- Email: [email protected]
Exploring the minds of predators
Biological Conservation xxx (xxxx) xxx–xxx
Contents lists available at ScienceDirect
Biological Conservation journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/biocon
Book review Exploring the minds of predators Carnivore Minds: Who These Fearsome Animals Really Are, G.A. Bradshaw. Yale University Press, Chicago, New Haven, CT (2016). Gay Bradshaw is a renaissance woman, with a bachelor's degree in linguistics (Chinese), a master's degree in geophysics, and two Ph.D. degrees: one in ecology and another in psychology. She is therefore well equipped to unite multiple fields into a new synthesis. Her first book, Elephants on the Edge: What Animals Teach Us About Humanity, was the first work to document Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in non-human animals. It won numerous awards, was featured in a cover article in the New York Times Magazine, and was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. In her latest book, Carnivore Minds, Bradshaw synthesizes ethology, psychology, neuroscience, natural history, ecology, and evolutionary biology to build a convincing case that many animals have complex cognitive abilities, behaviors, and social systems not fundamentally different from what we find in humans. Hence, they are worthy of equivalent moral consideration. Her beautiful writing makes this case powerfully. The animals Bradshaw focuses on in this book are carnivores. I initially supposed this meant members of the mammalian order Carnivora. A grizzly bear, an omnivorous member of this order, is featured on the front cover. The animals Bradshaw discusses, however, include not only bears, pumas, and coyotes, but also sharks, orcas, sperm whales, crocodilians, and rattlesnakes, among others. What all these species have in common, besides eating other animals, Bradshaw argues, is that they are targets of human persecution. This harassment disrupts their social systems and mental health, causing aberrant and maladaptive behavior. The focus of the book would have been clearer if she had used the term “predator” rather than “carnivore,” though Bradshaw argues (not quite convincingly) that “predator” also includes herbivores. But this is a minor quibble. What does this book offer to conservation scientists? Most important, this work clearly demonstrates that the conventional attention of conservationists to habitat quantity and quality and population dynamics is not nearly enough to save intelligent wild animals. We must also, Bradshaw insists, “take action to prevent psychosocial trauma.” Among the human actions that cause this trauma are hunting, trapping, poisoning, other persecution, habitat alteration, captivity, and translocations. Although probably most conservationists oppose hunting of predators, except under unusual circumstances, Bradshaw sometimes extends her harsh criticism of killing predators to a generic condemnation of hunting, which will irritate some readers. Although I would personally prefer to see herbivore populations controlled by native predators, many cases exist in which superabundant herbivore populations occur in human-dominated landscapes where large native predators could not survive. Human hunting or trapping is often needed to control these herbivores, which can cause great damage to vegetation, flora, and animals that depend on intact herbaceous or shrub-level vegetation. This should have been acknowledged in this book. The feral hogs that overrun the conservation areas of Florida remind me daily of the need for increased hunting and trapping. A recurring theme in Carnivore Minds is that the stress imposed by human persecution disrupts animal social systems and causes a breakdown of normal behavioral patterns and an increase in murders of conspecifics and attacks on humans. These behaviors are all linked by Bradshaw to PTSD. Bradshaw makes a strong case that orcas, for instance, have a strong social taboo against killing each other or killing humans. As the story of Tilikum, the orca who killed his trainer at Sea World-Orlando (after two previous fatal attacks) illustrates, the psychological stress of capture, separation from family members, and a long period of demeaning captivity, can turn these intelligent animals into psychopaths. Parallels to human behavior are made throughout the book, which might raise some eyebrows, but Bradshaw cites primatologist Frans deWaal in rejecting “anthropodenial” and herpetologist Gordon Burghardt in calling for “critical anthropomorphism,” whereby researchers recognize cross-species similarities, but are careful not to impose their experiences onto their subjects. The field of epigenetics is often invoked in this book to explain the interacting influences of nature and nurture on animal behavior. Carnivore Minds is full of fascinating, heart-warming stories about individual animals and their families and friends, as well as their natural histories. It includes compelling examples of close friendships between individual animals and the humans they've learned to trust, and of acts of interspecies kindness and compassion. It shows that animals as ostensibly primitive and “mindless as sharks” are not only intelligent, but in some cases are social and cooperative, with distinct individual personalities. Most of the stories, however, turn out to be sad tales of human insensitivity and brutality. It is not always easy reading. Given the subject matter, much of the information in this book is subjective, anecdotal, and speculative. The evidence linking predator attacks on humans to psychological trauma, for example, may not be quite as strong as Bradshaw presents. The predators might just be hungry! This is not a serious flaw of the book, however. Speculation is to be expected, even welcomed, in any new science, especially such an enormously broad, interdisciplinary science that Bradshaw has been in the forefront of creating. It might be that Bradshaw would object to her field being called a science, as she is harshly critical of much of conventional ethology and wildlife and evolutionary biology, among other traditional disciplines. A note at the beginning of the book by naturalist and bear enthusiast Charlie Russell states that most scientists do not tell the truth. This statement is insulting to scientists, and sounds like what we hear so often these days from anti-intellectual populists. Finding truth is the ultimate objective of science, and most scientists follow this mission rigorously and honestly. Surely Bradshaw wants scientists on her side. After the “naturalist's note” by Russell, the book begins with an interesting foreword by eminent neuropsychologist Allan Schore. This is followed http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.biocon.2017.05.024 Received 13 May 2017; Accepted 23 May 2017 0006-3207/
