Preparation for a recently completed series of seminars and presentations that addressed the role human emotions play in animal relationships resulted in an affirmation of a long-held suspicion: the views and approaches that gain the most attention are far more likely to be those driven by emotion than solid knowledge. Granted, this isn’t something new. As the old saying reminds us, “Some people are like foghorns: the less they can see, the more noise they make.” Unfortunately, the louder the noise, the more media attention.
Further enhancing this trend, we live in a world in which the number of people in positions of power who also prefer to reduce complex issues to the most basic emotions gives such an approach a certain legitimacy it otherwise would not have. At the same time, this highly limited approach gives rise to two other phenomena many may find appealing.
The first is that being emotion-driven negates the effort necessary to gain any knowledge needed to analyze and respond to a situation in a meaningful way. All that matters is that it feels right. The second is that emotion-driven approaches inevitably give rise to gurus more than willing to tell others what, if anything, to think. Consequently, in accord with that most basic principle underlying the behavior of all living beings, it’s highly energy-efficient…
When it works. Unfortunately, blindly following a leader or guru who plays on our emotions and spares us from critical thinking doesn’t serve our animals any better than it serves us in the long run, and our pets may fare a lot worst. Luckily, those of us unfortunate enough to work under and/or be governed by such people can reasonably hope that they will eventually lose their power as a result of retirement, being fired or voted out of office, or death. However, many animals whose owners relate to them in an emotion-driven way may be doomed to endure the consequences of this human orientation for their entire lives.
One very common example of this is the human emotion- rather than knowledge-based belief regarding the startle response which is then imposed on the animal. Consider this relatively common situation: Jasmine, the new animal addition in owner Kim’s household, startles at a novel sound. This is a perfectly normal survival response that puts Jasmine on the alert, creating physiological changes that enable her to process the maximum amount of incoming data quickly to determine what the sound represents and respond accordingly.
The critical point to note here is that the startle response, in and of itself, does not equal a fearful one. It represents a state of heightened perceptual awareness. Any emotion attached to it comes later as the result of what the animal experiences as a result of those perceived stimuli.
So, for example, if a wild animal processes incoming sensory data and realizes it signals the arrival of a predator from whom the animal successfully escapes, then every aspect of this experience will become deeply entrenched in the animal’s memory. This, in turn, will enable the animal to make the correct response even faster in the future and perhaps even under worse conditions. On the other hand, if experience indicates that those particular stimuli represent a positive event—such as the presence of prey or a potential mate—this will cause the animal to move toward rather than away from that same stimuli when it occurs in the future. And, finally, if experience reveals that the noise represents nothing of consequence, the animal learns not to waste energy reacting to those stimuli.
Going back to Jasmine, because domestication primes her to take her cues from humans, she automatically looks to Kim for guidance when startled. If Kim calmly reassures her in a low, confident voice, “It’s cool. I’ve got it covered” or distracts Jasmine with a favorite game or toy, this greatly reduces the probability that Jasmine will associate those stimuli with danger.
On the other hand, suppose Kim associates Jasmine’s startle response with fear because she either thinks her pet looks scared or because she believes she would feel frightened under similar circumstances if she were an animal. In that case, every time Jasmine exhibits the startle response, Kim will respond as if her pet were frightened. Worse, if Kim opts for a higher pitched voice and experiences any of the physiological changes associated with stress (increased heart and pulse rates, elevated coritsol levels), she simultaneously also will communicate her own inability to cope with whatever the sound represents. In other words, her message to her pet is, “Not only do you have every reason to be afraid, you can’t count on me to protect you. In fact, I expect you to protect me.”
The net result is that the memory of all the incoming stimuli associated with everything that startles Jasmine to which Kim responds fearfully will be stored in Jasmine’s most primitive survival center, and any one of these is then capable of triggering the fear response when encountered later. In that regard, the effect on the animal is not unlike that of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome in humans. In the human condition, the tiniest stimuli associated with a traumatic event—such as war, rape, a horrible accident—may trigger a full-blown fear response in what others consider totally unrelated circumstances. What’s different about the response in pets is that it’s as apt to result from misguided human love or a projection of other human emotions as from any real threat to the animal.
When such human-animal responses are linked to something obvious like a loud noise, the relationship between the incoming stimulus and the animal’s fearful response is clear. That is, Kim hears a loud noise and perceives it as the cause of her pet’s fear, rather than the fearful emotional charge she or other humans imposed on the noise and thus on Jasmine during the animal’s first encounters with the sound. In other situations, though, and thanks to the animal’s greater perceptual ability, the stimulus that triggers the animal’s response may be beyond human comprehension. When Jasmine reacts fearfully to a scent beyond Kim’s perception that simultaneously occurred with that loud noise to which Kim inadvertently assigned and reinforced a fear response, Kim takes her pet to a specialist complaining, “This animal is frightened of nothing and I just can’t deal with that any more.”
No one would deny the role love and other emotions plays in the formation of a quality relationship with an animal. However, when we perceive those emotions as a substitute for knowledge, the result can be as devastating to the animal’s well-being as a relationship driven solely by knowledge in which no love or other emotions exist. The key is maintaining a proper balance of the two. Now that’s a fundamental principle that has merit.
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.
