As interest in animals continues to grow among all groups of people, it should come as no surprise if analyzing our extra-species relationships has become intellectual fodder for topic-hungry academics. One of the things that strikes me as interesting about the new academic fashion known as Animal Studies is the constant reminder that humans are animals, too.
Well, duh, you may say—any child knows that. Yet everything we learn as adults seems to contradict this plain fact. Of course, some religions place humans between animals and the divine. But even science, our modern-day standard of truth, seems to gloss over the place of Homo sapiens in the natural order.
We see proof of this is in the nearly total disregard for what is happening to other life forms across the planet. Amphibians are disappearing so rapidly, half of the world’s species could be gone within our lifetimes. Every day we read about the devastating effects of habitat loss, pollution, climate change, and deadly new diseases as if this hardly concerns us.
Clearly, we do not think of humans as animals, even though we, like all creatures, require plants to eat, air to breathe, water to drink, and light from the sun to survive—and which no breakthrough in technology can replace.
Intellectually, of course, we understand that everything is interdependent, and that losing whole species will eventually affect everything further up the food chain. Yet scientific truth falls on deaf ears when it contradicts a more fundamental belief: the awesome supremacy of humankind.
Humans believe we are masters of the universe, exempt from the laws of nature because of our big brains that have sent rockets to the moon, sequenced DNA, and cured polio. Such accomplishments are mind-blowing, of course, only from the standpoint of the human mind. But what other measure is there?
Consider the perspective of Planet Earth. What does all of human accomplishment amount to? Since every living thing strives to exist and reproduce, that is nature’s ultimate good. And from the standpoint of maintaining a rich diversity of life on Earth, humans have contributed precious little indeed. The dawn of agriculture was a huge leap for humankind because it opened up the leisure to write poetry, pursue philosophy, and invent particle physics. But it also spelled the beginning of the end for creatures that had thrived on Earth for millennia.
Today, unfortunately, it is becoming clear that we have wrecked things to such a degree that there is no turning back, and not even a “small group of thoughtful, committed citizens” (in Margaret Mead’s famous phrase) could act in time to change the world. But we can change our minds.
Consider that humans may be animals, after all, and reflect this reality in speech: “humans, and other animals,” “animals, including humans.” Speech is, after all, supposedly what makes us superior to other animals.
If only it could deliver us from our animal fate.
Keiko Ohnuma
Editor & Publisher