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Darwinism,
Altruism and Painience
Dr.
Richard Ryder
July 1999
The whole issue of the moral status of animals lay dormant
between 1918 and the 1960s. Those of us who helped revive
the issue in the 1960s and 1970s started something which
has grown significantly over the years. Speaking personally,
one of the arguments I used right from the start was the
Darwinian one. Darwin had closed the conceptual gap between
humankind and the animals.
Why
had Darwinism upset Victorian Society so much? One reason,
surely, was because he had punctured human pride. Humans
— particularly stuffy and self-important Victorians — did
not like to think of themselves as dirty, violent and sexual
animals! This opposed the very essence of Victorian culture
which was self-discipline and the denial of animal impulses.
But
another reason why Darwinism upset the Victorians was because
of its only half-realised moral implication. The Victorians
were extremely moral people. They had a highly developed
sense of morality. Certainly they had begun to fit animals
into their moral scheme but only as very second class citizens
— or, more probably, as third or fourth or fifth class
citizens. There were the upper classes, the middle classes,
the working classes, foreigners, "natives" and,
then, perhaps animals. The Victorian empire builders and
their wives, however, were renowned for setting up caring
societies for animals in India, Africa and the Far East.
Yet the protection was inconsistent and patronising. Kindness
to animals was considered a mark of decency and civilisation.
But the implication that animals and humans could be morally on
a par was deeply shocking. Had not God made man below
the angels but above the animals, and in his own
image?
Darwin
himself wrote "Animals,
whom we have made our slaves, we do not like to consider
our equal." Yet
he said "The
love for all living creatures is the most noble attribute
of man." Most
significantly, he wrote "There
is no fundamental difference between man and the higher
mammals in their mental faculties... The difference in
mind between man and the higher animals, great as it is,
certainly is one of degree and not of kind."
Two
great moral implications can be drawn from Darwinism. The
first, wrongly drawn, is that as
the strongest survive then only the strongest should survive.
This dangerous doctrine is wrong on several counts. First,
it is wrong to argue ought from is — that
something is good because it is
natural — the so-called naturalistic fallacy. You could,
after all, argue that murder and rape are "natural",
but it does not follow that these actions are morally right.
Secondly, it is wrong because Darwinism says it is the fittest who
survive and not the strongest. Fittest might mean, depending
on circumstances, the most gentle and compassionate.
The other great moral implication of Darwinism is that if,
as Darwin asserts, there is no fundamental difference between
us and the other (higher) animals, then surely we should
all be in a similar moral category? If we are similar
psychologically and physically then why not morally? Presumably,
moral status depends upon psychological or physical qualities.
If we share these, to a degree, with other animals, then
the morality that flows from this will also be similar.
I
used this argument from 1970 onwards. My moral position,
which I now call PAINISM — because it emphasises
the individual's capacity for suffering pain or distress
— runs something like this:
Basically, I believe that it is wrong to cause suffering
to any individual regardless of their gender, race or species.
However, I accept that this can sometimes be justified by
benefits to another individual. But the aggregation of the
pains and benefits of many individuals I consider to be meaningless.
Pain, in its broadest sense is what matters morally; it underlies
all other moral criteria. Our prime concern should be for
the individual who suffers most.
Well,
first let us look at the ethics. Robert Garner — the political
scientist who has written brilliantly on the subject of
animal protection — once wrote that my ethical position
is a synthesis of the Utilitarian and Rights positions.
Furthermore, I have been paid the very considerable compliment
by the pro-hunting philosopher, Roger Scruton, of being
lumped in as the third man in a philosophical trio comprising
Tom Regan and Peter Singer. The literary figure, Michael
Sissons, has even described me as "the leading British animal
rights intellectual". However, I coined the term speciesism in
1970 partly to avoid having to use the word "rights"!
So where exactly do I stand? Am I a Rights Theorist
or a Utilitarian or something else? The strange thing is
this. My ethical position has not very much changed since
I first entered the fray on behalf of the animals in 1969.
In a letter to a national newspaper attacking animal experimentation
(one that, interestingly it would probably not publish today
- such has been the unfortunate backlash against "animal
rights" by some right wing factions) I then wrote:
It
is not often pointed out that, since Darwin, scientists
themselves cannot justify the torture of other species
any more than the deliberate mistreatment of human
beings, for they do not accept any essential difference
between man and beast. There is, indeed, no way of disproving
that an intelligent monkey has a greater potential for
terror, misery and boredom than, say, a mentally retarded
child. It is about time that civilisation's admirable
concern for human rights was logically extended to our
neighbouring species.
This
was published on 7 April 1969. On 3 May I published another Daily
Telegraph letter entitled The
Rights of Non Human Animals: "The
question of animal rights may be one in which this country
can lead the world so that in the future civilised men
will look back on our present iniquities with as much amazement
as we now look back on slavery, child labour and the other
great issues of nineteenth century reform."
I
ended by expressing the "hope that
one day the rights of non human animals will become a real
election issue."
