Philosophers have a curious attitude towards ideas. Try it for yourself: Throw an idea out there and have a bunch of philosophers present. Quite likely, they‘ll orient towards its traces in history. Next, they might slowly move, I want to say “stalk”, and try some arguments in favour or against it, and if you only engage them smartly enough - pro-tip: don‘t move too erratically; unlike dogs, philosophers do not consider that sexy -, they‘ll go to chase the idea and its proponents.
While anybody knows that the chase is the most rewarding part of any pursuit, most philosophers don‘t stop there. They go on to grab, hold, and if taking ownership of an idea wasn‘t dispiriting enough, they often dissect it to pieces, guard and consume it, and ensure that only its digested remains with the philosopher’s original scent marks are made publicly available - and should you ever dare coming near it again, you will be disciplined.
Okay, perhaps that’s too harsh. But perhaps you know that feeling, the rush of dopamine, you think you‘ve got it, the truth, the insight, the solution to a puzzle, a great idea - it‘s right there, in front of you, you just need to grasp it, put it into words to share and spread it … - alas, what happens is: other thinkers. It‘s not your idea, it is somebody else’s, it needs to be reviewed, immobilised, neutralised. The endless rounds of delayed gratification of seeing an idea come to life, like real life, and the quintessential anhedonia of academia can be quite overwhelming.
Now, if you are interested in philosophy going wild, you are free from all of that. You can, essentially, run wild with any idea! And yet, how do you ensure that the ideas survive in the wild - that, out of context, ideas don’t change their nature or even turn against themselves and become foolish fads?
I worry about this because we are launching the project “Philosophy in the Wild: Finding Hope in Mixed Communities” this week and it relies on an idea that was once captured by Mary Midgley: the ‘mixed community’. This idea or concept has been confined to Midgley circles mostly. Yet now, it will be released back into the wild.
Midgley used the ‘mixed community’ to stress that biologically modern humans have never lived independently from other animals. It is linked to her animal ethics, which emphasises context and using multiple normative criteria, not just rights or virtues or wellbeing. But the concept is largely descriptive; it serves as a reminder that humans are not only animals themselves, but that they always lived in community with other animals. Think domesticated animals and where we would be without them (for better or worse). The main point Midgley seems to make: If you care about other animals, then any normative approach that relies heavily on the dissolution of human-animal-relations needs to work with the long and often deeply paradoxical histories of these communities.
Currently, in particular wild living animals are suffering enormously under human domination. And while humans can (and should) stop bringing domesticated animals into existence, wild living animals are not (supposed to be) going anywhere. Perhaps, then, the ‘mixed community’ idea can help us improve the relations humans have with them.
Just as there are some relations humans have with domesticated animals that seem to be mutually beneficial and non-exploitative - relations in which humans get to develop their biophilic capacities and recognise that the species boundary is not the same as that of their respective community - similar relations with wild living animals may be possible. Biological mutualism comes to mind. Or reparations humans are increasingly willing to deliver for wild animals who have suffered from historical injustice. And futuristic explorations, with humans using the arts and technology to communicate better with wild living animals.
So far, so good. What could possibly happen to that idea if it was (re-)introduced to the wild? Two things:
It could hybridise in no time, meaning the concept could be applied so widely as to lose useful boundaries, perhaps similarly to what has happened to ‘sustainability’ - a ubiquitous but infertile idea.
It could end up sick and ill-adapted or get hit by a car, meaning looking for mixed communities with wild living animals might just fail to make us hopeful because these animals stand no chance at leading wild, flourishing lives in a world dominated by human activity.
Let’s start there. Hope. In human-animal-relations. You might wonder. Though Midgley suggests that domestication is not the price animals have to pay for mixed community membership, she mainly talks about domesticated animals. Everyone knows that the care and husbandry for these animals are shot through with violence. Captivity. Mental and physical manipulation. Neglect. Outright abuse. Not really the thing with feathers. For “Philosophy in the Wild”, we are going to hear from a number of rewilding sites. ‘Rewilding’ is a popular concept in itself. It involves so much more than letting “nature take care of itself”. Humans feature as proactive and decisive facilitators in, and caretakers of, these sites. If you have ever tried to teach another animal to do what you want, say walk nicely on a lead, then think about what must be involved in teaching a wild bird to do what s/he should want, say fly. Rewilding can also go awfully wrong. Hence, in mapping mixed communities with wild living animals, we will need to watch out for the dark sides of care and for wild living animals coming too close to humans for their own good. While overbearing control would be a clear sign of the idea of a mixed community being at serious risk of resulting more in a hopeless scramble, I am still expecting to be inspired by humans appreciating wild neighbours, learning from them and helping them out just because they recognise them as true fellows.
Secondly, celebrations of mixed communities with wild living animals must not to turn into a fad. Just as the sustainability talk has led to little more than greenwashing, this mustn‘t become some kind of wildwashing or wildly wishful thinking. Midgley stressed that all animals with whom humans formed communities were socially organised (mammals). Because these animals cared about similar things as humans, were able to understand humans and form bonds with them (even if exploitative), the communities worked (again, for better or worse, mostly other animals got a bad deal). This template poses a challenge for the many animals who care about really very different things and do not (care to) understand humans. “Philosophy in the Wild” is going to cover truly amazing examples, of dolphins developing sign language to communicate with us sonar/tone-deaf primates, or of street dogs clarifying what it is exactly that they want instead of being treated like “dumb pets” who don‘t know what is good for them. That‘s all promising. But we must remain mindful to really see the other animals for who they are - and accept when there is little base for communal understanding, even if that would only concern norms of multispecies diplomacy.
For instance, I am not sure that (even social) insects care much about us and what we want. Of course, I should care to avoid stepping on them if I can, perhaps even build them “hotels”, offer help when needed etc. Midgley’s distinction between social and ecological claims could be useful here. And yet, when it comes to policing mixed communities, the fate of social animals where mutual understanding comes more naturally, as with wolves, possums or pigeons, seems more significant.
As a species, we must learn to think at more-than-human timescales and consider that, pretty much anywhere out of Africa, it is us who are the invaders. Hence, a humbler attitude and realising that others don‘t have to be ‘one of us’ - even in the wider, non-anthropocentric way - to matter might suit us well.
Anyway. We are still throwing the idea out there - here and here. Perhaps it is just the extent to which philosophers can agree with the world that determines the scope of any concept (as they understand and accept it). Philosophers are not much of an agreeable breed, but I feel it would serve everybody well to have more live ideas out in the wild, to inspire humans to evolve and adapt in an ever changing world. And so I am extra glad that “Philosophy in the Wild” is supported by an astonishing number of thinkers - philosophers, other scholars, artists (intros to follow over the next weeks and months) - who know its core concept‘s DNA well, are generally happy to step in and provide guidance, but overall don‘t grab and hold onto, but release.