I used to think that humans were not animals. Clearly, I thought, we are set apart by the ability to wield language, develop technology, realize the self and contemplate our imminent death. In addition, I believed that humans were superior to animals because of the ability to have compassion and make moral decisions whereas "animals" were essentially mindless, inferior, incapable of emotions like love or envy and unable to communicate complex ideas or feel pain in the same way that a human does.
And yet, the similarities are striking. Both humans and animals have bodies, need to eat, fit into the food chain, depend on the sun and plants to live, relate to or compete with other animals... if humans are not animals then what are they? Unless one suggests the supernatural to be involved, it stands to reason that we are not part of some kind of "other" category. We too are animals and therefore share characteristics with them, and they with us. It is true that humans use language unlike any other creature. Other animals may learn what human words mean or use their own "words," distinct bits of sound, to convey meaning. However, no animal that we know of continuously reassembles words in new and unique ways as we do by employing grammar.
Most of the other characteristics I listed above, I later discovered, are probably shared with at least some other animals. Knowledge of death may be the exception, although some self-aware animals could perhaps understand this on some level.
Certainly technology and realization of the self are shared characteristics. Otters use stones to break open crustaceans. Asian elephants swat away flies by flicking branches with their trunks. Dolphins, chimpanzees, magpies and killer whales have all passed the mirror test, showing they recognized themselves as separate and individual. And recently I have discovered that animals have moral codes just like we do. Especially social animals.
In a Ted Talk I watched last summer, Frans de Waal of Emory University explains two pillars of morality, upon which moral systems are generally based: reciprocity/fairness is one and empathy/compassion is the other. He provides several examples of how morality works in the (other than human) animal world. De Waal is a primatologist, ethologist, professor and author.
Reciprocity has been studied in several animals. Chimps have been observed working together to retrieve a reward by moving a box too heavy for one chimp alone. In addition, when one chimp has been fed and the other is hungry, the hungry chimp offers encouragement and asks for help. The chimp that has already been fed is willing to help even though he isn't hungry because he knows he gets a return favor when he is hungry and the other fed. This is a basic example of reciprocity.
Cooperation of this sort is also observed in elephants. Often called the most empathetic of animals, elephants also seem to have the ability to understand and share the feelings of other members of their herd, suggesting presence of the other pillar of morality: empathy/compassion. They grieve at the sites of a loved one's death, coming back year after year to pay their respects.
Have you ever wondered why yawning is contagious? Not to be confused with the "mirror test" mentioned above, mirror neurons, or brain cells which react both when doing an action and observing one, may explain this phenomenon. It may in fact show that by seeing someone in distress or discomfort, our empathy kicks in and we feel what that person is feeling.
Consolation has been observed in male chimps when they put their arms around another in distress. Reconciliation
behavior after a fight has also been observed among chimps. Why do this? Is
it too outlandish to suggest they value inter-chimp relationships? That
like us, it is important for them to make up after a fight in order to
preserve the relationship? This makes sense from an evolutionary perspective. Socially evolved animals have vested interest in protecting others in their group in order to increase the likelihood of reproducing new members. This is especially true in families, where kinship suggests passing on of genes that are even more like one's own. Any of this sounding familiar? In my opinion, this understanding of morality provides not only an explanation for it, but also gives meaning to the human condition, bringing us closer to our "relatives" (all that lives).
It also demands a wholesome and gentle approach to animal interaction, rather than domination, control and abuse on the presumption that they can not suffer as we do. There are lots of moral questions of course. What is moral on a social scale? On an individual scale? In individual circumstances? Is there a "universal" morality? One thing is almost certainly true: morality cannot be contained. It is uncertain and relative according to the person and situation. But is it unique to humans? Scientists have discovered that the answer to that question is NO.
Happy Earth Day to all! What an awesome planet we live on, and what incredible lifeforms surround us every day!
