In his last years debts forced American author Mark Twain to lecture across North America. He delivered humorous talks; one line that never failed to get a laugh was, "Man is the only animal that blushes—or needs to." Twain's audience was amused partly because they recognized a truth, but also because they thought the concept of animal emotions ludicrous. Today those who share the sentiments of Twain's turn-of-the-century audience are denounced by a growing animal liberation army as ignorant, even bigoted. If this profound change in man's status—from crown of creation to no longer even first among equals—becomes widely accepted it will, by necessity, transform civilization, likely not to the benefit of man nor beast.

A landmark in the campaign for recognition of animal emotions was the publication last year of When Elephants Weep: The Emotional Lives of Animals. This book, which has sold over 500,000 copies, was written by psychoanalyst Jeffrey Masson and scientist Susan McCarthy. In support of their thesis the authors offer the story of Sadie, a circus elephant who could not master a trick she was being taught. As punishment, her trainers hit her with a stick. "To their astonishment," the authors write, "Sadie, who was lying down, began to utter racking sobs, and tears poured from her eyes. The dumbfounded trainers knelt by Sadie, caressing her." She was never punished again; "She learned the act and became a 'good' circus elephant."

Despite the attempts of Mr. Masson and Ms. McCarthy to prove otherwise, it is generally accepted that tears and sobs notwithstanding, animals do not have emotions in any human sense of the word. But a review of events at year's end show that many British Columbians believe not only that animals enjoy equality of sentiment with people, but also equality of rights. These events range from reactions to the death of Tuk, the polar bear who came to symbolize the "exploitive" animal exhibits at the city's now defunct Stanley Park Zoo, to the unsuccessful attempts by the Vancouver Aquarium to buy a female companion for its killer whale Bjossa (it is legally constrained from capturing one in the wild), to the million-dollar dog walk bought by the City of Richmond.

But perhaps the most extensive manifestation of the animal rights movement is the "no-kill" animal shelter. Such shelters, says Mandy Butcher, founder of a Kitsilano cat shelter called Meow Aid, are run on the premise that "non-human animals have the same intrinsic value as human animals" and therefore deserve the same care as humans: food, shelter—and emotional support.

The term no-kill is resented by animal control workers affiliated with the more traditional Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, partly because the SPCA's charter, unlike that of no-kill facilities, forbids them to turn away any animal, no matter how ill or injured, and partly because no-kill is something of a misnomer. If no-kill shelters do not kill as many animals as the SPCA, it is simply because they are allowed to be more discriminating about which animals they accept. As far as can be determined, all no-kill shelters kill dogs and cats deemed not adoptable, as well as animals suffering from chronic pain or terminal illness. Nor do no-kill shelters hesitate to abort pregnant cats and dogs. "We send [unborn kittens and puppies] back to wherever they came from," says Mrs. Butcher.

Nevertheless, attracted by the compassion inherent in the name, no-kill shelters are breeding like rabbits. In 1991 Shelter Sense magazine estimated there were approximately 60 such shelters in the U.S. By 1995 the Doing Things for Animals' No Kill Directory listed almost 200. And the 1998 edition will list about 700. Today there are five in the Vancouver area.

But critics say the animals-are-equal-to-humans philosophy could lead to the end of pet-keeping, or even the end of livestock as a source of human food. They reason that by humanizing animals, then controlling their populations through "euthanasia" (which has replaced the politically incorrect "putting down") and abortion, it becomes easier to think human populations must be controlled by similar means.

Furthermore, say the critics, animal rightists are a danger to society because they are, sometimes unwittingly, the acceptable face of terrorist groups, including the Animal Liberation Front (ALF), which was recently declared "a threat to the security of Canada" by the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (see story, page 26), and Earth First, the Luddite force behind the effort to drive B.C.'s forest industry into bankruptcy.

The anti-pet attitude within the no-kill pet shelters is obvious. According to Judy Stone, founder of West Vancouver's Animal Advocates, animals are equal to humans, ergo, humans have no right to dictate how animals live. Ms. Stone's believes that "An animal in a cage is a prisoner." She also thinks that all "use [of animals] is abuse. They're the same. There's no distinction." She denies that she wants to end pet-keeping, but her denial rings hollow. "All animals are abused," she says, "if we use them for our own ends." Because "dogs are pack animals" she would even forbid their use as companions unless there was more than one dog in the house. "We should not interfere with how another species lives its life," she says.

