Online research in philosophy

Proposed solutions to sustainability often bring different economic sectors into conflict; when a sustainable solution for one sector is non-sustainable for another it creates what we call the dilemma of sustainability. A recent example took place in the Columbia Basin of the Pacific Northwest, involving competing notions of sustainability by fisheries and the energy industry. Taking up some ideas of Eger and Lyotard, we criticize the constructivist approach which treats large ecosystems as constructions and the process of resolving conflicts of (...) sustainability as one solely consisting of negotiations involving the trading off of interests. We propose instead to treat such conflict resolution via a Gadamerian-inspired hermeneutics that sees different economic sectors as having different interpretations of sustainability and that aims at common understanding. (shrink)

The theoretical and empirical scope of this study thus clarified, an outline of the chapters which follow can now be presented.In Chapter II 1 shall systematically compare Fleck's theories with the approaches adopted by contemporary constructivists. My strategy is partly to use modern forms of constructivism as a foil for extracting relevant and valuable insights from the richness of Fleck's elaborations, partly to identify theoretical and conceptual issues that can possibly be clarified through an empirical 'replication' of Fleck's work. In (...) the following chapters I will therefore deliberately put on spectacles grinded according to different constructivist recipes in order to illuminate various aspects of the concrete episodes under study (always allowing for a comparison with Fleck's empirical analyses) and to elucidate, as far as possible, the theoretical issues involved. Starting out from moderate constructivist approaches (Chapters III and IV) I will move on to more radical forms of constructivism (Chapters V and VII). In the concluding chapter the spectacles themselves will be the object of examination.Chapter III reconsiders the historical genesis of the modem concept of syphilis, which is also the main subject of the first part of Fleck's monograph. Its purpose is to demonstrate the prima facie legitimacy and fruitfulness of a broadly constructivist approach towards the historical genesis of disease concepts. The aim of the chapter is therefore less to criticize than to consolidate and extend Fleck's insights. I do so by following the example of many modem constructivists in adopting Mary Hesse's finitist theory (or 'network theory') of meaning as my starting-point. The results of my explorations vindicate Fleck's view of the (socially) constructed and 'culture-laden' character of the modem concept of syphilis. I also follow up one of Fleck's more specific suggestive remarks, to the effect that moral considerations in particular entered into the construction of concepts of syphilis. To substantiate this suggestion, I pay special attention to the (formerly presumed) 'hereditary' and (still uncontested) venereal character of the disease. By performing a cross-cultural comparison with some non-venereal tropical and subtropical diseases closely related to syphilis, I hope to loosen the hold on our minds of the 'venereal fixation' characteristic of the modem concept of syphilis. Some of the findings discussed in this chapter are calculated to unsettle the tranquillity of mind of hard-headed anti-constructivists and thus, by the same token, to earn credibility for a broadly constructivist approach.Chapter IV describes and analyzes the discovery of the causative agent of syphilis, a subject to which Fleck devotes some brief but interesting passages in his monograph. In this chapter I shall put on the type of spectacles that belong to the special brand of (social) constructivism represented by Harry Collins. Characteristic of this approach, which preferably focuses on the study of scientific controversies, is that the analyst takes a strictly agnostic stance as to the reality or otherwise of the (purported) natural phenomenon under dispute and treats the arguments and actions of the conflicting parties in a symmetrical and impartial way. The empirical subject of this chapter provides a favourable occasion to follow these precepts. During the years 1905-1907 two different microorganisms, Spirochaeta pallida and Cytorrhyctes luis, were in fact proposed and defended as the looked-for aetiological agent of syphilis. Such a situation would seem to be a pre-eminent case calling for a symmetrical treatment in the modern constructivist sense. Indeed, Fleck himself already presented a symmetrical analysis of this episode in his monograph, but - as I will argue - the particular account he offered lacks plausibility. I will undertake a new effort, more sustained and hopefully more thorough-going than Fleck's failed attempt. In the debate on the aetiology of syphilis several issues were raised that are highly relevant for a constructivist analysis, e.g. about the reliability of (microscopic) observation and the