Humans and Other Animals: A Modern Heretic's View

During my year at the London School of Economics in 2004-05, I heard the British philosopher John Gray offer one of the most provocative and compelling arguments of our times. He argued that human beings were merely one among many animals on the planet, but "secular" Western philosophers, historians and scientists, particularly those since the 18th century, had inherited the anthropocentric prejudices of their Christian predecessors and had thus exaggerated modern ideological notions of human progress, development, and mastery over nature. Gray, ever the maverick philosopher, saw his task as demystifying (and occasionally demolishing) these modern myths, especially secularism and progress, in order to posit a more harmonious balance between humans and other animals. Let me point out here that Gray is not your regular postmodern professor in the United States: for most of his career, he positioned himself as a liberal theorist, writing erudite tomes on John Stuart Mill and Isaiah Berlin, but has grown increasingly disillusioned with contemporary liberalism, particularly after his involvement in Lady Thatcher's neoliberal project in the 1980s. At the very least, Gray's views ought to be considered carefully.

The Argument Against Anthropocentrism

I shall leave aside my views on John Gray's understanding of liberalism for another post. My focus here is his "anti-humanist" stance that puts human and non-human animals on par with each other. Some of us may find Gray's stance disagreeable or eccentric, but I take it very seriously. Why? Because it questions our deepest assumptions in the social and natural sciences. It challenges us to question our inherited understanding of politics, society and history. And it urges us to rethink our interactions with nonhuman animals in our personal lives.

The most obvious evidence for putting humans on par with other animals comes from evolutionary theory. (As many of you know, I find no contradiction between being a firm Darwinian and upholding my religious/spiritual commitments). If natural selection, a fundamentally amoral process (as Richard Dawkins keeps reminding us), is the basis of life on earth, then there is a radical equality inherent in the evolutionary process. Some organisms are bigger, others are smaller; some are fat, while others are thin; some look cute, others do not. But the fact remains that the building blocks of life are the common denominator for all organisms. More importantly, if we regard evolution as an amoral process rather than one driven by a benevolent deity, then we cannot attribute human survival or evolution to intelligence, sociability or any "talent" that is unique to the species; these are merely adaptations to the environment, effects rather than causes of evolution. In short, from a purely biological/biochemical perspective, it is fairly simple to put humans in their place, that is, with other animal species on the planet.

But surely, you may argue, language, intelligence and emotions distinguish humans from other animals? I disagree. Linguistic ability is hardly unique to humankind. We know at least since Aristotle that bees, for instance, have complex linguistic systems to communicate. So too do dogs, cats, horses, tigers, elephants, and countless other animal species. It's quite another matter that we may not be horse-whisperers. But that does not give anyone the license to conclude that nonhuman animals do not possess the gift of language. That sort of impertinence is akin to the ignorant Spanish conquistadors labelling the Amerindians "savages" and "barbarians" because they were neither Christians nor speakers of a European language. There is every reason to believe that nonhuman animals express verbally and non-verbally thoughts that humans can express in words alone. Likewise, intelligence is hardly a singularly human trait. Skeptics may argue that there is no Shakespeare or Netwon outside the circle of humanity, but I can easily retort that these intellectual standards are peculiar to humans alone. There are certainly animal geniuses whose olfactory abilities or endurance are well beyond human capabilities just as composing splendid sonnets might be out of reach for most nonhuman animals. Also, it isn't clear to me whether the average human is smarter than the average nonhuman animal. The same mix of dolts, average joes, and geniuses occur among human and nonhuman animals. IQ or some such humanly-designed test doesn't help to settle matters; we are almost certain to struggle on any nonhuman test of intelligence that involves navigation, catching prey or smell. And if you thought only humans could experience or express emotions, think again! Recent research, despite all its limitations, suggests otherwise. Nonhuman animals can, therefore, express regret, happiness and a wide gamut of emotions commonly imagined to be uniquely human.

Some Key Implications

Rejecting anthropocentrism in the natural and social sciences as well as in everyday life has rather profound implications. The entire edifice of Western philosophy and science is built on the Judeo-Christian premise that man (anthropos) is the center of the universe. Why? Because the Scriptures say so in order to posit a sacred covenant between the human species and the Abrahamic God. Any reader of the Torah or the Christian Old Testament can hardly dispute the centrality of human beings in the narrative that unfolds.The doctrine of human exceptionalism on which Western humanism rests historically is a demonstrable fiction of Judeo-Christian origin. Why then should we continue to retain a secularized version of the same demonstrable fiction? At least in my opinion, doing so is about as intellectually unsound as defending creationism.

