Some and maybe a fair number of people believe that our ability to use language elevates us above all other members of the animal kingdom. But I’m not sure I agree with that. Sometimes I think we owe our language more to our inferior sensory perception, particularly our sense of smell. Because we miss so much of what’s going on around us compared to members of other species, we need language to fill in the missing information as best we can.
A case in point: Suppose an animal in a group of animals behaves in a way which, in that environment, causes 
others in the group to defer. If this deference occurs often enough and persists long enough, it also will change that individual’s physiology. In some species, it may change the animal’s pheromone chemistry and result in a different scent that others of the same species immediately will detect. That scent alone more often than not may cause them to defer to its source. Very neat and energy-efficient. Perhaps the most familiar analogy to this in human cultures are titles, medals, and charm or charisma that, comparatively speaking, may have a much weaker link to physiological and behavioral fitness.
What we’re talking about in the above example some also may refer to as dominance, a term that fails miserably when it comes to describing the amazing subtlety, relativity, and dynamic nature of such behavioral displays. Consequently we must consider each one of these qualities before we can apply such a label to a behavior, or the adjective “dominant” to the animal who displays it.
Subtlety
Evolution rewards those who get the job done using the least amount of energy. The less energy it takes an animal to establish and secure a territory and find food and water, the more energy available to devote to courting, mating, reproducing, and successfully raising offspring capable of doing the same. Perhaps because we live in a consumptive society that defines more as better, a fair number of folks erroneously believe that the more energy an animal puts into displays aimed at others, the more “dominant” that animal must be. But quite the contrary is true: the more dominant the animal in that particular physical and mental environment at that particular time, the less energy it will cost that animal to maintain that position.
Relativity
Did you notice how sneakily I inserted the qualifier in that particular physical and mental environment at that particular time in the previous sentence? Recognition of these factors is always a must before applying behavioral labels. Consider these two common statements:
- “He was the most dominant puppy in the litter.”
- “She always signals her dominance over other dogs.”
What does—or should—it mean when we say, read, or hear that a certain puppy was the most dominant puppy in his litter? Nothing. Not a doggone thing. Why? For starters, we know nothing about the rest of the litter. They could all be shy or ill. Unless we make the statement ourselves, chances are we also won’t know how the person who made it defines dominant. If we can’t or don’t want to ask the source for some reason, many of us will assume that person defines the word the same way we do. But given all the different definitions used by all the academic and nonacademic groups involved in companion animal behavior, the probability of this being true is low.
At this point some of you may be thinking, “If you’d test that puppy, this won’t be a problem.” Would that it were that simple! In reality the testing process is filled from start to finish with assumptions regarding, among other things, the definition of dominant. Unless specifically stated otherwise, we often assume that test developers, those who administer the tests, and all privy to the results agree on what makes a dominant puppy dominant. But sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t. Without nailing down those definitions, any results are meaningless.
Moving on to our second example of the dog who always signals her dominance: aside from words such as always or never making any behavior-related statement highly suspect, this statement also needs context to give it any meaning. We need to know things like what other dogs: all dogs encountered anytime anywhere, or just certain dogs? And how, exactly, is she signaling her dominance? If she’s mounting them, is it rank-communicating, stress-relieving, play-related, behavioral cluelessness, or actually a sexual display? It’s important to determine this because none of the preceding displays may warrant a response from a more physically and mentally fit animal. In that case, the mounted dog wouldn’t be accepting her higher rank but merely tolerating an inappropriate display because it’s not worth the energy to do otherwise.
Another example of the relative nature of dominance: Think about those qualities that would make an individual superior in one set of circumstances, but render that same individual vulnerable in another. For example, a large, aggressive street dog may gain rank in an environment in which those qualities enable that animal to secure the most resources, such as competing with other less physically fit street animals for a limited amount of garbage in a dump. But put that same dog in an environment in which it requires stealth to pilfer food from bigger humans, and suddenly his size and aggression become a liability. In that situation, the smaller more cautious dog becomes the one who will survive long enough to add his genes to the gene pool.
