Counting the Cost Again: the 2019 Numbers

The numbers for UK animal-research procedures completed during 2019 have now been published by the Home Office. The total was a little over 3.4 million, a fall of 3% on the previous year. That means that there has been a modest decline in the total every year since 2015, tending to correct the brisk upward tendency which began after the year 2001, when the number was 2.62 million. We’re now back at any rate to pre-2010 levels. In fact, 2019’s total is, as the Home Office text says, “the lowest number of procedures since 2007”.

Back in 2001, that 2.62 million number was the lowest total since the 1986 Act had been passed, the lowest in fact since the mid-1950s. The notable fact was modestly presented in that year’s report as the first of fourteen ‘main points’ in ordinary black type, after eleven pages of general introductory matter. By contrast, this year’s achievement appears in a special box of ‘key results’ on page one, a three-colour affair enriched with graphics of various kinds, the numbers being set in eye-catching 36 point type. Why not? It makes navigation of the essential information that much easier. But of course it also quite changes the reading experience. The feeling you get is that the Home Office, rather than merely allowing you to know all this, as in earlier days, actually wants you to know: wants you to know that the numbers have gone down, certainly, but also, it seems, that 57% of the procedures were made for the purpose of ‘basic research’ – not obviously a point to boast about, but getting the same vibrant treatment in that text-box. The remainder of the report is laid out in a similarly easy-read style.

No doubt it’s partly the ‘Concordat effect’ that we’re seeing, and have been seeing gradually over the last few years of these government reports: the fashion, that is, for a more bullish PR, which celebrates rather than apologises for animal research, cleverly extolling at the same time both its claimed great achievements and the promise to do as little of it as possible. It’s also, I suspect, a response to the two-yearly Ipsos Mori surveys of attitudes to animal research (the next one is or was due this year: see notes below for previous ones). These surveys habitually find that respondents consider themselves ill-informed about animal research and regard the institutions that practice or supervise it as secretive and untrustworthy. “Come See Our World!” is how the promotional organisation Americans for Medical Progress title their digital introduction to the wonders of animal research. It’s a slogan which the Home Office now seems to have adopted too.

Here, anyway, are a few points about that world, as it was in 2019.

Regulatory testing:

This is probably the most unsavoury class of procedure, conducted to satisfy national or international laws of one kind or another. It continues to make up about one quarter of all the experimental (as opposed to GA animal-breeding) work. It’s the industrial end of animal research, involving the mass through-put of animals in standard testing regimes. The products and devices being tested include medical therapies, but also pesticides and other lethal products, and the techniques used for testing them still include, astonishingly, the ruthless LD50 AND LC50 tests. Accordingly this category of research is consistently the worst for animal suffering. In other experimental work, about 4% of the procedures are usually counted as ‘severe’; in 2019, the rate for regulatory testing was 10.8%. We are told (on page 14) that ‘severe’ procedures are those which cause “a major departure from the animal’s usual state of health and well-being”. Since all sixteen of the “eye irritation/corrosion” procedures conducted on rabbits in 2019 were classified as ‘mild’, and there is an intermediate category ‘moderate’, we can form some idea of how major that departure has to be.

Moreover, it’s in regulatory testing that the largest numbers of specially protected animal species appear (“animal species appear”! you see how numbers and tables push the mind towards abstractions): for instance, 3002 dogs (85% of the year’s total) and 2426 monkeys (71% of the total). Not that mice aren’t the most numerous species here as elsewhere: 437,124 of them were used in 2019.

Protection of the natural environment:

Most classes of animal research have shared to a greater or lesser degree in the reduction of numbers last year; even the breeding of GA animals, which has been mainly responsible for the increase since 2001, shrank by that same 3%. One class which noticeably did not shrink was ‘Protection of the natural environment’. This accounted for 13,074 animals in 2018, but for 29,343 in 2019. The animals included 5821 horses and “other ungulates”, 898 birds, and 22,079 fishes. It’s a category of research distinct (at least for statistical purposes) from regulatory testing and from general toxicology. The primary purpose is to understand the health implications of pollutants in the environment, but a common associated aim is the conservation of species and ecosystems: looking after animals, then!

An article about this sort of research, published in the journal Disease Models and Mechanisms earlier this year, conceded that epidemiology, the comparative study of whole populations, “can provide strong statistical inference linking chemical exposure to disease.” But that’s not enough; to understand the ‘mechanism’ of the harm being done, it has to be animal research. In fact the article is titled ‘Casting a wide net: use of diverse model organisms to advance toxicology’. You’ll notice the ambivalence of that last word: what’s to be advanced is both our understanding of poisons, and the scientific discipline called toxicology. This latter aim is the real subject of the article, whose authors wish “to shift the perception of toxicology as an applied science to that of a basic science” and thereby to “enrich the field”. This, they believe, can best be done by relying less on mice and rats, and resolving instead to “utilize diverse model systems”, especially fish (so “casting a wide net” turns out to be a sort of pun; don’t forget that science can be fun!). After all, they say, “The tree of life is vast”; why confine ourselves to “a few distinct branches”?

It’s a classic instance of scientistic thinking: calling in big science to fix the effects, while leaving the causes untouched. (We see it happening also in the case of Covid-19.) More to the point here, the article reminds us that there are always strong professional interests bound up in the growth (and resistant to the contraction) of any branch of scientific research, including those that use animals. That jump to 29,343 will have been good for some.

Roadmaps to nowhere:

Yet in fact both these classes of animal research, regulatory testing and protection of the environment, as well as toxicology more generally, should be especially amenable to non-animal technologies. That was indeed the main aim of a project set up in 2015 with the publication of a document entitled A non-animal technologies roadmap for the UK: advancing predictive biology. It was a collaboration between various government-sponsored agencies (including the National Centre for the 3Rs), academia, and industry, whose purpose was to promote the development and marketing of ‘NATs’ (surely a good sign that it seemed worth abbreviating ‘non-animal technologies’). The thinking was frankly commercial (further evidence of real purposefulness, sad to say): “The market potential is huge”, said the ‘Executive summary’. Correspondingly, the stated objections to animal testing were pragmatic, not ethical: its failure to predict for humans had “far-reaching implications, from wasted resources . . . to large financial losses”. As the trendy word ‘roadmap’ implies, this was a programme for the future rather than a survey; it was described in business-speak as “stretching towards a 2030 vision”.

Since we’re a third of the way along that road now, you’d expect the toxicology numbers to be showing some effect; you’d at least expect them not to have grown. But then I can find no surviving trace of the NATs project among all the other ‘roadmap’ projects boosting themselves online. What’s happened to it? The NC3Rs makes the document available on its web-site, but seems to have said nothing further about it since the day of publication. Another of the collaborating agencies, the Medical Research Council, makes no mention of it at all. More eloquently, the Medical Research Council’s laboratories were second only to the huge Francis Crick Institute as users of animals in research in 2019 (Oxford University came third).

That abandoned roadmap was part of an official programme of reform devised during the period of the Coalition government in the UK – largely the effect of having, however briefly, a minister in charge of animals in science who really wished to get them out: Norman Baker. Two other substantial publications had set out the aims of the programme and the progress being made: in 2014 there was Working to reduce the use of animals in research, and this was followed a year later, as promised in its text, by a review of progress titled Delivery Report. In fact the promise had been to publish such reviews “regularly thereafter”. But no others have appeared.

The number of animals used in 2015 was 4.14 million, the largest number since the 1986 act came into force. There’s been a 17% reduction since that high point – a return, as mentioned, to 2007 levels. Perhaps we must regard that much progress as the finished legacy of the Coalition programme, and now we’re left again with optimistic reassurances and pious references to the 3Rs. God knows there was nothing radical about that programme, but it had serious intention. To have let it lapse is a shameful delinquency.

 

Notes and references:

The report for 2019 and the separate tables of numbers can be accessed from this page: https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/statistics-of-scientific-procedures-on-living-animals-great-britain-2019 .

The Ipsos Mori surveys for 2016 and 2018 are reviewed in this blog here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2016/09/26/animal-pains-and-human-attitudes-the-new-ipsos-mori-survey/

https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/the-magic-sound-of-figures/

The Americans for Medical Progress digital tour of animal research was briefly reviewed in this blog here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2017/08/28/come-see-our-worlds/

Among the various responses to the statistics, the one from Fund for the Replacement of Animals in Medical Experiments is especially authoritative. It talks about the Coalition publications, which were also touched on in this blog when Norman Baker was the subject, here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2015/09/30/vero-invites-the-greatest-man-in-politics-to-speak-in-oxford/

The article ‘Casting a wide net: use of diverse model organisms to advance toxicology’ was published in April of this year, and can be read here: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7132827/

These are the three Coalition documents discussed above:

Working to reduce the use of animals in research (2014: quoted above from p.9): https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/working-to-reduce-the-use-of-animals-in-research-delivery-plan

Working to reduce the use of animals in scientific research: Delivery Report (2015): https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/417441/Delivery_Report_2015.pdf

A non-animal technologies roadmap for the UK: advancing predictive biology (2015: quoted at pp. 4 & 6): https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/474558/Roadmap_NonAnimalTech_final_09Nov2015.pdf

Where Oxford’s At: News from the Forefront

Oxford University has posted its animal research statistics for 2019, showing a total of 229,163 ‘procedures’. Most of these animals were mice (222,206), but there were also rats, ferrets, fish, guinea pigs, junglefowl (7 of these), and non-human primates (8). This 2019 total shows a rise of 4% over last year’s, and is the second highest at Oxford in the period since numbers became available in 2007. The highest was recorded in 2017 (236,429). Some UK universities that use animals in research have not yet posted their equivalent numbers, but Oxford will certainly head the list for quantity, with Edinburgh (198,517) probably second, and University College London (186,424) third.

