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Animal rights is a catchphrase akin to human rights. It involves,
however, a few pitfalls. First, animals exist only as a concept.
Otherwise, they are cuddly cats, curly dogs, cute monkeys. A rat and a
puppy are both animals but our emotional reaction to them is so
different that we cannot really lump them together. Moreover: what
rights are we talking about? The right to life? The right to be free of
pain? The right to food? Except the right to free speech – all the
other rights could be relevant to animals.
But when we say animals, what we really mean is non-human organism.
This is such a wide definition that it easily pertains to potential
aliens. Will we witness an Alien Rights movement soon? so, we are
forced to narrow our field to non-human organisms which remind us of
humans and, thus, provoke empathy in us. Yet, this is a dangerous and
not very practical test: too many people love snakes, for instance and
deeply empathize with them. Will we agree to the assertion (which will,
probably, be avidly supported by these people) that snakes have rights
– or should we confine our grace to organisms with nervous systems
(=which, presumably, can feel pain). Even better is the criterion :
whatever we cannot communicate with and is alive is a rights-holder.
Historically, philosophers like Kant (and Descartes, and Malebranche
and even Aquinas) did not favour the idea of animal rights. They said
that animals are the organic equivalents of machines, moved by coarse
instincts, unable to experience pain (though their behaviour sometimes
might deceive us into erroneously believing that they do). Thus, any
moral obligation that we have towards animals is a derivative of a
primary obligation towards our fellow humans (the morally significant
ones and only ones). These are the indirect moral obligations theories.
For instance: it is wrong to torture animals because it desensitizes us
to human suffering and makes us more prone to using violence towards
humans. Malebranche augmented this rational line of thinking by proving
that animals cannot suffer pain because they do not descend from Adam
and all the pain and suffering in the world are the result of his sins.
But how can we say whether another Being is suffering pain or not?
The answer is based on empathy. If the other Being is like us – than
surely he has the same experiences and, therefore, deserves our pity.
The Jewish Talmud says: "Do not do unto thy friend that which is hated
by you". An analysis of this sentence renders it less altruistic than
it first sounds. The reader is encouraged to refrain from doing only
things that he himself finds hateful (SS men, for instance, did not
find killing Jews hateful). In this sense, it is morally relativistic.
The individual is the source of moral authority and is allowed to spin
his own moral system, independent of others. The emphasis is on action:
not to DO. Refraining from doing, inaction, is not censored or
advocated against. Finally, the sentence establishes an exclusive moral
club (very similar to later day social contractarianism) of the reader
and his friend(s). It is to his friends that the reader is encouraged
not to do evil. He is exempt from applying the same standard, however
lax, to others. Even a broader interpretation of the word "friend"
would read: "someone like you" and will substantially exclude
strangers.
Empathy as a differentiating principle is wrong because it is
structural: if X looks like me, resembles me, behaves like me – than he
must be like me in other, more profound and deep set ways. But this is
a faulty method used to prove identity. Any novice in mathematics knows
that similarity is never identity. Structurally and behaviourally
monkeys, dogs and dolphins are very much like us. It is a question of
quantity, not quality, that is used to determine the answers to the
questions: is this animal worthy of holding rights, is it a morally
significant Being. A human resembles us more than a monkey does, and,
therefore, passed the critical phase and deserves to live and to do so
pain-free and happy. The quantitative test is coupled with an
examination of the ability to communicate (manipulate
vocal-verbal-written symbols within structured symbol systems). But
that we use the same symbols – does not guarantee that we attach to
them the same cognitive interpretation and the same emotional baggage.
The symbols could be identical – the meanings disparate. This century
witnessed an in-depth exposition of the frailty of our assumptions
regarding the monovalence of symbol systems and of our ability to
exactly map meanings. This is so much dependent upon historical,
cultural, personal contexts – that there is no saying that two people
mean the same when they say a simple word like "red" (not to mention
more complex ones like "love" or "I"). In other words : that another
organism looks like us, behaves like us and talks like us is no
guarantee that he is like us. This is the subject of the famous
Turing-Church Test (see one of my next articles for a deeper analysis):
there is no effective way to distinguish a machine from a human being
because we have to absolutely rely on structural and symbolic clues.