Biological Conservation xxx (xxxx) xxx–xxx
Book review
by a preface and introductory chapter, which outline what is to come and emphasize the importance of disciplinary unification. The main prejudices against carnivores are reviewed in the introduction. Then come seven chapters and an epilogue, which highlight particular predator species or groups of related species. Comparisons to other species, such as elephants, are made throughout. These case studies, rich in detail, are an excellent way to present this sometimes challenging material. That the book was not particularly well edited was disappointing. Typographical errors and misspellings (e.g., Canis lupis instead of Canis lupus) occur throughout, in addition to some factual errors. For example, Nathaniel Reed was Assistant Secretary of Interior, not Assistant Secretary of State, and dates for past events occurring in the 2100s raise questions about the care taken in reviewing the manuscript. I would have expected better from a university press. Carnivore Minds, despite its engrossing natural history stories, is ultimately a tragedy. There's really nothing else it could be without being dishonest. Bradshaw persuasively argues that predators are victims of genocide. To correct this horrible situation, conservationists must look beyond habitat protection, captive breeding, translocations, and other conventional conservation actions and begin to think about how to treat animals with the same degree of respect and kindness that we are taught to show toward other humans. Given uncertainty in this new field, Bradshaw rightly risks erring on the side of attributing high intelligence, emotions, and morality to predators. The burden of proof is on those who deny these attributes. A paradox of human psychology is that we love our pet dogs and cats (among other pet carnivores) but many of us hate their close wild relatives, to the point of trying to eliminate them. We have succeeded all too well in many regions of the world. Wild apex predators, as Bradshaw notes, challenge the role of humans as top of the food chain. I hope this book opens our minds and hearts to greater empathy and compassion for animals that are quite capable of killing us, but usually choose not to. Given the well-established importance of apex predators in many ecosystems, this book does a tremendous service in telling us what they need, not only to survive, but to lead the rich, fulfilling lives they led for thousands to millions of years before modern humans invaded their homelands. Reed F. Noss Conservation Science, Inc., 2205 Sultan Circle, Chuluota, FL 32766, USA E-mail address: [email protected]
2
Contents lists available at ScienceDirect
Biological Conservation journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/biocon
Book review Exploring the minds of predators Carnivore Minds: Who These Fearsome Animals Really Are, G.A. Bradshaw. Yale University Press, Chicago, New Haven, CT (2016). Gay Bradshaw is a renaissance woman, with a bachelor's degree in linguistics (Chinese), a master's degree in geophysics, and two Ph.D. degrees: one in ecology and another in psychology. She is therefore well equipped to unite multiple fields into a new synthesis. Her first book, Elephants on the Edge: What Animals Teach Us About Humanity, was the first work to document Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in non-human animals. It won numerous awards, was featured in a cover article in the New York Times Magazine, and was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. In her latest book, Carnivore Minds, Bradshaw synthesizes ethology, psychology, neuroscience, natural history, ecology, and evolutionary biology to build a convincing case that many animals have complex cognitive abilities, behaviors, and social systems not fundamentally different from what we find in humans. Hence, they are worthy of equivalent moral consideration. Her beautiful writing makes this case powerfully. The animals Bradshaw focuses on in this book are carnivores. I initially supposed this meant members of the mammalian order Carnivora. A grizzly bear, an omnivorous member of this order, is featured on the front cover. The animals Bradshaw discusses, however, include not only bears, pumas, and coyotes, but also sharks, orcas, sperm whales, crocodilians, and rattlesnakes, among others. What all these species have in common, besides eating other animals, Bradshaw argues, is that they are targets of human persecution. This harassment disrupts their social systems and mental health, causing aberrant and maladaptive behavior. The focus of the book would have been clearer if she had used the term “predator” rather than “carnivore,” though Bradshaw argues (not quite convincingly) that “predator” also includes herbivores. But this is a minor quibble. What does this book offer to conservation scientists? Most important, this work clearly demonstrates that the conventional attention of conservationists to habitat quantity and quality and population dynamics is not nearly enough to save intelligent wild animals. We must also, Bradshaw insists, “take action to prevent psychosocial trauma.” Among the human actions that cause this trauma are hunting, trapping, poisoning, other persecution, habitat alteration, captivity, and translocations. Although probably most conservationists oppose hunting of predators, except under unusual circumstances, Bradshaw sometimes extends her harsh criticism of killing predators to a generic condemnation of hunting, which will irritate some readers. Although I would personally prefer to see herbivore populations controlled by native predators, many cases exist in which superabundant herbivore populations occur in human-dominated landscapes where large