possibility of creating 'artefacts' by staining tissue preparations. Fleck's general views on the role of perception and observation, expounded in his monograph and other writings, prove to be useful and pertinent. The case also illustrates the general constructivist insight that appeal to formal methodological rules and criteria is unable to resolve controversies. Finally, the chapter will present a conceptual analysis of the notion of 'discovery' in line with the findings of the historical case-study. A consistently sustained constructivist approach leads to a major rethinking of this notion, taking up but going beyond Thomas Kuhn's views on the matter. To put it briefly and somewhat paradoxically, using the familiar distinction of traditional philosophy of science, the constructivist proposal is to transfer the category of discovery from the 'context of discovery' to the 'context of justification', or rather, to the social context of validation and acceptance.Chapter V deals with the genesis and development of the Wassermann reaction as a clinically usable serological test for detecting syphilis. This is also the main subject of Fleck's monograph. The 'scientific fact' to which the title of his book refers is "the fact that the so-called Wassermann reaction is related to syphilis", which was, according to Fleck, "one of the best established medical facts". The establishment of this fact is seen as the result of a cooperative effort by the so-called 'serological thought collective' led by August Wassermann, which under the influence of the social urgency of the syphilis problem and ancient ideas about syphilitic blood worked unceasingly to improve and perfect the test until a practically usable diagnostic instrument was finally obtained.In this chapter I examine the empirical and theoretical adequacy of Fleck's analysis. I take issue with several elements of his account, but the main objection is that he simply ignores the 'clinical connection' and depicts the development of the Wassermann reaction as if it occurred exclusively within the four walls of the laboratory, with serologists busily 'tuning their sets'. In my alternative account of the whole episode, the interaction between serologists and clinicians figures much more prominently. This account is loosely inspired by Bruno Latour's ideas on 'enrollment' and 'translation of interests'. To convince clinicians of the value and reliability of the Wassermann reaction, serologists were initially caught in a 'dilemma of application' if the outcome of the test agreed with the clinicians' own judgement, it would tell them nothing new; if it disagreed with their judgement, they would doubt its validity and reliability. Through active involvement of clinicians ('enrollment'), the dilemma could be overcome by, on the one hand, changing the technical execution and clinical meaning of the Wassermann reaction, and, on the other, redefining the diagnostic and therapeutic interests of clinicians to which the test would attend. Ultimately, a practically usable serological test for syphilis was achieved by the joint efforts of serologists and clinicians. This analysis also elucidates some riddles that were left unresolved within Fleck's account. However, I intend to do more than rectifying the shortcomings of Fleck's account. I also want to venture, albeit rather cautiously, some radical- constructivist exercises. In addition to the Latourian notions of enrollment and translating interests already mentioned, I have taken into the account the views of Pickering and Rouse on the character of scientific activity as a practice, in particular with regard to the realization of experimental systems and the practical engagement with raw materials, test animals and 'patient material'. In contrast to these radical constructivists, however, I see no reason to reject the notion of interests as used by the moderate constructivists on grounds of principle. In my judgement, a modest role even accrues to the professional interests of serologists and clinicians to understand and explain the development of the Wassermann reaction. Interest explanations, in my view, are perfectly compatible with the phenomenon of interest translation highlighted by Latour.Chapter VI is devoted to an analysis of the dispute over the intellectual ownership of the Wassermann reaction, which erupted in the aftermath of the development of this serological test - as a bitter epilogue, so to speak. It was in 1921 that August Wassermann got embroiled in a lively polemics with, among others, his former collaborator Carl Bruck and his former critic Eduard Weil over the question of who could call himself the legitimate intellectual father of the Wassermann reaction. The reason for devoting a separate chapter to what was considered at the time a rather 'unsavoury' dispute, is that it offers us a unique possibility to critically examine on the basis of historical material the much-criticized 'collectivistic' or 'anti-individualistic' stance characteristic of Fleck's approach. The conclusion of my analysis is