Page 5 - Autumn 13

Defining Harm – What would Hippocrates say? by Don Hamilton, USA
Note: While I prefer to refer to use the terms “human and nonhuman animal” rather than “human and animal,” given that we are also animals, in this essay I have used “animal” to represent nonhu- man animal, for brevity and a less cumber- some read.
I recently heard an interview with an anthro- zoologist about cat behavior and cats’ relation- ships to humans. In many ways, it was a good interview, but among his points were that the cat’s hunting instincts were troublesome to humans; for example, we don’t like the bloody carcass on the carpet, and we don’t like to see the suffering they cause their prey. Further, as we now feed “pet” cats, they really do not need to hunt, and so the hunting instinct is essen- tially vestigial, thus we should attempt to breed cats, who have no hunting instinct. He also stated that we should breed cats to be less soli- tary, to get along better in multi-cat house- holds. And then he went even further, suggesting that, as most cats in animal shelters come from street cats, these cats are less suit- able for pets than intentionally bred cats, as street cats’ hunting instincts and solitary natures are too strong.
This troubled me, as I am struck by his idea, really our culture’s idea, that animals rather revolve around humans like planets around the sun, and that we therefore have the right to craft them to suit our needs as “pets.” I am greatly troubled these days about the human-animal relationship, especially as it is so heavily weighted to supplying our needs as against those of the animal. In many ways, I feel this whole “pet” phenomenon is a terrible mistake.
What, you may ask, has this to do with homeopathy? Maybe nothing directly, but maybe it does. As veterinarians, our first priority should be the animal’s health rather than the human’s needs. And so, what if we have a dog with lick granulomas, resulting wholly or in large part from long days alone while his guardian works? We diligently take the case, and with luck we may find a remedy to help the dog cope better with isolation, therefore allow- ing the lick granulomas to heal.
But have we done him a favor? Yes and no. Yes, in that we have helped reduce his suffer- ing. But no, in that his suffering was a message that his guardian was not providing a proper
home and life for this dog. His illness presents clear evidence of a problem. And, as Hahnemann said, if there is an obstacle to cure, we must remove that obstacle in order to effect a cure. So, if we successfully alter this dog with homeopathy, such that his lick granulomas go away, without changing his living conditions, is that not, by definition, suppressive?
Furthermore, are we really helping in the long run, if our medicine aids us in altering our patients’ very nature in order that they are more convenient for us?
James Hillman, a Jungian psychoanalyst, wrote a book many years ago, called We've Had a Hundred Years of Psychotherapy – And the World's Getting Worse. Among Hillman’s points in the book is that psychotherapists attempt to help their patients cope with their lives, but that often their “problems” represent normal responses to a life, for which humans have not evolved. A classic example might be someone working a repetitive, mindlessly boring job, such as on an assembly line. And so, he says, the problem is not the patient; rather the prob- lem is our culture. Helping individuals cope with a culture that frustrates their humanness, therefore, can only palliate or suppress (in our homeopathic terms, not in Hillman’s terms), and subsequently the disease – the cultural disease – continues to deepen. Thus Hillman’s postulate that one hundred years of psy- chotherapy has worsened the world.
In a similar manner, if we attempt to breed cats, who do not want to hunt, or who like to live in a household with many other cats – in other words, breeding some of the essential catness out of the cat – surely this cannot prove useful in the long run. I do not believe, it is possible to so alter the cat, such that stress will not under- lie its life as a domestic pet, resulting in more illness, even if we attempt to treat these stressed animals with homeopathy. Stress, as we understand, lies at the root of all dis-ease.
Consider cancer, which we see too much these days. Cancer, in one sense, is about con- trol, wherein patients live their lives either attempting to control their lives and environ- ments or being controlled by their environ- ments, causing many of these patients to feel rather boxed-in. At some point, the cancer – the uncontrolled cell growth – breaks out of this control, as a last ditch effort to escape an intol- erable life or situation.
Humans, like cats and dogs, have also
been altered to fit a modern lifestyle, mostly indoors, in cars, on cellphones, in jobs that do not feed our most ancient drives, like hunting and gathering. We have been domesticated, and we attempt to live in a world that chal- lenges these millennially old patterns. Doctors, counselors, and psychotherapists have unwit- tingly helped in this domestication, this subju- gating of primal needs, as Hillman suggests.
Cancer today affects more than one in three humans, probably approaching one in two and a half, if not one in two. In 1900, the rate was one in forty. Of course, many factors contribute to this increase, like toxins and elec- tromagnetic fields and poor food quality. But if we return to the homeopathic view of control decompensating to out of control, could our domestication be a major factor? After all, in 1900, at least here in the United States, most people still lived rurally thus closer to nature. Carl Jung stated that separateness from nature was a huge factor in psychological disturbance. Could the largest part of the cancer epidemic be that, despite medical and psychological help, and even homeopathic help, we really cannot cope with this world, this modern cul- ture? Thus we develop cancer in droves, in order to escape this world? (And, of course, the cancer epidemic is not limited to the human population.)
And so, returning to our profession as vet- erinarians, dedicated to helping the nonhu- mans in our lives, where does our duty lie? Should we not question the idea of breeding animals to make them more compliant, more convenient? And should we not also ask our- selves, with every cat patient (for example), if our treatment supports her integrity as a cat, or does our treatment merely help her cope with a life that frustrates the very essence of her catness? Do we dare consider obstacles to cure, even when, especially when, these obstacles challenge almost every concept, this culture promotes regarding keeping companion animals?
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