One of Ms. Stone's campaigns is the passing and enforcement of "tied dog" bylaws in B.C. If enacted, such regulations would ensure that all dogs have adequate exercise and living conditions, as well as same-species company. Not only would such restrictions remove pets from many otherwise lonely B.C. singles and elderly, it would also vastly increase governments' search-and-seizure powers. Such bylaws might even encourage animal activists to more boldly "liberate" pets that by their definition are abused, or "lonely." Ms. Stone sees a day when "it would be a widely held public perception that it's not okay for a dog to be alone."

Mrs. Butcher goes even further in her drive to eliminate the human use of animals, admitting that though she concentrates on caring for unwanted cats, she does not think animals should be used for food or work either. "But I can't change farming," she says, "So I'm working with cats. There I can make a difference." Mrs. Butcher is careful not to say too much about her ultimate goals as an animal advocate. But she argues that ultimately "sheltering is not the way to go" and volunteers the fact that some of her cohorts "don't believe in animals as companion pets."

But the pet-keeping of the future may be somewhat more time-consuming than it is today. Vancouverite Michelle Blaney takes in unwanted parrots, currently caring for four macaws, an African grey parrot and a cockatiel. According to Vancouver Sun columnist Nicholas Read, the birds dominate her life. Not only has she sustained "hundreds" of injuries while teaching the birds to trust her, she continues to spend up to five hours a day caring for them. In addition to group time, Ms. Blaney gives each bird at least 30 minutes of individual attention daily. The attention is necessary, she says, because the birds are so intelligent.

To reduce animal abuse, Mrs. Butcher, along with all animal shelters, including the SPCA, champions near- universal spaying and neutering. "It's not possible to [end all pet reproduction] in one generation," she admits. "So I suppose that some limited breeding permits could be granted if people are just hell-bent on having kittens."

Kathe Jeffries, who cares for more than 30 dogs and 60 cats at the no-kill shelter she runs on her 12-acre property at McConnell Creek, 15 miles northeast of Mission, would not deny people the privilege of keeping a pet. She even agrees they "make nice companions." "But only," she says, "if they aren't treated as objects." Ms. Jeffries is particularly incensed that people have their pets put down "just because they're moving." "Society wouldn't allow them to treat children this way," she says. "But you can make all kinds of excuses for pets."

Like other no-kill advocates, Ms. Jeffries' philosophy of animal equality compels her to be a vegetarian. She sees vegetarianism as "more healthy and more moral," and necessary for consistency. "I couldn't eat meat and rescue animals," she says. "I can't make that distinction." But she can make it for her animal charges. "You can't ask carnivores to be vegetarian just because meat-eating isn't nice," she says.

In attempting to provide scientific justification for her views on animals, Ms. Stone makes reference to Mr. Masson's book on elephant tears. "He's a Ph.D.," she says, "and now that scientists are beginning to see that animals have emotions, you can no longer deny what common sense has always told billions of pet lovers." Mr. Masson has just published Dogs Never Lie About Love: Reflections on the Emotional World of Dogs, which has received rapturous praise from animal rightists.

But Mr. Masson is not being praised by scientists and scholars, who note that he is a Freudian psychologist, not an expert on animals. "Masson's book on dogs is terrible," comments University of B.C. psychology professor Stanley Coren, author of What Do Dogs Know?: Canine Consciousness and Capabilities. Prof. Coren, who teaches dog obedience and enters his dogs in obedience competitions, says it is illegitimate to assume that animal actions that may resemble human actions are motivated by similar reasoning. "Mr. Masson thinks that because he saw two elephants stare at the horizon they were admiring the sunset," he says. "But I have a cat that stares at blank walls. Can I assume she is meditating on the Zen of nothingness?"

