Anthropocentrism, anthropomorphism, speciesism: Beware of confusion!

Anthropocentrism—understood as the preference given to humans in a world they are free to exploit as they see fit—tends to clash with a concept that has become increasingly prevalent in recent years: speciesism. Philosopher François Jaquet recently highlighted the risk of confusion between the two terms. It is, in fact, imperative to distinguish between them. This is possible if we assume that anthropocentrism is a cognitive bias, whereas speciesism is a societal project.

Forms of Anthropocentrism

Anthropocentrism is a concept that, although frequently used, is not easily defined. Dictionary definitions are vague, but generally agree that it refers to the human tendency to view themselves as the center of the universe. It is therefore a way of relating to the world in which humans judge everything in relation to themselves, paying attention to and valuing only what is of interest to them. In fact, scholarly discourse today tends to condemn anthropocentrism because of its finalism—that is, the inclination to perceive nature as a resource to be shamelessly exploited, with humans as its primary beneficiaries; or, at the very least, humans—by virtue of their exceptional nature—have more rights to nature than any other living being. This negative view of anthropocentrism is partly challenged by certain contributions from anthropology . For example, Philippe Descola’s work on the Achuar of the Ecuadorian Amazon shows that while they do view the world through an anthropocentric lens, in this case it is an integrative form of anthropocentrism. The Achuar, in fact, other species as human beings in another form; their morphology differs, but not their inner nature. Humans nonetheless remain the most fully realized form of life, the only “complete persons” (penke aents ) in that their form corresponds to their essence. This does not imply that some lives are more valuable than others: the tendency to see humanity everywhere protects the Achuar from this fallacy.  

From Kinship to the Separation of Humans and Animals

History highlights the fact that our relationship with animals is by no means fixed. Stephen Newmyer has shown that classical Greece, beginning in the 5th century BCE, significantly altered the Western view of the rest of the living world. It was during this period that the human/animal divide became established and the very concept of “animal” was forged. Greek thought then established a correlation between reason and articulate language (the Greek word *logos* refers to both of these realities), which amounted to reserving it for a single species and affirming its uniqueness. Christianity subsequently took this line of thought further. Before that, in pre-Socratic Greece, the idea of kinship with the rest of the animal world prevailed. Empedocles denounced meat consumption as patricide and anthropophagy. Differences were seen primarily as morphological in nature: Xenophanes of Colophon wrote that if oxen or lions had hands, they too would paint and depict the gods in their own image. The poet Aesop goes even further: if they had hands, lions would sculpt statues highlighting their power… at the expense of humans. In short: for the pre-Socratics, the inner nature of animals bears a striking resemblance to that of humans, and humans are simply better equipped, morphologically speaking, to express their fantasies.  

Anthropocentrism as a Cognitive Bias

How can we reconcile these seemingly contradictory approaches to anthropocentrism? By drawing on what cognitive science teaches us. The work of psychologists Daniel Kahneman and Olivier Houdé, in particular, has highlighted the importance of cognitive biases in human psychological functioning. In fact, these biases are what govern most of our decisions. They are simplifying strategies the brain uses to gather and interpret information from our environment—mental shortcuts designed to help us adapt quickly to a given situation. It is likely that anthropocentrism is one of these many biases. When perceiving their environment, humans spontaneously tend to refocus on what they know best—themselves—and to project this onto the external world. In short, this is a response to limited cognitive resources. This dual process (refocusing/projection) is similar to the one that occurs in human interactions when analyzing the behaviors and intentions of others.  

An automatic way of thinking shaped by evolution

What is certain is that, in the course of evolution, the human species had to carve out a place for itself in nature, coping for hundreds of thousands of years with a hostile environment where access to resources was risky, limited, and unpredictable. During the Neolithic period, at the end of the last ice age, humans domesticated certain species. In both cases, humans had to attempt to understand the inner lives of other beings, anticipate their reactions, and learn to coexist with them. It was therefore as early as prehistory—a time when the divide between humans and other animals was far less pronounced than it is today—that the recognition of similar inner lives (sharing intelligence, emotions, feelings, a will to live, etc.) fostered the emergence of that form of automatic thinking known as anthropocentrism. It is by drawing on the fact that the human brain has been shaped by the long process of evolution that we can propose a renewed definition of anthropocentrism and hypothesize that it is a cognitive bias. This bias is fueled by another inclination: the drive toward solidarity with one’s fellow human beings—those in whom we recognize our own reflection—which facilitates identification. Charles Darwin had already emphasized that the survival of a species depends on mutual aid within the group. The tendency to take oneself as a reference point and to love those closest to us gives anthropocentrism—a product of evolution—a biological nature, since it is inherent in the functioning of the human brain. This makes it a spontaneous way of understanding the world that cannot truly be avoided. The challenge, in fact, lies in becoming aware of this cognitive bias in order to learn to think against one’s own instincts—all the more so when anthropocentrism leads us to view ourselves as the most perfect form of life.  

Anthropocentrism, Anthropomorphism, and Speciesism

How can we reconcile this conception of anthropocentrism with anthropomorphism (which is usually contrasted with it) and the more recent concept of speciesism? The question of anthropomorphism is the simplest. It is generally understood as the tendency to attribute human forms or characteristics to other beings (gods, animals, plants, etc.). Two Austrian biologists, Esmeralda G. Urquiza-Haas and Kurt Kotrschal, have used brain imaging to link it to cognitive mechanisms and have closely tied it to evolution. Anthropomorphism thus helps us decipher the behavior and intentions of other living beings, which we assume—precisely because they are alive—possess intentionality. Once again, this is a rapid and unconscious process, and therefore one that emerged early in the human brain. It should be viewed as a tool of anthropocentrism (used in the dual process of refocusing and projection mentioned earlier). And since anthropomorphism is related to how the brain functions, it is entirely possible to imagine—as the ethologist Cédric Sueur does, for example—a “cynomorphism” for dogs or a “macacomorphism” for macaques. As for speciesism—a term popularized by Peter Singer that condemns the tendency to assign different values or rights to beings based on their species— it is a radicalized form of anthropocentrism, a variation in the same vein as racism is in relation to ethnocentrism. Far from being merely a spontaneous thought process, it is part of a societal project and is accompanied by essentialist discourse and value judgments. It is no longer merely a matter of favoring those who are similar in the name of intuitive solidarity, but of erecting boundaries. Hence the imperative to construct a narrative about humans and other species in order to legitimize the exploitation of the latter. Anthropomorphism remains a staple of speciesism, but this time to signify withdrawal—to analyze other animals in terms of absence, based on a presumed ideal of life. For example, we look for intelligence in them without considering the many forms it can take—forms that are far from all being comparable to human intelligence, which itself can be expressed in various ways (we distinguish, for example, between logical-mathematical, emotional, kinesthetic, musical, etc.).  

Questioning Human Exceptionalism

De-anthropomorphizing the concepts through which we understand animals—a task undertaken, for example, by historian Éric Baratay —is, in this context, a way to avoid jumping to conclusions about human exceptionalism. Rather, the goal is to make a more accurate assessment of the differences, as well as what is identical, close, or similar between humans and other species. This is a way to escape what Frans de Waal has called “anthropodeny .” In any case, while anthropocentrism is a cognitive bias that can be assumed to be a biological invariant (in that a similar phenomenon could exist in every species), speciesism constitutes a cultural variation—in short, a civilizational choice. Philippe Le Doze , Senior Lecturer (HDR) in Ancient History, University of Rennes 2 This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.