As to the PSDLH (it’s a new Home Office abbreviation for “pain, suffering, distress or lasting harm”), only about 0.5% of the procedures at Oxford came into the ‘severe’ category. However, three out of the eight monkeys did. That comes as something of a surprise, since a paragraph on this same page headed ‘What is done to primates?’ gives a quite attractive account of their admittedly brief lives. Many of them apparently find the OU primatecomputer games which test their learning and memory powers “stimulating”. After surgery to remove “a very small amount of brain tissue”, the monkeys are “up and about again within hours” – a nice suggestion of bustle and purpose. The brain damage itself is “minor and unnoticeable in normal behaviour”. And so on. The photograph which is used to illustrate this tonic account (as reproduced here) seems likewise to discredit it, but perhaps the image is intended to represent active curiosity rather than despondency.

In previous years, the VERO blog has presented in tabular form much of the year’s statistical information, but there seems little point to that (a link to the page is provided in the notes below). These tables of numbers are always subtly misleading, since the larger numbers seem actually to depreciate the lives being counted: the seven chickens are more conceivable than the hundreds of thousands of mice. Then the numbers are misleading also in the appearance they give of dealing with an intelligible and consistent unit, the ‘procedure’. To some extent the university’s account gets round this problem by making clear that the number of procedures in 2019 was exactly the same as the number of animals: so animals are the real unit, and of course we know what they are. The fact remains that although a procedure may be something as slight as an injection, a point habitually made in animal research PR, it may also be a whole course of injections, yet still count as one unit. Oxford’s vaccine trials, for instance, take blood monthly from rhesus macaque monkeys. And of course there are procedures very much more gruelling than an injection. Counting by animals does nothing to clarify the haze over what really happens.

The severity categories do provide some guidance, since the Home Office requires that judgements as to category must “relate to both the duration and intensity of pain, suffering or distress.” Thus “prolonged suffering at a mild level should be considered [i.e. classified as] moderate, and prolonged suffering at moderate should be considered severe”, unless there is adequate time for recovery “between procedures”, or even for “habituation” on the part of the animal. The Home Office does, you see, grapple with this problem, but note the plural ‘procedures’, referring as it does to the experience of one animal and therefore to one countable procedure. So much for the procedure as a unit. It’s not a unit; it’s an undeclared collective.

The Oxford University numbers, then, are only modestly informative. Moreover, they necessarily leave uncounted the animal research which is implied in the university’s work but is done at other institutions, perhaps by private UK companies, or perhaps – science being an international collaborative enterprise – at laboratories elsewhere in the world. See, for instance, the university’s recent research on Covid-19. A New York Times news story about that research on 27 April, under the characteristically excitable heading ‘In Race for a Coronavirus Vaccine, an Oxford Group Leaps Ahead’, told how a vaccine prepared at Oxford was being tested at the Rocky Mountain Laboratory in Montana, an establishment belonging to America’s National Institutes of Health. Scientists there, the New York Times said,

inoculated six rhesus macaque monkeys with single doses of the Oxford vaccine. The animals were then exposed to heavy quantities of the virus that is causing the pandemic – exposure that had consistently sickened other monkeys in the lab. But more than 28 days later, all six were healthy, said Vincent Munster [no relation], the researcher who conducted the test.

You’ll notice that this one brief testing project used at least as many monkeys as Oxford University have declared for the whole of 2019, and under a much laxer ethical regime. Whether Oxford actually requested this research or even repudiated it is not stated; either way it will have formed part of the research history of the vaccine.

Oxford’s own numbers haven’t changed much over the last five years – a few percentage up or down each year, with no discernible direction of travel. Contrary to the university’s assurances at the time, the new Biomedical Sciences Building did boost animal research after 2008, and was no doubt intended to, but now the numbers seem to have steadied. But of course there’s nothing stationary in Oxford’s science scene otherwise. Two very recent news stories illustrate the point.

Just last month the university announced a gift of funds from the firm Bulgari, purveyor of “perfumes that exude elegance” and other necessaries to the exceedingly rich. This money will fund two research positions and some scientific equipment, all related to the study and creation of vaccines. Another donation very recently announced was £80 million from the Reuben Foundation, which will support the founding of a whole new graduate college. It will be called Reuben College and will specialize in the sciences, including artificial intelligence.

These two windfalls are just the newsworthier moments in a general story of constant enlargement of science at Oxford, whose cityscape is characterized as much  by cranes as by spires these days, neither of them doing much dreaming. It means – to take the good news first – that animal research at Oxford is, proportionately, diminishing. Diminishing at present, that is: because – the more ominous implication – this boom in science might easily (would certainly, if controls and opposition were relaxed) come back round to animal research.

At the moment most of Oxford’s science news is naturally enough about Covid-19, and we’re told in the web-pages dedicated to it that “Researchers across the University are at the forefront of global efforts to understand the coronavirus”. These ‘Coronavirus Research’ pages include, somewhat incongruously, an interview with a professor of English, perhaps mainly to justify that phrase “across the University” (with its pleasant echo of a Beatles song). The piece is titled ‘Catastrophe, not war stories: how the Covid-19 crisis will be written?’ It’s good to see the humanities playing their part in keeping Oxford at the forefront of global efforts but, not surprisingly, the professor couldn’t really say what sort of fiction will be written about the pandemic, or indeed anything else very enlightening. She did suggest that, using war stories as our model, we should expect a “lag” before any such fiction appeared. Not too much of a lag, let’s hope, or the Covid pandemic may have been superseded, if there’s truth in a news story from China a week ago:

A new flu virus found in Chinese pigs has become more infectious to humans and needs to be watched closely in case it becomes a potential ‘pandemic virus’ . . . although experts said there is no imminent threat.

Well, well! Perhaps the university should send its experimental psychologists to that Covid forefront, and set them to understanding, not coronavirus itself, but this strange refusal of the species Homo sapiens to live up to the name it chose for itself.

 

Notes and references:

The main page for information about animal research at Oxford University, from which the above numbers and quotations are taken, is here: http://www.ox.ac.uk/news-and-events/animal-research/research-using-animals-an-overview

The quoted Home Office guidance on severity categories appears in ‘Advisory notes’ published on 1 January 2014, and can be accessed here: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/276014/NotesActualSeverityReporting.pdf

The New York Times report is online here: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/27/world/europe/coronavirus-vaccine-update-oxford.html

For its brand-name, Bulgari uses a spelling which only makes sense in Roman capitals, Bvlgari, a pretentious device which the university’s press release religiously follows. The quotation is from Bulgari’s web-site, of course.

The news of Oxford’s work on Covid-19, including the quoted interview, is featured online here: https://www.research.ox.ac.uk/Area/coronavirus-research

The quotation about a new flu virus comes from France 24’s online news serve here: https://www.france24.com/en/20200630-chinese-researchers-warn-of-new-flu-virus-in-pigs-with-human-pandemic-risk

The 2018 numbers at Oxford University were reviewed in this blog here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2019/04/15/oxfords-annual-numbers-with-added-mistakes/

The photograph of a rhesus macaque monkey in the Biomedical Sciences Building is reproduced with permission of the university’s Public Affairs Office.

Counting the Animals again

The Home Office has now published its Annual Statistics of Scientific Procedures on Living Animals, Great Britain for 2018. Here is VERO’s selective summary of the numbers and species, alongside those of 2017 (which seem to have been slightly revised since they were published last year), with some comments to follow:

 Species  Number used in 2018  Number used in 2017
 Mice   2,568,197    2,781,685
 Fish   454,340    514,059
 Rats   177,904    241,544
 Domestic fowl   141,069    125,280
 Sheep    53,672    47,499
 Guinea Pigs    6,445    22,560
 Horses    10,424    10,600
 Rabbits    11,159    10,362
 Dogs    4,481     3,847
 Non-human primates    3,127     2,962
 Other species    89,099     28,975
 Total:   3,519,917   3,789,373

Direction of travel: You may notice that there has been a fall of about 7% in the numbers since last year. You certainly will notice it if you read the Home Office report itself, since the point is made twice in the first four pages, as is also the fact that this is the lowest number since 2007 (a fact highlighted in attractive purple each time). There has been a fall in each of the last three years, so perhaps it is now possible to detect a real and very welcome downwards trend after years of more or less steady increase. Still, there is a long way to go (to go back), for even this 2018 number is about 34% greater than the number recorded in 2001.

Particular species: There has been a fall in numbers for most species, but you’ll see that two of those which have special protection under the 1986 Act have not enjoyed a share in it: dogs and non-human primates. The sad thing is that these animals are mainly used in so-called ‘regulatory testing’, the most patently unpleasant category of research, and one which has always had the worst severity ratings: this year, 12.5% of the procedures were classified as ‘severe’ (i.e. the top pain rating), compared to about 2% of the procedures for ‘basic’ research. Dogs (which mercifully don’t appear in the ‘severe’ category this year) and primates are used primarily for the testing of human and veterinary ‘medical products’, by the method called ‘repeated dose toxicity’. Other animals in this category of research may be required to test industrial chemicals, biocides, animal feeds (this, we’re told, is “for the safety of target animals, workers and environment”, so God knows what these feeds contain), and an unspecified ‘other’, in which again both dogs and primates feature.

The testing methods used on the less-protected animals still include the notorious LD50 and LC50 tests, as well as unspecified ‘other lethal methods’. That word ‘other’ acquires a sinister character in these records, but “other lethal” is an illogical category anyway, since all or nearly all this laboriously counted work is lethal in the not-so-long run for the animals, even when they are not killed by the product itself.