that this 'collectivistic' feature of Fleck's sociology of knowledge made him, indeed, illequipped to adequately deal with the struggle over the intellectual ownership of the Wassermann reaction. He uncritically takes the assertions made by the protagonists during the course of this struggle as simply reflecting their views on the development of the Wassermann reaction, without taking account of the fact that these utterances were made for strategic reasons to bolster up their respective claims to the intellectual property of the serological test or to defeat the claims of others. My own account of this 'unsavoury' episode is inspired by Robert Merton's sociology of science which takes a more balanced stance on the relationship between individual and collective. For the Mertonian sociology of science, the struggle over intellectual property between (former) team members is a still unexplored theme (it has mostly concentrated on priority disputes between independent scientists). I also relax Merton's restriction on analyzing the content of scientific knowledge: the question of who has had a creative part in the making of a discovery is indissolubly bound up with the question of what exactly has been discovered. In the struggle over the Wassermann reaction participants could argue their case only by taking a stand on both questions. In this way I attempt to integrate Mertonian insights within a broadly constructivist approach. In view of the fact that Merton's sociology of science has received a barrage of criticism from constructivist quarters, the attempt may be interpreted as a plea for rehabilitation.Chapter VII deals with the development of an effective chemotherapeutic medicine against syphilis by Paul Ehrlich and his co-workers. Fleck's monograph contains only a few passing remarks on this development. The reason for including a chapter on this subject, apart from the fact that it constitutes an important node in the expanding conceptual network of syphilology, is that Ehrlich's work appears to be an excellent case on which to perform the kind of analysis that has become customary in more recent forms of (radical) constructivism, viz. those connected with the movement away from 'science-as-knowledge' toward 'science-as-practice'. Andrew Pickering is the most outspoken exponent of this tendency, but it is also manifest in Joseph Rouse's work and in Karin Knorr-Cetina's earlier contributions. Some aspects of Latour's work too can be brought under this heading. The crucial question of how laboratory results can be applicable, or be made applicable, to the world outside the laboratory (in other words, how the 'science' gets out of the laboratory), which he has raised to such prominence, can be fruitfully taken up in an analysis of 'scienceas-practice'. Such an analysis had already been partially attempted in Chapter V, but is conducted in a more sustained and systematic way in this chapter. The object of analysis is Paul Ehrlich's practice of 'experimental therapeutics' (or 'chemotherapy'), which modem pharmacologists often consider to be the beginnings of rational drug design. To inaugurate this practice he built up a vast 'Construction machinery' (Knorr-Cetina) by acquiring the necessary funds and material and human resources through an intimate symbiosis with the German chemical (synthetic dye) industry. In order to put these resources to productive work, he borrowed from this same industry a model of research management and division of scientific labour, which he tailored to his own needs by combining chemical work with the large-scale testing of chemical preparations on experimental animals. The secret of Ehrlich's success was in fact the combination of 'chemical mass-labour' with 'biological mass- labour' and the creation of 'experimental systems' (Rouse) through the suitable selection of test animals. Of course, Ehrlich and his collaborators had to overcome many constraints and limitations of the raw materials and test animals. The entire venture was not oriented to finding a remedy against syphilis immediately from the start; it was only during the course of the programme and through 'opportunism in context' (Pickering) that the turn to this disease occurred. Initially, Ehrlich had boasted that through his approach, using animal experiments on an extensive scale, the most 'optimal' drugs could be developed and selected so as to make the final test on man no more, as it were, than proving the sum. Things would dramatically turn out otherwise. After an effective substance had been found against syphilitically infected rabbits, the gap separating laboratory and outside world had to be bridged and this proved to be an even more exacting task than developing the medicine in the first place. A constructivist analysis inspired by the science-as-practice approach highlights the difficulties that have to be confronted when laboratory products are to find their way into the 'wider' society. In this particular case, the insufficiency of Latour's own answer to the question he raised is clearly revealed: the