CHAPTER XVII

THE FUTURE OF VIVISECTION[1]

[1] Address delivered at Washington, D.C., before the International Humane Congress, December 10, 1913.

Attempts to forecast the future development of Humanity in any direction have always possessed for some minds a peculiar fascination. Plato and Bacon had their visions of a State superior to that in which they lived; Burton foresaw improvements in the administration of justice, and the condition of the poorer classes, which waited for two centuries for some measure of realization; even Defoe had his list of "projects," some of which, laughed at in their day, are the realities of our time. No great reform in any direction was ever effected which had not been the unrealized vision of a dreamer.

And such dreams are the romance of history. For any one to have imagined two centuries ago, that the African slave-trade and negro slavery would some day be condemned by every civilized nation, not because they were pecuniarily unprofitable, but because they contravened the conscience of Society and its sense of righteousness, requierd a faith in the ultimate triumph of justice over greed, that not one man in ten thousand possessed. For Calvin or Torquemada to have imagined the coming of a time when the burning of an unbeliever would not be regarded as pleasing to the Deity, demanded a sublimer vision than either of them possessed. Custom and universal acceptance would sometimes seem to create impregnable barriers against change. But with the slow lapse of years, the venerated custom is attacked by doubt; the superstition is undermined, and the great evil gradually passes from the sight. No great wrong is so securely entrenched, as to be absolutely safe from the ultimate condemnation of mankind.

What is to be the future of vivisection, as conducted in America to- day? Is it to continue, without other limitations against cruelty than those which are self-imposed, without legal restriction or restraint, so long as civilization endures, ever widening its scope, ever increasing the hecatombs of its victims, until uncounted milions shall have been sacrificed? Is protest against excess to grow weaker, until the ideal of humaneness in the laboratory shall become a scoff and a byword? Is approval of any research in the name of Science to become stronger until it shall cover the vivisection of human beings as well as the exploitation of animals? Or are we to expect, as the result of agitation, the legal suppression of all scientific research requiring animal life, within the limits of the next half-century? It is easier to ask questions than to answer them. Yet, as one who for over thirty years, has taken some part in the agitation for reform, you may be willing to permit a forecast of probabilities, vague, it may be, as the vision of a sailor peering through the darkness that environs the ship,--but the best he can do.

No estimate of the future of vivisection in America can be of value which does not recognize the power of the laboratory at the present day. Half a century ago, the vivisection of animals was rarely practised; to-day, in the older states, there are few institutions of higher learning which do not possess ample facilities for animal experimentation. Millionaires, many times over, have been induced to devote some part of their great wealth to the foundation and support of institutions for exsperimentation upon living things. Farms have been established where animals destined to sacrifice, are born and bred. It may safely be estimated that in America, to-day, there are not less than five hundred times as many experiments every year, as took place half a century ago.

One must recognize, too, the change which has taken place in the attitude of a majority of the medical profession towards this reform. During the past thirty years, thousands of young men have entered the profession, who have been carefully educated to regard all criticism of animal experimentation as due to a sentimentalism worthy only of contempt. I greatly doubt whether even one per cent. of the physicians in America, under fifty years of age, have ever heard that half a century ago, the feeling of the medical profession, in the English-speaking world was almost unanimous in disapproval and condemnation of methods and of experiments which now pass without notice, and uncondemned. When men, educated to come into the closest of relations with their fellow-beings, are thus prejudiced and uninformed, should we wonder that their views are so widely accepted? The wonder to me is rather that so large a minority are not to be convinced that everything in a laboratory must be right.

Another element of the forces that to-day are marshalled against reform, is the Press. Political journals, which even twenty-five years ago endeavoured to hold an attitude of impartiality, now present editorials almost every week in ridicule of any legal regulation of vivisection, or of any opposition to laboratory freedom. The intimate knowledge of medical matters sometimes exhibited by the writers, would seem to indicate a closer relation between the physiological laboratory of to-day, and the editorial sanctum, than existed forty years ago. There are journals, so closely related, apparently, to laboratory interests, that they do not permit correction of editorial misstatements or mistake to appear in their columns, even when such blunders are pointed out. The old impartial attitude of the Press seems--except here and there--to have completely disappeared. Any forecast of the future must take into account this vast and ever- increasing influence.

