Over the past few months I’ve read several books that have referred to the Theory of Mind. Never heard of it? Well, I’ll give you a hint about its content: If you were a researcher with a strong human bias who believed in this theory, the title of this commentary would be an oxymoron. And the reason for this would be because the Theory of Mind is often used to define what these folks consider the mental qualities that make humans superior to animals.
You might think that the Theory of Mind is some really complex concept, but it’s not. In fact, its definition is quite simple. Directly quoting Encarta here, the Theory of Mind describes “concepts of mental activity: the way somebody conceives of mental activity in others, including how children conceptualize mental activity in others and how they attribute intention to and predict the behavior of others.”
That seems like a pretty direct and reasonable definition, doesn’t it? I think so and would have no problem with it whatsoever…if the ability to do this wasn’t limited strictly to humans. In the two books where I came across this concept and in other material I’ve since read, the stated proof of the Theory of Mind is that, unlike humans, animals are incapable of deception.
Animals are incapable of deception. I pause here to keep a rant from firing out of my fingertips and onto the keyboard and take a few deep breaths. Instead, I’ll politely note that there are numerous studies of nonhuman species using deceptive behaviors to fool predators and competitors as well as in play, to say nothing of the piles of anecdotal evidence about such displays in companion animals that support the same. I may be completely wrong about this, but it wouldn’t surprise me that how animals use deception parallels its use in humans. And given the survival advantage this behavior confers in animals, it also would not surprise me if we gained the mental potential for it from our nonhuman ancestors, making deception a distinctly animal rather than human behavior.
What bothers me about these and other dubious references to animals and their behavior isn’t so much that they occur. We all make mistakes. What bothers me is that, when it comes to making statements about animals and their behavior, there seem to be a fair number of people who apparently believe that there is no need to check their facts. For me this raises the obvious question: Why do they believe that?
When I thought about this, I came up with two answers. The first is that these people are so convinced that animals are incapable of thought and emotion—i.e. they so buy into the old mechanistic view of animals—that the idea that this isn’t true never crosses their minds. If they work in one of the academic disciplines where the mechanistic view reigns, this belief will be supported and rewarded by their colleagues, professional culture and literature. Although newcomers from other areas initially might question this view, they quickly learn to accept it if they want to succeed in that discipline. The more immersed in their work they become, the more they accept the belief as true, not only for them, but for everyone. Because of this, there would be no reason to check to see if what they were saying about animal behavior really is true. That would be like checking a statement that referred to the earth revolving around the sun.
The second group who wouldn’t bother to check their facts would be those who view animals and their behaviors as fair game, if you’ll pardon the pun. These folks take an Alice in Wonderland approach, only instead of believing that words mean what they want them to mean, they believe that animal behaviors mean what they want them to mean.
In some ways those in this group are much more interesting because they come at their orientation from two quite opposite points. At one end are those who often define themselves as avid animal-lovers, but who really are in love with their own definition of what behaviors mean, which they then project on the animals. Whether this makes sense in animal behavioral terms or not is immaterial.
These projectors’ emotion- rather than knowledge-based view of animal behavior is very similar to the mechanistic one in that those in neither group grant animals the ability to think for themselves. Ironically but as commonly happens when others’ beliefs are closer to ours than we want to accept, those in these two groups consider the other’s orientation as quite different from their own. Researchers who take a mechanistic view dismiss the projectors as unrealistic and anthropomorphic; the projectors accuse those who maintain a mechanistic view of being inhumanely cold and cruel. In reality, those in both groups view animals symbolically rather than as living beings with their own needs.
At the opposite end from those who view animals as symbols, we find those for whom animals are so inconsequential they feel they can attribute any behaviors and meaning to them that suits their purposes. Their “knowledge” of animals commonly consists of clichés, often culled from sources that share the same view. A good example of this is the way “alpha male” is often (mis)used in the media. I assume writers and others who take such a cavalier approach to animal-related material do so because, unlike humans, the probability of animals suing them for misrepresentation is extremely low. As long as it sounds clever and catchy, who cares?