Preparation for a recently completed series of seminars and presentations that addressed the role human emotions play in animal relationships resulted in an affirmation of a long-held suspicion: the views and approaches that gain the most attention are far more likely to be those driven by emotion than solid knowledge. Granted, this isn’t something new. As the old saying reminds us, “Some people are like foghorns: the less they can see, the more noise they make.” Unfortunately, the louder the noise, the more media attention.
Further enhancing this trend, we live in a world in which the number of people in positions of power who also prefer to reduce complex issues to the most basic emotions gives such an approach a certain legitimacy it otherwise would not have. At the same time, this highly limited approach gives rise to two other phenomena many may find appealing.
The first is that being emotion-driven negates the effort necessary to gain any knowledge needed to analyze and respond to a situation in a meaningful way. All that matters is that it feels right. The second is that emotion-driven approaches inevitably give rise to gurus more than willing to tell others what, if anything, to think. Consequently, in accord with that most basic principle underlying the behavior of all living beings, it’s highly energy-efficient…
When it works. Unfortunately, blindly following a leader or guru who plays on our emotions and spares us from critical thinking doesn’t serve our animals any better than it serves us in the long run, and our pets may fare a lot worst. Luckily, those of us unfortunate enough to work under and/or be governed by such people can reasonably hope that they will eventually lose their power as a result of retirement, being fired or voted out of office, or death. However, many animals whose owners relate to them in an emotion-driven way may be doomed to endure the consequences of this human orientation for their entire lives.
One very common example of this is the human emotion- rather than knowledge-based belief regarding the startle response which is then imposed on the animal. Consider this relatively common situation: Jasmine, the new animal addition in owner Kim’s household, startles at a novel sound. This is a perfectly normal survival response that puts Jasmine on the alert, creating physiological changes that enable her to process the maximum amount of incoming data quickly to determine what the sound represents and respond accordingly.
The critical point to note here is that the startle response, in and of itself, does not equal a fearful one. It represents a state of heightened perceptual awareness. Any emotion attached to it comes later as the result of what the animal experiences as a result of those perceived stimuli.
So, for example, if a wild animal processes incoming sensory data and realizes it signals the arrival of a predator from whom the animal successfully escapes, then every aspect of this experience will become deeply entrenched in the animal’s memory. This, in turn, will enable the animal to make the correct response even faster in the future and perhaps even under worse conditions. On the other hand, if experience indicates that those particular stimuli represent a positive event—such as the presence of prey or a potential mate—this will cause the animal to move toward rather than away from that same stimuli when it occurs in the future. And, finally, if experience reveals that the noise represents nothing of consequence, the animal learns not to waste energy reacting to those stimuli.
Going back to Jasmine, because domestication primes her to take her cues from humans, she automatically looks to Kim for guidance when startled. If Kim calmly reassures her in a low, confident voice, “It’s cool. I’ve got it covered” or distracts Jasmine with a favorite game or toy, this greatly reduces the probability that Jasmine will associate those stimuli with danger.
On the other hand, suppose Kim associates Jasmine’s startle response with fear because she either thinks her pet looks scared or because she believes she would feel frightened under similar circumstances if she were an animal. In that case, every time Jasmine exhibits the startle response, Kim will respond as if her pet were frightened. Worse, if Kim opts for a higher pitched voice and experiences any of the physiological changes associated with stress (increased heart and pulse rates, elevated coritsol levels), she simultaneously also will communicate her own inability to cope with whatever the sound represents. In other words, her message to her pet is, “Not only do you have every reason to be afraid, you can’t count on me to protect you. In fact, I expect you to protect me.”
The net result is that the memory of all the incoming stimuli associated with everything that startles Jasmine to which Kim responds fearfully will be stored in Jasmine’s most primitive survival center, and any one of these is then capable of triggering the fear response when encountered later. In that regard, the effect on the animal is not unlike that of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome in humans. In the human condition, the tiniest stimuli associated with a traumatic event—such as war, rape, a horrible accident—may trigger a full-blown fear response in what others consider totally unrelated circumstances. What’s different about the response in pets is that it’s as apt to result from misguided human love or a projection of other human emotions as from any real threat to the animal.
When such human-animal responses are linked to something obvious like a loud noise, the relationship between the incoming stimulus and the animal’s fearful response is clear. That is, Kim hears a loud noise and perceives it as the cause of her pet’s fear, rather than the fearful emotional charge she or other humans imposed on the noise and thus on Jasmine during the animal’s first encounters with the sound. In other situations, though, and thanks to the animal’s greater perceptual ability, the stimulus that triggers the animal’s response may be beyond human comprehension. When Jasmine reacts fearfully to a scent beyond Kim’s perception that simultaneously occurred with that loud noise to which Kim inadvertently assigned and reinforced a fear response, Kim takes her pet to a specialist complaining, “This animal is frightened of nothing and I just can’t deal with that any more.”
No one would deny the role love and other emotions plays in the formation of a quality relationship with an animal. However, when we perceive those emotions as a substitute for knowledge, the result can be as devastating to the animal’s well-being as a relationship driven solely by knowledge in which no love or other emotions exist. The key is maintaining a proper balance of the two. Now that’s a fundamental principle that has merit.
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.