The 10,000 or so procedures on horses recorded in this Home Office report (up 19% since 2009) appear likewise mainly in this ‘regulatory’ category, although in fact the horses are being used not for testing but for the routine production of blood derivatives. You can see some of the uses to which this blood is put being advertised on the web-site of TCS Biosciences (“your partner: For Life”). In the USA, these uses include the keeping of farmed sows regularly in heat, by means of ‘Pregnant Mare Serum Gonadotropin’. I mention this as one stray and disgusting instance of the way that animal research serves and therefore promotes high-tech animal farming. Scientists often compare the animal costs of their work favourably with the suffering and death-rate in agriculture; it’s a defence they have been using ever since they discovered that vivisection required defending. But the distinction is altogether disingenuous: farming as now practised would not have been possible, let alone profitable, without the steady support of laboratory science.

Democracy at work, or not: The 1986 Animals (Scientific Procedures) Act requires the Home Office to “publish and lay before Parliament” these annual statistics in order that the people, acting through their representatives, can knowingly assent to them. In practice this assent is assumed rather than annually petitioned for. Some challenges there are, of course. ‘Early Day Motions’ may be tabled, in which MPs express their dissent: at present there is one such (EDM 66), signed by 63 MPs and calling for “a thorough, properly moderated public scientific debate on the misleading and costly practice of trying to apply results from animal experiments to human patients.” Or questions may be put to ministers; for instance, on 3 September 2018, the excellent (and vegan) MP Kerry McCarthy asked about the increased use of horses for blood collection, as mentioned above. Much more rarely there are dedicated debates, the most recent of them on 5 February 2013, held in Westminster Hall and simply titled ‘Animal Experiments’.

But the lack of a proper departmental home and a dedicated minister for all animal subjects means that no great momentum is ever created out of these haphazard initiatives. Animal research alone is dealt with in fragments by at least three major departments: the Home Office, the Department for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy, and the Department of Health and Social Care. It’s a situation tragi-comically reflected in the name of the Home Office agency responsible for putting out these annual statistics: the Fire, Licensing and Public Order Analysis Unit.

In the absence of sustained parliamentary fuss, these statistics and the exploitation of animals which they dimly shadow have come to seem like a sort of natural or at least sociological phenomenon, rather than a deliberate moral choice. The Home Office report itself sets the style for that way of viewing them. Surveying the variations in numbers over the years since 1987, it provides this helpful explanation: “The number of procedures carried out on living animals is determined by several factors, including the focus of scientific and medical endeavours, the economic climate and global trends in new technologies or fields of research.” No one’s really in charge, then; we’re all just bystanders. And it then becomes reasonable to take the view noted in this blog when last year’s statistics were published: that is, that big numbers are actually an indication that all’s well in UK life-science research – or, as one promotional organisation has said this time round, “Year-to-year numbers are thus best seen as a reflection of the current health of UK bioscience investment and will fluctuate year-on-year.”

Fluctuate! We’re a very long way here not just from the pains of the animals whom these statistics are nominally about, but also from the moral purpose clearly though imperfectly put into political effect in the 1986 Act and the 2010 European Directive. For them, downward was the desired and proper direction, not an accident of economics.

Well, it’s true that counting animals is not the essence of animal rights, but falling numbers are emphatically better than rising numbers, and if the present trend in that direction is to be kept going we need to remind our political representatives (even at this least propitious of political times) to keep the subject controversial. Many MPs really do mind about animals, and even more of them know that their constituents do. To illustrate as much, here is an MP speaking about animal research back in 1971, at the high point of vivisection numbers in the UK, just preceding the long fall towards 2001: “I know that the object is to preserve human life; but it does make me wonder whether a human race that can take such morally degrading practices in its stride is really worth preserving.”  OU primate

Yes, that’s the proper context in which to view and debate these annual statistics.

 

 

 

Notes and references:

The Annual Statistics can be found here (the quotation comes from p.5): https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/818578/annual-statistics-scientific-procedures-living-animals-2018.pdf

The tables of data are now published separately, and are linked here: https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/statistics-of-scientific-procedures-on-living-animals-great-britain-2018

Information about the farming of horses for blood comes from this web-site: https://www.thedodo.com/turning-horse-blood-into-profits-1382177497.html

A transcript of the Westminster Hall debate can be read here: https://hansard.parliament.uk/Commons/2013-02-05/debates/13020535000001/AnimalExperiments

The parliamentary briefing document, titled Animal Experiment Statistics, was published on 25 April: a summary of it is available here, with a link to the full pdf version provided at the end: https://researchbriefings.parliament.uk/ResearchBriefing/Summary/SN02720#fullreport

The quotation about “year-to-year numbers” is from the Speaking of Research web-site here: https://speakingofresearch.com/2019/07/22/great-britain-releases-2018-statistics-on-animals-used-in-research/

Unfortunately I don’t know who the last-mentioned MP was: he or she is quoted without name or reference by Desmond Morris in his book Intimate Behaviour (Jonathan Cape, 1971), p.183.

The photograph of a rhesus macaque monkey in Oxford University’s Biomedical Sciences Building, probably himself long since an annual statistic, is used by courtesy of the university’s Public Affairs Office.

 

Oxford’s Annual Numbers, with Added Mistakes

The statistics for Oxford University’s animal research in 2018 have now been made public on the University’s web-site. Here is VERO’s summary, showing the numbers for each species (with 2017 for comparison), and then the severity of the ‘procedures’ involved. A few comments follow the two tables.

Total number of experimental procedures, by species:

 Species  Number in 2017  Number in 2018
 Mice      229,640        208,057
 Fishes          3,852            8002
 Rats          2,599           2,913
 Junglefowl               21              291
 Frogs            155                89
 Guinea Pigs              80                81
 Badgers              39                64
 Pigs                5                20
 Ferrets              29                24
 Non-Human Primates                7                10
 Rabbits                2                  0
 Total:     236,429       219,551

 

Severity of procedures (for those species where moderate or above was recorded):

Species  Severe  Moderate  Mild  Sub-threshold  Non-recovery
 Mice   1,889    35,903   49,730       117,743       2,792
 Fishes      298      1,236    5,127           1,211          130
 Rats        37         622       427           1,150          677
 Ferrets          0             9         0                  0            15
Non-Human Primates          0             9         1                  0              0

 

The total number: 219,551 represents a fall of just over 7% on last year’s total. This is welcome, of course, but unfortunately it can’t be taken as part of a trend. Last year’s number had shown a rise of 8.5% on 2016. Like the value of investments (and one might pursue other similarities), these numbers may go down as well as up, but the clear trend since the completion of the new laboratory has been upward. The number for 2007, which was the last complete year before the laboratory opened for business, was 155,901.

Animals killed without experiments: No number has yet been published for these animals in 2018. Perhaps it won’t ever be given, since a number was provided for 2017 last year, and for some reason the law only requires such animals to be counted in every fifth year. But it’s a very important number, and ought always to be included in the returns. That’s partly because the number is to some extent an index to the efficiency of a laboratory, unpleasant as that word ‘efficiency’ is in this context. But also, the need to do and publish this count is a helpful corrective to the assumption, which the 1986 Act otherwise makes and therefore encourages, that killing an animal is not in itself a significant wrong. That assumption has been frequently noticed in other parts of this blog. It’s not one we humans make for ourselves; I can’t think of any sound reason for making it in the case of other animals.

Science or PR: Last year’s commentary in this blog on the annual Oxford numbers included a critical appreciation of the University’s animal-research web-pages, or at least of the main page, which is titled ‘Research Using Animals: an Overview’. Very little on that page has changed since then, except the just-published numbers. However, the sentence which introduces numbers is new, and here it is:

Figures for 2018 show numbers of animals ‘on procedure’, as declared to the Home Office using their five categories for the severity of the procedure.

This short and functional statement manages to fit in two plain errors. The first error is to speak of numbers of animals rather than numbers of ‘procedures’. The statistics submitted to the Home Office, or separately published as here, are always a count-up of procedures and not of animals. True, this makes very little difference in practice (although the two numbers can differ if, for instance, an animal is re-used in a new research project); it may therefore seem a pedantic distinction, especially since neither way of counting really tells us very much, as this blog has often enough shown. But the point is that nobody who has had anything to do with conducting or reporting the research would make such a mistake. When Cruelty Free International rather carelessly made a similar mistake a few years back, Speaking of Research (a scientists’ pressure-group promoting animal research) called it “a rookie mistake for an organisation which claims to be an authority on the issue”. Oxford University surely is an authority on its own research. How then does it let through a mistake like this?

The second error shows a similar confusion. The animals in the count are said to be “on procedure”, a professional-sounding term perhaps borrowed from lower down on the ‘Overview’ page where it refers to non-human primates undergoing brain research. But the term means ‘research unfinished’, whereas the annual count is precisely of completed research. It used once to be a count of proposed and accepted procedures (the change, a sensible one, came in 2014), but it was never a count of procedures under way at time of counting.

Again, it may not seem to matter much, though in this case it would be a very awkward way of doing things. But the confusion in both cases makes clear that these annual numbers are being introduced by someone who knows only the jargon of the subject, and also that nobody with better knowledge is being asked to check what’s written, or cares to do so on their own initiative. In short, it’s simply a PR job, and not a very good one.

Last year’s commentary showed that the whole ‘Overview’ text evidences the same sort of amateur authorship. Presumably we can treat the annual numbers themselves as reliable, but there’s no reason to accept as true or authoritative anything else said on the animal research web-pages. This isn’t university science speaking (or even bothering to have read). We needn’t spend any more time on it ourselves, then.

