To be honest, most of the time I find plants kind of boring. As a biologist, I’m much more interested in studying animals. They move around and do stuff, while plants just kind of sit there. Except I know that’s not true. There are plenty of biologists out there who are fascinated by plants. I first began to understand why when I watched the time-lapse opening sequence of the Plants episode of BBC’s Life a few years ago. I was captivated. The plants stretched out their leaves and opened their flowers. They seemed to taste the air with their tendrils and explore the soil with their roots. They seemed purposeful and alive in a way that I previously thought only animals could. It suddenly struck me that plants seem boring and inert only because animals and plants live on different time scales. Suddenly I could see that plants do move around and do stuff, just really slowly.
This is the time-lapse sequence that blew my mind.
Another really cool time-lapse clip.
Studying plants is like
studying alien organisms. Animals and plants last shared a common ancestor
about 1.5 billion years ago. Considering that life on earth is about four
billion years old, 1.5 billion years is a long time for plants and animals to
be following separate evolutionary paths. If you ever read science fiction, you
must be familiar with the idea that we need to expect the unexpected when it
comes to alien biology. Maybe these same cautionary tales can be applied to
plants. Animals and plants may be distantly related, but we have evolved to adapt
to some similar challenges. It’s possible we have even come up with analogous
solutions to some of these challenges. When unrelated groups of organisms
evolve similar solutions to a similar problem, this is known as convergent
evolution. The wings of insects and birds or the fins of sharks and dolphins
are two examples of convergent evolution. These adaptations are analogous
solutions which evolved independently. Could it be that plants and animals have
convergently evolved analogous behavioural or sensory mechanisms? Could plants
be said to have anything analogous to intelligence, or pain, or memory? Maybe
we’re thrown off by their form and their slow lifestyle, so alien to our own, so we have trouble
recognizing when our functions converge.
Convergent evolution of Marsupial and Eutherian mammals. They may look and act similarly, but they got that way through convergent evolution, not through being related.
It’s less of an “out
there” idea than you might think. In fact, “plant neurobiology” is a real,
albeit contentious, field of study with real conferences and journals
and labs. Plant neurobiologists recognize that plants don’t
have neurons, but they argue that plants have systems analogous to animal
neurology. Plants use electric signals to communicate between cells. Plants can
be “knocked-out” by the same drugs as are used to anaesthetize humans. Plants
can “smell” and “taste” chemical signals from other plants. They can “see”
light to grow towards it. They can “feel” if their roots hit a rock or a pipe. They
may even be able to “hear”. A recent study found that plants can be
primed to produce defence chemicals only by being exposed to the sound of a caterpillar
munching leaves. There’s some evidence that plants have memory and can learn. They
even have neurotransmitters including serotonin and dopamine, although it’s not
yet clear what their purpose is.
An interesting (but hyperbolically titled) video about electrical signaling and anesthetics in plants.
These findings are all
very interesting, but they’ll probably never tell us in any definitive way
whether plants are intelligent or can feel pain, or at least the plant version
of those things. Then again, we don’t even know for sure if animals are
intelligent or feel pain. Indeed, a few hundred years ago, most scientists
believed that animals had no capacity to suffer and that their cries were
simple physiological cause-and-effect. We now know that animal brains react
analogously to human brains to painful stimulus and similar stress hormones are
produced, and so we infer that they feel pain. We take a more sophisticated
view on animal intelligence and awareness than we did in the early days of
biology. Many agree with Peter Singer’s argument that there’s no black and
white of “intelligent” and “unintelligent” or “aware” and “unaware”. Instead
there are gradients along which every animal individual falls.
We
can never know what it’s like to be another animal, even another human, and so
we can’t know if it’s aware or if it feels pain. Instead, we assume that if it
acts as though it is aware or as if it’s feeling pain, we make the assumption
that it is. For all you know, every other living creature on this Earth could
be a philosophical zombie, a biological automaton with no more inner
life than a rock. The Turing test has gotten some coverage in the media lately, and it operates on the same principle. Alan Turing argued that
if we can’t tell a computer from a human when we interact (talk) with it, then
we should apply the same logic to computers as we do to humans, we should
assume that the computer is self-aware and intelligent. We just can’t access
the inner life (be it existent or non-existent) of another being, so we’re
forced to infer based on the behaviour and physiology we observe.
What
can we infer from the behaviour and physiology of plants? Certainly it would be
absurd to argue that they have the same intelligence or capacity to experience
pain or memory as a human. But cognitive traits exist on spectrums. Plants are “aware”
of the world to some degree in that they have at least as many senses as
animals. Plants have “intelligence” to some degree in that they are
phenotypically plastic – individuals can response appropriately to changes in
their environment. They can “make decisions” to some degree in that individuals
need to “choose” between, say, growing a root towards the left or the right.
Plants have chemical “languages” they use to communicate between individuals.
Plants respond to damaging stimulus in a way that’s loosely analogous to animal
pain response by producing chemicals and sending electrical signals.
You might argue that it’s
semantics and that plants are so unintelligent that it’s silly to even call it “intelligence”,
even with quotation marks. Or to say they are “aware” or “make decisions”. But
I think there’s an important point to be made here: the difference between
human beings and all other living things is one of degree, not of kind. We once
thought that only humans have intelligence; only humans can suffer; only humans
have a whole host of traits. If you go back in time enough in the certain areas
of the world, you could even replace “human” with “white human”. But every
generation our understanding of the pervasiveness of traits we once thought
were the sole domain of humankind grows. Maybe as science continues to progress
we’ll come to realise that plants too have the capacity for certain traits we
now believe only animals can possess.
I’ll
admit that this post is only (very) tangentially related to veganism. Let
me try to connect it back as best I can. I was just thinking about whether the
animal rights argument for vegetarianism or veganism makes sense. If animals
have the capacity to suffer then we shouldn’t eat them, is the argument. Then I
was thinking about how we can’t know if any living being suffers or doesn’t
suffer. We need to make assumptions. I wondered the science that’s out there
about plant pain, and whether it could exist. I spend all morning reading about
it because I thought it was fascinating! Don’t get me wrong; even if plants
could be said to be “intelligent” or “suffer” I don’t think we should be
launching some sort of plant rights campaign. I think we need to deal with the
serious amount of human suffering on this planet before we even think of
starting any questionable new project. Instead, it’s an interesting
thought experiment and a possibly fruitful avenue of research.
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