Copyright 1997 By Pam Noble
Ever since it occurred to western scientists
towards the end of
the nineteenth century that animals may have the
capacity to
learn, there has been a fierce debate over whether
that
capacity would be similar to our own, or if it is
related to
experiencing emotions. The lack of inquiry to that
point can be
largely attributed to the notion that only humans
have souls,
and it is from the soul that all of the
aforementioned qualities
originate.
Thus, attributing emotions to animals is
anthropomorphism,
which is considered nearly blasphemous in many
scientific
circles even today. The argument can be boiled down
to two
basic sides; the hard-nosed, "they're just dumb animals" viewpoint on one side, and the liberal, "they're as emotionally complex as we are" position on the other. Most people
vacillate on the opinion scale somewhere between
the two
extremes, but before we can settle somewhere
comfortably in
the middle, we need to know what both sides are
proclaiming.
Many scientists contend that animals do not have
emotions as
we understand them, simply because they aren't
humans. Their
brains are not as complex as humans', and their
behavior
seems to be based on an unsophisticated "drive to
survive"
instinct. Emotions are abstract concepts, and most
animals are
unable to display any behaviors that would indicate
an ability
to think on such a level. When they do display
behaviors that
many people like to interpret as emotion-driven;
i.e., "the
dog's wagging his tail because he's happy;" it is
actually an
inherent response of which the dog is quite
unaware. This is
believed to be triggered by certain environmental
conditions,
and was probably selected for at some point in
evolution
because it raised the general fitness to survive
for that species.
Such behaviors are usually linked with
mother/infant bonding
necessities for survival insurance.
However, the fact that their brains are not as
complex as ours
does not necessarily lead to the conclusion that
they are
unaware of their reasons for action. Thus we have
the more
liberal individuals that claim that animals don't
have to be as
complex as we are to experience emotions. Neurological
studies seem to indicate that the root of emotions
in humans
comes from a very primitive area of the brain, the
morphology
of which is quite similar to that of most mammals.
Therefore
our most basic "maternal" instincts to protect
families we have
labeled as love, but it is neurologically the same
thing other
animals experience. The problem with all of this is
it has not
been proven conclusively that emotions do come from a
particular part of the brain, or that the extent of
those emotions
in animals do not reach the level of those in humans.
Furthermore, even if they do experience emotions on
some
level, we can't assume it is similar to our own
experience.
Their entire life experience is from a viewpoint we
really can
only imagine. Some will even go so far as to claim
we can't
truly know if an animal, say caught in a hunter's
trap, is in any
physical pain. We can state that it appears to be
suffering, but
cannot state such an idea conclusively. And even if
they could
tell us what they're feeling, it would be done with
words we
taught them, which are all humanistic terms that
cannot be
applicable to their situation. Humans don't even
completely
understand each other when we talk about how we
feel. Every
individual has different life experiences, genetic
and chemical
compositions, and so the idea of emotion most
likely also
differs from one individual to the next, however
slightly.
Aside from becoming completely existential and
declaring that
the likelihood of any of life being real is quite
minimal, many of
these claims on both sides seem quite valid.
However, to get
along from day to day, we must assume that we have
a pretty
good idea of what someone means when she say she's
"mad
at her landlord because he won't fix the faucet."
Even if we
have not had a similar experience with a landlord,
we have all
been upset with other individuals for not doing
what we expect
them to do. We can then make the step that we have
a pretty
good idea what animals are feeling, because their
expressions
of emotions are recognizable to us on some level.
It could be
said that animals do have emotions that are akin to
our own,
which is proven by the fact that we recognize them,
even
though the behaviors that express those emotions vary
radically among species. Why would we know a
wagging tail
indicates happiness in a dog to us, when that's not
what we do
when we're happy?
This recognition strikes a very deep chord in us,
as well as the
animal's ability to recognize those emotions in us.
Even those
who insist that animals have no emotional capacity
respond to
this. When we are upset, our pet dogs (and
sometimes cats)
seem to know, and react by displaying behaviors
that seem
remarkably to be an attempt at consolation. They
cuddle up,
they try to incite play, they mope with us, and we
respond by
hugging them, playing, and usually we feel a little
better in the
belief that they may be empathizing with us.
But the idea of animals' possessing emotions
because we
recognize them as such can be alternately explained
as "seeing
what we want to see." The animal will continue the
behavior
because it has been trained to do so, having
received rewards
in similar experiences previously.
