The vast and wonderful Greek word in
the title is a combination of 'anthropo' meaning human, and 'morphe'
or shape. Anthropomorphizing something is to give it human attributes
or appearances. For instance, if I was to say that the volcano had
something like Elise's temper when it erupted last week, I would be
giving this natural phenomena an emotional motive; the fury of Elise.
The biggest 'culprits' for this kind of thing can be found in the
creatives who dreamed-up their gods, who often just so happened to be
shaped like attractive people or cool animal-human hybrids in so many
different mythos and religions.
Though I can only speak for the modern
mind, I think the following motive explains why anthropomorphism
still exists. It comes down to a deep wish that nature was designed
for us, filled with hidden meaning for us to discover. This gives
nature a mystique, or an extra layer of meaning. As we can never
reach or understand this mystique, we never have to see reality in
all of it's coldness.
Anthropomorphism makes nature seem like
a created order to be enjoyed by us, and used by us. This is
problematic because this idea of 'created for' does not imply a sense
of the permanent flux we exist in. If something is designed, it
implies permanence. If the order of nature is therefore permanent and
'for us', then those who reflect these 'natural values' are of a
similar unchanging and entitled mindset. The greatest example of this
indirect anthropomorphism can be found in fundamentalist religion's
argument from design. It is just ever so slightly silly that Man has
created a creator God, and then had Him create nature for Man!
In reality Man is recreating nature in
his own image. We have always looked to nature for the correct way to
live, or appealed to the word 'natural' as a justifier: the Cynics of
ancient Greece spoke of living the way of nature, venerating the
loyalty and resourcefulness of the dog; the Taoist sage was said to
live the way of nature in a more easy-going sense;
Social 'Darwinists' pick and choose the
violent aspects of (our) nature to justify all sorts of capitalist
nonsense. Yet now, with the fall of religious belief for so many of
us, believing in mother nature is more appealing than it ever has
been. As a result, we still anthropomorphize nature, to give it a
shape we can identify with. Then we profess to learn from it, taking
from it what was never there in the first place.
We also have to quite cynically
remember that crafting something into a human shape means it has no
value outside of us. If it did have value, why would we need to craft
it into human shape in the first place? Why couldn't we stretch our
minds to accept or scrutinise something as it actually is, or just
feel what is there without the intrusion of prejudice?
Anthropomorphism makes things 'human', and of course, only that which
reflects humanity can have value. This is nowhere more obvious than
the word 'humanity' being used as a positive term: 'Put some flowers
up and give the place some humanity' or 'That cow is being treated in
an inhumane fashion'. We may use these terms innocently, but their
meaning is clear enough. It is the simplest form of prejudice, only
reacting positively to something which is similar to yourself. I am
not saying that we should be ashamed of our humanity, far from it!
Only that we do not need to consider something human, or 'humanized'
for it to possess value. This makes any scientific or psychological
examination of animals for behaviours similar to us unnecessary for
us to consider those animals as valuable. To summarize: animals and
plants and natural phenomena do not need to be
humanized for us to consider them.
What is there by nature?
I do not know what the actual 'values'
in nature are, I must admit it. It seems like a bit of a jungle where
animals attract, repel, cooperate, compete, fight, fuck and feed
(all-in-one where the praying mantis is concerned). But whatever
those 'values', if they exist at all, they do not change with our
re-valuation of them. They exist beyond us. We cannot transplant our
values upon nature. Even the animals we take into our direct concern,
or enslave for use in our archaic industries, are apart from us in
that we can never communicate with them in the same way as we can
another human being.
This is not to say that we share
nothing with the animal - we do. Animal kinship is extremely
important and enriching. It is sharing with an animal something
deeply internal in ourselves. We have similar components, and can
recognise one another as alive – the most profound recognition
possible. A cat for instance can feel a sense of attachment, and so
can we. A large spider can recognise you as a threat and duel with
you, feeling something similar to you. We 'risen primates' have
evolved out of nature after all. The problem is we have also diverged
greatly from all other animal life, such that outside of instinct and
an understanding of physical pain / pleasure principles, we share
nothing with the animal. If we assume that Mr.Cat can 'human love' us
back, we are wrong. A cat can only 'cat love', and nothing will alter
this fact.
Another problem with anthropomorphism
is that it is greatly prejudiced. As children we were all forced to
endure humanoid turtles attending to various banal adventures, and we
are all familiar with the ubiquitous teddy bear wearing some kind of
human pyjamas. But where were the Teenage Mutant Ninja Nematodes? Is
the microscopic worm not also worthy of care and consideration - it
is after all the main prey of flesh-eating fungi. What about the
passion and grief of the sea sponge? It is only recently that we have
come close to appreciate such a creature in our artistic output.
Anthropomorphism does not give us any universal principle with which
we can create a system of ethics. It is only the large-eyed fawn, and
the cuddly kitty, and the awe-inspiring bird, and so forth, who we
wish to accept into our bosom as being worthy of consideration. Even
then we often 'misinterpret' an animal's attributes, and create a
false view of it.
The symbolism of animal and plant has
soaked itself into our culture. Birds and predators make great
mascots or patriotic symbols, representing the values of a nation in
all its glory (presumably the lion for its pride and the unicorn for
its stiff-upper lip in the case of Britons!) This is the same kind of
pick-and-choose attitude toward nature that limits our understanding
of it. Whilst it may be artistically and visually impressive, it does
not bode well for our minds, or our environmentalists. We need to
take nature seriously, and to do this, we need to take a step back
from our human prejudices. Besides, which will be the first nation to
sport an armadillo in it's colours; is her stern shell and defiant
heart not also worthy of patriotic grandeur?
Our strange duality toward animals can
be summed up in a single image; the impressive head of a stag upon
the wall of a hunter's cabin. Simultaneously the animal is admired,
and yet was killed for no real reason at all. A DVD copy of 'Bambi'
lies under its lifeless eyes. The hunter's children love animals.
Apparently.
As for the animal ethics which may
arise in our societies once when we de-anthropomorphize nature, I
will save that for my next article on this topic. To summarize: it
will concern the way our attitudes change toward plants and animals
once we stop seeing them purely in relation to how useful they are to
us, but what they are worth in and of themselves.
Selim 'Selim' Talat (the vegetarian
anti-anthropomorphism advocate who nevertheless loves the owls and
kitties in the Phil Tak newsletter!)
