Planet of the Apes and Philosophy (13 page)

Yet, nothing else really changes. The rest of the apes on Earth presumably continue to be treated in exactly the same manner as they were before. They're kept in cages in zoos, experimented on in labs and some are killed to provide heart transplants for humans. But, and here's the point,
if
the moral status of a being is determined by what is
normal
for its species, then there would be nothing morally wrong with treating Zira and Cornelius in exactly the same way that all of the other apes on Earth were treated. Surely it would be absurd to think that it would be morally permissible to keep Zira and Cornelius in a zoo or, even worse, keep them in a cage in a lab to experiment on them. But, if we accept the idea that the moral weight of interests depends on what is
normal
for the species, then there would be nothing wrong with treating Zira and Cornelius in this way. Since the sophisticated version of the argument leads to this absurdity, we should reject it in addition to the crude version.

The principle of equal consideration of interests, on the other hand, can explain why it would be morally wrong to treat Dr. Zira and Dr. Cornelius like other apes. These two are unlike any other member of their species (in the 1970s) and have the same interests as humans of normal cognitive capacity. Giving equal weight to all like interests requires treating Dr. Zira and Dr. Cornelius in the same way that we treat normal humans, not normal apes.

At this point you might be saying to yourself, “Of course I would treat apes who are as intelligent as humans as moral equals. That's obviously the way it should be. But the fact of the matter is that apes (and any non-human animals) on Earth are all dumber than humans. That's why all humans are more important than non-human animals and that's why we're justified in treating them the way we do.”

You're right to say that no super-intelligent apes actually exist on Earth. Too bad too because it would be awesome if they did! Nevertheless, it does not follow that it is morally permissible to discount existing ape interests. There is a fair amount of overlap in the intellectual capabilities among humans and
non-human animals. Humans with severe cognitive disabilities have a lower cognitive capacity than many non-human animals. In fact, there have been many cases of anencephalic babies, which are humans who lack the ability to be conscious. They have an IQ of 0. Baby Theresa is one example. She was born with only a brain stem (and no brain) and died after nine days of life. More commonly, humans are born with an IQ that falls below 70 (the threshold for being considered cognitively disabled) and many within that category have an IQ that falls below 20 (which is the threshold for being considered severely cognitively disabled). This means that for any non-human animal that ever existed, exists or will exist, there has been a human who was of equal or lower cognitive capacity than the non-human animal in question. If we grant that a super intelligent ape like Dr. Zira would be just as morally important as a human of the same cognitive capacity (such as Dr. Branton), then we should likewise grant that an ape of normal ape cognitive capacity is just as morally important as a cognitively disabled human of equal intelligence.

This may seem obvious, but here's the problem. Most people would find it morally repugnant to treat any of these severely cognitively disabled humans in the same way that we treat the vast majority of non-human animals who have the same (if not a higher) cognitive capacity. It's often said that the non-human animals' lower cognitive capacity justifies humans bringing them into existence (through artificial insemination) to live a life of constant suffering in a factory farm before being slaughtered for food.

Since species membership is not a morally relevant factor, this justification for treating non-human animals the way we do implies that it would likewise be justified to treat cognitively disabled humans in the same way. But surely it's absurd to think that it would be morally permissible to keep cognitively disabled humans confined in tiny cages for their entire lives and then kill them and eat them because we enjoy the taste of their flesh. It is sick. Likewise, the overwhelming majority of people think it would be morally impermissible to subject cognitively disabled humans to painful medical experiments. This would especially be true if the experiments were for a new cosmetic product or some other superfluous item with countless safe versions already on the market.

Holding that

       
1.
    
It's wrong to treat severely cognitively disabled humans like this

And that

       
2.
    
Species membership is not a morally relevant factor

forces us to the conclusion that

       
3.
    
It's likewise morally wrong to treat non-human animals in this way.

I accept 1. as an obvious moral truth and do not feel the need to argue for it. I have argued for the truth of 2. Rejecting 2. leads to absurd conclusions and problems that I have been raising throughout this chapter. Anyone who, like me, accepts both 1. and 2., must, so as not to contradict themselves, accept the truth of 3. as well.

You might be thinking to yourself something like the following. “Sure, there are a few interesting examples of anti-speciesist attitudes in the original
Planet of the Apes
film, but that's an implicitly assumed and minor point in the overall movie series.” In reply, it's worth noting how important and pervasive the anti-speciesist assumptions in the movie series really are. In pretty much every film, these anti-speciesist assumptions explain not only the characters' actions, but also who we root for. Thus, speciesism actually plays a crucial role in the entire series.

Dr. Zira and Dr. Cornelius are repeat human defenders, not only in the original movie, but in the sequel,
Beneath the Planet of the Apes
, and in the short-lived animated series. Their motivation for breaking with the status quo seems to be triggered by discovering that humans can speak, as in the original movie. In the animated series, Zira and Cornelius help Bill, a
human astronaut, but instead of thanking them, Bill asks why they are helping him. Their answer? “We're not really sure, but somehow I felt that killing you would be wrong” (see the episode “Escape from Ape City”). Then, in Tim Burton's film, the ape Ari seems always to have believed that humans were as intelligent (or as morally important) as apes. She zeroes in on Captain Leo Davidson, played by Mark Wahlberg, to make her case.

