Animal Passions and Beastly Virtues: Reflections on Redecorating Nature

  • Marc Bekoff
Temple University Press: 2005. 320 pp. $70.50 (hbk), $26.95 (pbk) 1592133487 | ISBN: 1-592-13348-7

In T. H. White's The Once and Future King (G. P. Putnam, 1958), Merlin educates a young King Arthur by transmogrifying him into other creatures. Sometimes Arthur is an ant, and considers everything in the world only as ‘done’ or ‘not done’. Sometimes he is a falcon, overcome in mid-sentence by a desire to kill his conversational partner. For many of us, the game of wondering ‘What is it like to be a wildebeest?’ never loses its charm. In Animal Passions and Beastly Virtues, Marc Bekoff explores this question in the context of cognitive ethology.

The book is really a collection of papers that Bekoff published between 1977 and 2004 on five main topics. The sections on social behavior in canids and on the functions of play fit neatly into conventional behavioural ecology. The quality of these original papers varies, from an excellent and influential paper on the social ecology of coyotes to a paper on scent-marking with a single subject, Bekoff's dog Jethro.

In three sections on animal minds, interactions between humans and animals, and the ethics of studying animals, Bekoff skates boldly on to thin ice at the edges of science and philosophy. In the section on emotions, cognition and animal selves, Bekoff argues that many species have minds, emotions and a sense of self that bear recognizable similarities to those of humans. As well as providing case studies, Bekoff argues that invoking the existence of emotions or intentions often provides the most parsimonious explanation of behaviour. He also notes that the selection pressures that produced cognition and emotion in humans are shared by social carnivores, primates and birds, and he applies the principle of evolutionary continuity to suggest that similar outcomes may have arisen in the minds of other species. In addition to the more conventional argument that homologues of emotion are likely in non-human apes, he argues that convergent evolution may have produced emotions in species more distantly related to humans. This is thought-provoking material for anyone who wonders what the world is like for other species.

A caring embrace? Marc Bekoff explores the impact of humans on prairie dogs. Credit: G.D. LEPP/CORBIS

The book focuses mainly on Bekoff's work with dogs. Readers seeking broader surveys might also be interested in Animal Social Complexity edited by Frans de Waal and Peter Tyack (Harvard University Press, 2003), or Why Men Won't Ask For Directions by Richard C. Francis (Princeton University Press, 2003).

Bekoff's essays on the interactions between humans and other species raise important questions for those who study animals or who simply care about their conservation and well-being. The section on anthropogenic effects focuses on Bekoff's work with prairie dogs and domestic dogs. These papers are informative but for a broader view of the impact of humans on animals, the interested reader might also look at Wildlife and Recreation by R. L. Knight and K. J. Gutzwilller (Island Press, 1995).

The ethics of our interactions with other species provides the basis for some challenging discussions. Bekoff often concedes that these issues cannot be resolved, but he makes a compelling case that the questions are worth our attention. He argues that we should apply the precautionary principle to our interactions with animals. In conservation biology, we should err on the side of caution when forced to make recommendations based on imperfect information. He makes a thoughtful case that because we cannot be sure that animals are not conscious, emotional individuals, it is wise to treat them with dignity and tread lightly. We need to be reminded of this point.

In short, this is a thought-provoking book that forces the reader to consider issues that are important but are often left at the fringes of our work. I found a lot with which I agreed, and a lot with which I disagreed. Examples of each might be revealing.

First, two disagreements. Bekoff argues that “classical definitions cannot be given for key terms in cognitive ethology, but it is not necessary to give them in order to have a viable field of research”. On this issue, I agree with Donald Griffin, who in his book The Question of Animal Awareness (Rockefeller University Press, 1976) took pains to state at the outset “this is what I mean by mental experiences” and went on to define ‘mind’, ‘awareness’, ‘intention’ and ‘consciousness’. In my view, one cannot test a falsifiable hypothesis that a species has intention without first clearly defining what intention is. Bekoff also supports Stephen Jay Gould's assertion that “the plural of anecdote is data”. I agree that anecdotes can offer important insights, but anecdotes are collected and disseminated selectively, whereas data are collected systematically or randomly. The plural of anecdote is not ‘data’, but ‘essay’.

And here are two agreements. “We will never learn about animal morality if we close the door on the possibility that it exists. It is still far too early to draw the conclusion that human morality is different in kind from animal morality and walk away in victory.” And: “While ignorance may be bliss, ignoring questions about our ethical responsibilities to animals compromises not only their lives and our integrity, but also the quality of scientific research”. Marc Bekoff, by forcing us to consider animal minds and our ethical obligations to animals, is pushing the field of behaviour in interesting directions.