Hi again, everybody,
Consider this the promised followup both to (a) Ray's earlier question
about drawing distinctions between human and nonhuman animals, and to (b)
Dreamer's repeated and often penetrating questions about the moral
significance of suffering and consciousness.
Ray wrote:
>But Jim, the problem for me with your point (^^^^), is that nowhere in
>this discussion can I find a generalized ethical principle . . . which
>provides for a distinction between . . . *human animals* and * . . .
>non-human animals*. Certainly, utilitarianism does not provide for that
>distinction? [ellipses added--JT]
Now, to be sure, what Ray *actually* wrote was:
>"[N]owhere in this discussion can I find a generalized ethical principle
>on killing which provides for a distinction between killing *human
>animals* and *killing non-human animals*."
But I think the first, elided, version of Ray's question is applicable to
the larger and more general question of how we justify the differential
treatment of nonhuman animals versus humans, which is expressed in
Dreamer's comment:
Dreamer:
>We come back then to the question of how you can justify doing things to
>animals that you would not allow to be done to humans.
I'd like to introduce some additional materials for consideration that may
address Ray's and Dreamer's well-stated concerns about this discussion.
Daniel C. Dennett explores the issue of animals' minds (both human and
nonhuman) in his 1996 book, Kinds of Minds: Toward an Understanding of
Consciousness (New York: Basic Books). Dennett expresses doubts about the
possibility of ever drawing a precise ethical line between humans on the
one hand, and those nonhuman animals who should count morally on the other.
After reviewing the scientific research that has been done in the fields of
animal ethology and cognitive studies, Dennett (who is Director of the
Center for Cognitive Studies at Tufts University) comments:
"It is _ possible _ , of course that further research will reveal a
heretofore undetectable system of similarities and differences which will
properly impress us, and we will then be able to see, for the first time,
where nature has drawn the line, and why. This is not a possibility on
which to lean, however, if we can't even imagine what such a discovery
might be, or why it would strike us as morally relevant. (We might just as
well imagine that one fine day the clouds will part and God will tell us,
directly, which creatures to include and which to exclude from the charmed
circle.)" (at162)
Throughout the book Dennett explores the differences between animal and
human cognition, and argues persuasively that while human
self-consciousness arose evolutionarily from animal proto-minds, the human
mind represents a quantum leap beyond animal cognition not just in degree,
but in kind. Dennett writes: "In our survey of kinds of minds (and
protominds) there does not seem to be any clear threshold or critical
mass--until we arrive at the sort of consciousness that we language-using
human beings enjoy." (162) Dennett's (and others') views about the
importance of human language helped inform my earlier emails about
consciousness, speech, and suffering, to which Dreamer responded with the
following summary:
Dreamer:
>We come back then to the question of how you can justify doing things to
>animals that you would not allow to be done to humans. Some of the
>rationales offered to date in this list discussion: animals can't speak
>(or at least we're not smart enough to understand them); animals don't
>suffer (by way of proof, the assertion is made that only self-concious
>beings really suffer); animals aren't self-concious beings (no proof
>offered); [snip]
I would like simply to add some additional brief excerpts from Dennett's
book, in order to clarify and/or to illustrate the points I have been
making all along with regard to consciousness, language and suffering.
Hopefully this will also provide additional background for addressing the
above objections regarding evidence (or lack of "proof," in Dreamer's
terms).
In discussing the evolution of mind, Dennett distinguishes between
first-order intentionality (beliefs and desires), which is easily or
commonly attributed to animals, and higher orders of intentionality, e.g.
beliefs and desires *about* beliefs and desires; beliefs and desires about
*those* beliefs and desires; and so on. Dennett argues these higher orders
of intentionality form the basis (evolutionarily) for conscious thinking.
While his discussion is a bit too involved to summarize here, he does
emphasize that such higher order intentionality represents a difference in
kind, and not just in degree, from previous evolutionary forms of animal
cognition: "[H]igher order intentionality is, as I and others have argued,
an important [evolutionary] advance in the kinds of minds . . . ." (121)
Dennett emphasizes the evolutionary importance of human language in humans'
going beyond animal minds, and employs a "slingshot" metaphor to make his
point:
"There is no step more uplifting, more explosive, more momentous in the
history of mind design than the invention of language. When _Homo sapiens
_ became the beneficiary of this invention, the species stepped into a
slingshot that has launched it far beyond all other earthly species in the
power to look ahead and reflect." (147)
[Now, in the interest of saving time, at this point the best I can do is
commend to the list Dennett's lengthy discussion of the development of
language and its evolutionary significance for the development of
consciousness.]