clinical introduction of Salvarsan involved much more than simply transplanting laboratory conditions to the outside world, it also involved the 'normalization of the object' (Knoff-Cetina), legal, social and political intervention, and continued experimentation with the medicine after its commercial introduction (the thesis of 'society as laboratory').Chapter VIII does not deal with a particular episode in the history of syphilology, but offers a reconstruction of the so-called 'serological thought style' which according to Fleck determined the way of thinking and acting of the serologists' collective led by Wassermann. In contrast to Fleck, contemporary constructivists generally reject, on the basis of finitist arguments, such an explanatory use of the notion of thought style. This still leaves the possibility that the term refers to an interesting phenomenon worthy of investigation as an explanandum. Fleck's descriptive characterization of the serological thought style, however, also raises questions. Following Harwood I argue that this concept can be meaningfully employed only in a comparative way. It does not make sense to speak of the thought style of a serologists' collective, if this same style cannot be recognized in other sectors than serology and if it cannot be contrasted with different styles. To carry out this comparative investigation I will draw upon the various episodes in the history of syphilology as discussed in the preceding chapters, which together cover several sectors of medical science (nosology, aetiology, serology, and therapy). The unity of Fleck's 'serological' thought style will be found in the basic idea of specificity. Viewed in this way it represents the so-called 'pluralist' style, previously analyzed by Pauline Mazumdar, which can be contrasted with the so-called 'unitarian' style. Harwood's requirements for the meaningful employment of style concepts can thus be met. Finally I show that the 'power' of the pluralist style (and of the basic idea of specificity) can be partially explained from the unprecedented power structure which the Koch-Ehrlich group had built up in German medical science in the years around 1900.In Chapter IV, finally, I have attempted to develop, by building on the results of the preceding chapters, a reasoned and well-considered position vis-à-vis the two big fundamental problems which continue to haunt constructivist studies of science and technology, to wit, the problem of realism and the question of how to conceive of 'the social' and the relationship between the individual and the collective. The latter problem includes the question of how to adequately conceptualize the notion of 'social practices' in general and of 'scientific practices' in particular, Moderate and radical constructivism take very different positions with regard to both fundamental problems. Radical constructivists push the construction metaphor to such extent that in their view not just plastics or genetically modified organisms but also microbes, electrons and quarks are held to be constructed by science. Latour and Woolgar's 'splitting-and-inversion' model about the genesis of facts often lies hidden behind this view. It is because of such views that radical constructivism clashes with current realist conceptions, despite the fact that radical constructivists themselves believe to have transcended the entire debate between realism and anti-realism. Among the moderate constructivists, the term 'construction' refers exclusively to the formation of knowledge about natural reality, not to that reality itself or its constituent objects. The adherents of the Strong Programme even take a stance as common-sense realists vis-à-vis reality. I think such a position is excellently defensible. It is preferable, in my opinion, to so-called 'scientific realism', which is too strongly committed to the existence of those theoretical entities which are currently accepted in science. Moreover, this variety of realism also argues rather problematically from the practical success of applications of science to the truth of the underlying theories and fails to appreciate the open-ended character of concept application as emphasized in the finitist theory.As regards the second fundamental problem I should declare that I do not share the hypercritical skepticism which radical constructivists display vis-à-vis 'the social'. I have attempted to rebut each of several objections which they have adduced against 'social' explanations of the content of scientific knowledge. Latour's argument, for example, to the effect that society does not provide a solid basis for such explanations because technoscientists themselves act as 'society builders', is only a half- truth, for even when acting in that capacity technoscientists act under definite, not freely chosen or fully controllable societal relationships. I also confront Rouse's criticism that moderate constructivists tend to treat the validation of knowledge-claims within self-enclosed scientific communities and the position defended by Knorr-Cetina that