 

Notes and references:

Oxford University’s main animal-research web-page, including the annual numbers, is this one: http://www.ox.ac.uk/news-and-events/animal-research/research-using-animals-an-overview

Last year’s Oxford numbers were reviewed in this blog here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2018/04/13/a-record-breaking-years-work-in-the-lab/   See also https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2018/06/08/on-the-trail-of-an-untruth/

The comment made by Speaking of Research appeared as part of a rather bumptious but not inaccurate critique of Cruelty Free International’s own publicity. It was posted in April 2017, and can be read here: https://speakingofresearch.com/2017/04/11/disappointing-lack-of-context-by-cruelty-free-international-as-worst-press-release-on-animal-testing-numbers-is-revealed/

Your Christmas Reading Done for You

By way of confirmation that Christmas approaches, the facebook page of Understanding Animal Research (UAR) is counting down the days with a festive sequence based on ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’: “On the nth day of Christmas researchers sent to me …” It’s true that the well-worn carol really refers to the days after the 25th, but this is light-hearted entertainment after all, and it helps to show that animal research can be fun – or promoting it can be, anyway! So with much jingling and stardust, a rat in a lab coat stands by a Christmas tree and gratefully receives such amusingly pertinent things as “approval by ethics committee” (the “partridge in a pear tree” equivalent) or “six knockout mice”.

Tearing oneself away from this merriment, there are more straight-faced things happening in the profession at this time of year. There’s the annual awards ceremony associated with UAR’s Concordat on Openness on Animal Research, and although that’s a sort of school prize-day that interests only the school itself, the Concordat’s annual report is published to coincide with it, and this document genuinely is a sign of the times worth attending to. Then, in the wider world of animal research, there’s the annual report from the Animals in Science Regulation Unit (ASRU), the organisation responsible for licensing, inspecting, and policing such work. This report too has just been published, though it actually reviews 2017. And more portentous still, a parliamentary ‘statutory instrument’ has now been issued which will disjoin the UK’s law – the Animals (Scientific Procedures) Act 1986 – from that of the EU, with which it has been harmonized since 2012.

VERO has perused all these and some other newly published texts, and here is a view of what they amount to. Do your best to attend: this jungle of words is where millions of animals have to live, however briefly.

First, a stray and very specific publication from the Home Office, short-titled Additional Statistics. Here, we are finally told how many animals die in labs without ever appearing in the statistics of ‘procedures’. These are the animals (mostly mice, but also rats and fish, plus an undeclared 2% “other”) who have been bred but found unnecessary or unsuitable and therefore killed, or been used for tissue collection only, or been kept as ‘sentinels’ to test for infections circulating in the neighbourhood. Or they have simply died by mistake (i.e. human mistake: see the ASRU report below). The total of these animals in 2017 was 1,810,091. Therefore the total of all animals used in Great Britain’s laboratories last year, as the Home Office now declares, was about 5.53 million.

This is surely a very important addition to the statistics hitherto provided. The law, and accordingly perhaps the scientists themselves, don’t rate death very highly as a harm, compared to suffering. Death is therefore not classified as a ‘procedure’ even when (as is usually the case) it’s deliberately inflicted, nor does it require a licensed person to effect it, and it hasn’t until now been made part of any official count. But a public survey carried out by Ipsos MORI in 2013 showed very clearly that non-professionals think differently: “they saw death as the most serious harm which could be done to an animal . . . participants felt the public should know more about how many animals are killed.” That now they do know more is the result of the European Directive 2010/63 which governs animal research in all member states, and which requires this information to be issued once very five years. (The Directive was transposed into UK law in 2012, so 2017 is the first result of this provision). Why every five years, I don’t know. Nor does anyone seem to know (a more important uncertainty) whether the requirement will lapse in the UK after Brexit, assuming that Brexit occurs.

That brings us to another recent publication, The Animals (Scientific Procedures) Act 1986 (EU Exit) Regulations 2018, which specifies the alterations to UK law which will become necessary “on exit day”. Despite the resoundingly bureaucratic title, these alterations are surprisingly few; they take up hardly half a page of detailed adjustments. And indeed the much longer Explanatory Memorandum which accompanies them states emphatically that the changes “are the minimum necessary”. A convincing illustration: under the heading ‘Matters of special interest to the Committees on the UK’s exit from the European Union’ (a warning of difficulty or controversy) is the statement “None”.

Of course, nothing is said in the Memorandum, or can be said yet, about the pressures which may come when UK bioscience has to make a more solitary effort to “retain competitiveness in global markets” (as the Head of ASRU dismally expresses it). But in the course of emphasizing that all existing standards of welfare and supervision will be maintained, the Explanatory Memorandum does provide one very specific and most important reassurance: “Implementation of the 3Rs (Replacement, Reduction and Refinement) will contribute to the final goal of full replacement of procedures on live animals for scientific and educational purposes as soon as it is scientifically possible to do so, which was an aim enshrined in Directive 2010/63/EU.”

Admittedly the ambition thus re-stated commits nobody to anything, and it leaves to scientists the decision as to when full replacement has become possible, but as far as I have seen it’s the first time that this goal has been formally re-stated, perhaps even been mentioned anywhere in animal research circles, since its original declaration in the Directive. Yet it’s what really makes sense of the 3Rs. They’re not there just to discourage waste of life and pain, important as that purpose is. Still less are they a sort of passport or alibi for research which might otherwise be suspected of moral frivolity or negligence. The 3Rs should act as a constant and uncomfortable reminder that this sort of work is due to end.

That is not at all the impression of them which one gets from the Concordat’s literature or activities. There they seem to be regarded more as a sort of correct dress for scientists when appearing before the public – for instance, on web-sites. Nowhere there or in any UAR material (but of course I haven’t seen it all) can I find any endorsement of that statement from the Directive. Rather the contrary, because the purpose of UAR, and in particular of its Concordat project, is to make a secure and welcoming place in the modern UK for vivisection: to entrench it, in short. The primary aim of the Concordat, as twice stated in the Annual Report just published, is to “support confidence and trust in the life-sciences sector.” The progress which is aimed at, then, is not a change in scientific practice or in momentum towards animal-free research, but a change in public attitudes to the thing as it is.

The Concordat’s awards event and its annual report have both been fully featured in this blog on earlier occasions (see notes below). I don’t find any substantial differences this year, except in the scale of the public ‘engagement’ organised by its signatories: open days, virtual tours of laboratories, science fairs, links with schools, and so on. Always there has been one essential PR principle driving these things: to gain control of the public’s awareness. The principle is implied in the 2018 Report thus: “There is now more information about the use of animals in research in the public domain than ever and, crucially, it is owned and presented by more and more of the organisations who are responsible for funding, staffing and carrying out the research.”

Owned and presented” most immediately by professionals in PR, of course, rather than by scientists themselves, who have other things to do. One signed-up university is quoted in the Report praising its own progress in this direction, and showing how it works: “Members of the marketing and communications team have been invited to tour facilities and to take pictures and prepare videos for dissemination to the public.” We saw one symptom of this way of managing things on Oxford University’s web-site earlier in the year, where a gross mis-statement can only have been allowed to get in and endure because the scientists themselves were not even reading it. Incidentally, that web-site is the first of the four examples of web-sites chosen in the Report “to illustrate good practice”. We’re told that “UAR periodically checks statements [the ones made by signatories on their web-sites] throughout the year to make sure they are active” (i.e. up to date), but it’s evidently looking for show rather than substance.

As habitually, this year’s Concordat Report acknowledges that being honest about “harms done to animals in research” is “an area of challenge” for most signatories, and they continue to shy away from it, in their texts and even more obviously in their pictures and videos. The Report itself makes a first very modest attempt to set an example in its own illustrations (a brain scan on rats, a pig lying on an operating table), though since there are no explanatory captions, these images are hardly more illuminating than the ubiquitous ‘library pictures’ which the report deprecates. And even the Concordat does not expect anyone to go public about the sort of lab-blunders which account for some of those Additional Statistics discussed above. For these we must turn to the Animals in Science Regulation Unit’s Annual Report 2017 (i.e. covering 2017).

ASRU’s report is a comprehensive account of all its work during that year, including its licensing and inspection regime. The cases of ‘non-compliance’ which it had to discipline during the year are reviewed near the end, forty of them (compared to 45 last year, 55 in 2015: a promising sequence?). It’s a familiar record of failed communications, forgetfulness, under-staffing, lapsed attention, and occasionally real incompetence. The equivalent record for last year was treated in this blog at some length, and again there does not seem to have been any notable change. Mostly, of course, the victims of these errors were rodents: forgotten about at the week-end, overproduced in their thousands, cack-handedly half-killed. However, at least one possible contributor to that “other” category in the Additional Statistics (the 2% group) gets individual notice here:

A non-human primate . . . died when it became trapped between a restraint mechanism and a cage wall. Attempts by the Named Animal Care and Welfare Officer and other staff to resuscitate the animal were unsuccessful.

Here would indeed be an eloquent illustration to the relevant institution’s web-site. Even the brief text vividly evokes the unhappy scene.

But although one can learn a lot about laboratory life from the ASRU report – about the ordinary routines as well as the accidents – it shares with the Concordat’s more obviously  partisan survey the premise that animal research should be made to work acceptably in its given (= its best possible) form. No “final goal” is mentioned or even hinted at in the introductory blessing to ASRU’s account given by the relevant Home Office minister, Baroness Williams. (Her official title, just so we know how near the front of her mind animal welfare must be, is Minister of State for Countering Extremism.) Baroness Williams places animal research firmly in its commercial context: “The UK’s life science strategy is based on a vision of how the UK may exploit its current strengths to support strong economic growth in this sector.” However, strict regulation is important as well, and the minister’s prose takes a sort of zig-zag course between these two purposes: “As a regulator, the Home Office has an important role in balancing the need to enable innovation and research in the life sciences whilst maintaining public trust [the Concordat’s aim, remember] through a strong framework that has the necessary checks and balances.” And so on.

