July 1, 2021: It has come to our attention that this blog post is being misused on Twitter to justify animal abuse.
Please see the official statement from the author that is available here.
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Can Animals Consent?By Sarah Schlote
This interesting question, which came out of a post I shared on Facebook (here and here) about a yoga on horseback video that went viral recently, elicits differing opinions. Some claim that consent is a human construct linked to morality, and therefore cannot apply to animals philosophically or legally (calling it anthropomorphism). Others claim that since all mammals share a similar neurobiology, responses to safety, danger and life threat, experience emotions, are sentient and perceptive — and that since both human and non-human animals can express “yes” and “no”, aversion, attraction, fight, flee, freeze, fawn, collapse, submit, and make informed choices — they can indeed “consent” or not (in their own way). This second group suggests that to deny animals the ability to consent is anthropocentric and can be a way to justify the exploitation of non-human animals for the benefit of people.
This article certainly will not resolve this debate, and its goal is not to malign or shame any particular horsemanship discipline, method, or equine-assisted intervention approach. Rather, I hope to invite curiosity and offer a different lens in a spirit of gentle openness and non-judgment about ideas that, while controversial, are nonetheless important to reflect upon.
The word consent means to permit or allow. Barbara Rector, one of the pioneers in the field of equine-assisted practice, understood the notion of consent in relationship with horses. Her exercise, Con Su Permiso, which means “with your permission” in Spanish, speaks to the idea that animals can communicate consent or permission through their body language and that healthy relationships are built on a foundation of mutual respect. Words are not the only way to express when something is a “no” or a “yes”, and Barbara is not the only person championing the idea that horses (and, indeed, mammals in general) can express permission or objection through their body language, of course. But, even so, this idea is not consistently applied in the field of animal or equine-assisted interventions.
A common statement heard in the industry is that the horses are always free to move away if they ultimately do not want to take part in something. However, what is the interpretation if they do not move away? Is it always because they are choosing to stay willingly and without coercion? One might not move away but show other signs of “not wanting to be involved” that are often missed or dismissed. Does that mean that someone (human or animal) who goes into submission, freeze, or collapse in the face of something they don’t want to do or experience is consenting? Shutting down technically is “allowing” something to happen on some level, but only because the other options (fighting back, fleeing) might not be possible or might lead to greater harm, punishment, pain or death. Equating “going along with” to “consent” is a very murky and dangerous proposition. There’s a distinction between being in the lower parts of one’s brain, dominated by survival physiology and reacting out of self-protection (instinctual), and being integrated and able to express conscious choice freely from one’s neocortex, when regulated and connected to self and other. And even this is not a clean dichotomy, but more of a continuum. Regardless, can consent happen when someone – human or animal – is hijacked by fear, terror, or primal subcortical self-protective responses in the face of coercion, control, threat, or helplessness? Can healthy relationships exist under those conditions? And how can there be connection in relationship without consent? Even the polyvagal theory proposed by neuroscientist Stephen Porges proposes that the capacity for social engagement and connected relationships decreases the more the nervous system is activated in sympathetic charge or in a dorsal shutdown.
Evolutionary biologist Marc Bekoff states, “over the years, I’ve noticed a curious phenomenon. If a scientist says that an animal is happy, no one questions it, but if a scientist says that an animal is unhappy, then charges of anthropomorphism are immediately raised. This ‘anthropomorphic double-talk’ seems mostly aimed at letting humans feel better about themselves”(2009). This phenomenon also occurs when people use “human” concepts like “addictions” and “neglect” when referring to other mammals, instead of sterile words like “stable vices” and “deprivation” which minimize and deny that non-human animals also sense and cope with pain and distress in ways that are remarkably like our own. The same also happens when discussing other animal emotions, in spite of the evidence from the field of affective neuroscience, or even when wanting to use the word “trauma” in relation to non-human animals, a leap many are still reluctant to make. The same can be said for extending the idea of consent to non-human animals as well. This does not mean that there are no differences between humans and non-human mammals, for indeed there are. But all too often a false dichotomy between us and them is created that seems to promote the status quo, rather than face the cognitive dissonance or discomfort that comes when recognizing the impact of one’s actions on others.