Yet, anticipating potential objections, Dennett says that the moral
conclusions one can draw from the insight about the uniqueness of human
consciousness are limited. Thus, in a section entitled, "Pain and
Suffering: What Matters," he redirects the focus of moral enquiry back to
the more traditional questions about pain and animal suffering:
"That [human] variety of mind is unique, and orders of magnitude more
powerful than any other variety of mind, but we probably don't want to rest
too much moral weight on it. We might well think that the capacity for
suffering counts for more, in any moral calculations, than the capacity for
abstruse and sophisticated reasoning about the future . . . . What, then,
is the relationship between pain, suffering, and consciousness?" (162)
I hope the list will bear with me while I quote a somewhat lengthy passage
discussing the relations between pain and the human psychological
phenomenon of "dissociation." This subject, however, bears directly on the
question of what we can reasonably infer about (the extent of) animal
suffering.
Dennett writes :
"The phenomenon of pain is neither homogenous across species, nor simple.
We can see this in ourselves . . . ." (162)
--"Consider the widely reported phenomenon of _ dissociation _ in the
presence of great pain or fear. When young children are abused, they
typically hit upon a desperate but effective strategm: they 'leave.' They
somehow declare to themselves that it is not they who are suffering the
pain. There seem to be two main varieties of dissociators: those who
simply reject the pain as theirs and then witness it from afar, as it were;
and those who split at least momentarily into something like multiple
personalities ('I' am not undergoing this pain, '_ she _' is). My not
entirely facetious hypothesis about this is that these two varieties of
children differ in their tacit endorsement of a philosophical doctrine:
Every experience must be the experience of some subject. Those children
who reject the principle see nothing wrong in simply disowning the pain,
leaving it subjectless to wander around hurting nobody in particular.
Those who embrace the principle have to invent an alter to be the
subject--'anybody but _ me _!'
--"Whether or not any such interpretation of the phenomenon of dissociation
can be sustained, most psychiatrists agree that it does work, to some
degree. That is, whatever this psychological stunt of dissociation
consists in, it is genuinely analgesic--or, more precisely, whether or not
it diminishes the _ pain _, it definitely _ obtunds suffering _. So we have
a modest result of sorts: the difference, whatever it is, between a
nondissociated child and a dissociated child is a difference that markedly
affects the existence or amount of suffering. (I hasten to add that
nothing I have said implies that when children dissociate they in any way
mitigate the atrocity of the vile behavior of their abusers; they do,
however, dramatically diminish the awfulness of the effects on
themselves--though such children may pay a severe price later in life in
dealing with the aftereffects of their dissociation.)"
Why is all this significant for the question of nonhumans' suffering?
Dennett explains:
--"A dissociated child does not suffer as much as a nondissociated child.
But now what should we say about creatures that are _ naturally _
dissociated--that never achieve, or even attempt to achieve, the sort of
complex internal organization that is standard in a normal child and
disrupted in a dissociated child? An invited conclusion would be: such a
creature is constitutionally incapable of undergoing the _ sort _ or _
amount _ of suffering that a normal human can undergo. But if all nonhuman
species are in such a relatively disorganized state, we have grounds for
the hypothesis that nonhuman animals may indeed feel pain but cannot suffer
the way we can." (pp. 162-163) [all emph. orig.]
He concludes with a wry exclamation:
--"How convenient! Animal lovers can be expected to respond to this
suggestion with righteous indignation and deep suspicion. Since it does
indeed promise to allay many of our misgivings about common human
practices, absolving our hunters and farmers and experimenters of at least
some of the burden of guilt that others would place on their shoulders, we
should be particularly cautious and even-handed in considering the grounds
for it. We should be on the lookout for sources of illusion--on both sides
of this stormy issue. " (163)
Tantillo:
Notice here that Dennett is not in fact arguing dogmatically that "animals
don't suffer." He is simply raising the concern, with which I concur (and
that I have been raising all along), that equating animal pain with animal
suffering is very likely an unwarranted presumption. And I completely
concur with his admonition, "We should be on the lookout for sources of
illusion--on both sides of this stormy issue."
As a final aside, Dennett adds:
"The suggestion that nonhuman animals are not susceptible to human levels
of suffering typically provokes a flood of heart-wrenching stories--mostly
about dogs." (163-164)
[He goes on to speculate how the evolution of dogs might have resulted in
giving them a greater capacity for actual suffering than other animals:
"Our ancestors engaged in selective breeding, but they didn't think they
were doing so. This unwitting favoritism, over the eons, has made our dogs
more and more like us in ways that appeal to us. Among other traits we
have unconsciously selected for, I suggest, is susceptibility to human
socializing, which has, in dogs, many of the organizing effects that human
socializing also has on human infants. By treating them as if they were
human, we actually suceed in making them more human than they otherwise
would be." (165)]
For what it's worth. . . .
******************
Please note that I don't think Dennett (or I) "prove" anything in any kind
of definitive or theoretically certain way about the existence/nonexistence
of animals' pain or suffering. I simply continue to maintain that these
issues are very complex and will likely remain so.
I hope the material presented here both supplements and helps clarify some
of my previous posts on the subject. And my thanks to all for bearing with
the extensive quotations,
Jim Tantillo
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