I was hitchhiking in New Zealand a couple of years ago when I got into a conversation about evolution with my driver. I don’t remember the details of what was said, except that she told me, “I didn’t give birth to a baby monkey. I didn’t grow a monkey inside of me.” Misconceptions about evolution are common. For me, many of them dissipated when I learned the definition of a scientific theory and why evolution is the cornerstone of modern biology. What an enormous and fascinating topic! I will go over only a few misconceptions (to avoid writing a novel) and briefly describe common descent, why evolution is not “just” a theory, how it exemplifies the very opposite of randomness in light of natural selection and that it is a simple yet elegant explanation for how organisms are affected by and interact with the natural world. “My grandpa wasn’t a monkey!” First let’s tackle the monkey misconception. We didn’t evolve from monkeys. Evidence shows that humans share a common ancestor with apes, namely gorillas and chimpanzees, but we didn’t evolve from them either. Common descent describes the relationship between us and our predecessors when a new species arises from an ancestral population.
You may remember that apes are most distinguishable by their lack of a tail. Lesser apes include gibbons and resemble monkeys more than great apes. Great apes are a family called Hominidae including chimps, orangoutangs, gorillas and humans, all of which are different species. Evidence also shows that all the observable life on earth, from worms to whales to viruses, arose from a common ancestral organism. “Evolution is ‘just’ a theory.” “Theory,” by the everyday definition, implies a speculation or a guess. However, it is VERY IMPORTANT to understand that in science, a “theory” means much, much more than a hunch. An educated guess perhaps? No. A hypothesis could be an educated guess, but a hypothesis is not the same as a theory. A theory is a confirmed hypothesis that is backed by evidence. A proven theory is a fact. “Evolution is not a fact.” The theory of evolution is a fact (a true statement about the world) in the same way that the theory of gravity (the relationship of force between bodies of mass) is a fact and germ theory (the attribution of infectious disease to microorganisms) is a fact. Most who deny evolution would not deny gravity or germs, but these explanations have been developed by the same methods as the theory of evolution. Calling it a theory is the highest possible achievement of science. A law in science is not “higher” than a theory and neither is a fact. Evolution is the basis of modern biology and the best explanation we currently have for the staggering variety of life we see today and find evidence for in the fossil record. It is not a conspiracy cooked up by evil biologists for some malicious purpose. “So you are saying the diversity of life happened by chance?” EVOLUTION BY NATURAL SELECTION SUGGESTS THE OPPOSITE OF CHANCE. While mutations in DNA occur at random throughout the reproduction process, natural selection is the process that pinpoints and propagates mutated traits that end up being useful for survival. It’s simple: because the likelihood of the organism possessing advantageous traits to reproduce is greater, there is a greater chance of those traits being inherited by offspring. Evolution by natural selection results in organisms “sculpted” by natural selection to survive within their unique environments and in relationship to other organisms in the food chain. Charles Darwin (1809-1882) and Alfred Russell Wallace (1823-1913) developed the idea of natural selection making the theory of evolution, which dates back to the Greeks, more viable and understandable. Again, natural selection is the idea that connects the complexity of life on earth with random mutations that occur during DNA replication. It is the driving force behind evolution that makes it the very OPPOSITE OF RANDOM, resulting in specific traits surviving over others and the ability for life to exist in an enormous range of locations, including thermal vents under the ocean, African savannas, isolated islands and rain forests. “Irreducible complexity shows that evolution is impossible.” The argument that some aspects of life, like the human eye, are “irreducibly complex” is outdated and long-refuted. Using the example of the eye, the argument goes that every part of the eye as a whole has to be present at once in order to function, so how could it have evolved? After all, there is no such thing as “half an eye.”
First of all, there is no one version of the eye, even among humans. There is variation; some are far-sighted, some are near-sighted, and some are blind. No eye is “perfect,” whatever that means. This suggests a process behind the eye’s development and scientists have found several primitive examples.
Some animals have, or had, only light sensors for “eyes.” Some fish have no eyes at all because their environment is total darkness. Some eyes are better at heat detection than light detection. Birds vision is much sharper than humans. Cats see at night as well as we do during the day because of a reflective sheen over their eyes (which is why they seem to glow). This variation shows that eyes come in many shapes and sizes, exist in “parts,” and have varying functions. Even a primitive eye would, according to natural selection, help an organism survive longer than it’s counterparts, giving it a reproductive advantage. We have this idea of successive species becoming “better.” In evolution, this means “fitness to environment” and is based on frequency of reproduction of particular traits. It makes no sense to use good or bad in this case. It is logical that with time, human eyes can become better suited to the environment than they are now, which would mean it can become more complex than it is now. To close, the theory of evolution is simple and elegant. This means that the mechanism is simple (mutations in DNA that are advantageous become more frequent in a population) and the result is elegant (complex, beautiful organisms of staggering variation). Am I saying that in this case simplicity gives rise to complexity? YES. I am aware that the Second Law of Thermodynamics states that in a closed system this should not occur. Guess what? Life in earth’s terrarium is not a closed system: we have the sun upon which most life depends. For an example of how simplicity gives rise to complexity, check out the Mandelbrot Set. In fractals, a simple mathematical formula gives rise to a strikingly complex image. How cool is that?!