As I’ve come to view this human phenomenon more objectively, I’ve decided that it deserves its own name. It also seemed like calling it The Theory of Animal Mind would possess a bit of pizzazz as well as embody a certain poetic justice. In keeping with the original, I propose the following definition for The Theory of Animal Mind:
Concepts of mental activity regarding animals: the way some people lack the ability to conceive of mental activity in animals, including the animal’s ability to conceptualize mental activity and attribute intention to and predict the behavior of others.
Granted, having such a name doesn’t do anything to address the damage caused when animal-behavior-related misinformation gets into the media. However, what an awareness of the Theory of Animal Mind will enable me to do—and feel free to borrow it if you want—is to recognize the mental limitations of those who perceive animals in this light. In such a way, I can avoid the irritation I previously experienced when I come across such references, and instead either calmly dismiss them and anything the author or speaker relates to them, or approach what they say with skepticism.
Don’t I risk dismissing what might be some valid information? After all, there are some people with very heady credentials who accept this view. That’s a possibility of which I’m fully aware.
But on the other hand, if a writer or speaker develops a theme and draws conclusions based on beliefs about animals that are at least debatable and possibly even flat out proven wrong, those conclusions rest on a pretty shaky foundation. In that case, even if the conclusions are true, there’s little of consequence to support them.
But I’m not the kind of person whose thoughts are strait-jacketed by scientific rigor. If something makes sense to me, no matter how iffy what precedes and follows it is, I’ll give it thoughtful consideration. For me, the primary value of the Theory of Animal Mind is that it provides me with a way to define these people’s thinking that frees me from taking their remarks personally. Now I can say, “Oh, that person thinks in accord with the Theory of Animal Mind” and move on.
And sometimes, that really is the best thing to do.
If you have any comments regarding subject matter, favorite links, or anything you’d like to see discussed on or added to this site, please let me know at mm@mmilani.com.
Over the past few months I’ve read several books that have referred to the Theory of Mind. Never heard of it? Well, I’ll give you a hint about its content: If you were a researcher with a strong human bias who believed in this theory, the title of this commentary would be an oxymoron. And the reason for this would be because the Theory of Mind is often used to define what these folks consider the mental qualities that make humans superior to animals.
You might think that the Theory of Mind is some really complex concept, but it’s not. In fact, its definition is quite simple. Directly quoting Encarta here, the Theory of Mind describes “concepts of mental activity: the way somebody conceives of mental activity in others, including how children conceptualize mental activity in others and how they attribute intention to and predict the behavior of others.”
That seems like a pretty direct and reasonable definition, doesn’t it? I think so and would have no problem with it whatsoever…if the ability to do this wasn’t limited strictly to humans. In the two books where I came across this concept and in other material I’ve since read, the stated proof of the Theory of Mind is that, unlike humans, animals are incapable of deception.
Animals are incapable of deception. I pause here to keep a rant from firing out of my fingertips and onto the keyboard and take a few deep breaths. Instead, I’ll politely note that there are numerous studies of nonhuman species using deceptive behaviors to fool predators and competitors as well as in play, to say nothing of the piles of anecdotal evidence about such displays in companion animals that support the same. I may be completely wrong about this, but it wouldn’t surprise me that how animals use deception parallels its use in humans. And given the survival advantage this behavior confers in animals, it also would not surprise me if we gained the mental potential for it from our nonhuman ancestors, making deception a distinctly animal rather than human behavior.
What bothers me about these and other dubious references to animals and their behavior isn’t so much that they occur. We all make mistakes. What bothers me is that, when it comes to making statements about animals and their behavior, there seem to be a fair number of people who apparently believe that there is no need to check their facts. For me this raises the obvious question: Why do they believe that?