Proponents of animal research like to talk about a ‘middle ground’ between the two extremes, which is where moderate and realistic persons can discuss and manage the practice. This is indeed where most of the texts discussed above would be supposed by their writers to be located. But there is no such ground: at least, not as they imagine it. For although abolition exists as a real possibility at one end, the other ‘extreme’, a free for all, cannot exist in the UK (or the EU) except as criminality. The real far limit in that direction is simply present practice, which should, as the “final goal” of the Directive makes clear, always be closing up towards abolition. All the texts reviewed here are concerned in one way or another to present animal research to the public. In so far as they fail to acknowledge and promote its character as a practice in required motion towards oblivion, they misrepresent its true legal status and help to protract its wrongs. Perhaps that’s their purpose. At any rate, I’ve saved you from the ordeal of reading them.

 

Notes and references:

The Home Office’s Additional Statistics, published 8 November, can be read here: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/754408/breeding-genotyping-animals-scientific-procedures-2017-hosb2718.pdf

The Ipsos MORI survey of 2013, Openness in Animal Research, was commissioned as part of the Concordat preliminaries, and can be found on their web-site at http://concordatopenness.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/openness-in-animal-r.pdf. The quotation is from pp.34-5.

The Brexit regulations and the Explanatory Memorandum which goes with them, were first published on 1 October and are on the government’s web-site here: https://www.gov.uk/eu-withdrawal-act-2018-statutory-instruments/the-animals-scientific-procedures-act-1986-eu-exit-regulations-2018#sifting-committee-recommendation. The “final goal” is spoken of in paragraph 7.4.

The Concordat on Openness on Animal Research Annual Report 2018, ed. A.J.Williams and H.Hobson, is online here: http://concordatopenness.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Concordat-report-2018.pdf. Quotations are from pp. 48, 3, 22, 32-3, and 9. Last year’s Concordat report was featured in this blog on 18 December 2017: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2017/12/18/advent-pr-style/ See also, from 18 December 2016, https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2016/12/18/prize-day-with-the-concordat-folk/

The mis-statement on Oxford University’s web-site is discussed in this blog on 8 June 2018 here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2018/06/08/on-the-trail-of-an-untruth/

ASRU’s Annual Report 2017, published on 3 December, can be read here: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/761083/Animals_in_Science_annual_report.pdf .  Quotations are taken from the Ministerial Foreword and the Foreword by the Head of ASRU, William Reynolds. The quotation about the non-human primate is from non-compliance case 2, on p.30. ASRU’s previous report is featured in this blog on 30 March 2018: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2018/03/30/policing-the-lab/

On the Trail of an Untruth: the Sequel

A few weeks ago, this blog highlighted a plainly false statement in Oxford University’s online account of animal research (titled ‘Research using animals: an overview’) and traced it to its source: namely, the web-site of the PR organisation called Understanding Animal Research. The statement claimed that the numbers of animals used for research in the UK had nearly halved over the last thirty years, whereas in fact the numbers have risen by about 5% since 1987. They really did go down during the rest of that century, but since then have been going briskly upwards, with occasional modest dips. Perhaps this mis-statement may not seem to matter much; I’ll say something about its significance later on. Meanwhile, here is its latter fate.

Since nothing came of outing it in the blog or, before that, of reporting it to the Public Affairs Office which controls the University’s web-site – making five months or so of conscious misrepresentation – we wrote a letter about it to the University’s independent house journal, the excellent Oxford Magazine. This produced a very civil e-mail from the PAO. There had been some doubt as to what data had been used to substantiate the claim, we were told, and it now seemed right to remove it.

So far so good, but a more general claim was allowed to remain, namely that the number of animals had been “dramatically reduced”. We pointed out that this meant the same thing, though less mathematically. Yes, the Office conceded that the claim “referenced old national figures” (2001 figures to be exact). That phrase too was therefore removed, and a larger revision made of the whole web-page.

So let’s re-visit this page. Some of the old favourites are certainly still there. As before, we’re told three times that “There is overwhelming scientific consensus worldwide that some research using animals is still essential for medical progress.” Perhaps this repetition is thought to have persuasive value, but it rather suggests that the page is pasted together out of contributions from various sources rather than through-composed, a point I’ll come back to. The statement itself is not evidenced, true as it probably is, nor is the more tendentious statement that “Most people believe that in order to achieve medical progress . . . animal use is justified.” In fact the whole page needs foot-noting. Why should we take it all on trust? Academics shouldn’t expect us to.

Then, as before, the point is made at least twice that this research doesn’t only serve humans: “animal research benefits animals too. I’ve always felt that this is a dangerous justification, though one very frequently used. If it’s right, for instance, to make some dogs suffer for the benefit of other dogs, their equals in moral status (whatever we take that status to be), why isn’t it right to make the same rule for humans and their equals (i.e. each other)? But let’s put it the better way round: if it’s wrong to make humans suffer for each other, why isn’t it wrong in the case of the other animal species? Anyway the point is a disingenuous one: we know that these animal beneficiaries are not being helped for their own sakes. They’re mostly farm animals, whose routine dosing with medication is simply a commercial investment, or else they’re pet animals, likewise lent their value by humans. It’s the human valuation, in cash or affection, that does it.

And also still there on the ‘overview’ page, as part of the account of research with non-human primates, is the Escher-like statement, “At the end of its life the animal is humanely killed.” This formulation I used to think was intended as a sort of philosophical conundrum. Now I know it better as a bit of PR, a way of implying, without having to tell a lie, that the monkey has reached its natural term. But of course it is a lie, not just because the killing causes, instead of happily coinciding with, the end of the monkey’s life; the point is that it’s the monkey’s usefulness alive that has ended and prompted the killing, not its life.

Those are some of the familiar details which suggest that nothing essential has changed in the page, or in the habits of mind and practice which it represents. One of the most disturbing features of this ‘overview’ is its preoccupation with the treating of disease, as opposed to prevention or positive health. In fact these latter are not mentioned (except as vaccination). The page begins by stating that “Around half the diseases in the world have no treatment.” Accordingly, animal studies form one part of a “wide range of research techniques” whose aim is to find “cures, vaccines or treatments”. In the course of the text, some of these cures are listed, and their success evidenced. For instance, in the UK alone, “More than 50 million prescriptions are written annually for antibiotics.” (Can this be true?)

No doubt antibiotics, as well as many other such treatments, have been a very great blessing indeed to human health: which of us hasn’t profited from them? But the use of antibiotics – for humans and (notoriously) for animals – has illustrated the flaws in this adversarial model of health. Forty years ago, in the fine pioneering book The Moral Status of Animals (1977), Stephen Clark warned against this “arms race in which our ‘foes’ are always winning . . . Is it not time,” he asked, “to see what other attitudes there might be to the living world?” No doubt it’s unreasonable to look for these “other attitudes” in laboratories where vivisection is used, or in their promotional texts. Still, we can wish they were there. For unfortunately the whole practice of medicine has been conditioned by the militaristic world-view taken by those who service it with science.

Nor is there any suggestion in this ‘overview’ page that change is on the way for the animals. Despite the talk of reduction, replacement, etc., there is no expressed hope or expectation that the cages will ever be empty. In fact it’s noticeable that concessions to the ethical motive tend to appear in subordinate clauses of the type “While we are committed to reducing, replacing and refining animal research . . . “ or “While humans are used extensively in Oxford research . . . ”, the follow-up main clause showing that business must carry on as ever: for instance, “. . . there is overwhelming scientific consensus worldwide that some research using animals is still essential for medical progress.” The last paragraph of all is headed ‘How will humans benefit in future?’ The given answer is that new drugs and medical technologies will continue to be developed from (among other things) “the carefully regulated use of animals for research”. No end in sight, then.

It’s not possible to know how far this ‘overview’ really does represent the thinking in Oxford’s biomedical sciences. The disconcerting thing about that original mis-statement (to return there) is that any one of the scientists using animals at Oxford would have spotted its absurdity at once. That means that not only is this public account of Oxford University’s scientific practice not composed by the practitioners; they don’t even bother to read it. Even their Ethical Review Committee can’t have looked it over. I suppose that contributions have been canvassed from these people, who have come up with material of various kinds (including, no doubt, accurate numbers, but also resounding phrases like that one about the scientific consensus), and these have been patched together with prose connections and fixatives, and some material from such other sources as UAR, into the finished product which we see (but which they don’t feel the need to see). In fact, nobody has really said it or can take responsibility for it. It’s a PR collage, in which we may be seeing things really thought and done, but which cannot be relied upon at any particular point or as a whole.

This indeed has been the gift of the Concordat on Openness on Animal Research, of which so much has been said in this blog: we can now enjoy the illusion of knowing what’s going on.

 

Notes and references:

The original post, ‘On the Trail of an Untruth’, can be read here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2018/06/08/on-the-trail-of-an-untruth/

‘Research using animals: an overview’ is here: http://www.ox.ac.uk/news-and-events/animal-research/research-using-animals-an-overview

A very clear chart showing the statistics of animal research since 1945 is provided on p.13 of the Home Office statistical report for 2016: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/627284/annual-statistics-scientific-procedures-living-animals-2016.pdf

The Moral Status of Animals by Stephen R. L. Clark was published by Oxford University Press. The quotation is from pp.172-3 of the 1984 paperback edition.