Yet another impediment to the legal repression of any cruelty pertaining to animal experimentation is one which we all deplore, even though no remedy appears in sight. It is not the opposition of enemies, but division among friends that constitutes, in my opinion, the greatest present obstacle to any reform. It is as though against some strong fortress, different armies were engaging in an attack, each with its separate purpose, its own plan of campaign, its own ultimate aim, and now and then crossing and recrossing in each other's way, to the infinite delight of the enemy. Some of us make the demand that ALL such inquiry on the part of Science shall be made a crime; and some of us take the position of the English-speaking medical profession of forty years ago, that ABUSES AND CRUELTY ALONE should be the object of attack. If opposition from the first, had been solely directed against ABUSES of vivisection, could any reform have been achieved? It is not certain. When Mr. Rockefeller opened his purse on the vivisection table, he added immeasurably to the strength of the forces that resist reform. And yet it is difficult to over-estimate the loss to any cause of such men as Sir Benjamin Ward Richardson, as Professor William James and Professor Henry J. Bigelow of Harvard University, or of Dr. Theophilus Parvin of Jefferson Medical College,--to refer only to the dead. Their criticisms of cruelty were outspoken, but they could not join in universal condemnation of all such inquiry into the phenomena of life. Might it not have been better--even at the cost of a lessened demand--to have kept on the side of reform that large element in the medical profession which willingly condemned abuse, but declined to denounce the simplest demonstration, or the most painless investigation? Of course such an inquiry will receive different replies. It is ever the easier task to make condemnation absolute. The thing has been done; the past is beyond recall. But in looking at the future, we cannot but recognize the changed attitude of a majority of the medical profession from that of half a century ago.

The strongest position of the modern physiological laboratory, is its SECRECY. It occupies in the popular mind almost precisely the place which was held for centuries by the Inquisition in Spain. There were men who doubtless objected, then, to the secrecy of the dungeon. "Trust us absolutely," cried the inquisitor. "Ours is the responsibility of preventing errors that lead to eternal death. Can you not leave it to us to decide what shall be done in the torture- chamber, being assured that NO MORE PAIN WILL BE INFLICTED THAN IS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY FOR THE END IN VIEW?" "Trust us absolutely," demands the vivisector of to-day. "Can you dare to question the purity of our motives, the unselfishness of our aims, the mild and humane methods of our experimentation? Why should any one wish to disturb the silence and secrecy in which we carry on our work? Cannot the public leave it solely to us to determine what pain may be inflicted upon animals, being certain that no more suffering will be caused than we deem to be necessary for success?"

The parallelism is complete. It is a call for implicit confidence. And that confidence has been given by a too credulous public. Three hundred years ago, when the victims were marched in long procession from dungeon to burning-place, they were accompanied by an approving mob, eager to inflict every indignity and to applaud every pang. The men about the burning-place were not intentionally cruel. They had simply given the control of their judgment to the inquisitor. Is it so very different, to-day, in the matter of vivisection? Why should we hesitate to recognize that at the present time, a large section of the general public have made the same act of surrender, justifying whatever the laboratory demands, and defending whatever it defends?

It seems to me probable, therefore, that for many years to come, the laboratory for vivisection, IF ONLY IT CAN MAINTAIN ITS SECRECY, will continue as serenely indifferent to criticsm, as completely master of the confidence of modern society, as supreme in power and position as was the Spanish Inquisition of three centuries ago. New laboratories will be founded upon ill-gotten wealth; new inquisitors, with salaries greater than those of Washington or Lincoln will take the places of those that retire; new theories, now unimagined, will demand their tribute of victims to help prove or disprove some useless hypothesis; even new methods of torment may be invented, and new excuses for their necessity put forth. Nor is this all. If the laboratory of the present day shall continue to maintain its hold upon the intelligence of modern society; if it can keep unimpaired that confidence in its benevolent purpose, that belief in accomplishment, that faith in utility which now so largely obtains; and if, moreover, it can secure for the charity hospital that absolute power and secrecy which it has gained for itself in animal experimentation, then, within the lifetime of men now living, human beings will take their place as "material" for investigation of human ailments. Upon the living bodies of Amerian soldiers, upon lunatics in asylums and babes in institutions and patients in charity hospitals, experiments of this character have already taken place. Is utility to Science to be considered the standard by which human actions are to be judged? Then, even within the present century, experimentation upon human beings may be openly acknowledged as a defensible method of investigation.

