If you asked a random sampling of pet owners what an animal behaviorist studied, chances are the majority of them would give you a funny look. After all, what else would an animal behaviorist possibly study than animal behavior? But logical as that might sound, that’s not necessarily the case. And the fact that it isn’t has created a lot of confusion for people whose animals develop problem behaviors.
Let’s begin with a little history. The people who used to study animal behavior were often called “naturalists.” This definition embodied the fact that they studied animals in nature, i.e. in the animal’s natural habitat. As science became more sophisticated, animal behavior became part of the biological sciences. As the biological sciences became more diverse and sophisticated, how biochemical, developmental, social, neurological ecological, and evolutionary factors, among others, that affect how animals behave were added to the mix. It is from the realm of the biological sciences that interest in the role of cognition and emotion in animal behavior arose.
Simultaneously, those in the human behavioral sciences were approaching animal behavior from a completely different perspective. In the 1950s, a school of thought called behaviorism pretty much dominated psychology. The signature motto of this group was that behaviors that are rewarded will be repeated and those that are not rewarded or are punished would not. As soon as you think about it, that probably strikes you as a no-brainer. But what sets behaviorism apart is that this premise is based on what is called the mechanistic view. This maintains that organisms respond to a few basic stimuli—such as pain, hunger, sex—so predictably, so mechanically, so unthinkingly it’s possible to predict their responses using mathematics. Once the belief was in place, laboratory experiments were conducted to prove its validity.
From this we can see that the phrase “animal behavior” has two quite different meanings, depending on whether one ascribes in the biological or human behavioral school of thought. This difference would be little more than a source of frustration and confusion for the poor student simultaneously taking courses in these two disciplines except for one fact: Even though the average person attributes the more expansive range of behaviors and abilities to their animals described by the biological sciences, the bulk of training arises from behaviorism.
As you might imagine, the result of this is a hodge-podge that is conceivably at least as difficult for our animals to understand as for that poor college student simultaneously taking “animal behavior” courses in the biological and human behavioral sciences. Academics addressed this confusion by referring to the biological study of animal behavior as ethology and behaviorism as comparative psychology. However, there are still those in both groups who speak of what they do as studying “animal behavior.” I sometimes do this myself because it’s easier than explaining what a vet ethologist is, and because I know that there’s a high probability that those I’m talking to will take a biological view of animal behavior.
But still, that’s taking the easy way out, plus it’s misleading. To say that I’m a behaviorist implies that I support training methods based on the mechanistic animal-teaching models that came out of behaviorism. I don’t. I support the animal learning methods that are based on ethological studies of how animals naturally learn and teach each other.
The reason I’m writing about this subject is because my experience has been that most people assume that those who are actively engaged in training and most certainly in the treatment of problem animal behaviors, to say nothing of veterinary medicine, possess solid knowledge of how animals behave in their natural environments, be that environment a three-bedroom ranch, a 23rd story apartment, or a pasture. That those experts might very well not have this knowledge never crosses these animal owners’ minds. Worse, those working their way up through the ranks in the training field who have heard the phrase “animal behavior” applied to countless, sometimes highly sophisticated applications of mechanistic techniques could logically believe that they will know a lot about animal behavior once they master those techniques, too. Put another way, relative to the way animals actually behave, they won’t even know that they don’t know.
Meanwhile those who do know how animals behave in their natural environments function in ethological obscurity.
In my dream world everyone who works with animals and all those who own them would have to take a course in ethology. In my ultimate dream world, those courses would be given in elementary school, then repeated in middle and high school. This knowledge would then create the lens through which all of our interactions with animals, including the methods we use to teach them, would be evaluated.
But for now, when it comes to who has knowledge of true down and dirty in the back yard animal behavior, let the pet-owner beware.
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.
If you asked a random sampling of pet owners what an animal behaviorist studied, chances are the majority of them would give you a funny look. After all, what else would an animal behaviorist possibly study than animal behavior? But logical as that might sound, that’s not necessarily the case. And the fact that it isn’t has created a lot of confusion for people whose animals develop problem behaviors.
Let’s begin with a little history. The people who used to study animal behavior were often called “naturalists.” This definition embodied the fact that they studied animals in nature, i.e. in the animal’s natural habitat. As science became more sophisticated, animal behavior became part of the biological sciences. As the biological sciences became more diverse and sophisticated, how biochemical, developmental, social, neurological ecological, and evolutionary factors, among others, that affect how animals behave were added to the mix. It is from the realm of the biological sciences that interest in the role of cognition and emotion in animal behavior arose.
Simultaneously, those in the human behavioral sciences were approaching animal behavior from a completely different perspective. In the 1950s, a school of thought called behaviorism pretty much dominated psychology. The signature motto of this group was that behaviors that are rewarded will be repeated and those that are not rewarded or are punished would not. As soon as you think about it, that probably strikes you as a no-brainer. But what sets behaviorism apart is that this premise is based on what is called the mechanistic view. This maintains that organisms respond to a few basic stimuli—such as pain, hunger, sex—so predictably, so mechanically, so unthinkingly it’s possible to predict their responses using mathematics. Once the belief was in place, laboratory experiments were conducted to prove its validity.
From this we can see that the phrase “animal behavior” has two quite different meanings, depending on whether one ascribes in the biological or human behavioral school of thought. This difference would be little more than a source of frustration and confusion for the poor student simultaneously taking courses in these two disciplines except for one fact: Even though the average person attributes the more expansive range of behaviors and abilities to their animals described by the biological sciences, the bulk of training arises from behaviorism.
As you might imagine, the result of this is a hodge-podge that is conceivably at least as difficult for our animals to understand as for that poor college student simultaneously taking “animal behavior” courses in the biological and human behavioral sciences. Academics addressed this confusion by referring to the biological study of animal behavior as ethology and behaviorism as comparative psychology. However, there are still those in both groups who speak of what they do as studying “animal behavior.” I sometimes do this myself because it’s easier than explaining what a vet ethologist is, and because I know that there’s a high probability that those I’m talking to will take a biological view of animal behavior.
But still, that’s taking the easy way out, plus it’s misleading. To say that I’m a behaviorist implies that I support training methods based on the mechanistic animal-teaching models that came out of behaviorism. I don’t. I support the animal learning methods that are based on ethological studies of how animals naturally learn and teach each other.
The reason I’m writing about this subject is because my experience has been that most people assume that those who are actively engaged in training and most certainly in the treatment of problem animal behaviors, to say nothing of veterinary medicine, possess solid knowledge of how animals behave in their natural environments, be that environment a three-bedroom ranch, a 23rd story apartment, or a pasture. That those experts might very well not have this knowledge never crosses these animal owners’ minds. Worse, those working their way up through the ranks in the training field who have heard the phrase “animal behavior” applied to countless, sometimes highly sophisticated applications of mechanistic techniques could logically believe that they will know a lot about animal behavior once they master those techniques, too. Put another way, relative to the way animals actually behave, they won’t even know that they don’t know.
Meanwhile those who do know how animals behave in their natural environments function in ethological obscurity.
In my dream world everyone who works with animals and all those who own them would have to take a course in ethology. In my ultimate dream world, those courses would be given in elementary school, then repeated in middle and high school. This knowledge would then create the lens through which all of our interactions with animals, including the methods we use to teach them, would be evaluated.
But for now, when it comes to who has knowledge of true down and dirty in the back yard animal behavior, let the pet-owner beware.
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.