By rejecting anthropocentrism and human exceptionalism, we open up the possibility of more equitable relations between humans and other animals. Furthermore, we open up the possibility of extending the social contract beyond humans to the animals that coexist with us. In a certain sense, such social contracts already exist for centuries in rural and urban communities in the Orient and Occident alike. There is nothing peculiarly rural or non-Western about social contracts that cover wild animals, farm animals, pets or even animals for slaughter. Yet there is something that is being lost in our cities today, especially among the ruling class everywhere (by contrast, humbler folks happily share their world with nonhuman animals). Intellectuals emerge largely from this same class, and hence, our theories reflect their anthropocentric prejudices. Recognizing the falsity of human exceptionalism paves the way for a new philosophy, science, and history. The obsessive Continental quest for discovering the expressive aspects of our being or our phenomenological selves can perhaps be thwarted in this manner. So too can science regard nonhuman species as intelligent, sentient beings rather than mere instruments for human experimentation and play. And historians can explore and appreciate the dialectics that define human-animal relations in different times and places.

A necessary caveat is in order here. My argument does not imply that relations between humans and other animals are meant to be cuddly or cute. Human animals relate to other animals in much the same way that nonhuman animals relate to each other (though each species obviously has its own "stereotypical" or peculiar ways of doing so). The lion does not lie with the lamb, except in the wildest fancies of utopian theologians. Neither can humans be expected to deviate from their omnivorous ways (except in special circumstances and contexts) to conform to some utopian project designed by a small minority. This is a vital consideration because some human societies today and earlier have tended to attach great cultural capital to abstinence from meat and other animal products. Such elitism, vegan, Buddhist/Jain or otherwise, which I label "Neo-Brahminism" in today's context, is a minority response that ought to be studied sociologically as a peculiar tendency of homo hierarchicus across time and space. It is, however, hardly the default option because the majority of humans everywhere continue to be stubbornly omnivorous. Let's face it: Peter Singer's utilitarian calculus isn't likely to convert most of us to the Neo-Brahminical camp. For the majority of humankind, therefore, veganism, vegetarianism and their cousins will forever remain the domain of a bunch of effete socially-detached ideologues whose idea of human-animal relations is restricted to their expensive lapdogs or some such marker of their superior social status.

For many, my argument might sound paradoxical or even contradictory. How can I argue for treating humans on par with other animals yet defend omnivorous behavior? Just like one can treat all human societies/cultures, past or present, on par in moral terms, without necessarily committing to the utopian/minority project of pacifism that persistently emerges across human history. I see no contradiction in my argument. It is a pragmatic rather than a utopian one. It acknowledges that all relations, human-human or human-animal, involve trade-offs that cannot be simply wished away. It is quite justifiable for us to be concerned about the well-being of horses, tigers or dogs, while consuming beef, pork, lamb, chicken or any other animal meat. In fact, it is quite justifiable for us to be concerned about the treatment of animals in mega-industrial farms and slaughterhouses while consuming animal meat. Recognizing animals as intelligent, sentient beings does, by no means, imply that some of them cannot be eaten. What can be eaten and what cannot is ultimately a culturally-specific question, certainly a worthy subject for anthropologists and historians to study. My detractors may claim that the logic of my argument could justify even cannibalism. I agree that this is a distinct possibility, however limited its scope may be historically or today, but like Herodotus, I am too much of a cultural relativist to denounce even cannibalism in the manner that Spaniards and other Europeans did at the dawn of modernity.

Conclusion

So what might one reasonably be expected to take away from this post? You are, of course, welcome to view it as an eccentric contribution by an oddball. But, by doing so, you would merely be guilty of perpetuating the theological, philosophical and scientific prejudice of anthropocentrism and human exceptionalism that plague our planet. Most of us who call ourselves "modern" live in a manner that is deeply at odds with other animals. I tend to agree with John Gray that such an existence is fundamentally delusional and is responsible for the grossly irresponsible manner in which modern human animals relate to their nonhuman peers. So here are my suggestions: be a bit kinder to the nonhuman animals around you, pay a bit more attention to their needs and interests, and try to coexist a bit more meaningfully with them. Such a change in orientation is hardly a substantial one in the context of our everyday lives, but its implications will be nothing short of revolutionary. Whatever else happens, guard against the false temptation of utopian projects, and try to share the joys, sorrows, or even banal existence of our nonhuman friends. We may or may not succeed in creating a better tomorrow for everyone, but at the very least, there is the tantalizing prospect that we may become more humane, and I dare say, truly liberal souls...