(2007: xii) goes as far as to state: ‘There was increasingly compelling evidence that we are not alone in the universe, not the only creatures with minds capable of solving problems, capable of love and hate, joy and sorrow, fear and despair.’ The Cambridge Declaration on Consciousness, written by Philip Low (2012) and ratified by some of the world’s contemporary leading thinkers, is written in a much drier and less emotional academic prose. It stated: ‘the weight of evidence indicates that humans are not unique in possessing the neurological substrates that generate consciousness. Non-human animals, including all mammals and birds, and many other creatures, including octopuses, also possess these neurological substrates’, and clearly recognizes the potential sentience of the non-human animal through its possession of a consciousness. Bringing the focus back to dogs Steiner (2005: 243) has indicated that they: ‘exhibit behaviour that strongly suggests rich emotional lives and complex ways of negotiating their environments’. Similarly, the rich consciousness of dogs and their potential to have a soul is illustrated by Horowitz (2009a: 139) who wrote:
Look a dog in the eyes and you get the definite feeling that he is looking back. Dogs return our gaze. Their look is more than just setting eyes on us; they are looking at us in the same way that we look at them. The importance of the dog’s gaze, when it is directed at our faces, is that gaze implies a frame of mind. It implies attention. A gazer is both paying attention to you and, possibly, paying attention to your own attention.
Following on from the views of people such as Goodall and Steiner, Bekoff (2007: 18), among others, has suggested that: ‘ethical values tell us that animals should not be viewed as property, as resources, or as disposable machines that exist for human consumption, treated like bicycles or backpacks’. This turns the matter of the rights and welfare of animals away from something that is simply related to the sentience of animals and therefore within their power (such as it is) and into a human construct where our ethical values have a bearing on the animal. In this way, as normal, the human is the one in the position of power, dispensing animal rights and welfare according to human ethical standards.
The leading proponents of the notion that dogs have sentience are the owners of dogs, in particular pet dogs (Sanders, 1999). Ask almost any person who has a pet dog and they are likely to tell you that their dog understands and empathizes with them: two clear indicators of sentience. Are these people right or are they delusional, interpreting animal behaviour through rose-tinted human eyes and as a result guilty of anthropomorphism, of imposing human traits on objects or non-human animals – dogs in this case? Certainly traditionally such dog owners have been viewed as eccentric for voicing such opinions (Rudy, 2011), but arguably such an opinion is beginning to change, though the more extreme views espoused by some owners are still ridiculed, as society embraces these views in a manner that is at least partially driven by the widening ownership of pet dogs and the changing views of the scientific community.
The question of sentience is crucial because it forms the basis of arguments surrounding the ‘rights’ of dogs. If they are mere objects, devoid of any sign of sentience, then we can all too easily dismiss the notion that dogs have any rights at all. Rather, as simple objects they are owned by individuals who may do as they wish with said objects with impunity. On the other hand, if dogs have a level of sentience akin to that of humans then by default they should also have the rights that have been enshrined for humans in a variety of universal laws thanks to the United Nations, among other bodies.
With the argument about the sentience of dogs still unresolved it is difficult to determine what the rights of dogs should be. Therefore, rather than relying on science to provide the answer, societies and individuals must continue to decide for themselves on the question of sentience and the related issue of rights. To me, it is clear that dogs do have a kind of sentience; that they are capable of independent thought and of understanding and interacting with different species (most notably, though certainly not exclusively, humans). Is this sentience the same as humans possess? No, I would suggest that it is not, while at the same time suggesting that just because it is not does not mean it is of lesser importance.
So where does this leave the debate about the rights of dogs? If we assume they are sentient beings then we must accept they have rights; rights that relate to their physical and mental well-being. Yet since the dog cannot speak the same language as humans there remains the potential for misinterpretation, wilful or not, with good intentions or otherwise, concerning the needs of dogs and hence the requirements for their welfare and by extension the defining of their rights. At one extreme Rudy (2011) has stated that those proposing the strongest animal rights have suggested we should stop breeding domesticated animals; that we should not cuddle or walk them or use them in our leisure. For me personally this is several steps too far and is also a human-oriented view rather than one that truly takes the animals’ views into consideration. Domesticated animals exist because of humans and would cease to exist without our active involvement. While we can argue that the initial involvement was misguided, abandoning such animals now will lead to their extinction, something that is more appalling, at least to me, than the original domestication of animals. With specific reference to the dog, it is clearly an animal that through its heritage and human-influenced breeding is strongly bonded to humans. To deprive it of such contact is to take a moral high ground that ignores the mental well-being of a species and the associated right of the dog to be with humans if it so wishes.
Consequently, rather than suggesting a blanket ban on dogs to fit well with an idealized standpoint on animal rights that ignores the reality of human–animal interactions that can be beneficial for and desired by all participants, I adopt a more nuanced approach that has the welfare of the dog at the centre. In this way I have no argument with the five freedoms promoted by the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA), among others (freedom from hunger and thirst; freedom from discomfort; freedom from pain, injury and disease; freedom to express normal behaviour; and freedom from fear and distress (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, 2012)) but I would position them in a framework that is constructed around the recognition of the sentience of animals and therefore sees them as social actors rather than passive objects.
Within my perspective the focus is on ensuring the physical and mental well-being of the dog and recognizing that the interaction between dogs and humans can be central to both the achievement and destruction of this well-being. In this manner I would fit under Rudy’s (2011) definition of an ‘animal welfarist’. In this way I recognize that the lives and welfare of dogs (like all domesticated animals but more than most) and humans are closely intertwined and to speak only of or to one is to miss this crucial point. To me, this means that it is necessary to reject Rudy’s (2011: 9) assertion that animal welfare means ‘humans still hold all the power’. Yes, one may have more of one type of power than the other but this is not the same as saying dogs have no power of any kind. Even if humans do hold more power, from a welfarist standpoint the important point to note is that with this power (indeed power of any kind) comes the responsibility to wield this power appropriately; not for the benefit of those in power but rather for all (human and non-human). The core issue then is not power but responsibility and the responsible use of power. In this way I would suggest that Kiley-Worthington’s (1990) assertion that animal welfare is ultimately a matter of moral judgement is not entirely accurate. We may as humans be in a position of power where we can impose our moral values on animals, but welfare is about more than this, it is about being able and willing to listen to the animals and their needs, and bend our morality to meet their position rather than simply impose it on them. Looked at in one way, such a position suggests a lack