the validation of such claims has no need for a social locus beyond the laboratory itself. I further reject the criticism expressed by Woolgar that any attempt to demonstrate the social determination of scientific knowledge invariably involves portraying competent and knowledgeable actors as mere puppets or 'cultural dopes'. I admit, however, that it is very difficult to strike a proper balance between the spontaneity and agency of individual actors, on the one hand, and the effects of social structures ('constraints'), on the other hand. It would therefore be very welcome to have a theory which is able to do justice to both aspects. That is why I finally examine Anthony Giddens's 'structuration theory' to see whether it fulfils these desiderata. In the end it appears that the modification of Giddens's theory proposed by William Sewell may be reasonably satisfactory. Whereas Giddens views social structure as a virtual order consisting of a set of rules and resources that is reproduced in concrete practices, Sewell reformulates the duality of structure as a duality of virtual elements, namely rules or cultural schemas, and actual elements, namely resources. The deployment of (material and human) resources is informed by cultural schemas; conversely, in order to be reproduced the latter must actually be used in the accumulation of resources. Within this framework the 'agency' of individuals is conceived as empowerment through access to resources and the competence to apply existing cultural schemas to new contexts. Sewell's emphasis on the transposability of cultural schemas to new situations exhibits similarity to the finitist view. He also conceives of 'agency' as thoroughly social. Finally I argue that his conceptualization of the notion of social practices is able to incorporate the valuable elements in Pickering's 'science-as-practice' approach and Rouse's 'practical hermeneutics' without taking the dubious 'posthumanist' and 'anti-social' tenor of the latter approaches also on board. (shrink)

For many people, laypeople as well as animal scientists and philosophers, animal welfare involves animal feelings. Scientifically, however, animal feelings are problematic. In the concluding remarks of a conference about the welfare of domestic animals in 1994, for example, two questions for further research were proposed: (1) What is the nature of feelings? and (2) Why is it not possible to measure the occurrence of feelings in animals directly? This book intends to give a philosophical and scientific-theoretical answer to both (...) questions. The two questions are transformed into the following: (1) How can we conceptualize animal experiences such as feelings or emotions in a philosophically and theoretically sound way? and (2) Which method is appropriate to gain knowledge of animal experiences?These questions are answered first by examining two ethological animal welfare theories, namely that of Wiepkema and Toates and that of Dawkins. These theories have animal feelings of welfare as their subject matter. My conclusion after examining these welfare theories is that they do not conceptualize and obtain scientific knowledge of animal feelings at all. These theories only study animal behaviour and physical aspects of animals and assume that these aspects refer to animal feelings of welfare. Because they are applications of animal ethology, these theories stick to the natural-scientific method of research. The use of this method leads to two different conceptualizations of animal welfare feelings. The theory developed by Wiepkema and Toates conceives of animal feelings as unobservable, internal causes of animal behaviour. In Dakwins' theory, seen as a logical-behaviouristic theory, "animal feelings" are names for particular forms of law-governed animal behaviour. My comment on both theories is that animal experiences are solely theoretical concepts or designations. These ethologists simply assume rather than demonstrate that particular animal behaviour is caused by or associated with animal experiences.Wiepkema, Toates and Dawkins also acknowledge this. In order to say that animal behaviour refers to subjective animal feelings, they use the argument from analogy that states that because there are similarities between human and vertebrate animal behaviour and (neuro)physiological processes, it is plausible that animals have similar experiences as humans. However, like most animal welfare scientists, they correctly say that this is an unscientific argument. My final conclusion is that it is impossible to infer subjective animal experiences from objectively studied, physical and behavioural phenomena.This conclusion is in line with the main thesis of philosophical hermeneutics. This thesis states that subjects cannot be studied as such in a natural-scientific way because the concept of 'subject' demands a different, non-objectivating method of knowledge. Philosophical hermeneneutics can perhaps answer the question of a proper concept for subjective animal experience, although animals are not the explicit subject