Is it possible that we're just rooting for the anti-speciesist attitudes when we want an ape to care about some human? I don't think so. In several movies of the series, super-intelligent apes are the minority among humans, and the humans come to fight for the apes' cause. Take Armando, in
Escape
, who adopts baby Milo (later Caesar), and in
Conquest
treats him as a moral equal, even putting his own life on the line to save him. Mercifully, he never makes Caesar wear bell-bottoms. If that's not an act of kindness, I don't know what is.

In the latest (and dare I say best?) movie in the series,
Rise of the Planet of the Apes
, James Franco (a.k.a. Dr. William Rodman) also employs inter-species adoption. Rodman comes to see Caesar not as a pet but as a member of his family, as Caesar's intellectual capabilities increase and exceed those of humans his own age. In the San Bruno Primate Shelter, more appropriately understood as the San Bruno Hellhole for Primates, we find a villain, shelter owner John Landon, who doesn't get the whole “equal consideration of interests” thing. Like Dr. Zaius, Landon wants to defend the status quo of species segregation because he benefits from being at the top of the hierarchy, one of whose perks is to subjugate and mistreat “lower” primates.

If we really thought there was nothing morally wrong with speciesism, then we could not rationally endorse Caesar's uprising against human domination in either
Conquest of the Planet of the Apes
or
Rise of the Planet of the Apes
. We could think that there is nothing wrong with the way the apes were treated in the lab in
Rise of the Planet of the Apes
and should have no problem using the apes for slave labor in
Conquest of the Planet of the Apes
. Basically, rejecting speciesist attitudes would require rooting for the bad guys in the film series instead of the good guys.

At this point, you might want to say “Okay, Travis, you've made some interesting arguments about why speciesism is bad, but aren't you forgetting that God created the world with humans at the top?” Maybe your idea is that one species is more morally important because God gave them special rights. John Locke's
Essays on the Laws of Nature
is often cited as one argument for God-given rights grounded in the will of a superior authority. While Locke spoke of rights in terms of humans and human nature, he did argue in
Some Thoughts Concerning Education
that it would be morally wrong to treat non-human animals in an unnecessarily cruel way. Although many people still believe that rights depend upon God's will in some way, the majority of philosophers, both religious and secular, reject the idea of God-given rights. We'll see why shortly.

Let's begin by looking at an analogous case in
Planet of the Apes
. Dr. Zaius is a believer in God-given ape rights, appealing to their existence to justify his discrimination against humans. Now, the viewer is not expected to be convinced by this claim because, in the movie, the apes' religion is supposed to be nothing more than a myth. The broader lesson that we ought to draw from this is that in order to make the case that God-given rights exist, the burden of proof is on the believer to demonstrate:

       
1.
    
that the deity in question actually exists,

       
2.
    
that it commanded or willed that one species is more morally important than another,

and

       
3.
    
that the moral importance of creatures depends upon this deity's commands or will.

This can be difficult to do for any religion, imaginary or not. Fortunately, we can sidestep the issues of God's existence by considering a point first made two and a half thousand years ago by Plato.

Appearing in the sky, God bellows “Any human interest is more important than any ape interest! Also, the Tim Burton
Planet of the Apes
is by far the worst in the series. Seriously, I am omniscient, but even I didn't see that train wreck coming from an otherwise talented filmmaker.” In light of this revelation from God, we can ask
why
all human interests are more important than ape interests. Either . . .

       
1.
    
Human interests are of greater moral importance
because
God says they are

or

       
2.
    
God says that human interests are more important than ape interests
because
of some other fact independent of God's will.

Here's the problem. If it is option 1, then moral importance seems to be the product of an arbitrary choice by God—He could just as easily have said ape interests, or shrimp interests, etc. were of greater moral importance. Each of these hypothetical moral rules seems obviously false and most people do not want the moral rules they accept to be ones that were arbitrarily selected.

Some theists might protest, arguing that their “God is perfectly, morally wise (indeed, omniscient) and anything He says about a groups' moral importance, He says for good reason.” Fair enough. But if God says human interests take precedence over ape interests, then this would be because all humans have some morally relevant properties that all apes lack. Alternatively, if God endorses the principle of equal consideration of interests, this would be because He has some independent reason to do so. Whichever view is correct, we can cut straight to the chase and look to the reasons for the view. It is these reasons, not God's say-so, that make a given view right.

In 1729, Jonathan Swift's
A Modest Proposal
was published. In one of the greatest pieces of satire ever written (think of it as an
Onion
article from the eighteenth century), Swift proposes
that the problem of poverty and overpopulation could be solved by having poor adults eat their own children. Swift was happy to point out that

           
a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled; and . . . will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.

The readers, as they were supposed to, found Swift's so-called “modest proposal” horrifying. Hopefully it didn't make anyone hungry. It was clear to Swift's audience that any benefit that would result from eating poor Irish children was far less important than saving the children from undue suffering or harm. A similar satirical piece could be written using non-human animals, such as infant apes, instead of infant humans. If species membership is not morally relevant, we should find the idea of sacrificing stronger ape interests to satisfy weaker human interests horrifying for the same reasons.