in terms of well-being, and what has been gained in safety has been lost in stimulation, movement and mental health.
‘You can’t call the mere absence of danger well-being.’
The main authors of the study, anthrozoologist Carmen Glanville and wildlife veterinarian Jordan Hampton, are categorical: ‘The claim that confinement is good for cats is a very big leap and highly dubious.’ They clarify that they are not disputing the environmental benefit: ‘The benefit to wildlife is undeniable,’ but they warn that physical safety and wellbeing are not synonymous.
A cat that does not go outside may be free from parasites, being run over and fights, but it faces other risks, such as chronic boredom, obesity, urinary problems and behavioural changes. The figures confirm this, and indoor cats tend to have more behavioural disorders and metabolic diseases. As the researchers point out, ‘these cats still face significant risks to their well-being, just of a different nature.’ For researchers, severely limiting the freedom of movement and natural behaviours of any species has consequences. And accepting this is an ethical duty, not a sentimental stance.
The price of doing the right thing
The debate over feline confinement tends to be divided between those who seek to protect biodiversity and those who focus on individual welfare. ‘The win-win discourse (i.e., the supposed situation where both parties win),’ explains Carmen Glanville, ‘has unintended consequences, such as leading owners to believe that confining their cat is enough to protect it and, at the same time, contribute to the common good. But this narrative does not prepare them for the behavioural and welfare challenges that such confinement entails.’
When public discourse insists only on safety, carers tend to underestimate the need for environmental enrichment. In other words, they assume that keeping a cat indoors is a passive form of care, when in fact it requires active and constant investment. A confined cat needs not only a roof, litter box and food, but also stimulation, observation areas, hiding places, daily play routines, opportunities to climb and explore, social interaction and peaceful rest. Not all homes are equipped to provide this environment and take on the effort.
Furthermore, in dense urban contexts, the available space is often reduced, and the risks of excess weight and sedentary lifestyles increase. In rural areas, where cats still have partial access to the outdoors, the transition to a completely indoor life can be especially difficult. Adapting to these realities, the study indicates, requires more nuance than simply ‘keeping your cat indoors.’
Not all confinement is the same
In fact, the problem is not indoor life itself, but how it is managed. Most cats are perfectly happy in flats, as long as their environment offers sufficient sensory diversity and opportunities for control. Windows, terraces or catios that allow them to look outside, toys that mimic hunting, tall scratching posts, respectful human companionship and rotating enrichment are tools that transform the experience of confinement. But when the environment is poor, routine or chaotic, the effects are devastating. Compulsive behaviours are signs of deep discomfort. In fact, the science of animal welfare has insisted for decades that the concept of animal welfare must include the possibility of feeling pleasure, curiosity and having control over one’s own environment.
More honesty, more trust
Glanville and Hampton’s work does not propose abandoning feline confinement, but rather telling the whole story. ‘We are not saying that cats should not be kept in captivity,’ Glanville clarifies, ‘but the narrative that “everyone wins” is misleading and can harm both the cat’s welfare and the effectiveness of conservation campaigns.’ Presenting confinement as an act free of dilemmas undermines the credibility of institutions and misleads carers. Accepting that it is an imperfect balance (a decision with advantages and sacrifices) does not weaken the message, but rather strengthens it. It allows us to speak transparently about what it really means to care for an indoor cat, which involves more commitment, more time and more attention.