matter of this discipline.Two founding fathers of 20th Century hermeneutics, namely Dilthey and Gadamer, are studied concerning the concepts of 'subject' and 'experience'. My conclusion is that the subject-philosophy of these two philosophers is primarily a philosophy for human subjects, thereby more or less excluding the possibility for animal subjectivity. Since Gadamer does not consider animals linguistic beings, he seems to exclude animal experience. However, he opens up the way to a philosophy about animal experiences as bodily experiences. Dilthey, in his later writings, follows the same line of reasoning as Gadamer emphasizing the common, cultural-historical meaning of experiences and their expression and understanding, which is typically human. In his early writings, however, Dilthey underlines the individual, subjective aspects of experiences in humans and higher animals. Although he later does not reject this psychological foundation of experience, he simply fails to ask: what about animal experience? thereby evading the question of how we as cultural and historical humans can understand non-cultural and non-historical animal experience. The line of reasoning these two philosophers have in common is that they say: if animals have experiences, then these experiences must be similar to human experiences. Actually, their subject-philosophy is a philosophy of human subjectivity which can hardly cover animal experiences.Rather than trying to find a philosophical concept of human experience that can cover animal experience, a third possibility between human experience and the absence of experience is looked for. The philosophies of the phenomenologists Merleau-Ponty and Plessner which emphasize the bodily character of human and animal experience offer this possibility.Merleau-Ponty's philosophical phenomenology seems to promise a conceptualization of bodily animal experiences. The conclusion of his analysis of human perceptions is that not the linguistic but the bodily way of human being is the foundation of human perceptions and experiences. He sees the human body as ambiguous: both physical and conscious (i.e., experiencing) and he assumes this philosophical analysis adequate to cover animal relationships with their environment. Inspired by the difference that Merleau-Ponty makes between the bodily comprehension of humans and the hermeneutic understanding of person, I propose the concept of the impersonal meaning of animal experience as an alternative of the personal, cultural and historical character of human experience.Because Merleau-Ponty repeatedly says that all living beings are intertwinings of physical body and consciousness, he seems to say that plants and micro-organisms are also experiencing beings, thereby making no distinction between animals and other non-human organisms.Plessner offers the required specification. He asserts that human as well as animal relationships to their environment are mediated by a self. To him, the human relationship to the environment is mediated by language, personality, culture and history. What Plessner calls a "double human self" - namely a bodily bound self and a reflective "I" - is the foundation of this relationship. He further states that human personality, culture and history give form to bodily experiences. Animals, by contrast, cannot distance themselves from their own body and bodily-bound self. Animals do not have the capacity of reflective, linguistic, personal or cultural-historical experience; they have only bodily and environmentally tied, here-and-now experiences. Thereby, Plessner provides an elaborated, philosophical concept of animal experience that is not similar to the concept of human experience.Buytendijk, who worked as an animal psychologist around the middle of this century, can be seen as applying Plessner's concept of bodily and environmentally tied animal experience to research. He fully adopted Plessner's philosophy of animals and humans and in his own animal experiments and in discussions of those performed by others, he adopts the view that animal behaviour is an expression of their experiences which are bound to the present Umwelt and bodily possibilities of the animals involved.When comparing the method that Buytendijk used with the hermeneutical and phenomenological method of understanding human experiences, one can see that:

1. Unlike the meaning of human experiences, the meaning of animal experiences is not personal within a cultural-historical context. This is a vital, impersonal meaning that is bound to momentary bodily perceptions and actions in the present Umwelt .
2. We can understand this meaning within a species-specific context.
3. This species-specific context is not given beforehand as a standard for interpreting animal behaviour. We attain knowledge of this context by interpreting the meaning of expressions of particular animals of a species under various circumstances.
4. Because animals, contrary to humans, are not open to others, we cannot share with them our knowledge of the meaning of their experiences.

