Anthropomorphism. Say what?!

I am learning so much.

My classes are blowing my mind and shaking everything I thought about animals. It's crazy! One thing we're discussing is animal culture. Yeah, animal culture. I hadn't heard anything along those lines either. But if you think about it, culture can be described simply as what we learn from generations before us; behaviors, rituals, etc. that we don't inherently know, but are taught to us. I'm sure if I grew up in East Asia, I would have Chinese culture instead of American, even if I was caucasian. I would not have learned what it means to have American culture because of my different context.

Animals do the same. They pass down rituals and behaviors that are not instinct. Mothers, fathers, and other adults in a population teach their youngsters how to live. Some behaviors are innate, while others are learned.

This brings up anthropomorphism. Yup, big word. I'll explain it to the best of my ability, but bear with me. I'm just learning it myself. Anthropomorphism (this bold font is starting to make this look like a text book - so sorry!) is our tendency to think that animals are just like us, that their behaviors reflect what the same behavior would reflect if we were to perform it. Some people like to think that we know what it's like to be other animals. Have you ever guessed what's going on in your cat's mind when she does something?

I'm reading The Ape and the Sushi Master by Frans de Waal for one of my classes, and it lays out pretty well how animal culture is different from human culture, just as different cultures from across the world are different from our own. I think there are some universals between anthropological cultures - a smile, laughter, certain gestures and tone of voice. But the difference between animal and human culture is to an even higher degree.

de Waal writes,

Without experience with primates, one might think a grinning rhesus monkey must be delighted, or that a chimpanzee running toward another with loud grunts must be in an aggressive mood. But primatologists know from hours of watching that rhesus bare their teeth when intimidated and that chimpanzees often grunt when they meet and embrace. In other words, a grinning rhesus monkey signals submission, and grunting by a chimpanzee serves as a greeting. In this way the careful observer arrives at an informed anthropomorphism that is often at odds with extrapolations from human behavior (74).

I think we need a healthy balance between anthropomorphism (believing that animals express themselves the same ways we do and that any realizations about ourselves can be made about animals also) and anthropodenial (coined by de Waal to denote our belief that we have absolutely nothing in common with animals - we can't relate to them or learn anything about ourselves when studying them, and that we need to keep a safe distance in research as to not get connected to our subjects). You cannot understand culture, why a person or individual acts the way they do, innately. It takes time, careful observation, and humility that realizes not everyone is like you.

You may be concerned about my readiness to compare the apples of humans to the oranges of animals. We are simply not the same and I believe that we are God's crown of creation. These ideas will be messy as I sift through them. They probably won't be pretty and they might make you cringe. But I believe that in the mess, I'll be able to figure out for myself what I believe about our human responsibility when it comes to interacting with animals. God gave us dominion over animals - but what does that mean? Jesus certainly redefined this word for us.

Anyway, bear with me. I think animals are more important than we give them credit for. I care for them. God cares for them. And my ideas and beliefs are being oh so shaken.