Also, you may want to do some reading:
Charles Darwin: The Origin of Species Jerry Coyne: Why Evolution is True Neil Shubin: Your Inner Fish: A Journey into the 3.5-Billion-Year History of the Human Body Richard Dawkins: The God Delusion
My first biology professor was called “The Birdman.” He was a sort of tall, mad ornithologist who, besides resembling a vulture with a tuft of white hair protruding from his head, frequently used the curse word “communist!” As was procedure for a 101 course, he covered the basic tenants of the scientific process, and introduced a term I was unfamiliar with: falsifiability. In order for a hypothesis to be viable, he told me (with wild eyes), you must be able to prove it false! Huh? This confused me. I thought the goal of science was to determine whether a hypothesis was true. Later on, I understood that falsifiability, or testability, is one of the rules of the game of critical thinking that helps determine the viability of a claim. In other words, if you can’t determine whether a claim is false, you also can’t determine whether it is true.
For example: if I claim that there is an invisible pink unicorn that roams the cosmos rearing it’s majestic sparkly head, there is no way of demonstrating that such is NOT the case (the unicorn being invisible and untestable). While this is obviously unbelievable, people do have the audacity to make claims just like this about the supernatural... and expect to be believed. Have you ever heard someone pose the argument, “You can’t prove it’s false, therefore it’s true?” Sorry, but in the game of critical thinking, this is a losing argument. Contrary to intuition, lack of testability makes a claim weaker, not stronger. Lack of proof to the contrary is not proof itself. And just because a claim hasn’t been conclusively proven doesn’t mean that it’s false either. At university, I took a basic critical thinking class with an assigned textbook called “How to Think About Weird Things.” I found it so enlightening and helpful that I still use it today. Although I had ceased attending church at the time of the class, I didn’t have any guidelines to help me decide what to believe. I was agnostic when it came to most problems because I figured that every explanation was equally plausible and therefore subject to my personal opinion.
One of the most life-changing lessons I took away from the class was that some explanations are better than others... and there are ways of discovering this information beyond a reasonable doubt. The class outlined the importance of evidence, double-blind studies, control groups, predictions, peer-reviewing, replication and consideration of alternative explanations. I finally felt I had solid ground to stand on when it came to making decisions that impact my life and the lives of others. Critical thinking is a methodology I can get behind because it is a reflexive process emphasizing how to think not what to think. It is methodical and includes rules, challenges, interactions with others and goals. The “winners” of this game are those with common sense and honest reasoning skills. It enables me to be a conscious player in my life, rendering me more capable of making informed decisions that are in alignment with my values. Most of us think critically everyday, perhaps without even realizing it. And most fields of study are based upon it, namely science... and for good reason.
I also like to imagine life as a game. Rather than positing “winners” and “losers” in general terms, I imagine that within the closed system of my subjective experience, I win or lose at my own life-game, which exists within the larger sphere of objective reality, the realm of science, logic and reason. One of my personal rules is to not confuse subjectivity with objectivity but rather synthesize the two according to my reason, introspection, perception and memory. The game model helps me to focus on my values and reflect on my own thinking so that my time on earth is more likely to be spent efficiently, positively and joyfully. And it reminds me that my personal conviction alone does not have an impact on reality, even if based on a powerful experience, intuition or emotion.
Welcome to Life in a Terrarium! My name is Haley. I grew up in Wyoming and now live in southern Oregon where I practice massage therapy and study English at Southern Oregon University. As an introduction, I will share part of my story of how I came to love science.