The Many and the One

The Home Office has now published statistics for the animal research done in Great Britain during 2017 (not the UK, because Northern Ireland publishes its own modest contribution to the scene separately).

Very little has changed since 2016 for these statistics to record (see the chart below), but there’s a notable innovation in the look of them. There are now three or four distinct colours, instead of the old black, white, and grey; the former tables and columns have been supplemented with graphs of zig-zagging lines in tonic blues; helpful comment and explanation appear in tinted text-boxes. In short the document has been designed to engage and even impress the reader, rather than merely to provide, with implicit apology, unwelcome information. This suggests the influence, perhaps even the direct advice, of Understanding Animal Research and its PR project, the Concordat on Openness on Animal Research. And UAR’s director, Wendy Jarrett, makes a comment on the statistics which reflects this new way of seeing them: not as a regretted cost, certainly not as a “necessary evil” (when was that phrase last used?), but as an index of achievement:

Animal research continues to play a vital part in the development of modern treatments and medicines. While the numbers of procedures may vary from year to year, we should be proud of the important contribution that the UK makes to scientific and medical advancement worldwide.

Here, anyway, is VERO’s summary of the numbers and species, alongside those of 2016, with some comments to follow:

 Species  Number used in 2016  Number used in 2017
 Mice   2,866,435    2,781,685
 Fish   535,819    514,059
 Rats   249,389    241,544
 Domestic fowl   139,860    125,280
 Sheep    48,095    47,499
 Guinea Pigs    26,186    22,560
 Horses    8,948    10,600
 Rabbits    15,431    10,362
 Dogs    4,932    2,496
 Non-human primates    3,569    2,215
 Other species    38,059    31,073
 Total:    3,936,723    3,789,373

Direction of travel:

For the second year in a row, there has been a welcome fall in the total number of animals used, this time a fall of slightly less than 4%. Nothing can be deduced from this; as the Home Office puts it “any clear trend for recent years is as yet difficult to determine.” However, there is a very clear trend for the century so far: a rise of nearly 45% since 2001’s 2.62 million. Nor is the prospect good. If the UK were to leave the European Union without making terms to remain a partner in REACH (Registration, Evaluation, Authorization and restriction of Chemicals – a bad enough system already), it might have to create its own testing regime, duplicating what is done collaboratively in the rest of the EU. Or rather, it apparently would have to. A government minister truculently told a House of Lords committee  earlier this month, when asked about this possible secession from REACH, “if that required animal testing, that would require animal testing.”

The term ‘procedure’:

Viewing the Home Office’s annual pageantry of numbers, so eloquent of orderly record-keeping and nothing if not factual, the dazzled reader must keep in mind that the basic unit, the regulated ‘procedure’, is itself an unknown quantity. A helpful hint to this effect is provided in one of those text-boxes, where ‘procedures’ in the plural is defined in the singular, a confusion of number which characterizes all official documents when dealing with this point, for very good reason.

Those horses, for instance. You’ll notice that they’re one of the few species in greater demand this last year. Mainly, it seems, they’re made to yield blood products for use in medical diagnosis and other scientific analysis. What: just the once each? Of course not: it’s really their career, and that would be the right term for what is asked of all these animals. Some animals may eventually retire, as perhaps the horses do: much more commonly, the end of their part in the project coincides with the end of their life. (This is something which the statistics ought to record, but in fact they say nothing about death.) Either way, the term ‘procedure’, with its suggestion of a single experience, is a misleading fiction, and therefore so are all these numbers.

Classifying the pain:

Actually the statistics do say something about death. Being found dead in your cage after a ‘procedure’ is one of the indicators for a ‘severe’ classification, we’re told. Others include needing help to eat and drink (to survive, in short). It may be that the statistics for each of the four main levels of suffering – sub-threshold, mild, moderate, severe – really are informative. They seem to change very little from year to year (the Home Office notices this), but I don’t know what that implies.

About 5% of procedures (not including GM breeding) are said to have imposed ‘severe’ suffering on the animals involved (95,025 of them) during 2017. So-called ‘regulatory testing’ (tests required by law in the EU or the UK, or beyond) takes a disproportionately high part in this category. Of its 505,000 or so procedures, 10% or more were considered severe. That’s no surprise, since this class of work includes toxicity-testing (195,000 procedures), and the Home Office statistics show that for this purpose the LD50 and LC50 tests – identifying the Lethal Dose or Lethal Concentration that kills half the animals – are still in use.

Numbers and individuals:

How much does anyone really learn from these numbers? No doubt they provide a rough knowledge of the scale of animal research, and which species and which purposes are tending upward and which down. But it is rough knowledge. Not just the basic term ‘procedure’ is opaque: the classifications of research are uninformative. Thus, one cat, of the 198 cats dealt with in 2017 (190 in 2016), suffered pain in the category ‘severe’. The purpose of the research in question was ‘animal diseases and disorders’. That’s all that there’s space to tell us. And how dependable even that much is may be deduced from the ‘Revisions’ to previous years’ statistics attached at the end. Here we find, for instance, that 5,930 sheep and 1700 horses which had appeared under ‘protection of the environment’ (itself a sinister enough category) were in fact engaged in ‘routine production – blood products’. It’s not so much that a mistake has been made – easily enough done in the stress of all this bureaucracy. More sobering is how little an outsider can make of the difference.

Animal protection groups quite reasonably tend to call the annual statistics ‘shocking’. I would say instead ‘stupefying’. Seeing these great phalanxes of animals moved around in their graphs, columns, tables, and other formations simply dulls the imagination. In fact, to re-iterate other posts in this blog (and the whole annual performance is after all a wretched re-iteration), these statistics are a variety of euphemism. Certainly they’re much better than secrecy, but they take the mind off the subject of individual suffering, which is the one thing that matters. Just occasionally, in the smaller numbers, momentary illuminations are offered as to what we’re really seeing: that one cat, for instance, needing help to eat or drink, suffering pains which “a person would find difficult to tolerate” (Home Office guidance on the ‘severe’ category), or perhaps being found mercifully dead in the cage.

By way of final re-iteration, I shall re-append the picture of the Oxford University OU primatemacaque monkey: suggested caption, ‘Waiting for the End’.

 

Notes and references:

The Home Office’s publication, Annual Statistics of Scientific Procedures on Living Animals, Great Britain 2017 can be read here: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/724611/annual-statistics-scientific-procedures-living-animals-2017.pdf

I should add that a much more informative annual account of animal research is provided in the Non-Technical Summaries (i.e. of proposed research), also published by the Home Office. There is more about the NTS in the VERO blog here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2018/01/15/if-you-poison-us-do-we-not-die/

Wendy Jarrett’s comment, and Understanding Animal Research’s response in general, can be read on their web-site here: http://www.understandinganimalresearch.org.uk/news/communications-media/animal-research-numbers-in-2017/

The government minister who spoke to the House of Lords EU Energy and Environment Sub-Committee was Therese Coffey MP, at a session on 18 July of this year.

The complete Home Office guidance to ‘severity’ is provided in Advisory notes on recording and reporting the actual severity of regulated procedures, 2014, especially pp.12-13.

 

On the Trail of an Untruth

Oxford University’s online introduction to animal research, headed ‘Research using animals: an overview’, takes the form of a questions and answer session. Your simple requests for guidance (“Why is animal research necessary?”, “Is it morally right to use animals in research?”, “Aren’t animals too different from humans to tell us anything useful?”, etc.) are answered with firm authority (“No.” starts the answer to that last question) but in relaxed, even incorrect, English (“they share a huge amount of similarities with humans.”).

Your fourteenth question (a slight whine imputed to it by this time) is this: “We may have used animals in the past to develop medical treatments, but are they really needed in the 21st century?” It receives the following answer: “Yes. New techniques have dramatically reduced the number of animals needed – the number has almost halved over the last 30 years – but there is overwhelming scientific consensus … etc.” No comparative figures, for the University or for the UK, are supplied to justify that astonishing claim between the dashes. However, it clearly refers to the nation as a whole, and of course the national numbers are readily available. They show that in the 29 years between 1987, when the counting system introduced by the 1986 Act came into use, and 2016, when the national statistics were last published, there has been an increase of about 5%. (If 1986 were taken as the reference date, the increase would be larger, but the two numbers are not properly comparable.) Not a steady increase, it’s true: there was a fall in the numbers till the year 2001, to about 2.6 million, then a steady rise to the 2016 number of 3.94 million. This history needs to be kept in mind during what follows.

Why should the University’s Animal Care and Ethical Review Committee (ACER), whose duty it is among other things to keep the University and the wider public informed on this subject, make such a wild and therefore discreditable claim about numbers? The answer, as I discovered by asking, is that it didn’t. Apparently ACER itself doesn’t compose the official public account of animal research at the University. The account is put together in the University’s Public Affairs Office. Presumably that’s why these animal research pages, which date from about 2011 and hardly alter except when the annual numbers change, nevertheless appear in the category ‘News and Events’. We’re dealing, as it turns out, not with the voice of authority but with PR.

So how did the Public Affairs Office come by this false claim? Unlike ACER, this is a department of the University which doesn’t willingly answer questions (its preference is evidently for what the Concordat on Openness calls “public-facing communication tools”: i.e. one-way traffic). Therefore I had to start with a guess. In its search for tonic material about animal research, where would the Public Affairs Office look? Surely it would go to its fellow-professionals at Understanding Animal Research. The UAR web-site is there for just such a purpose. “Click here to find everything you need to know about animal research”, it says – this particular encouragement specifically but rather puzzlingly directed at “scientists”. To journalists, the appeal is more frankly utilitarian: “the pages below give you quick access to our media centre, where you will find guidelines, quick facts, and links to other good information sources.” Quick facts: just what the Public Affairs Office would have been hoping for. So that’s the trail I followed.

But this is a very large web-site, branching out indeed into subordinate web-sites: one a sort of encyclopaedia of the subject (AnimalResearch.info), another a “global information service about animal rights extremism” (AnimalRightsExtremism.info), a third dealing with the industry’s Concordat on Openness. As the UAR’s name implies, the general premise of the whole site is that not disputation but knowledge is what brings us to a right attitude: that is, to approval of animal research as a necessary resource when other satisfactory means do not exist. This is what UAR habitually refers to as “the middle ground”, though what exactly it’s in the middle of is not clear: certainly there is a more radical position (in favour of abolition), but no position more reactionary than UAR’s (anything goes, for instance) is countenanced by UK law.

In general the tone of the web-site is merely positivistic, rather than defensive or strident. Here is UAR on the subject ‘Goat’, for instance. (That title itself, making the animal sound like a useful material, oil or aluminium perhaps, makes further comment unnecessary.) “Goats”, we’re told,

are gaining acceptance as an established model for biomedical research and surgical training . . . Moreover, a unique advantage to using livestock or companion animal species is that it also allows for ‘dual-purpose’ research: that is, research that not only benefits human health by greater understanding of biological processes, but can also advance animal agriculture so that we have a continued supply of abundant, safe, affordable, and high quality meat and dairy products.

Besides, the “friendly and docile nature of the goat” make it a particularly “desirable animal model for research and teaching programs”. At the end of this survey of the animal – a text whose spelling suggests that it comes from an American source, though none is cited – we’re told that “214 experimental procedures used goat [again] for research in 2016 in the UK.” 214? Wake up, UK: you’re missing opportunities!

Other animal species can be followed in an ‘A-Z of animals’. (I’m still looking for the source of that claim.) Ferrets, for instance: among their points of utility has apparently been the testing of the notorious drug thalidomide, which “induces birth defects in very few species”. That’s odd, because elsewhere we’re told that thalidomide would have shown up as harmful to unborn babies if only testing on animals had then been required, because “it had very similar effects in many species.” This latter version is perhaps the more reliable, since it appears in a section expressly devoted to correcting common misunderstandings, headed ‘Myths and Facts’.

Countering the ignorance and disingenuousness of its opponents is an essential part of UAR’s mission, and a certain amount of acerbity, jeering even, is thought legitimate here. (This is especially so in the pieces written by UAR’s Head of Policy and Media, Chris Magee. His account of Frances Power Cobbe was the subject of a post in VERO’s blog on 1 August 2017.) Accordingly, the ‘myths’ are presented adversarially, as ill-informed assertions, rather than as polite questions (“Research on animals is not relevant to people because animals are different from people”, rather than Oxford University’s “Aren’t animals too different from humans to tell us anything useful?”). But otherwise this feature on the UAR web-site does bear quite a close resemblance to the University page. And sure enough, when we reach myth number 11, “Animals don’t need to be used in research because there are alternatives”, the factual correction includes these sentences: “Scientists have strong ethical, economic and legal obligations to use animals in research only when necessary. Thus the number of research animals used annually in the UK has almost halved in the last 30 years.” Found it!

I don’t doubt that this was the source for the University’s statement, dismaying as it must be to see a university picking up and disseminating knowledge in this amateurish way. It unhappily illustrates, in fact, just how ‘myths’ (in this loose sense) work. As for UAR, their excuse for setting the myth going is that it was material left over from some earlier year, when it was quite properly posted as a fact. The last time such a claim could justly have been made was in the period 2001-4, when numbers were indeed about half what they had been in the UK’s worst vivisection years of the 1970s. 2004: that was well before UAR even existed under its present name. “Click here”, then, “to find everything you only need to think you know about animal research.”

UAR has promptly removed the claim from its web-site, but of course it’s the habit of myths to live on in spite of the evidence or even of express correction. At the time of writing, Oxford University continues to give the claim currency (though VERO first queried it in mid-April), and who can say where else it’s been taken up and promoted? I know that numbers aren’t the essence of what’s wrong with vivisection. They may even – as this blog has often said – help to obfuscate the matter. They certainly will if they’re not even the right ones.

 

Notes and references:

The Oxford University web-page in question is at http://www.ox.ac.uk/news-and-events/animal-research/research-using-animals-an-overview

You can see a chart of Home Office numbers from 1945 onwards on p.13 of the statistical report for 2016: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/627284/annual-statistics-scientific-procedures-living-animals-2016.pdf

“public-facing communication tools” is quoted from the Annual Report of the Concordat on Openness on Animal Research, 2017, referenced and commented on in this blog last Christmas here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2017/12/18/advent-pr-style/

UAR’s web-site is at http://www.understandinganimalresearch.org.uk/  The account of the goat is on the associated web-site here: http://www.animalresearch.info/en/designing-research/research-animals/goat-capra-aegagrus-hircus/

 

 

A Record-breaking Year’s Work in the Lab

The numerical details of Oxford University’s animal research in 2017 have now been made public. Here is a selection, showing the numbers for each species (with 2016 for comparison), and then the severity of the ‘procedures’ involved. A few comments follow the two tables.

 Total number of experimental procedures, by species:

 Species  Number in 2017  Number in 2016
 Mice      229,640      200,157
 Fishes          3,852        14,737
 Rats          2,599         2,174
 Junglefowl               21            291
 Frogs            155           226
 Guinea Pigs              80             81
 Badgers              39             60
 Pigs               5              0
 Ferrets             29            29
 Non-Human Primates               7              8
 Rabbits               2              2
 Total:    236,429   217,765

 

Severity of procedures by species (where moderate or above was recorded):

Species  Severe  Moderate  Mild  Sub-threshold  Non-recovery
 Mice  2,085  38,177  65,063       121,487       2,828
 Fishes     100       950    2,246           9,890            19
 Rats      17       787       403              772          620
 Ferrets      0        19         0                 0           10
Non-Human Primates      0          7         0                 0            2

 The total number: 236,429 represents a rise of 8.5% over the previous year. It’s the largest number of research procedures recorded at the University since the new laboratory was opened in 2007, a year for which the number was 155,901. Almost certainly it’s the largest ever recorded at Oxford under the vivisection law of 1986, but numbers before 2007 aren’t obtainable.

Meaning of ‘procedure’: Remember that this word, in the singular, really means ‘at least one procedure’: for a review of its ambiguity, making a sort of nonsense all these careful numerations, see an earlier post in this blog, at https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2016/08/01/home-office-statistics-numbers-words-and-euphemisms/ .  More reliably the numbers should simply be understood as a count of the animals experimented on and (in all but a handful of cases) killed during the year.

Openness: Although the numbers are quite candidly published on the University’s web-site (as required by the Concordat on Openness on Animal Research, to which the University is a signatory), they are not exactly out in the open. They appear suddenly far down in the middle of the University’s standard account, ‘Research using animals: an overview’, itself a sub-division of the introductory page, ‘Animal Research’. By that point, the diligent reader will have been softened up with no less than three appearances of some variant of the statement “There is overwhelming scientific consensus worldwide that some research using animals is still essential for medical progress.” The idea, I suppose, is that he or she will be well prepared to regard the numbers, when they come, as the essential minimum.

Up or down: Accordingly there is no comment on the high-point which this year’s numbers represent, or indeed any comparison with any other year (VERO has added the comparison with 2016). On the contrary, the extended vindication of animal research in which they’re embedded includes the bewildering statement, “New techniques have dramatically reduced the number of animals needed – the number has almost halved over the last 30 years.” As I say, we don’t have Oxford University’s numbers before 2007, but in Great Britain as a whole, the number in 1987 was about 3.6 million. This number, so far from being “almost halved” since then, has in fact been exceeded in every year since 2010 (the number for 2016 was 3.94 million). But just in case we should interpret this rash assertion as conciliatory in spirit, it’s followed in the same sentence with yet a fourth appearance of the familiar refrain: “… but there is overwhelming scientific consensus worldwide that some research using animals is still essential for medical progress.”

Animals killed without experiments: There’s one valuable innovation this year: a number is provided for the animals bred and killed without being used in ‘procedures’. It’s a number which the Home Office doesn’t ask research institutions for, but ought to. Oxford’s total for the mice, rats, frogs, and zebrafishes which are bred in the University’s laboratories was 35,777.

Non-compliance and the 3Rs: The previous post in this blog was about the policing of the 1986 Act, and the 45 instances of non-compliance in 2016. Two of those instances took place in Oxford’s laboratories. This we learn from the annual report of the University’s Animal Care and Ethical Review Committee (published at the end of 2017), but not in enough detail to know which two they were. The report is a very general summary of the University’s ethical control of animal research, in particular its promotion of the 3Rs (replacement, reduction, refinement). The numbers given above don’t seem a very apt illustration of this activity, sincere as I’m sure it is. But then neither the ACER report, nor even the annual numbers, provide much insight into the attitudes, practices, or animal experiences which really characterize the laboratory scene at Oxford. Everything published about it is PR or PR-minded; the thing itself remains, for outsiders, hard or impossible to see.

Severity: As to the figures for ‘severity’ given above, and what these imply, see Note 4 in last year’s equivalent of this post here: https://voiceforethicalresearchatoxford.wordpress.com/2017/03/27/for-we-are-many/ In fact all of that post, and the previous year’s too (24 April 2016), remain disappointingly up to date. Very little has changed in the world of laboratory OU primateanimals, least of all the commitment of Oxford University practitioners to its continuation. As ever, then, the rhesus macaque monkey looks out through the glass darkly, as we likewise look in.

 

Notes and references:

The University’s animal-research web pages can be found at http://www.ox.ac.uk/news-and-events/animal-research. The report of the ACER Committee is published in the Oxford University Gazette, issue no. 5189, 7 December 2016. It can be read here: https://www.ox.ac.uk/gazette/2017-2018/7december2017-no5189/notices/#263551

The photograph of the rhesus macaque in the Biomedical Sciences Building appears on the University’s own web-site, I don’t know why, and is used here by permission.

Two Merlins and their Tasks

The non-technical summaries of research projects accepted by the Home Office in 2016 were published just before Christmas. There are 31 categories (‘gastrointestinal: basic research’, ‘human sensory organ disorders: translational research’, ‘regulatory purposes’ [the worst, I think], and so on); they comprise a total of 530 projects. Taking part in all this will be mice, rats, voles, bats, ferrets, dogs (one toxicity-testing project proposes to use 1500 dogs), non-human primates, zebra-fishes, sticklebacks, farmed animals of all kinds: “will be”, because of course these are not, as usually with the vivisection numbers one encounters, used and deceased animals, but fated ones only, due to re-appear in the statistics as their ‘procedures’ are completed over the next few years. There’s something additionally poignant about that.

Most of the summaries are about three pages long, so that the 31 ‘volumes’ take up about 1500 pages of reading. It’s very instructive reading, but one sickens of these numbers, these casually listed menageries. It all reminds me (and I’m very glad to think of something else) of Merlyn’s outburst in T.H.White’s Book of Merlyn, when he justifies his suggested alternative name for the human species, Homo ferox:

‘Why,’ cried the old fellow suddenly, flaming out with a peculiar, ancient indignation, ‘there is not a humble animal in England that does not flee from the shadow of man, as a burnt soul from purgatory. Not a mammal … not a bird … the very fish will dart away. It takes something, believe me, to be dreaded in all the elements there are.’ [62]

This last book in T.H.White’s Arthurian sequence was written during the Second World War, and war is its main preoccupation. The time is late in the evening, and the aged King Arthur is to encounter his illegitimate son Mordred on the morrow, to settle their differences in treaty or more probably in battle. Merlyn arrives in the King’s tent, and Merlyn cover.JPGtakes him away to join the small fellowship of animals with whom Merlyn keeps company in a badger’s set in Cornwall. There, in a confusion of books, papers, charts, and specimens, they are attempting to make sense of the human addiction to war (another suggested name is Homo impoliticus, man the unruly, man the opposite of what Aristotle flatteringly called him). And since they have the education of a King to complete (“there had been some gaps in your education” [37]), the question is what sort of government will induce men to live peaceably. And the answer is to be reached by “learning from the beasts” [72]: animal research, in fact (Merlyn does call it an “experiment”), but not on the laboratory pattern where, as one practitioner has said, “the lowly rodent” serves the will of “his laboratory master”. Merlyn angrily dismisses such “condescending to the other animals” [57]:

This miserable nonentity among two hundred and forty-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine others [other species of animal, that is], goes drivelling along his tragic political groove, without ever lifting his eyes to the quarter million examples which surround him. What makes it still more extraordinary is that man is a parvenu among the rest, nearly all of which had already solved his problem in one way or another, many thousand years before he was created. [52-3]

And it’s in order to establish the proper modesty in King Arthur’s image of humanity, and thereby fit him to learn from these examples, that Merlyn so eloquently savages the reputation of his own species in this book (“There are a great many more worms than men, and they do a great deal more good.” [58]). He and his retinue of badger, owl, Trevor Stubleygreyhound, hedgehog and others, drive poor Arthur out of one familiar speciesist defence after another (we know them all): man’s fine material works, his intelligence, his heroism, his love. There’s nothing unique to man in any of these, Merlyn insists. (Rather quaintly, his one hesitant concession is the human affection for pet animals in spite of their “uselessness or even trouble. I cannot help thinking that any traffic in love, which is platonic and not given in exchange for other commodities, must be remarkable.” [69])

To learn more directly than by example from the beasts, King Arthur is first transformed into an ant – a cautionary lesson in totalitarianism. Then, more illuminatingly, he is turned into a goose of the species Anser albifrons, “beautiful creatures, who migrate freely over the whole surface of the globe [the King for a time goes with them] without making claim to any part of it” and who “have never fought a war”. [134] From this seemingly perfected form of loose community, passionately evoked by White, Arthur is reluctantly recalled, still clutching a feather, “his fragment of beauty”. [139]

Merlyn, always impetuously intellectual, formulates the political lessons of all this, but for Arthur, still on the eve of his momentous encounter with Mordred, it has made possible a more visionary understanding: “He suddenly felt the intense sad loveliness of being as being, apart from right or wrong: that, indeed, the mere fact of being was the ultimate right.” [144] And with this sense of the beauty and self-sufficiency of life merely as such, Arthur looks out over the moon-lit land, his own land as King, admiring and loving it “because it was”, thence loving also its plant life and animals, and finally even its people, in spite of all that Merlyn has truly said about them: “All the beauty of his humans came upon him, instead of their horribleness.” [144-5] Exactly not, then, by pre-supposing the superiority of humans, but by coming at them, as nature itself did, by way of all their animal predecessors and relations, is it perhaps possible to accept what they are.

Still, it’s a vision only. The morning  comes. Arthur and Mordred, at the head of their armies, meet and make a treaty. This leaves Arthur quite contented with half his former kingdom, in which he now has hopes of introducing “the germs of that good sense which he had learned from geese and other animals.” [167] But no: a grass-snake, like the one which forms part of Merlyn’s retinue, happens to pass in its proper element among the feet of the soldiers; with human instinct to destroy, a sword is drawn and the snake is pointlessly killed. The abrupt action is mistaken for treachery, “the tumult rose, the war-yell sounded”, and the battle is joined which takes the life, among others, of the King himself. [168]

The second Merlin, spelt thus and presented just a year or two later in the novel That Hideous Strength by C.S.Lewis, has lain torpid in something like that badger’s set for about fifteen centuries, and is now exhumed suddenly into the light of the twentieth. Both Merlins are in some sense voices of, or for, pre-human or at least pre-Renaissance nature, but whereas T.H.White’s Merlyn has moved as a free observing intelligence through all the possibilities of the organic world, Lewis’s Merlin is a life force hardly distinct from it: “a strangely animal appearance … full of the patient, unarguing sagacity of a beast” with “the voice of a tree”. But he too has the task of correcting somehow the stupidity of mere humanistic power (Homo stultus is another title suggested in White’s book) and of socializing delinquent humanity.

For this Merlin, however, the power-problem is not war but science, a hubristic science escaped from the restraint of humane thought and from the loyalties to nature on which much of that thought has been founded: Lewis speaks of an ideal of scientific progress premised on “the stifling of all deep-set repugnancies”. Although such science has risen out of the study of nature, its aim now, as Lewis pictures it, is to raise humanity above and away from nature, for there is, says his science administrator Lord Feverstone, “far too much of every kind of life about, animal and vegetable. We haven’t really cleared the place yet.” A caricature, no doubt, but Lewis bases it on much that is uncomfortably familiar. For instance, some of what the great and admirable Stephen Hawking says about moving humanity to a new planet would be well-received at Lewis’s National Institute of Co-ordinated Experiments (NICE). And, of course, entailed in NICE’s project is “an immense programme of vivisection”.

So now we’re back with the fated menageries. These NICE animals (“hundreds of pounds’ worth [1945 values] of living animality, which the Institute could afford to cut up like paper”) have been heard as muffled sounds from time to time in the book, but at last, in the crisis scene of the novel, they escape their fate – among them a tiger, a wolf, snakes, a gorilla, finally an elephant – and gate-crash NICE’s annual self-congratulatory dinner, bringing that and the whole NICE project to a violent end. But not just these animal prisoners are free; there were human ones too. And when, briefly, we learn how they all got out – “Merlin … had liberated beasts and men” – the clear implication is that the salvation of humanity, as well as of the other animals, depends on finding that right place for this “parvenu” in the ancient, imperfect commonwealth of life for which these Merlins speak: not, that is, as a tyrant numbering off the other animals to serve him, preying upon them and also upon his own kind, but as a peaceable member of the community, making it, if not better, at least not immeasurably worse.

Or is that just sentimental new-dawnism? And after all, if humanity is unsaveably ferox, there’s always the consolation which Merlyn mentions, “the suggestion which would probably be made by every other animal on the face of the earth, except man, namely that war is an inestimable boon to creation as a whole, because it does offer some faint hope of exterminating the human race.” [156] Not quite as faint now as when T.H.White wrote that, in 1941, but let’s hope for a better solution, and meanwhile very best wishes for 2018 to all who read this, and to the animals!

 

Notes and references:

The non-technical summaries of animal research projects are accessible at https://www.gov.uk/government/collections/non-technical-summaries-granted-in-2016

The Book of Merlyn was first published in 1977, some years after T.H.White’s death. It was intended as the fifth volume in his Arthurian series, the first four having been published between 1938 and 1958, and collectively in that year as The Once and Future King. The page numbers shown are from the Collins Fontana edition of 1978, which has apt and evocative illustrations by Trevor Stubley (one of which is shown), though the cover is by Stephen Lavis.

The quotation about “lowly rat” and “laboratory master” comes from The Science of Animal Behaviour by P.L.Broadhurst (Penguin Books, 1963), p.135.

That Hideous Strength was published by Bodley Head in 1945; the quotations are from the same publisher’s edition of 1969, pp. 355, 334, 249, 46, 122-3, 436