Dynamic
Like humans, animals change. And as they change so do their relationships with others. In social species, young animals mature and move into their prime while those in their prime move past it into middle age. Meanwhile those in middle age eventually become elderly and die. At each step in this progression, some individuals may succeed in raising their status at the expense of others who lose it. This is perfectly normal animal behavior. Consequently definitions that imply that labels such as dominant will last a lifetime should be viewed with suspicion, as should those recommendations to impose an artificial fixed social structure on groups of animals.
So…
From this it seems safe to say that, whereas the animal kingdom relies on a behavioral system that takes all variables into account when ensuring group stability, such flexibility may strike some of us as too messy or too out of control. When this occurs, the temptation to cram the meaning of these and other behavioral terms into neat little definitions that everyone uses and impose those definitions on animals may be difficult to resist.
But be that as it may, most of us have heard the story of the 3 blind men describing the whole elephant based on the information each gains from clinging to one particular part of the elephant’s anatomy. Multiply the elephant’s size and the blind population clinging to pachydermal body parts by at least a hundredfold and you get some idea of the confusion these attempts to define terms may create. When any differences in opinion trigger nasty terminology-wars and turf battles that swirl around whose animal behavioral terminology is “right”, those who only want to do their best may find themselves floundering.
But not to worry. From my perspective there are four sane approaches to this problem:
- If you’re one of those people who enjoy such squabbling, go for it. You’ll find no shortage of others who think their definitions are as right as yours.
- Another option, which I’ve been known to use myself, is to use alternate words such as “confident”, “successful”, “assertive”—any word but “dominant” in hopes of avoiding a confrontation with a squabbler. Sometimes this linguistic bait-and-switch works. Other times, it doesn’t.
- Those who use the third tactic limit their interactions and discussions with those whose academic or nonacademic orientation strongly appeals to them. This enables them to embrace the definitions of that group as the only right ones. Of the four options, this is the safest and most secure albeit to me the most limiting.
- Those taking the fourth approach glean knowledge from a wide range of academic and nonacademic sources while taking into account how each defines certain behavioral terms. If they can’t determine a word’s meaning based on the context in which others use the word, they ask for clarification.
If you’re an analogical thinker like I am, requesting an example of the behavior to which they apply the word in question may help more than a/their textbook definition which may include other terms about which disagreement may exist. Similarly, using examples in discussions with others will make it easier for them to determine how you’re defining certain terms too.
Granted none of these options is perfect. But barring that happy day when we can just sniff other folks and know how they define behavioral terms, we’ll have to depend on our bigger cerebral cortices to help us do the best we can.
Some and maybe a fair number of people believe that our ability to use language elevates us above all other members of the animal kingdom. But I’m not sure I agree with that. Sometimes I think we owe our language more to our inferior sensory perception, particularly our sense of smell. Because we miss so much of what’s going on around us compared to members of other species, we need language to fill in the missing information as best we can.
others in the group to defer. If this deference occurs often enough and persists long enough, it also will change that individual’s physiology. In some species, it may change the animal’s pheromone chemistry and result in a different scent that others of the same species immediately will detect. That scent alone more often than not may cause them to defer to its source. Very neat and energy-efficient. Perhaps the most familiar analogy to this in human cultures are titles, medals, and charm or charisma that, comparatively speaking, may have a much weaker link to physiological and behavioral fitness.
A case in point: Suppose an animal in a group of animals behaves in a way which, in that environment, causes
What we’re talking about in the above example some also may refer to as dominance, a term that fails miserably when it comes to describing the amazing subtlety, relativity, and dynamic nature of such behavioral displays. Consequently we must consider each one of these qualities before we can apply such a label to a behavior, or the adjective “dominant” to the animal who displays it.
Subtlety
Evolution rewards those who get the job done using the least amount of energy. The less energy it takes an animal to establish and secure a territory and find food and water, the more energy available to devote to courting, mating, reproducing, and successfully raising offspring capable of doing the same. Perhaps because we live in a consumptive society that defines more as better, a fair number of folks erroneously believe that the more energy an animal puts into displays aimed at others, the more “dominant” that animal must be. But quite the contrary is true: the more dominant the animal in that particular physical and mental environment at that particular time, the less energy it will cost that animal to maintain that position.
