In 2003, a shipment of exotic pets arrived at an Illinois pet store. Among the cargo: Gambian giant rats from Ghana, destined for American living rooms. Within weeks, nearly 100 people across the Midwest had contracted mpox—the first outbreak of the disease in the United States. The culprit wasn't the rats themselves, but the cramped conditions of international transport, where the African rodents infected prairie dogs, which then infected their new owners. It was a preview of a pattern we'd see play out on a much larger scale two decades later.
The Mathematics of Mixing Species
A study published this month in Science reveals something most people probably haven't considered: the wildlife trade itself creates disease risk, regardless of which animals are involved. Researchers analyzed more than 40 years of data on 2,079 traded mammal species and found that 41% share at least one transmissible pathogen with humans. Compare that to non-traded animals, where the figure drops to just 6.4%.
The relationship is almost linear. For every 10 years a species spends in wildlife markets, it shares one additional pathogen with humans. This isn't because traded animals are inherently "dirtier" or more disease-ridden than their wild counterparts. As researcher Jérôme Gippet from the University of Fribourg puts it: "It's not really about the species; it's more about the humans."
The trade encompasses everything from pet sales to traditional medicine, meat markets to fur operations. About 25% of all mammal species move through these channels, both legal and illegal. Each transaction, each transport, each market stall creates opportunities for pathogens to jump between species that would never naturally encounter each other.
The Pangolin Problem
If you want to understand how wildlife trafficking amplifies disease risk, look at pangolins. These scaly anteaters hold the unfortunate distinction of being the world's most trafficked mammal. Between 2014 and 2018 alone, authorities seized the equivalent of 370,000 pangolins globally—suggesting millions more slipped through undetected.
The numbers from Nigeria tell the story. Pangolin scale seizures jumped from 2 tons in 2015 to at least 51 tons in 2019. Nearly 60% of global pangolin scale seizures trace back to Nigerian ports, where traffickers often use the same routes and networks they've established for ivory. The scales end up in traditional medicine markets across Asia; the meat is sold as a delicacy.
In October 2016, pangolins received the highest level of international protection under CITES. The trafficking accelerated anyway. Seizures of illegal cargo from Africa to Asia increased tenfold after 2014. Wild sourcing is clearly unsustainable, but commercial-scale captive breeding remains impossible. The trade continues because demand persists and enforcement gaps remain wide.
Pangolins were among the leading suspects as an intermediary host for COVID-19, which scientific evidence suggests originated at the Huanan Seafood Wholesale Market in Wuhan. The market housed live wild animals—raccoon dogs, civets, Himalayan marmots—in cramped quarters where viruses could easily jump between species. Whether pangolins played a direct role in COVID-19 remains uncertain, but their presence in such markets illustrates exactly how spillover events happen.
Why Contact Matters More Than Species
The conventional wisdom about zoonotic diseases focuses on identifying "risky" animals—bats, rodents, primates. But the new research suggests we've been asking the wrong question. The issue isn't which species carry pathogens; it's how often and under what conditions humans contact them.
Ebola outbreaks typically start after contact with bats, sometimes hunted for food or traditional medicine. The 2003 mpox outbreak happened because exotic pet imports created a bridge between African rodents and American prairie dogs. COVID-19 likely emerged where wild animals from different ecosystems were crammed together in market cages, then handled by dozens of people daily.
"There's no safe trade," Gippet says. "Trade, in itself, creates the opportunity for pathogen transmission." This doesn't mean every traded animal will spark a pandemic. Most zoonotic pathogens don't harm humans or can't spread between people. But every new contact point, every additional species in the supply chain, every market stall increases the odds that a virus or bacterium will find the right conditions to evolve into something more dangerous.
The majority of emerging infectious diseases originated in animals before jumping to humans, according to the UN Office on Drugs and Crime. As Executive Director Ghada Waly notes: "Pangolins offer no threat to humans in their own habitat, but allowing them to be trafficked, slaughtered and sold in illicit markets along with other wild species greatly increases the risk of transmission of viruses and other pathogens."
Beyond Bans and Surveillance
The instinct after COVID-19 was to call for shutting down wildlife markets entirely. But the reality is more complicated. Legal wildlife trade supports livelihoods across the developing world. Blanket bans often just push commerce underground, making it harder to monitor and regulate.
Wayne Getz, an ecologist at UC Berkeley, argues the study "emphasizes the importance of having much better controls and regulation of the wildlife trade." That means strengthening disease surveillance systems globally, using predictive models to identify which pathogens deserve research priority, and creating rapid-response plans for when potential outbreaks are detected.
It also means recognizing that wildlife trafficking threatens more than biodiversity. The same criminal networks moving pangolin scales move ivory, drugs, and weapons. The same weak governance that allows illegal wildlife trade to flourish creates vulnerabilities for disease outbreaks to spread unchecked.
The question isn't whether we can eliminate all risk from human-animal contact—we can't. It's whether we're willing to treat wildlife crime as the health and security threat it actually is, not just an environmental concern. The next pandemic is probably already circulating in an animal somewhere. Whether it reaches humans may depend on whether that animal ends up in a shipping container or a market cage.