What does it mean to be truly human? One answer is that a person’s humanity might be measured by their capacity to empathically connect with another.
”You can judge a society by how they treat their weakest.” Ghandi.
There is no ‘I’ without a ‘thou’. For as long as the other is an ‘it’, then so are we.
‘Whatsoever you do unto the least of my brothers, you do unto me.’ Matt 25;40.
So governmental ruling that animals don’t have feelings has an effect much wider and greater than the already sorry state of animal welfare. Downgrading the sentience of any Other means we lose more than our connection to and care for them. We erode our own internal cohesion as well. The capacity for reflection is diminished. Inner dialogue’s pathways become overgrown.
When we diminish the Other we become less able to enjoy and be emotionally nourished by them. We become less able to respond, to be responsible. We become less affected by loss. It too is degraded from the noble Grief of Bonds Broken to corrective medication for anxiety and depression.
Our disconnection from the plight of the Other might seem like respite from concern but in the fullness of time it brings poetic justice in it’s wake….,
‘…cessation of interest in the outside world, loss of the capacity to love, inhibition of activity and a lowering of self regard that finds utterance in self reproaches and self revilings..’ S. Freud.
This reduced capacity for both joy and sorrow is endemic in our culture, yet easily evades detection since such whittling away at the Principle of Relatedness in a world already enthralled to macho Gods that won’t talk to or acknowledge one another is as difficult to spot as a black cat in a dark room.
One of the reasons we can get so close to animals is that language is often garnish to tone and gesture, where the main body of communication resides, in which many creatures are already fluent, notwithstanding the human capacity to identify with species that can personify both our instinctuality and higher wisdom, sometimes bringing extraordinary benefits to the humans in the frame.
Clinical studies show that this ‘participation mystique’, which allows shared identity whilst honoring separation, alleviates depression and the autistic encapsulation suffered by isolated consciousness. Churchill described the depression he struggled with as his ‘black dog.’ Had he a black dog at his side he might not have had to have it within.
My old dog Noyle had a most unusual gift. He would go and sit quietly next to anyone who was emotionally upset. He was quite unobtrusive in his attention and would sit at an angle so as not to be impolite, though once in a while would catch your eye to let you know he was still there. And so all of a person’s feelings could be safely expressed. It was as though he just soaked them all up. So anger never lingered, hurt got directly attended, sadness was just allowed and moods dispelled.
Noyle’s magic went further. When my son was twelve he was taken away by authorities whose expert opinion it was that a man could not raise a child. He was eventually returned but in the meanwhile I was emotionally devastated by the loss of my son whom I’d raised single handed since he was a baby.
One night I was weeping in bed. Noyle was sat beside me holding his habitual vigil for anyone in pain. All of a sudden it seemed that a voice rose up in the darkness, not from Noyle himself exactly, but from the space between us, some well pool of Being that contained us both,..
‘you hurt because you love the young master so much..’
I nodded..
‘if the pain could be taken away by lessening the love would you accept that?’
I shook my head, no.
‘then embrace your loss. It is the secret face of love.’
Now, ten years later, the boy is a man and the old dog lies dead. I buried my face in his neck for a final time and as I struggled with hot tears I heard a familiar voice in our between…
‘you hurt because you loved the old dog so much…’
So beautiful.?