The following quote aligns particularly well with this trauma-informed perspective:
“Like many vulnerable humans, animals are capable, though often deprived, of making informed decisions about their lives. Animals can express assent and dissent, but we rarely respect their personal sovereignty in ways that acknowledge their aptitude for making choices. Play and cooperation among animals are examples of how animals can express consent with one another, but we don’t speak the languages of other animals, and they typically don’t speak ours. Even when they express dissent to us, their feelings are often ignored. The ways animals are exploited in research, entertainment, food and clothing production, and other areas of human society clearly defy their sovereignty – much like human exploitation does, suggesting that something much deeper is at work here. In addition to the physical violence animals suffer through, they also suffer from fear, anxiety, and depression – like we do – when their personal sovereignty is violated.” –Hope Ferdowsian, MD, MPH
If saying the word “consent” is still too politically laden, too controversial or too far of a mental leap to make, then using “assent and dissent” still conveys the underlying point. Anecdotally and the research shows that mammals – including humans and equines – are capable of choice and expressing their preferences and opinions. This does not mean that learning to tolerate things that are uncomfortable or doing things we or other animals don’t want to do does not have value. There is a need to be able to do so in life, to compromise, to do what needs to get done (even if unpleasant), such as having to do certain tasks or jobs to pay the bills, following through on commitments or requirements (work ethic), or using distraction in order to cope with an uncomfortable or painful medical procedure, for instance. But there is a far cry between getting a horse to comply with a medical practice that might benefit its own health and wellbeing in the long run, and getting a horse or other animal to comply or submit to an activity that seeks to provide some benefit to someone else at its own expense (or, at worst, causes harm to the animal).
While this issue is difficult to resolve at a macro level (such as using animals in medical testing or other industries that benefit humans – a conversation that is beyond the scope of this article), it is much easier to tackle at a micro level, such as in the field of equine-assisted practice, where partnership with a horse should be the foundation for growth and healing. If the healing, growth or enlightenment of one member of a relationship comes at the expense of another whose “no” is not being respected, what message is this conveying? How “healing” is an interaction if the needs of only one are being acknowledged or respected in the process? Doing so comes at the risk of reinforcing an unfortunate win-lose re-enactment that, ultimately, benefits neither and, at worst, is retraumatizing… something that may be all too familiar for either the horse or the human. Peter Levine, founder of Somatic Experiencing® (SE™), uses the term “renegotiation to refer to the reworking of a traumatic experience in contrast to the reliving of it” (In An Unspoken Voice, 2010, p.23). Reliving, or re-enacting, is repeating a familiar situation or dynamic without resolution. Renegotiating is experiencing a different outcome or experiencing oneself differently in a familiar situation, completing what did not get a chance to biologically complete(such as a self-protective response – the traditional definition of renegotiation within SE™) or repairing or restoring what was ruptured, such as relational trust and attunement. For instance, if one of the goals is for humans to connect with animals in a deeper way, how is this possible if the animal’s needs are disregarded in the process and they are tuned out, shut down, frustrated or merely tolerating the interaction? If one of the goals for humans is congruence, assertiveness and greater agency around voicing needs and boundaries, what is being modeled if the equines’ voice and boundaries are disregarded in the process?
It is important to acknowledge and balance the needs of both members of a relationship – even an inter-species one – especially when the relationship is purported to be the vehicle for healing. And, again, compromise and doing things we might not want to do from time to time are also necessary. But there is a difference between getting there through dominance, fear, submission, coercion, and shutdown, and getting there through mutual respect, choice, compromise, responsiveness to signs of “yes” and “no”, and connection. Offering animals choice does not inherently mean that humans have to relinquish theirs – or vice versa. Rather, it is about really hearing what is being communicated and negotiating from there in a way that honours both voices. Even if this is not always achievable for various valid reasons, aiming for win-win scenarios in human and inter-species relationships to the degree that is possible is nonetheless a worthwhile intention.
