OK. Here’s one that’s a little outside of our usual content, here:
The headless chicken that found internet fame for surviving more than a week after being decapitated has now been adopted by monks.
Earlier this week the headless chicken made headlines around the world as it survived a beheading and was looked after by a kindly vet.
Take a look at the pictures (if you’re so inclined) and ask yourself: What does this say about the boundary of “life” between animals and plants?
From a purely materialistic standpoint, living thing can be defined as an entity that processes information internally. Weather can wear away a rock, but a plant can change what it does based on the information of the weather. What separates an animal, like a chicken? My view (broadly), is that animal life can deal in some level of abstraction; it takes in information from its senses and reacts in a way that adjusts from experience and predicts the future. This is the inchoate foundation of the soul, to be less materialistic.
So, without a head, what is the chicken doing? Can one train it to approach certain stimuli in the knowledge that it will receive food? Or is it just a biological machine?
On a metaphysical level, one could go either way. One could point to the chicken and still consider its animal life sacred and then conclude that plant life should be similarly sacred. Or one could suggest that a headless chicken raises doubts about how much of a leap there really is from plant to animal and whether we really should value animals more highly than plants simply for the fact of their being animals.
I’m not quite in the mood to place my marker on this game board, at this moment, but as the stories increase in frequency of activists and lawmakers’ going after people who treat animals without the most recently approved level of care, I’ve thought that folks should perhaps consider these deep questions a bit more thoroughly.