Another aspect of the argument is that animals
simply do not
learn. It has been common knowledge since the dawn of
civilization that animals can be trained, but being
trained is not
the same thing as learning. We can use the word
"train" to
describe their ability to detect certain
cause/effect situations,
and thereby leave out any hint of actual learning.
Learning
involves meditating over information presented and
coming to
an understanding of the material, it's origins, and
it's purpose.
Animals are simply able to ascertain that action A
will lead to
result B, but action C will lead to result D.
However, the very concept of reward and punishment,
which
scientists readily accept as effective means to
train their lab
animals, insinuates a basic understanding on the
animals part to
know pain from pleasure - they don't want to feel
physical
pain, but they do want to taste some good food.
They quickly
ascertain, whether it is via a conscious process or
somehow
gleaned from repeated experiences by the
subconscious, that
if they push the correct button, they get the
treat, but the
wrong one gives them a shock.
Also, many humans have observed animals to perform
acts
they were not deliberately trained to do, yet the
act itself had
no direct relation to anything required for
survival (although it
usually does involve a reward for the animal; i.e.,
figuring out
how to unlock a cabinet to get at those yummy
treats the
humans are always so stingy with). However, some
people
have had powerful experiences with other species,
wherein the
animal (non- human) was not only able to comprehend
the
state of the human (other animal) but then acted in a
completely altruistic manner in what seemed to be
an attempt
to better the situation. Binti, the gorilla that
"saved" the
three-year old that fell in her enclosure last
summer, is a
much-touted example. But Binti's actions can only be
explained by Binti. Whether she had a true grasp of
the
situation, or simply did what, according to her
experience,
seemed most likely to earn her a nifty reward, will
never be
known until we can figure out how to talk to her in
non-human
terms.
In a more spiritual aspect, one could claim that
animals do
have souls, depending on which concept of "soul"
one wishes
to use. This is evidenced by the fact that they can
find means
to communicate emotional meaning with us, despite
the fact
that we are not clever enough to have ascertained
their
languages. If emotions stem from souls, then it
must be our
souls communicating, which have no need of a physical
language. On the other hand, there is no evidence
in western
religious doctrine that animals are anything more
than a natural
resource for our use. There are many other
religions that do
attribute a parallel concept of "soul" to animals,
but they seem
to have very little bearing on most western
paradigms.
Finally, the concept of evolution as a process toward
achieving some "perfect" species has been misused
since it
was first proposed. Alexander Pope, for one, viewed
it as a
ladder or chain, reaching from the primordial ooze
towards
heaven. We, being the most complex species yet (as
far as we
know), are at the top of the terrestrial portion of
the ladder,
but still a few rungs shy of the angels, which are
at the bottom
of the celestial hierarchy. God is sitting on the
top of the
ladder, perfectly balanced on the uppermost rung,
perfect
being that he is. This whole frame of mind allows
us to claim
superiority over everything on the earth, and then
exploit it all
at our convenience. Even chimpanzees, which are
uncomfortably similar to ourselves for many, have
not figured
out a way to get that last 2% of DNA to evolve in
such a way
that they can appreciate an opera, Leonardo
DaVinci, or the
space shuttle. They can't contemplate the cosmos or
our
position in it, and they are therefore inferior.
They seemingly
haven't evolved souls yet.
Looking at both sides of the coin, I find that
"moderation in all
things" is a fairly good way to go. The trick is to
not get
complacent in that position, but to always search
for new
information that may shed more light on our
understanding of
the world around us. It seems to me, no matter
which angle
any problem is viewed from, it is due to our own
intellectual
shortcomings that we can't see that the meaning of
life, the
universe and everything is right in front of us in
glaring neon
lights. If any species is in need of evolving to a
"higher" level, it
is us.
References:
Darwin C. (1965): Expression of the Emotions in Man
and
Animals. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL.
Kennedy J.S., (1992): The New Anthropomorphism.
Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, England.
King J. & Aurelio J. (1997): The Five-Factor Model
Plus
Dominance in Chimpanzee Personality. Journal of
Research in
Personality. In Press: March.
Konner M. (1982): Tangled Wing. Holt, Rinehart and
Winston, New York, NY.
Masson J. & McCarthy S. (1994): When Elephants Weep:
The Emotional Lives of Animals. Random House, London,
England.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Pam Noble has interests in
cognition, evolutionary hypotheses, and comparative
physical
studies of primates. Currently serving as a
volunteer assistant
at ChimpanZoo, the research program of the Jane
Goodall
Institute, she is an Anthropology Major at the
University of
Arizona, and the proud mother of two bi-pedal primates
(kids!). Reach her at PamNoble@aol.com