To say that something does not experience pain cannot be rigorously
defended. Pain is a subjective experience. There is no way to prove or
to disprove that someone is or is not in pain. Here, we can rely only
on the subject's reports. Moreover, even if we had an analgometer (pain
gauge), there would have been no way to show that the phenomenon that
activates the meter is one and the same SUBJECTIVELY (=that it is
experienced in the same way by all the subjects examined. Even more
down to earth questions regarding pain are impossible to answer: what
is the connection between the piercing needle and the pain REPORTED (no
way to prove or know that it is really felt) by the pierced subject and
between these two and the electrochemical patterns of activity in the
brain? a correlation between them can be established – but is
correlation an identity or even indicative of the existence of a
causative process? Put differently: can we prove that the brain waves
experiences by the subject when he reports pain – ARE that pain? Or
that they CAUSED the pain (or that the pain caused them – but then what
caused the pain)? If we neutralize the pain (by administering a
non-harmful medication) is it moral to stick needles into someone just
for the fun of it? Is the very act of sticking needles into someone
immoral – or is it immoral because of the pain associated with it
(statistically)? Are all the three components (needle sticking, a
sensation of pain, brain activity) morally equivalent? If so, is it as
immoral to generate the brain activity (without inducing any sensation
of pain)? If they are not morally equivalent – why not? They are, after
all, different facets of pain – shouldn't we condemn all pain? Or
should one aspect of pain (the report of the subject attributing to
himself pain) be accorded a privileged treatment and position? We have
to admit that the subject's report is the weakest link in the chain. It
is not scientifically verifiable. And if we cling to this
descriptive-behavioural-phenomenological definition of pain than
animals qualify as much as humans do. They also exhibit all the
behaviours normally attributable in humans to pain and they also report
it (though they do tend to use a more limited vocabulary).
Pain is a value judgement and the reaction to it is culturally
dependent. In some cases, it can be perceived as positive, be sought
after. How would we judge animal rights in such historical and cultural
contexts? Are there any "universal" values or does it really all depend
on interpretation? If we, humans, cannot agree and separate the
objective from the subjective, the rational from the cultural – what
gives us the right to decide for other organisms (without getting their
approval)? We have no way of knowing: maybe pigs prefer to get
slaughtered. In the Aztec cultures, being chosen as a sacrifice to the
Gods was a high honour and to be chosen was a burning desire. We cannot
decide right and wrong, good and evil for those with whom communication
is barred.
We can direct our questions only at ourselves. Is it UNIVERSALLY and
ABSOLUTELY moral to kill, to torture, to pain? The answer seems obvious
and it automatically applies to animals. Is it absolutely and
universally moral to destroy? No and this answer applies to buildings
and to natural treasures. We should clearly define the exceptions: it
is permissible to kill and to inflict pain in order to prevent a
(quantitatively or qualitatively) greater evil, to protect life, to
enhance them and when no reasonable and feasible alternative is
available.
The chain of food in nature is morally neutral and so are death and
disease. Any act which is intended to sustain life of a higher order
(and a higher order in life) – is morally positive or, at least
neutral. Nature decreed so. Animals do it animals – but they optimize
their consumption and avoid waste and unnecessary pains. Waste and pain
are morally wrong. This is not a question of hierarchy of more or less
important Beings (this is the fallacy of anthropomorphesizing Nature).
It is just like this.
The distinction between what is (essentially) US – and what just
looks and behaves like us (but is NOT us) is false, superfluous and
superficial. Sociobiology is blurring the lines and Quantum Mechanics
(and its main interpretations) has taught us that we have to stick to
appearances. We can say nothing about what the world really IS. If
things look the same and behave the same, we better assume that they
are the same. The attempt to say that moral responsibility is reserved
to the human species is self defeating: if so, definitely we have a
moral obligation towards the weaker and meeker – if not so, what right
do we have to decide who shall live and who shall die (in pain)? The
"fact" that species do not interbreed (which in itself is not true –
viruses infiltrate our genetic material constantly and we all saw
mules) – "proves" that species are different, say some. This is a false
premise mixed with curious blindness: true, interbreeding is rare but
who can deny that most of the genetic material is common to us and to
mites?
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