Even if equine-assisted practices are typically for human benefit, this does not mean that such programs cannot also seek to benefit the animals in some way. At the very minimum, the interaction will be neutral for the animals, and ideally both would gain from the interaction – the ethical concepts of “do no harm” and “do good” apply equally to the human client and the equines involved. The same can be said for the principles of trauma-informed care. Safety, choice, voice, empowerment, trust, collaboration, compassion – and, yes, even “consent” as defined in this article – can be applied to all those taking part, whether two or four legged, to the degree that is reasonably possible. Since these principles are foundational components of human therapy and of animal rehabilitation programs, extending them to equine-assisted practice also makes sense. After all, “a good principle is a good principle, regardless of where it is applied.”
*The word horse in this article was used to lighten the text. The points raised in this post can apply to other equines and mammals as well. Images in this article are by David Karaiskos Photography.
A recent article published in the Journal of Equine Veterinary Science suggests that the concept of human leadership equating to the hierarchy in a horse herd, which has become foundational in many training approaches, is unreliable and largely irrelevant. Instead, the researchers found that consistent reinforcement of desired behaviors had a much greater effect on horses’ responses than the application of dominance or leadership types of interventions. Although the emerging language used in Natural Horsemanship training methods may sound kinder and gentler, the techniques employed still tend to be based on the use of power, domination and control, which ultimately removes the element of choice from the interaction and largely keeps a horse in his brainstem, where he is operating out of a survival, or fear response system.
The Natural Lifemanship approach to building relationships between horses and humans relies on the principles of pressure, or the raising and lowering of a calm, centered body energy, to invite connection as a choice coming from the horse’s neocortex. The horse always has the option to ignore, resist, or cooperate with the request. By creating a safe space for all of these responses, the horse learns to experience the positive benefits of being in a connected relationship with a human without fear or coercion. Releasing pressure when the horse makes the choice to cooperate uses negative reinforcement (the removal of a stimulus) to encourage positive behaviors. This lines up with what these researchers concluded after sifting through 100 scientific studies on horse behavior, where they found that “horses’ responses to training are more likely a result of reinforcement” rather than of humans taking a leadership role. The researchers ask, “could horses be assigned a more active role during training or are they merely followers with little autonomy if concepts such as leadership are applied in a training context?” Natural Lifemanship practitioners are all about giving horses an “active role” in developing healthy relationships!
Just yesterday while tacking up my horse, I was reminded how easy it is to mistake dissociation for cooperation. It is horse fly season around here, and we are currently inundated with a particularly vicious breed of huge, black, bloodsuckers. These savages pack a painful sting that I have experienced myself way too many times.
There I was, brushing down my horse Partner, when suddenly he was attacked by one of these nasty predators. I couldn’t see the fly, but Partner frantically whipped his tail around as he kicked and danced with his hind feet trying to get away from his tormentor. He was attached to a lead rope I was holding, and I went with his movement as I tried to locate and kill the offending vampire. He continued kicking at his sheath, so I finally reached up to make sure the fly had not landed inside, as they sometimes tend to do. Discovering an unpleasant “goo” that had accumulated on an extra hot and humid day, I only did a brief check before withdrawing my hand.
As I cleaned off my hand with a wipe, Partner became very still, so I hoped that the fly had gone away. I put on his saddle pad and saddle, and when I attached the girth, I noticed how very still he remained. We have been working on comfortable acceptance of the girth, so as I progressively tightened it, I thought, “Wow, maybe he’s finally getting it! Maybe he realizes this is just no big deal! Maybe his ulcer medication helped! Maybe he appreciated my efforts to help him remove that fly!” I was feeling optimistic that we had crossed a training milestone, but what I did not realize was that he was not cooperating…he was simply not there. He was, in fact, frozen.