Relativity
Did you notice how sneakily I inserted the qualifier in that particular physical and mental environment at that particular time in the previous sentence? Recognition of these factors is always a must before applying behavioral labels. Consider these two common statements:
What does—or should—it mean when we say, read, or hear that a certain puppy was the most dominant puppy in his litter? Nothing. Not a doggone thing. Why? For starters, we know nothing about the rest of the litter. They could all be shy or ill. Unless we make the statement ourselves, chances are we also won’t know how the person who made it defines dominant. If we can’t or don’t want to ask the source for some reason, many of us will assume that person defines the word the same way we do. But given all the different definitions used by all the academic and nonacademic groups involved in companion animal behavior, the probability of this being true is low.
At this point some of you may be thinking, “If you’d test that puppy, this won’t be a problem.” Would that it were that simple! In reality the testing process is filled from start to finish with assumptions regarding, among other things, the definition of dominant. Unless specifically stated otherwise, we often assume that test developers, those who administer the tests, and all privy to the results agree on what makes a dominant puppy dominant. But sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t. Without nailing down those definitions, any results are meaningless.
Moving on to our second example of the dog who always signals her dominance: aside from words such as always or never making any behavior-related statement highly suspect, this statement also needs context to give it any meaning. We need to know things like what other dogs: all dogs encountered anytime anywhere, or just certain dogs? And how, exactly, is she signaling her dominance? If she’s mounting them, is it rank-communicating, stress-relieving, play-related, behavioral cluelessness, or actually a sexual display? It’s important to determine this because none of the preceding displays may warrant a response from a more physically and mentally fit animal. In that case, the mounted dog wouldn’t be accepting her higher rank but merely tolerating an inappropriate display because it’s not worth the energy to do otherwise.
Another example of the relative nature of dominance: Think about those qualities that would make an individual superior in one set of circumstances, but render that same individual vulnerable in another. For example, a large, aggressive street dog may gain rank in an environment in which those qualities enable that animal to secure the most resources, such as competing with other less physically fit street animals for a limited amount of garbage in a dump. But put that same dog in an environment in which it requires stealth to pilfer food from bigger humans, and suddenly his size and aggression become a liability. In that situation, the smaller more cautious dog becomes the one who will survive long enough to add his genes to the gene pool.
Dynamic
Like humans, animals change. And as they change so do their relationships with others. In social species, young animals mature and move into their prime while those in their prime move past it into middle age. Meanwhile those in middle age eventually become elderly and die. At each step in this progression, some individuals may succeed in raising their status at the expense of others who lose it. This is perfectly normal animal behavior. Consequently definitions that imply that labels such as dominant will last a lifetime should be viewed with suspicion, as should those recommendations to impose an artificial fixed social structure on groups of animals.
So…
From this it seems safe to say that, whereas the animal kingdom relies on a behavioral system that takes all variables into account when ensuring group stability, such flexibility may strike some of us as too messy or too out of control. When this occurs, the temptation to cram the meaning of these and other behavioral terms into neat little definitions that everyone uses and impose those definitions on animals may be difficult to resist.
But be that as it may, most of us have heard the story of the 3 blind men describing the whole elephant based on the information each gains from clinging to one particular part of the elephant’s anatomy. Multiply the elephant’s size and the blind population clinging to pachydermal body parts by at least a hundredfold and you get some idea of the confusion these attempts to define terms may create. When any differences in opinion trigger nasty terminology-wars and turf battles that swirl around whose animal behavioral terminology is “right”, those who only want to do their best may find themselves floundering.
But not to worry. From my perspective there are four sane approaches to this problem:
If you’re an analogical thinker like I am, requesting an example of the behavior to which they apply the word in question may help more than a/their textbook definition which may include other terms about which disagreement may exist. Similarly, using examples in discussions with others will make it easier for them to determine how you’re defining certain terms too.
Granted none of these options is perfect. But barring that happy day when we can just sniff other folks and know how they define behavioral terms, we’ll have to depend on our bigger cerebral cortices to help us do the best we can.