THE
"HAMMER TEST"
Humans
generally value other humans and "higher"
animals more than "lower" animals, plants,
and non-living objects. This can be demonstrated by
having students conduct a mental exercise described
as the "hammer test." Lining up the virus
and living organisms in order from primitive to recently
derived, you are asked to mentally consider taking a
hammer and smashing the organism. At what point would
you hesitate? At what point would you definitely stop?
Why would you stop in that exact spot? A good biology
class with an understanding of the small gradations
between these organisms will see how difficult it is
to draw a line for many properties. A teacher who poses
this mental exercise must be ready to help students
clarify their concepts of "hurt" and "pain"
and "consciousness."
It
is important to help students understand how they cannot
avoid "harming" some organisms. Every time
a student swallows, thousands of mouth bacteria perish
in stomach acid. Every defecation abandons billions
of bacteria to dehydrate or rupture. Perhaps 150,000,000
yeasts are killed when you bake a loaf of bread. A predator
that doesn't eat prey dies. The amino acids that we
require are not all readily available in plants, thus
revealing our ancestry was not strictly vegetarian.
The more students learn, the more they will realize
that concepts of life and death and pain and awareness
are not black-and-white distinctions, but fade into
gray areas. The science teacher helps the student learn
this by "holding the students against the real
world."
Erwin
Schroedinger, in an important 1945 book, What is Life?,
described how the ability to perceive the world was
a property of most organisms, if not of all life itself.
Of course, for a Paramecium that bumps into a wall,
this "perception" is little more than a simple
predictable chemico-physical response, certainly not
the mental imaging we develop when we collide with a
wall. The "ends" for some factors are clear:
the Paramecium is not conscious or self-aware; the Chimpanzee
is. "We have no evidence that organisms lacking
a central nervous system are capable of thinking about
objects and events." (Griffin, 1984) But as we
proceed to examine more recently derived animals, we
observe greater abilities to sense changes in the broader
environment, to organize and interpret these sensations,
and to respond with a more complex repertoire of behaviors.
Finally, we observe David Attenborough, in Life On Earth,
crouching in the midst of a family of mountain gorillas
and whispering to the camera: "There is more meaning
and mutual understanding in exchanging a glance with
a gorilla than with any other animal I know...."
And we listen when Jane Goodall reports that Chimpanzees:
"...are capable of reasoned thought, generalization,
abstraction, and symbolic representation. They have
some concept of self. They have excellent memories...show
a capacity for intentional communication . . . show
emotions that are undoubtedly similar, if not identical,
to human emotions-joy, pleasure, contentment, anxiety,
fear, and rage. They even have a sense of humor."
(Goodall, 1987) See the OTA report for lists of animals
used in education and their similarities and differences
to human anatomy and physiology.
LIFE
and DEATH are often seen as an absolute good and bad,
respectively. Yet to save the life of a plague-infected
animal or human requires that we promote the death of
the bacteria. Students in developmental biology are
surprised to learn that animal development depends as
much on certain cell lines dying at the appropriate
time as it does on cell proliferation. Normal human
cells live in tissue culture only several dozen replications,
whereas cancer cell lines appear to be immortal. In
evolution, death is a major agent in natural selection,
and essential to keeping the numbers of maladapted individuals
low.
PAIN
is likewise vital to the survival of humans and complex
animals. Pain is required for both the human baby and
the young kitten to define where their bodies end and
where the environment begins. It stops you from twisting
the pickle jar lid so hard you damage the tissues in
your hand. Leprosy patients without pain wear away fingers
and toes. Children born with a rare absence of pain
perception laugh as they seriously cut themselves and
others. Pain is therefore as vital to life as sight,
and we know it must be inflicted at certain times for
greater good, as in receiving a MMR inoculation.
EMPATHY
is the ability you have to put yourself in another person's
shoes: "I know what she means." "I know
what he must feel." This is based on the commonsense
observation that people are very much alike in the way
they perceive the world. It is obviously a trait we
value greatly, the base of the "golden rule"
in many cultures, and a process that (combined with
symbol communication) makes history and literature possible.