This became obvious when, once he was bridled and ready to ride, he swatted his tail at his sheath again. I decided I really needed to check that out one last time just in case there was a fly in there, but this time I grabbed a rag and covered my hand before going in. Sure enough, with more extensive exploration, I located one of those gigantic critters inside. I pinched the fly hard and yanked him out. The rag had a big blood spot around the now squashed fly, and I felt awful that Partner had just been standing there suffering for so long while that evil bug feasted on my sweet friend’s tender flesh.
Luckily he was not seriously impaired by his small but painful injury, and we went on to have a pleasant ride. But the experience did influence the ride, because I continued contemplating how often this horse may have appeared to be cooperative when really he was just offering the sort of compliance that comes with dissociation. As a rider, it is so easy to respond in ways that shut down expression rather than looking deeper for what is really happening with the horse. Partner had just shown me how much immediate pain he is able to ignore, and I feel as if I have been put on notice that I must always encourage him to express himself so that I respond as a good partner should. I also had to acknowledge that I have not established the sort of relationship with him where he would continue asking for help rather shutting down when he decided I couldn’t or wouldn’t help.
As a therapist, I was reminded of how often in relationships, especially between parents and children, we mistake submission for cooperation. When we assume that everything is good just because the child is compliant, we often miss important information and fail to notice subtle messages that would reveal the root of problems the child may be experiencing. Becoming attuned to the difference between compliance, which comes from the survival part of the brain, and cooperation, which comes from the “thinking” part of the brain, begins with noticing the contrast between an individual who is frozen vs. one who is consciously choosing to cooperate with a request.
Rather than being attuned when Partner got very still, I became task-oriented thinking it was great that things were going so smoothly. And yet he was hurting inside the entire time…if I had just noticed that his eyes were a bit vacant, or his breathing a bit shallow, I might have continued exploring whether that fly had really gone away. Sometimes we have to stop and consider whether we are really attuned to the other and accurately interpreting their signals in order to build and deepen our relationship.
I think it is very important to remember that change does not happen in a state of comfort. I get to see this played out very frequently. Many of the parents that bring their kids to us want to see change in those kids. However, the kids seem to be comfortable in their behaviors and believe it is only their parents that have a problem. If it is more of a problem for the parents than it is for the child, why would the child be invested in changing? I see the same thing with horses. People want a different response from their horse but they are often unwilling to make it uncomfortable for either of them. This is where the problem lies. If I am unwilling to do things that make me uncomfortable so that I can have a better relationship, can I really expect the child or the horse to do so? I see many parents and horse trainers who are afraid to ask more from the relationship because it makes them uncomfortable to ask.
That being said, change and safety have to run in the same herd for the change to be good for the relationship. Too many times I see change come because it becomes unsafe to not change. That becomes submission or appeasement, both of which will eventually show up as aggression. This aggression can be passive aggression such as manipulation. All too often though, it shows up as defiance, resistance, or outright physical threat or action. Change can only have lasting positive results when it happens in a state of safety. Remember, safety comes from a well-built relationship, not a list of safety rules. It comes from change that has been created in a state of safety but not comfort.
I just had a session today where for a whole 15 minutes my co-therapist and I left the client alone with her horse. Our client requested it, and though it is not something I would do for everyone, for her it was appropriate. My co-therapist and I began a conversation, once apart from the client, about how we had to regulate ourselves against this feeling of “doing enough” in session. But then I have to remind myself that this is why Natural Lifemanship is principle-based – it is intended for an organic unfolding in each session. There is no formula in good therapy, clients come to us and we learn about them – for this, we draw on our training, our understandings of relationships, and our trust in our therapy partners and clients themselves. It is easy to fall into a habit of asking clients to “do attachment” and “do detachment”, but attachment doesn’t just mean asking a horse to look at you and detachment doesn’t just mean asking a horse to move in circles around you. We have to be more flexible in our thinking so that each session is adapted appropriately for our client’s needs.
Attachment and detachment happen in every move that we make within a healthy relationship. I was immediately reminded of this when we walked back after this 15 minutes to check in with our client and see what happened for her during that time. I had noticed that she mostly sat on the opposite side of the round pen while the horse grazed quietly nearby. From the outside, this looks like nothing is happening. But as we visit with our client we find out that she has noticed that her horse is choosing to eat clovers over just plain grass, they are sharing space and coming into physical contact every now and then. She has also noticed other things about her horse, small subtle things about her body language – her ears, a tail flick, the flies are bothering her. This client found herself picking clovers and taking them over to her horse with the desire to connect and “make her horse happy”. Though it doesn’t look like much, this is a beginning to attachment. She is attuned to her horse, she’s paying attention and she’s noticing things about her, all important aspects of being engaged in the early stages of a relationship.
As we talk about her experience, the client notices that she has done all the work that day in the relationship, asking nothing of her horse except to be allowed in the same space. While it looked like nothing happened, a small practice of attachment was occurring, but it was a one-sided attachment. These choices that my client made allowed for great processing of her relationships – in which she often works hard to meet the needs of another without asking much in return. She was able to see this herself because this is exactly how she approached this new relationship with her horse.
What I hope to work toward with this client is an understanding that for this to be a healthy relationship there has to be some growth toward mutual attachment. And hopefully, when she gets that, she will likely find that for her relationship to continue to be healthy she will need some detachment (connection with space) as well. All of this can unfold organically – just like this first session. If we trust that we created a safe (and brave, as my colleague Rebecca Hubbard, says) space for processing and vulnerability – the client can be the driver of realization and the driver of change. For now, this does not require that our client stand at the horse’s hind end and ask the horse to look at her, come to her, and to follow her, yet it is still an experience in attachment in a new relationship and provides plenty of information for reflection, processing, and goal setting. Do I expect to spend every session leaving my client alone while she sits on the grass and watches her horse? No. But if that’s what our client wants, then we have important aspects of the therapy and important aspects of a healthy relationship to explore together. It’s all information for the therapy. Allowing the process to unfold organically means that issues arise naturally, as they need. And consider how much more powerful it will be for that client when SHE decides she wants more from the relationship, and then SHE decides to ask for it. It is her relationship with that horse after all. If I am the driver of change, if I set it up and “make” it so, then is it ever really hers? What kind of relationship am I modeling to her if I don’t trust her to think, to want more, to grow?
It is not unusual for professionals to want a toolbox of “what to do” – and to therefore walk away from our Fundamentals training with the thinking that attachment is asking a horse to look at you, come to you, and follow you, and detachment is asking a horse to go away. But in fact, attachment and detachment are two categories of behavior within a relationship. If, as the saying goes, relationships are a dance, then attachment and detachment are the behaviors that make up that dance. Attachment is the contact; it’s the invitation to dance, it’s taking their hand, it’s the cheek-to-cheek connection, and the energy exchanged between the two people in close proximity. Detachment is the space between that makes it possible for fluid movement and for keeping off of each other’s toes, it’s the strong arms that create a frame around the two people, it’s the energy that is exchanged to maintain space between. It is the structure that supports the dance while attachment is the closeness. Both are necessary, both require engagement between the two. In order to execute the dance, there is a flow back-and-forth between attachment behaviors and detachment behaviors – structure, closeness, structure, closeness. This is an easy exchange of attachment and detachment based on our attunement, based on us paying close attention to each other as we move closer and then we move further away, as we make contact and then we create space – all while we are engaged with each other.
So in our sessions, and with our horses, attachment and detachment occur like this – unfolding organically as each participant makes choices. Attachment and detachment are simply building blocks of healthy relational interactions. And, as our relationship grows, our intimacy grows – the steps of the dance become more challenging, more intricate, and more rewarding – but within them is always engagement through attachment and engagement through detachment.
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