I’ve been thinking about story-telling and relationships with particular animals. Consider the following two snippets:
Peter Singer doesn’t love animals
In the preface to the 1975 edition of Animal Liberation, Peter Singer shares a story about a time he was invited to tea. He’d begun working on Animal Liberation. Much to the surprise of his host, Singer admitted that he isn’t an animal lover (p. 9). Singer came to his theory of animal liberation through rational argument, not a relationship with a particular animal.
Sanctuaries and shelters may not be “high-impact”
Guided by the principles of effective altruism, Animal Charity Evaluators conduct research on what interventions and animal charities are high-impact. Sanctuaries and shelters are not a high priority for them, as sanctuaries and shelters focus on care not social change. Though Animal Charity Evaluators acknowledges the outreach potential of sanctuaries, as evaluators they focus attention on high impact forms of outreach.
Animal Liberation is one of the most influential texts for animal advocacy, and Animal Charity Evaluators do excellent work. Yet I am always struck by how the value of relationships with animals is minimized in each.
Arendt and story-telling
I’ve just finished reading Lisa Disch’s book Hannah Arendt and the Limits of Philosophy, which looks at Arendt’s theory and practice of storytelling as a philosophical method. Stories help us chart a new way forward when tradition and dominant norms fail us, as they failed Arendt in thinking through totalitarianism.
It makes sense to me why people turn to stories to help them think about animals. Animal liberation is still relatively new, and the tradition and dominant social norms have largely failed to illuminate injustices animals face.
Of course, having a close, meaningful relationship with an animal doesn’t mean you will advocate for animals. How many people eat animals who also have a close and meaningful relationship with their companion animals? Sometimes relationships are a turning point, other times they are not.
Here’s a good story: In her memoir Smitten by Giraffe, giraffe scientist and feminist activist Anne Dagg describes how her university experiences with rodents in labs turned her off of that branch of science. Dagg went on to publish critiques on the efficacy of animal research later in her career.
But how to understand the context of others? Arendt encourages us to think from plural perspectives. We don’t abstract from context, nor do we appropriate the experiences of others (e.g., through empathythrough empathy). Rather, we think as ourselves from their perspective. But again, how to do this?
Disch, as well as others, point out that that Arendt’s claim that stories can be a form of critical understanding should require us to know something about the situations of others before we try to think from their perspective. Given what we know about implicit biases, there seems to be a narrow line between appropriation, critical understanding, and missing the point entirely. With animals it’s even more challenging perhaps because we’re imagining across species boundaries.
More poets?
Arendt used the term ‘story’ to capture a wide range of ways in which we share narratives. But, she seem to think poetry and literature were special. Literature and poetry can be entry points into another’s perspective, both intellectually and in terms of their context. For this entry point to be accessible, it certainly requires some skill (epistemic? moral? literary?) on the part of the reader.
But I am also very hopeful about literature as a way to open us up to new perspectives. After listening to a recent interview with novelist Annie Proulx, I realized that I don’t have a poetic imagination. I love fiction, but I couldn’t write it well. I’m too judgmental. For example, my D&D characters always subtly choose the vegan option. I seem unable to let characters be in their own complexity.
The most recent episode of the Knowing Animals podcast featured an interview with Joshua Lobb on his new novel, “Flight with Birds.” Listening to that interview a few days after Proulx provoked my epiphany, I thought: Perhaps poets and novelists have a sensibility that helps those of us like expand our imaginations about the lives of others. Perhaps they make me more attended to my relationships with those others.
To state the obvious—
Good stories and good relationships help us lead the good life.
Credit
Feature photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash