
By Marc Bekoff, Excerpted from his book “Jane Goodall at 90”
Although Koen and I have worked together with Jane on various projects over many years, we have different histories with her and I, as a world-renowned ethologist, behavioral ecologist, and champion of compassionate conservation, have this to say:
Back in the early 1970s when I was a graduate student at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri, I’d heard about Jane Goodall going off to live with the chimpanzees of Gombe. I also knew of her husband at the time, the renowned National Geographic photographer Hugo van Lawick. I’d already read Jane’s wonderful and groundbreaking monograph on the behavior of free-living chimpanzees in the Gombe Stream Reserve, and it was clear that she was well on the way to making a difference in how animals were studied and the ways in which people referred to them. I pocketed those perspectives, and they have always been in my head and heart in my own studies over the past four-plus decades.
In fall of 1971, when I was still in graduate school, an unexpected visitor showed up at my home in St. Louis after letting me know he was traveling around the country. It was Hugo. He stayed there for a few days and shared his bed with Moses, a huge white malamute. Hugo and I had long chats about animal behavior, the importance of observing identified individuals over long periods of time, and what Jane was accomplishing – despite a large number of skeptics. It’s well-known that Jane’s seminal observations of David Greybeard using a tool were met with skepticism until she showed a video of this amazing behavior.
Yes, that was an exciting discovery, but Jane’s methods and approaches to animal behavior were what I really found so astonishing – starting with her habit of naming the awesome chimpanzees she studied and stressing their individual personalities. She always felt that every individual counts, not only among the animals she was studying but also when working with people who were concerned about saving other species and their homes. At the time, naming and recognizing individuality were not standard operating procedure in studies of animal behavior, most of which were conducted in artificial situations in various sorts of captive settings. “Naming animals is too subjective and it’ll influence how data are explained,” I was told, and individual differences were “noise in the system,” while talking about animal personalities was fraught with error. At the time, most researchers engaged in normative thinking about other animals and liked to talk about “the dog,” “the coyote,” “the chimpanzee,” or “the elephant.” Subsequent research has shown how wrong they were. My Ph.D. mentor, Michael Fox, fully supported what Jane was doing. He also fully supported me when colleagues in our department said I couldn’t name the animals I was studying nor should I be talking about personalities. How unscientific it was, they said: Animals should be numbered and only humans had personalities.
I was vulnerable, of course, as a mere graduate student, but I had Jane’s example to support me. I knew that Jane had refused to change the ways in which she referred to the chimpanzees, and I too refused to change. In the end, it worked. And, over the past forty some-odd years, Jane has been proven to be right on the mark. Science has changed, and we are now allowed to consider animals as subjects, not objects, and to recognize that their individual personalities are extremely important to study.
I met Jane on a few occasions during the 1970s and 1980s, and in 1999 we got together when she was in Boulder, staying at the home of a mutual friend. We hit it off, wrote a few essays together, and then worked together on a book that was published in 2002 called The Ten Trusts: What We Must Do to Care For the Animals We Love, that has been published in a number of foreign languages. Working with Jane on that book and on other pieces was a true joy, and despite her horrific travel schedule she always was there for talking and faxing. Jane has this uncanny ability to give her full attention to someone despite being pulled here and there. Jane and I also cofounded Ethologists for the Ethical Treatment of Animals: Citizens for Responsible Animal Behavior Studies in July 2000.
When we began working together Jane wasn’t using email. How could that be? What a pain it was. We often crossed paths through faxing or phoning, and when I awoke and began working at around 4 in the morning, Jane was eating her typical small lunch or having tea with her sister, Judy, and other friends. I also began to work closely with Jane’s Roots & Shoots program as a roving ambassador, because I, too, travel all over the world – though not as much as Jane, of course. I work with youngsters, senior citizens, and inmates. Many of the students in my class at the Boulder County Jail are exceptional writers and artists, and their creative activities bring them a lot of joy and hope.
Below is a drawing of Fifi, one of Jane’s favorite chimpanzees, by Geoff, a student in my class on animal behavior and conservation at the Boulder Coun- ty jail. It won an award at an art context to which I submitted it.
How Jane continues to do what she does blows my mind, and she is still going strong as she turns 90 years old. I share fully Jane’s belief that every individual counts and that everyone can make a positive difference in the lives of other animals and in saving their homes.
Jane clearly is one of the most influential scientists and spokespersons for animals in history. She also has been a tireless advocate for humans. Sometimes I hear people say she really isn’t a scientist, and how wrong they are. Her original monograph is a classic, as is her later monograph – the encyclopedic tome called The Chimpanzees of Gombe published in 1986 summarizing much (though by no means all) of what she had learned about chimpanzees in her first twenty to twenty-five years of research. Jane also works closely with human animals because she understands there’s no way to work for nonhumans without figuring out how humans can peacefully coexist with them.
On the personal side of things, Jane and I share a passion for good single malt scotch, and when we meet here and there, I always bring a small flask of what she calls “cough medicine.”
Suffice it to say, Dr. Jane has influenced my life in many, many ways, and I am thrilled to count her as a close friend and to contribute to celebrating her 90th birthday. Thank you, Jane, for what you have done, and are continuing to do, for all animals, nonhuman and human, and for their homes. I carry you and your messages in my heart and will continue to do so forever.
Lots of love,
Marc