Life in a Terrarium explores various aspects of science as I discover them and includes how they add to my understanding of life within the boundary of Earth’s atmosphere. The "terrarium" also refers to the horizon of humankind's knowledge of our place in the universe, which is constantly shifting due to scientific advances. I’m not a biologist, physician, geologist, or politician and do not claim authority on any subject besides my personal experience. This blog is an experiment of thought, writing, and reception. I hope it is both thought-provoking and relatable.
Having been indoctrinated in religion from birth, I am predisposed to supernatural thinking. To this day I am drawn to the esoteric, the unknown, the mysterious, the secrets of the universe.
My personality also lends itself to obsessive-compulsive behaviors and neuroticism, well-met growing up in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, or Mormonism. I ritualized my faith: pray, fast, read scriptures, repeat. Daily life was intense; symbols offered communication between the Divine and me. I was superstitious about numbers (7, 27), colors (white, red, black) and Bible verses. Synchronicity represented my devotion and His revelation.
I knew that my Heavenly Father was watching me. I had a testimony of Jesus Christ. I resolved as a young girl to be sealed in the temple to my husband for time and all eternity. Because God had a secret plan for me, my receptivity to the “Spirit,” or influence of the Holy Ghost, was finely tuned.
I was always a bibliophile. The Bible, The Book of Mormon, The Doctrine and Covenants and The Pearl of Great Price, all parts of the Mormon scripture, spoke directly to me. Books were a gift from on high and my sacred duty was to mine the hidden meaning within them. I read about philosophy, numbers, fractals, quantum physics, politics, and world religions. Although books opened the floodgates of my curiosity, I reconfigured my discoveries in terms of what I already knew as Truth. Reading was a search for more intricate layers of the same Truth.
Further questions were addressed through prayer, scripture study and the words of the latter-day prophet(s). Other approaches to understanding were consistently downplayed. Scientific argument, for example, was used to support the Gospel when possible, otherwise it was criticized as a prideful attempt by man to displace God's eternal unknowability.
So I was intrigued by science, but it was not always useful. When one has mastered the art of self-delusion, many questions are eliminated. But as an inquisitive person who was also not willing to abandon faith, I accepted the challenge to fit “worldly” knowledge into my belief system.
I was an apologist acrobat extraordinaire, eagerly debating friends who clearly didn't know the Truth. I researched controversial Mormon principles, such as polygamy, in order to rationalize their validity. As I grew older, it became a performance to behold, twisting myself into a ridiculous pretzel. I needed the Church to get behind me.
Whenever I challenged the doctrine, I was quickly set straight by instructors before the subject was changed. I wondered why my questions were often discouraged or ignored. I was taught that man is given free will because genuine faith comes only through personal conviction rather than through the conviction of others. If the Church was true, was I not certain to arrive at this conclusion after a thorough investigation? Wouldn’t my faith only be strengthened by such a test?
Rationalization brought me far, until I realized my deep-set value of honesty in my searching. Bending over backwards to make the “logic” of religion work was not enough. Ultimately I had to come to terms with the facts that weren’t aligning with my faith. I was terrified of losing meaning, friends, family and security. But I was more terrified of living a lie.
If meaning is not simply learned, I now reason, I would expect more consensus on truth. I now see that whether an individual is Mormon or Muslim largely depends on time and birthplace. I was taught everything I knew about God, the planet He lives on, the human woman He impregnated, and how He communicates telepathically with man.
I no longer believe, but my conversations with God never ended. Now they are conversations with my unconscious, my ego, my dreaming mind.
Now I gather meaning through observation and reflection. While science does not attribute meaning to existence, it continually provides perspectives on what it probably doesn’t mean (eternal life, predestination, significance, salvation) in light of a lack of evidence to support such claims.
The “answer,” for me, is the fact that the universe is and I experience it. And all that is conceptualized, observed, explained or thought about has nothing to do with what may actually exist aside from my perception of it. In order to make progress in our condition of limited information, humanity observes consistencies and proceeds with what works, thus sending ourselves to our moon, eliminating devastating diseases, isolating the gene for breast cancer, and using wavelength technology to “see” how Earth’s weather systems operate.
My view is that there is no purpose, no intent, no positive or negative, no reason for anything aside from that which we create. Only indifference. This understanding opens a door to an incredible sense of wonder and inspiration because meaning is flexible as long as one recognizes the difference between reality and fiction. I hope throughout this blog I can explain why scientific understanding means everything to me.
