Jessica Pierce, PhD
May 2018
The peril and promise of a "sensory approach" to animal welfare... Unfortunately, we can “take care” of animals—attending to their biological needs—without really “caring” about them.

Source: Charles J. Danoff/Flickr
All animals, human and nonhuman alike, experience the world through the
perceptive lens of their senses: seeing, hearing, touching, and smelling.
But we humans often fail to take in just how different the sensory
experiences of other animals are from our own. We tend to be human-centered
in our thinking—and who can blame us? But in our interactions with other
animals, we can increase our understanding and empathy if we learn to think
imaginatively, going beyond our human experiences to get inside the sensory
worlds of other creatures. This imaginative work forms the groundwork for an
ethics of human-animal relationships. It also has important practical
implications for how we take care of the animals around us.
One of the core tenets of the modern animal welfare movement is that
providing appropriate care to animals we hold captive involves trying to
“see” the environments we provide from the animals’ point of view, as much
as this is possible. In other words, we need to attend to sensory worlds
which are different from our own. Applying this in the realm of companion
animals, for example, we may not think much about high-pitched sounds made
by our home appliances, simply because we cannot hear them. But our dogs
can, as can our cats. And these noises may be a source of stress.
A new review article in Applied Animal Behaviour Science, by Birte
Nielsen, argues that our handling and housing of animals still often fails
to take into consideration the unique sensory modalities of animals and that
many animals, as a result, are suffering. In "Making Sense of it all: the
importance of taking into account the sensory abilities of animals in their
housing and management," Nielsen focuses particularly on animals who humans
“manage” (which is a nice way of referring to animals we hold in captivity
and use for human “benefits” such as food production and research data
points). This isn’t revolutionary. Scientists have been studying the sensory
modalities of other animal species for centuries. But directly asking how we
can and ought to take these senses into account in our interactions with
animals is an approach that deserves more attention.
Indeed, the “sensory approach” is exactly the one Marc Bekoff and I chose to
use in our most recent book (Unleashing the Dog: A Field Guide to Freedom,
which will be published by New World Library in 2019). We explore how dogs
experience the world through smell, sight, hearing, taste, and touch and
help readers understand how dogs’ sensory worlds overlap with our own, but
also extend beyond ours. In particular, we explore what a sensory approach
means for dog owners who want to increase the level of freedom and happiness
experienced by their companions, by letting dogs really be dogs. How can we
use our knowledge of the dogs’ sensory world to make their lives better?
What I found particularly valuable about Nielsen’s review is how she brings
into focus (without meaning to, I’m sure) the difference between using what
we know about animal senses to pursue our own ends, and using this knowledge
in the service of animals themselves. The sensory approach can be a way to
empathize with animals and more clearly understand their needs (which is
what Dr. Bekoff and I at least try to accomplish); it can also become a tool
used to refine human exploitations and manipulations of other animals.
Most of the examples presented by Nielsen show a sensory approach being
applied in the service of human industry.
As Nielsen notes, we can manipulate animal sensory capabilities to produce
behaviors that we find useful or desirable. For example, Temple Grandin’s
work capitalizes on the sensory world of animals in food production systems
to make these systems more efficient. Her design of curved chutes in
slaughterhouses builds upon the sensory experiences of cattle, subtly
shifting the environment of the CAFO so that it is more “cow friendly.”
Grandin exploits the visual field: in the curved chute, the cattle can see
ahead a little, but not far enough that they get scared, as they do in
straight chutes where their “future” lies clearly in wait for them. By
having enough light to ensure that there are no shadows and by eliminating
novel objects from their visual trajectory, we convince the animals to move
forward with less fear and resistance. This may be a welfare improvement
because the cows experience slightly lower levels of stress. It is also a
cruel exploitation of cow’s sensory world, making them less resistant to our
manipulation and allowing production to proceed at a more efficient pace so
that more cattle can be killed more quickly.
Captive settings such as zoos, research labs, and CAFOs are unnatural and
uninteresting, so that the sensory capacities of animals are simply unused
and sensory needs go unmet. If we can find a way to meet a greater range of
the animals’ sensory needs, we can thus offer improvements to their
“management” and “handling.” (I put these words in scare quotes because they
are euphemisms for “doing things that impose suffering on sentient beings.”)
A “touch” example comes from farmed mink. Many minks bred for and living on
fur farms display stereotypic behaviors, such as pacing back and forth and
other repetitive non-purposeful movement. They are often housed alone, in
small, barren cages, and this is thought to at least partly explain their
poor welfare. Researchers examined whether doubling the cage size would
reduce stereotypies. It had no detectable positive effect. Researchers
subsequently experimented with providing each mink a hollow cardboard
tube—allowing him or her the security of hiding in a narrow space. This
adjustment led to fewer observed stereotypic behaviors and greater activity
levels and, it was assumed, somewhat better (or at least less compromised)
welfare. This kind of intervention is often referred to in the welfare
literature as an “enrichment.” The more enrichments we can provide animals
in our care, the more we can engage their senses, the better.
On the other hand, many captive settings compromise animal welfare by
overstimulating one or another sensory system. Animals suffer from sensory
overload, particularly overload from sensory stimuli that are intrusive and
unnatural, where meaningful auditory stimuli are drowned out by noise. As an
example, Birte notes noise levels on pig farms can be as high as 110
decibels. This is equivalent to the noise of a jackhammer. Not surprisingly,
noise disrupts the feeding behavior of piglets, because they cannot hear the
vocalizations of their mother. In the same way, the olfactory system of
animals can be overwhelmed in captive environments by strong and
ever-present aversive smells, such as the ammonia stench from a densely
packed room full of chickens. Under the onslaught of excessive olfactory
“noise,” important olfactory information is often lost. Crucial olfactory
information is made unavailable to animals in other ways, too. In rodent
labs, for instance, the frequent cleaning of cages removes olfactory cues
that male mice provide each other through their urine. The removal of this
socially important information can lead to social disruptions within the
group, provoking unnatural levels of aggression between the males (adding
another source of stress for the animals)
As you will notice, each of the above-mentioned examples are “welfarist,”
offering slight improvements within a setting or system that imposes
profound challenges. These are all incremental improvements that help us
feel better, but don’t actually do all that much for the animals, who would
likely rather be removed from these challenging settings altogether. We can
“take care” of animals—attending to their biological needs—without really
“caring” about them. (Marc Bekoff and I explore welfarism and caring for
animals in our 2017 book The Animals' Agenda: Freedom, Compassion and
Coexistence in the Age of Humanity, Beacon Press.)
Reference
Birte L. Nielsen (2018). Making sense of it all: The importance of taking into account the sensory abilities of animals in their housing and management. Applied Animal Behaviour Science (in press).