See Inside
Looking for the roots of human morality in the animal kingdom? Focus on canines, who know how to play fair
By MARC BEKOFF and Jessica Pierce
|
March 19, 2010 |
CANINE CONDUCT: Could dogs's strong
sense of justice provide clues to the evolutionary roots of human
morality? Shown here is a 3-year-old labrador.
Image: istock
Every dog owner knows a pooch can learn the house rules—and when she
breaks one, her subsequent groveling is usually ingratiating enough to
ensure quick forgiveness. But few people have stopped to ask why dogs
have such a keen sense of right and wrong. Chimpanzees and other
nonhuman primates regularly make the news when researchers, logically
looking to our closest relatives for traits similar to our own, uncover
evidence of their instinct for fairness. But our work has suggested that
wild canine societies may be even better analogues for early hominid
groups—and when we study dogs, wolves and coyotes, we discover behaviors
that hint at the roots of human morality.
Morality, as we define it in our book
Wild Justice, is a
suite of interrelated other-regarding behaviors that cultivate and
regulate social interactions. These behaviors, including altruism,
tolerance, forgiveness, reciprocity and fairness, are readily evident in
the egalitarian way wolves and coyotes play with one another. Canids
(animals in the dog family) follow a strict code of conduct when they
play, which teaches pups the rules of social engagement that allow their
societies to succeed. Play also builds trusting relationships among
pack members, which enables divisions of labor, dominance hierarchies
and cooperation in hunting, raising young, and defending food and
territory. Because this social organization closely resembles that of
early humans
(as anthropologists and other experts believe it existed), studying
canid play may offer a glimpse of the moral code that allowed our
ancestral societies to grow and flourish.
Playing by the Rules
When canids and other animals play, they use actions such as vigorous
biting, mounting and body slamming that could be easily misinterpreted
by the participants. Years of painstaking video analyses by one of us
(Bekoff) and his students show, however, that individuals carefully
negotiate play, following four general rules to prevent play from
escalating into fighting.
Communicate clearly.
Animals
announce that they want to play and not fight or mate. Canids use a bow
to solicit play, crouching on their forelimbs while standing on their
hind legs (above). Bows are used almost exclusively during play and are
highly stereotyped—that is, they always look the same—so the message
“Come play with me” or “I still want to play” is clear. Even when an
individual follows a play bow with seemingly aggressive actions such as
baring teeth, growling or biting, his companions demonstrate submission
or avoidance only around 15 percent of the time, which suggests they
trust the bow’s message that whatever follows is meant in fun. Trust in
one another’s honest communication is vital for a smoothly functioning
social group.
Mind your manners. Animals consider their play partners’
abilities and engage in self-handicapping and role reversing to create
and maintain equal footing. For instance, a coyote might not bite her
play partner as hard as she can, handicapping herself to keep things
fair. And a dominant pack member might perform a role reversal, rolling
over on her back (a sign of submission that she would never offer during
real aggression) to let her lower-status play partner take a turn at
“winning”. Human children also behave this way when they play, for
instance, taking turns overpowering each other in a mock wrestling
match. [For more on childhood play, see “
The Serious Need for Play,” by Melinda Wenner;
Scientific American Mind,
February/March 2009.] By keeping things fair in this manner, every
member of the group can play with every other member, building bonds
that keep the group cohesive and strong.
Admit when you are wrong. Even when everyone wants to keep
things fair, play can sometimes get out of hand. When an animal
misbehaves or accidentally hurts his play partner, he apologizes—just
like a human would. After an intense bite, a bow sends the message,
“Sorry I bit you so hard—this is still play regardless of what I just
did. Don’t leave; I’ll play fair.” For play to continue, the other
individual must forgive the wrongdoing. And forgiveness is almost always
offered; understanding and tolerance are abundant during play as well
as in daily pack life.
Be honest. An apology, like an invitation to play, must be
sincere—individuals who continue to play unfairly or send dishonest
signals will quickly find themselves ostracized. This has far greater
consequences than simply reduced playtime; for instance, Bekoff’s
long-term field research shows that juvenile coyotes who do not play
fair often end up leaving their pack and are up to four times more
likely to die than those individuals who remain with others. Violating
social norms, established during play, is not good for perpetuating
one’s genes.
Fair play, then, can be understood as an evolved adaptation that
allows individuals to form and maintain social bonds. Canids, like
humans, form intricate networks of social relationships and live by
rules of conduct that maintain a stable society, which is necessary to
ensure the survival of each individual. Basic rules of fairness guide
social play, and similar rules are the foundation for fairness among
adults. This moral intelligence, so evident in both wild canines and in
domesticated dogs, probably closely resembles that of our early human
ancestors. And it may have been just this sense of right and wrong that
allowed human societies to flourish and spread across the world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR(S)
MARC BEKOFF is professor emeritus of ecology and evolutionary
biology at the University of Colorado at Boulder and a scholar in
residence at the Institute for Human-Animal Connection at the University
of Denver. JESSICA PIERCE is an ethicist and associate faculty at the
University of Colorado Health Sciences Center at the Center for
Bioethics and Humanities.
