Steve's ideas remain a challenge to the legal profession, the animal-industrial complex, and to long-held cultural and institutional beliefs in human supremacism.
Please also read Steven M. Wise (1950-2024).
Photo: Martin Rowe, Steven Wise, and Patricia Denys at a talk in
Venice, California on June 30, 2018. (Mary Holmes/SynergyDogs Media)
It was an unfortunate serendipity that I received news about the
passing of Steven Wise as I was reading “Legal Personality for
Animals in India and Pakistan,” by Tariq Ahmad, posted by Taylor
Gulatsi on the Library of Congress’s blog page. The blog cited at
length the judgment of Athar Minallah, Chief Justice of the
Islamabad High Court in Pakistan, on the imprisonment of Kavaan,
dubbed “the world’s loneliest elephant,” who’d spent years chained
up and alone in “a small, barren enclosure at the Marghazar Zoo.”
Perhaps it was because I was thinking of Steven, or because his
ideas animated so much of my own thinking about animals, that the
blog’s quotations from Justice Minallah’s 67-page judgment felt so
resonant:
“Do the animals have legal rights?” Chief Justice Minallah asked
rhetorically. “The answer to this question, without any hesitation,
is in the affirmative.” He went on:
An animal undoubtedly is a sentient being. It has emotions and can feel pain or joy. By nature, each species has its own natural habitat. They require distinct facilities and environments for their behavioral, social, and physiological needs. This is how they have been created. It is unnatural for a lion to be kept in captivity in a restricted area. To separate an elephant from the herd and keep it in isolation is not what has been contemplated by nature. Like humans, animals also have natural rights which ought to be recognized. It is a right of each animal, a living being, to live in an environment that meets the latter’s behavioral, social, and physiological needs.
Steven spent many decades trying to persuade jurists and U.S. courts
that animals—particularly cetaceans, great apes, and
elephants—should be afforded legal standing. In his books (including
his most recent, Thing: Inside the Struggle for Animal Personhood)
and in the cases he brought to court, he and his team at NhRP
presented reams of evidence and many experts to demonstrate what
Justice Minallah (and most other human beings) have no doubt about:
that animals display emotions, feel pain or joy, and possess
“natural rights which ought to be recognized.” His cases focused on
social creatures whose isolation in “unnatural” settings—whether in
zoos, aquaria, or cages—over many years could speak to the heart (as
well as the head) of the human social creatures who sat in judgment
over them.
Kavaan was released in November 2020, when local and international
activists, including the performer Cher, enabled him to be removed
to the Elephant Nature Park in Siem Reap, Cambodia. Happy the
elephant, one of Steven’s last cases, was less fortunate: she still
lives alone at the Bronx Zoo. Her case and others NhRP has
prosecuted have resulted in several valuable dissents, but in every
case so far the majority of judges have either found themselves
hamstrung by legal precedent, bound to the inherent anthropocentrism
of U.S. law, or committed to the animals’ current status as property
under the law.
Steven protested that the arguments NhRP made on behalf of animals
were in the service of those particular animals. Yet, I suspect that
underlying the resistance by the courts lay the concern that if they
determined that one elephant was being held against her will, then
that judgment might apply to other elephants in zoos and circuses.
And if the judgment was based on recognizable expressions of
preferences or zoochoses in an elephant, then might that not apply
to other large animals in zoos or aquaria, or to pigs in sow stalls
or calves in veal crates, or chickens in battery cages? Surely such
thinking was the reason why the Alliance of Marine Mammals and
Aquariums and Protect the Harvest (“a non-profit organization . . .
created to defend and preserve American freedoms and to support
farmers, ranchers, outdoor enthusiasts, and animal owners”)
submitted an amici curiae on behalf of the Wildlife Conservation
Society. It certainly seemed self-evident to them that once you
granted that an animal was not a thing but a nonhuman person, with
intrinsic rights that could not be abrogated, the entire
animal-industrial complex would be under threat.
I was reading the LOC blog for a forthcoming paper from Brighter
Green comparing and contrasting the movement for the rights of
Nature with that for animal rights. Justice Minallah’s opinion is
one of dozens of similar judgments from jurisdictions around the
world. Many draw from rights of Nature language enshrined in some
countries’ constitutions (particularly in Latin America), where
Western legal structures have been influenced by Indigenous
cosmologies that view humans and wild animals through less
hierarchical and anthropocentric lenses. The paper suggests that it
may ultimately not be nonhuman legal personhood that marks animals’
best immediate hope for their interests to be honored in a court of
law; instead, it may be through rights of Nature provisions that
extend rights-bearing entities beyond the human or animal to
ecosystems themselves.
There are, as any animal rights advocate would tell you, many
problems with such an approach. Some wild animals may be protected;
but what about farmed animals, or so-called invasive species, or
wild animals whom Indigenous peoples traditionally hunt or eat? If
they are considered “unnatural,” or are de-natured in order to
become edible, or are consumable if they are sacramentalized, then
under what statutes will their rights be considered? That said, the
many examples where individual animals gain legal rights through
rights of Nature provisions (such as the famous case of Estrellita,
the woolly monkey from Ecuador) offer a reason to be cautiously
optimistic. As Peruvian legal scholar Marcia Condoy Truyenque
observes in a June 2023 law review article on Estrellita: “To
recognize animals as legal subjects and rights-holders is powerful
as a political declaration that can lead to the recognition of
animal rights by their own value, independently from the Rights of
Nature framework.” I think Steven would have welcomed that.
I only met Steven on a few occasions, and each time I found him
personable and engaging. Like many radical thinkers—including Tom
Regan, the co-founder of this organization—his ideas remain a
challenge to the legal profession, the animal-industrial complex,
and to long-held cultural and institutional beliefs in human
supremacism. Like Tom, Steven did not live to see his hoped-for
outcome. Yet, due at least in part to his dogged commitment, animal
law is burgeoning, attracting young talent from around the world.
And also due in part to Steven, so is animal rights law. Because of
him, and countless others who are continuing the vital work of
representing animals’ interests, in spite of the many barriers
outlined above, it’s surely only a matter of time before animals
have their day in court—even in the United States—and widen the
cracks in the edifice of animal exploitation.