On why natural history has to be led by science not anthropomorphism
The stability and richness of the natural world are uniquely
comforting. There is grandeur in its infinite variety and scale, mystery in its
whys and wherefores, and spectacle in its creations and events.
The story is there.
In her recent book ‘Why Animals Matter,’ Marian Dawkins
addresses the difficulty of asserting consciousness in animals. Emotions have
three parts – the behaviour; the physiological occurrences and the subjective emotion.
We know that animals have the first two, but we don’t know
whether they have the third. You may think ‘if it looks like a duck and quacks
like a duck, then it’s a duck,’ but everything we know from neuroscience tells
us that, while animals differ as to what extent, they do not feel emotions in the same
way that humans do.
For example, hybrids of one kind of weaver bird with other
species are born with the ability to make a nest, but not with the ability to
carry out the mating behaviour necessary to lure a mate. So such individuals
merely build a nest and deconstruct it again. This is an example of how complex
behaviour can be genetically ingrained, and does not necessarily require thought
or knowledge of purpose.
But does it matter whether an animal can ‘think’ or not? Feeling an urge to run away from a painful or dangerous stimulus may
be just as valid a reason to respect their condition as if they were capable of a more complex assessment of the situation. We don’t know how much a baby can think, but that doesn’t
make its ill treatment any less abhorrent than that of an adult – a baby has
nerves after all, and can sense and respond.
However, most animals cannot think to the
same extent that we do – they do not contemplate relationships and consequences
in the same way, and dealing with abstract tasks and concepts is typically impossible, even if for their own survival
advantage. For example, a mother duck often doesn’t know how many ducklings she
has, because she cannot count, and so often does not react if one of them goes
missing.
As such, describing a bear cub as ‘little Mickey, cuddling up to his
Mum, fearful of the future challenges he must face in order to keep the family
alive’ is just wrong – misleading, because neuroscience says animals probably
do not think to that depth – and lazy, because there are so many interesting
stories to tell about how, why and what animals DO think and do.
The natural world is a treasure trove of information and
stories. Let’s revel in that storytelling resource by doing away with the frame of human platitudes.