Now all this is not a cry of despair, a confession of defeat. It is meant only to be rational recognition of existing conditions, and especially of the forces that now prevent reform. Perhaps if the armies were united, a different forecast could be made; but that union is beyond hope. The enthusiasm that would expect to eliminate a great evil on other terms, and within the space of time occupied by a single generation does not seem to me to be justified by the records of history. Of the ultimate triumph of the reform of vivisection, there can be no more question than of the result of the agitation against human slavery, against the torment of criminals, against the burning of the heretic or the witch. In what way may we anticipate its coming?

We may be certain that a period will yet arrive, when among the more intelligent classes of society, doubts concerning the practical utility of all that is done in the name of Science will take the place of present-day credulity. It is too soon to expect a general spirit of inquiry to arise; the closed laboratory has not been so long in existence but that a request for more time to demonstrate possibility of accomplishment may seem not unreasonable. But some time in the future, long after we have all passed away, the intellectual world may be moved by the spirit of doubt and unrest; it will ask from the laboratory a statement of account; it will demand that the books be balanced; and that against the cost of agony and death, there be made known whatever gains in way of discoveries of clearly demonstrated value to humanity, can be proven to exist.

Like the servant in the parable, the modern laboratory has been given its ten talents. It enjoys a secrecy which is profound, all that wealth can procure, and unrestricted opportunity for ever phase of research. There is no limitation to the torments which it may inflict, without impediment or fear of public criticism, if present secrecy can be maintained. The conscience of modern society--so far as vivisection is concerned,--would seem to have "journeyed into a far country." But some day it may return to its own, and ask for an accounting of its trust.

And fifty years hence, if pressed for the proof of great achievement, of grand discoveries, what evidence will then be produced by the vivisection laboratory? How much of wealth will have been devoted to fruitless explorations in desert regions? What vast fortunes will have been paid out to professional explorers, whose work will have been in vain? What proofs will the laboratory then be able to adduce of "priceless discoveries" made within its walls, proofs resting not upon the heated enthusiasm of the experimenter, but demonstrated by statistical evidence of a decreased mortaility from the scourges of disease? THAT is the test of utility, which may one day be applied not merely to Mr. Rockefeller's creation, but to every laboratory in England and America. Then, perhaps, it may not suffice to set forth discoveries, as useless to mankind, as would be the demosntration of gold and silver in the moon. Before the tribunal of an intelligent public opinion,--not of our day, but of some distant epoch, the justification of secret vivisection will assuredly be demanded. Will it be given? Against the vast cost in money, cost in depravation of the instinct of compassion, cost in the lessened sensitiveness of young men and young women to the infliction of torment, cost in the seeming necessity of defending and justifying cruelty, cost in the temptation to exaggerate facts, cost in the countless hecatombs of victims, non-existent to-day, yet doomed to perish in pain of which no record and no use can be found,--against all this, what profit will be adduced? Something? Undoubtedly. BUT SUFFICIENT TO BALANCE THE COST? When that accounting is made, will the enlightened conscience of humanity then grant condonation, because of great achievement, of all that will have been done in the name of research, and of demonstration of well-known facts? I cannot imagine it.

