CULTURE: According to a recent study, animals have been declining in fiction since 1835, running parallel to animal extinction in our world. As animals and natural habits vanish around us, is it any surprise that they have disappeared from books too? And as we live increasingly urbanised lives, does this lack of fictionalised animal friends have real-life consequences?

Like so many things, fiction changed after the industrial revolution. Whilst book production and education increased, encouraging so many of the authors we esteem today, many writers took to their work to highlight the social justice issues of the time (Dickens is a beloved example). Indeed, Romanticism in literature celebrated the beauty of nature above industry: a chilling reminder of what we had lost. As discussed in a recent Surge article, animals in literature became symbolic of animals - and their homes - being destroyed by pollution and urbanisation.

• From fable to farmyard: what does children's literature tell us about animals?

These works are even more chilling when we regard the mass species extinction taking place today. Scientists are in debate over whether we are in the sixth mass extinction of the planet’s history – and if so, the fastest ever. It is even bleaker to learn that such species extinction is the direct effect of human action – in particular, animal agriculture. Since the industrial revolution, we have drained the earth of its natural resources, with little support to replace them.

Our relationship with nature, and animals, has changed. Once governed by seasons and sunlight, we are now instilled with clock-time and working hours. Once directly involved with the fruits of our labour, we now become cogs in machines that turn our labour into commodities; we have no relationship with the end-product. We have commodified nature in the same way – once revered for its majesty, it is now another way to make a profit. Animals are viewed similarly, not as the sentient beings they are who deserve fundamental rights, but as another means to generate money. Like the earth’s soil, trees and oceans, animals are treated with dismissal and ignorance in favour of capital gain; they are just raw material for the machine. Indeed, many consume animals with this same ideology – animal flesh becomes a commodified good on their plate, with little thought given to how it got there, or the feeling life behind the ‘meat’.

Such mechanisation of nature and animals has created widespread loss. It is frightening that a recent study by scientists at London’s Natural History Museum shows that almost half of Britain’s natural biodiversity has vanished since the agricultural and industrial revolutions – one of the worst-rated nations for biodiversity integrity. And, as the recent study in People and Nature concludes, animals have disappeared from books since this time too. This seems to be a circle of fire – animals are reducing in fiction as they reduce in the real world, but as our awareness of animals decreases, do we care less to help them stay? If animals took a more prominent place in literature, could this change how they are treated by humans?

In adult fiction, the number of animals has declined. The most famous book that springs to mind concerning animals is George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Ironically, this does little to the justice of animals and is instead an allegory for humankind and the Russian Revolution of 1917. 

It is evident that the one area of literature still rich with animal characters is children’s literature. Most animals in these stories take on human-like characteristics. Such anthropomorphism is critiqued by many animal rights advocates – with concerns that it detracts from those creatures’ own individualities and desires and limits our biological understanding of different species. Another criticism is that most animals in fiction are sweet and fluffy somehow – are there many books depicting shrimps or lizards or cockroaches? However, if all animals are anthropomorphised to simply showcase human characteristics, does it matter what species are portrayed? Would it not be more worthwhile to depict animals as they are, rather than how we would like them to be? Piers Today argues that even the best attempts to write non-humancentric animals are “pure projection”.

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Whilst this may be true – we do know for certain that animals experience a range of emotions that we do. Anthropomorphising can open a dialogue about animals and what they do feel; it can teach us that animals matter morally. Their presence in children’s literature cannot be underestimated – children need to have these animals amongst their pages in order to connect with and appreciate them. Animal characters can create opportunities for children to discover animals they haven’t heard of – and try and learn more about them, perhaps. Crucially, animals in fiction are essential in order to build empathy towards other creatures; without this empathy, there is no hope to end animal oppression and extinction.

Indeed, another aspect of the People and Nature study found that species-specific words declined in books after 1835 – such as reference to ‘oak’ morphing into the more general ‘trees’. In 2007, after the Oxford Junior Dictionary discarded many nature associated words from its pages in favour of ‘modern’ words (such as ‘broadband’) – there was an outcry. The OJD’s decision was based on the dying frequency of the use of these nature words amongst children – and argued their dictionary needs to reflect the lexis of modern children. Words such as ‘conker’ ‘kingfisher’ ‘otter’ and ‘blackberry’ vanished from the pages. Many authors felt deep concerns about this – especially given the decrease in children’s outdoor play. In retaliation to this language omission, Robert Mcfarlane and Jackie Morris created The Lost Words, a beautiful book of ‘spells’ that reinstates the missing words from the OJD alongside illustrations. These ‘spells’ are designed to be read aloud – to reaffirm the place of these natural wonders and animals back into children’s minds, imaginations and hearts.

Mcfarlane says of the book: "We’ve got more than 50% of species in decline. And names, good names, well used can help us see and they help us care. We find it hard to love what we cannot give a name to. And what we do not love we will not save.”

Whilst it is true that we do find it easier to find meaning in those things we can name – and our experiences of the world are so often defined (or constricted) by language – it is important to note that in the case of the natural world and all its creatures, we do not need to love them to be able to treat them morally. As Peter Singer argues in his book Animal Liberation – many ‘animal lovers’ continue to support the widespread exploitation and abuse of animals. They may love their companion animals (‘pets’), but eat meat, eggs, dairy, buy leather and use make-up tested on animals. Meanwhile, to be an animal advocate does not mean you must love animals.  Singer writes: “The assumption that in order to be interested in such matters one must be an ‘animal lover’ is itself an indication of the absence of the slightest inkling that moral standards that we apply among human beings might extend to other animals.”

Thus, the presence of animals (and other natural phenomena) are essential in fiction, particularly children’s, not only so that we can build empathy for these creatures, but also just so we know they exist at all. As Mcfarlane says: “Just as nature’s names are vanishing from the language of children, nature itself is vanishing. Forgetting is an easy way to lose things – as each generation becomes more at ease with less nature, we forget what it is that we’ve lost”

 “Keeping everyday nature alive in the words and stories of children in particular – who are the ones who will grow up and decide what to save and what to lose – seems to me vital.”

Animals must be included in books – to omit them is another step towards their mistreatment.

Nina Copleston is a writer and non-human animal rights champion. Having been concerned with social justice issues such as disability rights and homelessness for years, Nina turned her attention to the rights of non-human animals and the moral inconsistencies rife within society's attitudes towards animals. Determined to make a difference, Nina hopes to highlight these inconsistencies with her writing.

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