Ashley and Animals

Our discussion of Ashley's treatment – in particular, the vehement defense of Ashley's dignity – poses a serious ethical question. It is clear that Ashley's brainpower does not factor in our valuing of her as an individual. Rather, she holds intrinsic value just like the rest of us, and has what some call 'dignity'.

But if Ashley, or any human with arbitrarily small brain capacity, has dignity and all the rights the rest of us hold, why is it that non-human animals do not? Perhaps the only significant distinction that can be drawn between humans and animals lies in our difference in brainpower: it is clear that in that respect, at least, we are 'superior' to animals. But when that difference is erased or even overturned, as in Ashley's case, why is it that we hold animals in such significantly lower moral standing?

Once distinctions about mental capacity are erased, the remaining distinctions between humans and non-humans are morally irrelevant ones. Some, for example, are historical: we have treated animals with lower moral standing than humans for a long time. This, however, only gives us information about what moral standing we have perceived animals to have, not the moral standing they in fact deserve. Of course, animals are also not part of our species, and are outwardly very different from us. But basing moral claims on this distinction is hardly more convincing than racism: outward appearance should have no bearing on moral standing.

This is a particularly unsettling argument for most, as it seems to be 'reducing' Ashley or other similarly disabled individuals to the level of animals. Though this is superficially true, the argument points in the direction of improving animals' moral status, not in diminishing the status of disabled individuals. It simply seeks to point out an inconsistency in the way we value the wishes of sentient beings: we value the interests of humans with weaker mental capacity than us, but we ignore those of non-humans with weaker mental capacities.