Elephant in the Room
Last night, I saw a pretty good panel discussion at the UW called “Elephants Among Us.” It featured a director of research or something from the Woodland Park Zoo, a head organizer for the animal welfare organization, PAWS, an ethical philosopher from the University of Texas, and an expert in elephant behavior from the department of biology (or some such) at the University of Washington, all talking about various ethical issues related to the care, conservation, and management of pachyderms.
Each speaker brought something interesting to the discussion; the guy from the zoo was very practical and humble; the PAWS person passionate and committed; the philosopher did a good job of developing a philosophical conception of why elephants deserve our moral consideration; but the biologist blew everyone away with hard scientific data and real-world examples of elephant behavior in the wild, including fascinating information about how he can determine the animals’ stress levels by analyzing the chemical components of their dung.
And it made me wonder, as such experiences often do, whether my career choice—such as it was—to go into a field where arguments, rather than data, are the means by which points are made was the right decision.
As a kid, I loved biology class; had I not had such a lousy science education in high school, maybe I’d have ended up a botanist; but somewhere along the line, I got more interested in manipulating words than test tubes, and next thing you know, there I was, spending all day in a chair reading Hegel rather than wandering about in the woods clipping ferns.
I don’t regret it, but sometimes, philosophy does seem like such a luxury, and that’s when I fantasize about starting a bicycle-based small package delivery service or investing in a fleet of pedicabs or even going back to school to get a degree in forestry or something, something that would obviously make the world a better place for people, and elephants, too.
Each speaker brought something interesting to the discussion; the guy from the zoo was very practical and humble; the PAWS person passionate and committed; the philosopher did a good job of developing a philosophical conception of why elephants deserve our moral consideration; but the biologist blew everyone away with hard scientific data and real-world examples of elephant behavior in the wild, including fascinating information about how he can determine the animals’ stress levels by analyzing the chemical components of their dung.
And it made me wonder, as such experiences often do, whether my career choice—such as it was—to go into a field where arguments, rather than data, are the means by which points are made was the right decision.
As a kid, I loved biology class; had I not had such a lousy science education in high school, maybe I’d have ended up a botanist; but somewhere along the line, I got more interested in manipulating words than test tubes, and next thing you know, there I was, spending all day in a chair reading Hegel rather than wandering about in the woods clipping ferns.
I don’t regret it, but sometimes, philosophy does seem like such a luxury, and that’s when I fantasize about starting a bicycle-based small package delivery service or investing in a fleet of pedicabs or even going back to school to get a degree in forestry or something, something that would obviously make the world a better place for people, and elephants, too.
posted by Professor Dave at 9:22 AM
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