What can we venture to forecast regarding the future of medical school vivisections, made for the one purpose of fixing facts in memory? No one qualified by any experience in teaching can doubt the value of certain demonstrations. So far as they are performed upon animals made absolutely unconscious to any senstation of pain, it is difficult to suggest a condemnation that does not equally apply to the killing of animals for food or raiment. But the medical school laboratory seems to shrink from the public scrutiny. If there were no need for secrecy, is it likely that every attempt to penetrate the seclusion of the laboratory would be so strenuously opposed? OF WHAT IS THE LABORATORY AFRAID? If the present methods of demonstration or teaching of physiology are such as would meet general approval so far as their painlessness is concerned, why fear to make them known? On the other hand, if animals are subjected to prolonged and extreme torment for the illustration of well-known and accepted facts; if students not only witness, but are sometimes required to perform for themselves experiments as agonizing and as useless as any that ever disgraced the torture-chambers of Magendie, we can well understand why immunity from criticism can only be secured by concealment and secrecy. Opposition to publicity or to investigation by the Government is quite conceivable, if there be something which must be hidden out of sight.

In the long-run, the policy of concealment must fail, and the whole truth be known. Then, indeed, we may hope for the beginning of reform. That fifty or a hundred years hence, all utilization of animals, whether for food or raiment or scientific ends will have absolutely ceased in England and America I am not able to believe. But I am very sure that before this century closes, the subjection of animals to pain for the demonstration of well-known facts will have come to an end; that agonizing experiments will have ceased; that every laboratory wherein animals are ever used for experimental purposes will be open to inspection "from cellar to garret," as Professor Bigelow of Harvard Medical School said they should be; and that except as a shield for crime, the secrecy which now enshrouds the practice will for ever have disappeared.

We are living to-day in a period of unrest and change, such as the world has never known before. A new social consciousness has awakened throughout the civilized world, a feeling that for those who are to come after us, life should be happier and better than it is. Humanity is advancing toward its ideals by leaps and bounds, where once it slowly crept. Every social problem, from the prevention of cruelty, the suppression of vice, the rescue of the submerged, to the abolition of poverty itself, is to-day more in the thought of humanity than ever before in the history of the world. We are but just beginning to learn our duties to human beings of other races; may we not be assured that the more sensitive conscience of the future will define with authority, our duties to the humbler sharers of this mysterious gift of life? Already, Science has told us, that far in the past, we had the same origin; and surely, when some higher ideal than utility to ourselves, shall dominate human conduct, there will be a new conception of JUSTICE toward every sentient being. It may mean extinction of species; but it will notmean their torment. You and I cannot hope for life long enough to see the realization of that dream. And yet, sometimes I have wondered whether it be so far distant as I have feared. But a little while ago, who of us could have imagined that in our day, the Government of the United States would listen to the cries of little birds, starving on their nests in the swamps of Florida, and prohibit the importation of the egret plumes? How much of hopefulness for the final triumph of th eprinciples of humaneness lies in the passage of such a law!

I fancy that one day, all noxious animals, and especially those which prery upon other creatures, will largely, if not entirely, disappear. It is calculated that ever grown lion in South Africa kills for food, every year, between 200 and 300 harmless animals, and each one of which is as much entitled as the lion to the happiness of existence. In great museums to-day, we see the remains of creatures, like the sabre-toothed tiger, that lived probably, over a million years ago. In a century or two, hence, the skeletons of the panther, the tiger, the leopard and the lion, will be found in the same halls of science, with those of other extinct species, that could exist only at the expense of others' lives.

Some day the question of vivisection will be merged in the larger problem, the adjustment of man's relations to animals on the basis of JUSTICE. We who are assembled here to-day, certainly are not forgetful of other cruelties than those which pertain to animal experimentation. In the awful torment endured for days by animals caught in steel traps in order that their death may contribute to the adornment of women and the luxury of men; in the killing of seals, accompanied by the starvation of their young; in the great variety of blood-sports; in the slaughter of animals, destined for human food, in all these, as well as in the cruelties that have pertained to physiological inquiries, we see exemplified man's present indifference to the highest ethical ideals. We do not oppose one phase of cruelty; WE OPPOSE THEM ALL. And we may be assured, that when the day dawns in which humanity shall seek to govern conduct by the ideal of universal justice, then in some more blessed age than ours, the evils of vivisection not only, but all phases of cruelty and injustice will for ever cease.