In
1970 I produced a leaflet entitled Speciesism —
an idea that had come to me in the bath one day, and circulated
it in Oxford. It received no response at all. Undaunted,
I asked a friend, David Wood, to add his name to a second
(illustrated) version in order to give it a university address
and circulated this version in the Oxford colleges. Again,
no response! Still unabashed I went on to write three leaflets
(published by Clive Hollands) all with an ethical theme,
and all attacking speciesism. In all these I opposed the
infliction of suffering upon animals and drew attention to
the similarity between species. I referred to Darwin, identified
pain as the essential harm and rejected justifying the pain
of one in terms of the aggregated benefits to many. My chapter
in Animals Men and Morals, edited by Stanley and
Roslind Godlovitch and John Harris, and published in 1971,
contained the same ideas. When first I met Peter Singer,
in the same year, I believe, I remember discussing all this
with him on several occasions.
I
list all this to indicate that my ethical ideas have not
much changed since 1970. I have consistently believed that
suffering is the basic evil and that the individual — not
the species nor the aggregated experiences of the group,
are the focus of concern.
Why,
then, did I not simply use the term "rights"?
As you know, the concern for the individual is very much
part of Rights Theory. I think the answer is that the word "rights" had,
even in 1970, some strongly negative connotations in Britain. "Rights" was
associated with squatters and scroungers, with those who
demanded to be looked after by the state without making any
effort to fend for themselves. Also, I believe there are
historic reasons why the word is disliked in Britain: it
was a term used by Thomas Paine, by the dangerous French
guillotinists of the 1790s and, of course, by those damned
American rebels! That's why the British don't like the term
and these are some of the reasons why I turned to "speciesism".
But, on a more rational level, there were further reasons
why I did so. I believed, first, that people too often spoke
of "rights" as if they had some independent existence
— this seemed irrational to me. Secondly, I did not see
myself as a moral revolutionary, merely as wishing to extend conventional, Christian
based, ethics to include the other animals. (A formative
moment in my life was when, as a child, my mother said to
me, "humans are animals, too, you know.") By 1970
I felt a huge mistake was being made. Nonhumans were being
omitted from the moral community by some great oversight.
I still believe this. And it makes me angry! Finally, I was
part of that 1960s moral movement
which opposed injustice, sexual repression and inequality
in human society and was increasingly concerned with the
environment. After the attacks upon racism and sexism it
seemed only logical to attack speciesism.
Anyway,
the Oxford Group produced several books, leaflets, street
protests, radio and television broadcasts and was fortunate
enough to be taken seriously not only by the young Peter
Singer but
also by Tom Regan.
What
I was saying then and what I am saying now is that it is
prima facie wrong to cause any sort of suffering; without
consent, to any individual regardless of their sex, ethnicity,
species or,
indeed, configuration. By this last category I mean that
painient aliens from another planet or
painient machines, if ever these appear on the scene, should
be included within the moral community. They should be accorded
the right not to be caused suffering. The essential qualification
for rights is, therefore, painience - the capacity to suffer
pain or distress of any sort.
Painience
Perhaps
because I am a psychologist as well as an ethicist I have
thought long and hard about pain and distress. Not only
the whole Freudian tradition, with its emphasis on the
pleasure, but Behaviourism also, with its preoccupation
with reward and punishment, are based upon the experiences
of pain and pleasure. While recognising that there is a
wide range of pains, psychology, nevertheless, usually
treats them as strikingly similar in their effects upon
behaviour. This is why, when I talk of pain, I mean all
forms of suffering, not just so-called "physical" pain
but emotional, cognitive, aesthetic, and every other sort
of pain. Not only do all types of pain affect behaviour
as negative reinforces but we also experience a
similarity between them: we dislike them. So it makes sense
to me, as a psychologist, to describe all forms of suffering
as pain and this
is the word I use. Strangely, there are no single words in
English to denote "the capacity to experience pain or
other suffering" nor "being capable of experiencing
pain or other suffering" nor "one who is capable
of experiencing pain or other suffering". So, for this
reason I use, respectively, the words "painience" and "painient."
It is about time that we had sufficient words to describe
this most important area of our lives. I am convinced it
is central to ethics, too. This is where I definitely agree
with the Utilitarians: all bad things are painful and all
good things are the opposite. (I will mention pleasure and
happiness later.) It is sometimes depressing to hear so-called
moral argument still using criteria such as democracy, justice,
equality, peace or liberty as essential tests of what is
morally wrong and right. Surely, these are mere stepping
stones away from pain? The absence of democracy or justice,
or peace or liberty will usually cause pain (in my broad
sense of the word). That is why we regard their absence as
bad. They are only means to an end and the end is always
the same - the avoidance or reduction of pain. They are all
secondary to pain. Pain is the basic essence of evil.
As
a psychologist I have often probed people as to what it
is they are trying to avoid. When they replied "my
mother-in-law" or "too much pop music" or "injustice" or "mushy
peas" or "tyranny", I would then ask why do
you avoid them? And I would go on asking why, why, why. Always,
of course, we ended up with the same answer. These things
cause pain in the broad sense. Like all animals,
we are pleasure seekers and pain avoiders.
I
will now briefly consider two great ethical problems. I
will call them the Aggregation Problem and
the Trade-Off
Problem.
continued
on next page
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