While we value empathy with other people and encourage
it in our students, we must be very careful to distinguish
this from the sympathy we may give a dog or cat. From
our understanding of their structural differences and
experimental evidence, we can be sure they do not perceive
the world as we do. As you rub your cat under the ear,
assuming it "likes" the massage, the smell-oriented
feline is more likely getting an itch scratched, an
"itch" more closely related to scent-marking
than to affection for an owner.
ANTHROPOMORPHISM
is the error of reading human characteristics into animals
that couldn't possibly possess them. It is promoted
by giving animals human names, by children's picture
books with animals that talk and behave as humans, and
by referring to mommy and daddy animals where there
is no evidence of parental investment. Biology teachers
have contributed to this by using animals' organs as
representative models for the human system and not pointing
out the differences that exist as well.
IMAGINATION--Much
more work remains to be done on varieties and degrees
of higher animal thinking (see Griffin, 1985), but one
distinction between humans and other animals that can
be understood by many students is "imagination,"
as described by Jacob Bronowski:
"What
goes on in the mind when we imagine? You will hear from
me that one answer to this question is fairly specific:
which is to say, that we can describe the working of
the imagination. And when we describe it as I shall
do, it becomes plain that imagination is a specifically
human gift. To imagine is the characteristic act, not
of the poet's mind, or the painter's, or the scientist's,
but of the mind of man.
"My
stress here on the word "human" implies that
there is a clear difference in this between the actions
of men and those of other animals. Let me then start
with a classical experiment with animals and children
which Walter Hunter thought out in Chicago about 1910.
That was the time when scientists were agog with the
success of Ivan Pavlov in forming and changing the reflex
actions of dogs, which Pavlov had first announced in
1903. Pavlov had been given a Nobel prize the next year,
in 1904, although in fairness I should say that the
award did not cite his work on the conditioned reflex,
but on the digestive glands.
"Hunter
duly trained some dogs and other animals on Pavlov's
lines. They were taught that when a light came on over
one of three tunnels out of their cage, that tunnel
would be open; they could escape down it, and were rewarded
with food if they did. But once he had fixed that conditioned
reflex, Hunter added to it a deeper idea: he gave the
mechanical experiment a new dimension, literally--the
dimension of time. Now he no longer let the dog go to
the lighted tunnel at once; instead, he put out the
light, and then kept the dog waiting a little while
before he let him go. In this way Hunter timed how long
an animal can remember where it has last seen the signal
light to its escape route.
"The
results were and are staggering. A dog or a rat forgets
which one of three tunnels has been lit up within a
matter of seconds--in Hunter's experiment, ten seconds
at most. If you want such an animal to do much better
than this, you must make the task much simpler: you
must face it with only two tunnels to choose from. Even
so, the best that Hunter could do was to have a dog
remember for five minutes which one of two tunnels had
been lit up.
"I
am not quoting these times as if they were exact and
universal; they surely are not. Hunter's experiment,
more than fifty years old now, had many faults of detail.
For example, there were too few animals, they were oddly
picked, and they did not all behave consistently. It
may be unfair to test a dog for what it saw, when it
commonly follows its nose rather than its eyes. It may
be unfair to test any animal in the unnatural setting
of a laboratory cage. And there are higher animals,
such as chimpanzees and other primates, which certainly
have longer memories than the animals that Hunter tried.
"Yet
when all these provisos have been made (and met, by
more modern experiments), the facts are still startling
and characteristic. An animal cannot recall a signal
from the past for even a short fraction of the time
that a man can--for even a short fraction of the time
that a child can. Hunter made comparable tests with
six-year-old children, and found, of course, that they
were incomparably better than the best of his animals.
There is a striking and basic difference between a man's
ability to imagine something that he saw or experienced,
and an animal's failure."
From
"The Reach of Imagination" in A Sense of the
Future by Jacob Bronowski. Copyright (c) 1977 by MIT
Press. Reprinted with permission.