Prof. Coren is willing to grant dogs such feelings as fear and anger. But he insists some human emotions find no equivalent in the dog world. "They don't have guilt," he says. "They are afraid of being punished, but they've already forgotten what they did." According to Prof. Coren, anyone who studies animal behaviour understands that for food and other reasons "animals have always used other animals." For him, the distinguishing mark of humanity is the ability to show true kindness, to avoid treating others as mere objects. "Anybody who doesn't make the moral distinction between animals and humans is just silly," he concludes.

And blind to the grave dangers of the animal rights philosophy, adds University of Alberta philosophy professor Leon Craig. "What these people don't realize," he says, "is that initially they have to rely on a high view of man to ratify their comparable treatment of animals." But, he argues, eventually the same people begin to think of humans as "just" animals. "And that makes it easier to say, 'Let's not get too excited' about what could be serious violations of human rights."

The 20th century has been stained by the blood of the victims who have been sacrificed when societies no longer consider human beings uniquely valuable. In his 1990 book By Trust Betrayed Hugh Gallagher documents that beginning long before the Second World War, and at first quite independent of any Nazi influence, German doctors began eliminating those they considered unfit, insane or chronically ill. Nor was the threshold for extinction very high. Some were killed because they were incorrigible bedwetters. But all were deemed, in the doctors' phraseology not worth keeping alive. Mr. Gallagher reports that over 200,000 Germans lost their lives in this fashion. "It has been said that physicians are often frustrated by their inability to cure their chronic patients," writes Mr. Gallagher. "If this is so, in the Germany of the 1930s physicians sought to eliminate this frustration by eliminating the source—their patients."

The Christian religion has always taught that animals exist to serve man, and that only men have immortal souls. Yet this "speciesism" is now under attack by liberal Christians. For centuries many Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican churches have blessed animals, primarily to ask God to increase livestock fecundity and health. But last June Vancouver's St. Andrews-Wesley United Church invited hundreds of animals, everything from dogs to horses to sheep to snakes, inside the church to share in a worship service that recognized them as valued partners of people and God. The Rev. Shelagh MacKinnon said her service, which was attended by more than 1,500 people, was held to "challenge the domination theory of so many centuries and to reappraise our relationship to all creation."

Vancouver's Christ Church Anglican Cathedral also brought the animals inside, this time to participate in a liturgy written by Oxford theologian and vegetarian Andrew Linzey. Professor Linzey is perhaps best known for the criticism he levelled three years ago at the newly released Catechism of the Catholic Church. He was angered by the catechism's statement that while "it is contrary to human dignity to cause animals to suffer or die needlessly, it is likewise unworthy to spend money on them that should as a priority go to the relief of human misery."

The professor complained, "A world in which animal cruelty goes unchecked is a morally unsafe world for human beings." But in an editorial in First Things magazine, editor Richard John Neuhaus, a Catholic priest, rejoined that "a world in which the singularity of human dignity and responsibility is not clearly maintained is catastrophic for everyone and everything, including animals."

It is precisely for the purpose of putting Prof. Linzey's words into deeds that motivates such radical animal rights groups as ALF, Earth First and People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA). According to Barry Clausen, a private investigator who specializes in exposing such groups, their public campaigns on behalf of animals and nature have two effects. First, they cause people to cheer secretly when animal activists blow up buildings, poison turkeys at Thanksgiving and otherwise endanger human life. Second, assisted by many school environmental programs, as well as the preaching done by local no-kill shelter operators, their propaganda has so influenced North American young people that Mr. Clausen fears the effects "will take years to subside."

But it must, Mr. Clausen argues, because PETA people and eco-terrorists, as well as some of their less violent fellow travellers, are worshippers of Gaia, and believe the earth is a living being and that those who damage her deserve punishment. Such a religious commitment, he contends, allows no compromise and is committed to the complete destruction of industrial society. Such accusations might sound extreme, but Mr. Clausen's credentials are sound. They include his being the first to document the connection between Theodore Kaczynski, the so-called Unabomber, and the radical environmentalists at Earth First. He was also active in alerting CSIS to ALF's terrorism. Still, Mr. Clausen remains optimistic that the future will see a return to traditional ideas about animals. "We're not at a point of no return," he says. "People are starting to wake up to the dangers of deifying nature."

—Shafer Parker Jr.

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