native predators could not survive. Human hunting or trapping is often needed to control these herbivores, which can cause great damage to vegetation, flora, and animals that depend on intact herbaceous or shrub-level vegetation. This should have been acknowledged in this book. The feral hogs that overrun the conservation areas of Florida remind me daily of the need for increased hunting and trapping. A recurring theme in Carnivore Minds is that the stress imposed by human persecution disrupts animal social systems and causes a breakdown of normal behavioral patterns and an increase in murders of conspecifics and attacks on humans. These behaviors are all linked by Bradshaw to PTSD. Bradshaw makes a strong case that orcas, for instance, have a strong social taboo against killing each other or killing humans. As the story of Tilikum, the orca who killed his trainer at Sea World-Orlando (after two previous fatal attacks) illustrates, the psychological stress of capture, separation from family members, and a long period of demeaning captivity, can turn these intelligent animals into psychopaths. Parallels to human behavior are made throughout the book, which might raise some eyebrows, but Bradshaw cites primatologist Frans deWaal in rejecting “anthropodenial” and herpetologist Gordon Burghardt in calling for “critical anthropomorphism,” whereby researchers recognize cross-species similarities, but are careful not to impose their experiences onto their subjects. The field of epigenetics is often invoked in this book to explain the interacting influences of nature and nurture on animal behavior. Carnivore Minds is full of fascinating, heart-warming stories about individual animals and their families and friends, as well as their natural histories. It includes compelling examples of close friendships between individual animals and the humans they've learned to trust, and of acts of interspecies kindness and compassion. It shows that animals as ostensibly primitive and “mindless as sharks” are not only intelligent, but in some cases are social and cooperative, with distinct individual personalities. Most of the stories, however, turn out to be sad tales of human insensitivity and brutality. It is not always easy reading. Given the subject matter, much of the information in this book is subjective, anecdotal, and speculative. The evidence linking predator attacks on humans to psychological trauma, for example, may not be quite as strong as Bradshaw presents. The predators might just be hungry! This is not a serious flaw of the book, however. Speculation is to be expected, even welcomed, in any new science, especially such an enormously broad, interdisciplinary science that Bradshaw has been in the forefront of creating. It might be that Bradshaw would object to her field being called a science, as she is harshly critical of much of conventional ethology and wildlife and evolutionary biology, among other traditional disciplines. A note at the beginning of the book by naturalist and bear enthusiast Charlie Russell states that most scientists do not tell the truth. This statement is insulting to scientists, and sounds like what we hear so often these days from anti-intellectual populists. Finding truth is the ultimate objective of science, and most scientists follow this mission rigorously and honestly. Surely Bradshaw wants scientists on her side. After the “naturalist's note” by Russell, the book begins with an interesting foreword by eminent neuropsychologist Allan Schore. This is followed http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.biocon.2017.05.024 Received 13 May 2017; Accepted 23 May 2017 0006-3207/
Biological Conservation xxx (xxxx) xxx–xxx
Book review
by a preface and introductory chapter, which outline what is to come and emphasize the importance of disciplinary unification. The main prejudices against carnivores are reviewed in the introduction. Then come seven chapters and an epilogue, which highlight particular predator species or groups of related species. Comparisons to other species, such as elephants, are made throughout. These case studies, rich in detail, are an excellent way to present this sometimes challenging material. That the book was not particularly well edited was disappointing. Typographical errors and misspellings (e.g., Canis lupis instead of Canis lupus) occur throughout, in addition to some factual errors. For example, Nathaniel Reed was Assistant Secretary of Interior, not Assistant Secretary of State, and dates for past events occurring in the 2100s raise questions about the care taken in reviewing the manuscript. I would have expected better from a university press. Carnivore Minds, despite its engrossing natural history stories, is ultimately a tragedy. There's really nothing else it could be without being dishonest. Bradshaw persuasively argues that predators are victims of genocide. To correct this horrible situation, conservationists must look beyond habitat protection, captive breeding, translocations, and other conventional conservation actions and begin to think about how to treat animals with the same degree of respect and kindness that we are taught to show toward other humans. Given uncertainty in this new field, Bradshaw rightly risks erring on the side of attributing high intelligence, emotions, and morality to predators. The burden of proof is on those who deny these attributes. A paradox of human psychology is that we love our pet dogs and cats (among other pet carnivores) but many of us hate their close wild relatives, to the point of trying to eliminate them. We have succeeded all too well in many regions of the world. Wild apex predators, as Bradshaw notes, challenge the role of humans as top of the food chain. I hope this book opens our minds and hearts to greater empathy and compassion for animals that are quite capable of killing us, but usually choose not to. Given the well-established importance of apex predators in many ecosystems, this book does a tremendous service in telling us what they need, not only to survive, but to lead the rich, fulfilling lives they led for thousands to millions of years before modern humans invaded their homelands. Reed F. Noss Conservation Science, Inc., 2205 Sultan Circle, Chuluota, FL 32766, USA E-mail address: [email protected]
2