The conclusion of these comparisons is that our interpretation of the meaning of animal expressions always remains, conceptually and methodically, our human interpretation. Whether our interpretations of the meaning of animal expressions are more or less adequate depends on whether they meet the usual standards of hermeneutical understanding: coherence between interpretations and accordance with biological knowledge of the animals involved.Finally, two contemporary animal welfare debates are discussed. The first (a conference about welfare of domestic animals in 1994) is a philosophical and theoretical debate about the concept of animal welfare and the method for measuring it. The two main issues at that conference were: are feelings a fundamental aspect of animal welfare? and how can we measure animal welfare? The second question turned out to be the most important. Some participants said that feelings, although important, should not belong to the scientific concept of animal welfare because they cannot be measured; physical indicators of welfare are sufficient for speaking of welfare. Other participants held that we can indirectly know feelings by measuring physical and behavioural indicators. However, most of these indicators are the same as those used by animal welfare scientists who claim that they measure only the physical aspects of animal welfare, irrespective of associated animal feelings. Animal welfare scientists who stress feelings of welfare simply add that these observations refer to the animals' feelings of poor welfare. One participant of the conference argued that physical indicators of animal welfare cannot be used as indicators of feelings of welfare too; these feelings have to be demonstrated independently of physical indicators of welfare.In the second debate about welfare of farm mink, the validity of the argument that feelings have to be demonstrated independently has been exemplified. The question in this debate was whether some particular behaviour of farm mink, called "stereotypic behaviour", counted as expressions of poor welfare. All participants in this debate tried to demonstrate or contest this by means of natural-scientific experiments. A critical reading of this debate demonstrates that scientists only agree upon the designs and results of such experiments if they also agree upon the interpretation of the meaning of the animals' behaviour. Almost all the conclusions from experiments regarding mink's welfare can be contested from the point of view of another interpretation of the mink's behaviour. This debate shows the primacy of the interpretation of animal behaviour as an expression of experiences over results of natural- scientific experiments. This primacy requires an explicit method for interpreting animal behaviour in order to reach an agreement about various interpretations. The type of research into welfare of farm mink as used by one of the participants in this debate is considered as containing elements of such an interpretative method. Contrary to her own intention, the researcher does not see the mink's behaviour only as a causal effect of fulfilled or unfulfilled needs, but primarily as meaningful behaviour. By carefully looking at and comparing the form of the behaviour of farm mink and wild mink, she tries to interpret their behaviour. The aim of these interpretations is not to look into the animals' heads in order to see experiences as causes of animal behaviours. I state that the aim is to attain a coherence between the assumed meanings of various animal behaviours. This coherence provides us with a background for natural-scientific explanations of these behaviours, experimental results and other physical data.At the end of this book, the four principles of animal welfare research as an integration of interpretative and natural-scientific research are evaluated:

1. In order to study animal welfare as subjective experience, a view is needed that conceptually and methodically maintains animal welfare as subjective experience. Saying that animal welfare is not only physical but primarily a matter of feelings, requires something other than physical measurements of welfare. The debate about farm mink shows that scientists studying animal welfare from a natural-scientific angle already take this view, albeit implicitly. The method developed above can make the interpretation of animal behaviour a matter on which ethologists and other animal scientists can attain an argumentative consensus.
2. Although the concept of animal welfare is about what matters to the animal, the animal's point of view should be abandoned as the criterion of knowledge of animal experiences of welfare. Animals are not able to agree upon interpretations of their behaviour. Hence, these interpretations always remain human interpretations.
3. The species-specificity of animal behaviour cannot function as the criterion of animal welfare. Whether a particular animal behaviour is species-specific or not depends on one's interpretations of various behaviours of animals of a certain species.
4. Interpretations of animal behaviour as indications of good or poor animal welfare should not be in contradiction with natural-scientific research data that also refer to good or poor welfare. They should be brought into coherence with each other. Natural science studies the physical aspect and interpretative science the expressive aspect. These two types of research are not independent of each other; they both rely upon background knowledge regarding what counts as good or poor animal welfare. In some cases the results of both types of research can contradict and challenge each other. I argue that one cannot say beforehand which of these views is correct; this can only be decided upon by trying to attain a new consensus about interpretative and natural-scientific assessments of the animals' welfare.

. (shrink)