The Brain, the Heart, Reductionism, and the Horse

Monique Craig

I recently had a lovely Zoom conversation with Dr. Shelley Appleton. Our discussion meandered from hoof care and horse training to more philosophical reflections on human behavior, scientific research, and the challenges of creating change in a rigid world. What struck me most was that we both observed how many riders do not initially connect with their horses. Instead, they often struggle to shift from a position of dominance to one of participation.

By participation, I am not dismissing the importance of leadership. Leadership is an essential aspect of working with horses, but there is a profound difference between leadership and subjugation. At what point does leadership become domination? What are the roots of our need to dominate? Fear and ego are obvious contributing factors, but could this impulse run deeper than basic psychological traits?

One possible explanation is that we have become accustomed to being the dominant species on Earth. At this point in history, humans are the primary force shaping the planet. We have transformed forests into farmland, farmland into megacities, and expanded into nearly every corner of the globe. Our remarkable success has fostered a sense of superiority while distancing us from our relationship with the natural world. Unlike many earlier cultures, modern societies often lack wisdom in how we relate to our environment. We could learn a great deal from the few remaining Indigenous societies that continue to live in greater harmony with nature.

Another aspect of this disconnection stems from our educational system, particularly the influence of modern science. Contemporary scientific thinking has, in many ways, reinforced our perceived superiority over nature by suggesting that consciousness is merely a byproduct of the brain’s physical activity. As a result, we tend to regard the human brain as the pinnacle of intelligence.

There is no question that the scientific method has profoundly advanced our understanding of the world by providing a practical and rational framework for inquiry. It has brought clarity and evidence-based reasoning to many beliefs that were once accepted without question. My own research into the morphometrics and kinematics of equine limbs relies heavily on the scientific method, and I value science deeply.

At the same time, I do not subscribe to a purely materialist view of science. It is only relatively recently that many scientists have adopted an approach to inquiry based almost exclusively on a materialist paradigm. Until the late eighteenth century, science and spirituality were not generally viewed as mutually exclusive in the pursuit of truth. Many early scientists sought to understand both the physical and spiritual aspects of existence.

In contrast, much of modern science seeks to explain natural systems by analyzing their individual components in isolation. At its core, this approach often excludes concepts such as consciousness, spirit, or soul, regarding living organisms as highly sophisticated biological machines in which matter itself is unconscious.

This mechanistic perspective has contributed to a reductionist and anthropocentric worldview. It is therefore not surprising that many people struggle to relate meaningfully to horses and other forms of life. To reconnect with nature, we must first recognize the cultural and educational biases that shape our thinking.

Interestingly, some areas of scientific research have begun to question the limits of a strictly materialist framework. Researchers are exploring broader aspects of human experience, including telepathy, near-death experiences (NDEs), and consciousness itself. I believe science has the potential to expand significantly if it becomes willing to investigate phenomena that extend beyond a purely materialist paradigm.

For now, I would like to draw attention to a landmark philosophical challenge proposed by the American philosopher Thomas Nagel. Although his famous thought experiment involves bats, it could just as easily apply to horses. In its simplest form, Nagel’s argument is that bats have subjective experiences unique to their own sensory world—experiences that humans can never fully comprehend. We can study echolocation scientifically, but we cannot know what it feels like to perceive the world through sonar.

The same principle applies to horses. We cannot fully comprehend how quadrupeds perceive and experience their world. This does not mean that humans and animals are completely separated by our physical differences; rather, it reminds us that our experiences are fundamentally different. We should therefore be cautious not to project our own ideologies, assumptions, or cultural biases onto them.

Many Indigenous cultures around the world view animals as part of a broader social reality. Animals, plants, and places are regarded as kins, teachers, and spiritual partners, woven into both daily life and the sacred order of the world. They are integral to a cosmology that gives meaning, connection, and purpose to existence. This worldview transforms our impulse toward domination into one of participation, respect, and inclusion.

Horses need physical, emotional, and spiritual autonomy. We should take great care not to impose our ideologies upon them. To truly connect with horses—and with nature itself—we must learn to respect, listen, and feel.

Stay in your heart, not just your brain.