When I thought about this, I came up with two answers. The first is that these people are so convinced that animals are incapable of thought and emotion—i.e. they so buy into the old mechanistic view of animals—that the idea that this isn’t true never crosses their minds. If they work in one of the academic disciplines where the mechanistic view reigns, this belief will be supported and rewarded by their colleagues, professional culture and literature. Although newcomers from other areas initially might question this view, they quickly learn to accept it if they want to succeed in that discipline. The more immersed in their work they become, the more they accept the belief as true, not only for them, but for everyone. Because of this, there would be no reason to check to see if what they were saying about animal behavior really is true. That would be like checking a statement that referred to the earth revolving around the sun.
The second group who wouldn’t bother to check their facts would be those who view animals and their behaviors as fair game, if you’ll pardon the pun. These folks take an Alice in Wonderland approach, only instead of believing that words mean what they want them to mean, they believe that animal behaviors mean what they want them to mean.
In some ways those in this group are much more interesting because they come at their orientation from two quite opposite points. At one end are those who often define themselves as avid animal-lovers, but who really are in love with their own definition of what behaviors mean, which they then project on the animals. Whether this makes sense in animal behavioral terms or not is immaterial.
These projectors’ emotion- rather than knowledge-based view of animal behavior is very similar to the mechanistic one in that those in neither group grant animals the ability to think for themselves. Ironically but as commonly happens when others’ beliefs are closer to ours than we want to accept, those in these two groups consider the other’s orientation as quite different from their own. Researchers who take a mechanistic view dismiss the projectors as unrealistic and anthropomorphic; the projectors accuse those who maintain a mechanistic view of being inhumanely cold and cruel. In reality, those in both groups view animals symbolically rather than as living beings with their own needs.
At the opposite end from those who view animals as symbols, we find those for whom animals are so inconsequential they feel they can attribute any behaviors and meaning to them that suits their purposes. Their “knowledge” of animals commonly consists of clichés, often culled from sources that share the same view. A good example of this is the way “alpha male” is often (mis)used in the media. I assume writers and others who take such a cavalier approach to animal-related material do so because, unlike humans, the probability of animals suing them for misrepresentation is extremely low. As long as it sounds clever and catchy, who cares?
As I’ve come to view this human phenomenon more objectively, I’ve decided that it deserves its own name. It also seemed like calling it The Theory of Animal Mind would possess a bit of pizzazz as well as embody a certain poetic justice. In keeping with the original, I propose the following definition for The Theory of Animal Mind:
Granted, having such a name doesn’t do anything to address the damage caused when animal-behavior-related misinformation gets into the media. However, what an awareness of the Theory of Animal Mind will enable me to do—and feel free to borrow it if you want—is to recognize the mental limitations of those who perceive animals in this light. In such a way, I can avoid the irritation I previously experienced when I come across such references, and instead either calmly dismiss them and anything the author or speaker relates to them, or approach what they say with skepticism.
Don’t I risk dismissing what might be some valid information? After all, there are some people with very heady credentials who accept this view. That’s a possibility of which I’m fully aware.
But on the other hand, if a writer or speaker develops a theme and draws conclusions based on beliefs about animals that are at least debatable and possibly even flat out proven wrong, those conclusions rest on a pretty shaky foundation. In that case, even if the conclusions are true, there’s little of consequence to support them.
But I’m not the kind of person whose thoughts are strait-jacketed by scientific rigor. If something makes sense to me, no matter how iffy what precedes and follows it is, I’ll give it thoughtful consideration. For me, the primary value of the Theory of Animal Mind is that it provides me with a way to define these people’s thinking that frees me from taking their remarks personally. Now I can say, “Oh, that person thinks in accord with the Theory of Animal Mind” and move on.
And sometimes, that really is the best thing to do.
If you have any comments regarding subject matter, favorite links, or anything you’d like to see discussed on or added to this site, please let me know at mm@mmilani.com.