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In new book for younger readers, ��ñ���� Professor Emeritus Marc Bekoff advocates for increasing humanity’s ‘compassion footprint’

Zebras, it turns out, are bro huggers.

In Namibia’s Etosha National Park, behavioral ecologist Caitlin O’Connell observed that male zebra leaders “wrap necks, nip and sniff one another around the head and sometimes the genitals. Then they exhibit an exaggerated chewing behavior with their teeth bared and the corners of their lips drawn up as if smiling or laughing with necks extended and ears directed forward. It really looks like they are enjoying a hilarious joke together.”

And then everyone does their business on “a communal dung pile.”

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is a ���� professor emeritus of ecology and evolutionary biology.

For a long time, conventional wisdom—and even scientific observation—would have asserted that this is merely instinctual mammalian behavior, nothing more than complex evolutionary responses to environmental and inter-group stimuli. They’re animals, after all; surely they aren’t exhibiting joy, playfulness or love?

Not so, says , a ��ñ���� professor emeritus of ecology and evolutionary biology. In his recently published book for younger readers, written with longtime collaborator Jeff Campbell, Bekoff advocates for increasing humanity’s “compassion footprint.”

“The message is to be nicer to humans, be nicer to non-humans, treat all living things with respect,” Bekoff explains. “We are never too young to hear that message and learn that lesson.”

‘Animals have thoughts and feelings’

Bekoff began learning that lesson, which became the work of his lifetime, when he felt sorry for a goldfish. Growing up in Brooklyn, New York, “everyone had the requisite goldfish in an aquarium on the kitchen counter, including my family, and I used to feel so sorry for that goldfish,” he recalls.��

He also spent hours riding his tricycle around the neighborhood, talking to all the animals he saw, and rather than being worried, his parents were supportive. “I used to tell my parents I could feel the emotions of the dogs and cats and mice and birds, I would tell them that animals have thoughts and feelings, and my parents supported it because why not?” he says.

When he was 6, he and his family moved from Brooklyn to Lynbrook on Long Island, which at the time had swaths of woods to explore. Bekoff was a good athlete and a mediocre student, but he nevertheless knew that he had to at least try to get to college if he wanted to continue building a scientific foundation beneath his observations of animals.

Jane Goodall, who would become Bekoff’s dear friend and professional collaborator, “used to say it felt wrong to harm animals and it felt right to try to learn about them, so I went to college and then I got a master’s in neurobiology, then I spent two years in a PhD/MD program disliking every day of it,” Bekoff says.

It was around that time, in the late 1960s, that famed researcher and animal behaviorist Michael Fox joined the faculty at Washington University in St. Louis. Fox, a Royal Veterinary College-trained veterinarian who also held a Doctor of Science in ethology and animal behavior, was doing exactly the sort of work that Bekoff wanted to do: non-invasive, observational science focused on animal behavior.

Fox accepted Bekoff as a graduate student, and he earned a PhD in animal behavior. After a year as an assistant professor of biology at the University of Missouri in St. Louis, he came to ���� in 1974 to study behavioral ecology and carnivore behavior.

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“The message is to be nicer to humans, be nicer to non-humans, treat all living things with respect,” says scientist and author Marc Bekoff.

“So, I got my job here, and down on 30th and Marine on East Campus, back when the Institute for Behavioral Genetics was one of the only buildings down there, I somehow got a grant and convinced the university to put in a chain link fence enclosure so we could study coyotes,” Bekoff says. “We had a few coyotes who had been rescued, and they became this beacon. Everybody went down there to see them, so much that we had to put up signs telling people not to play with them.”

From there, he studied Adélie penguins at Cape Crozier, Ross Island, Antarctica, then initiated a field project studying coyotes in Grand Teton National Park.

“I always was driven to know what animals were thinking and feeling, I knew there was a way to study this scientifically and I was really persistent because I knew I was right,” he says. “Back when I was starting out, the major school of thought was behaviorism—the idea that with animal behavior, everything is a stimulus response, and the brain is a black box that we can’t know anything about.

“I said no, there’s just got to be something going on in animals’ minds, particularly concerning what they’re feeling and what they’re calculating. These are wild animals who have difficult lives; I knew there had to be so much more going on.”

Complex emotional lives

A significant facet of Bekoff’s research has been to systematically and non-invasively observe animal behavior to gain insight into the “black box” of animal minds. In addition to the usual challenges of research, he says, was the resistance he initially encountered in the scientific community, many of whose members equated ethology—or the study of animal minds—with finger waggling and magical thinking.

“The science had to be irrefutable,” Bekoff says. “We didn’t have a choice. Michael Fox, my mentor at Washington University, was one of the first ethologists who practiced the science of watching—slow watching, slow looking, just going out and watching animals. We weren’t putting electrodes in their bodies or cutting out parts of their brains; it was uncontrolled.

“A group of us were just really persistent, getting grants and I published tons in refereed journals and published books, just keeping at it and putting it out there, and slowly but surely we had evidence showing that animals have extremely complex emotional lives.”

That growing body of evidence—gathered by Bekoff, Goodall and a community of scientists around the world—is, in part, what inspired Bekoff to write Love in their Hearts, for which Goodall wrote the foreword.

Bekoff gathered animal stories from colleagues around the globe, including O’Connell’s observations of zebra bro hugging, to embody “the universality of emotions.” The aim is not to prove that animals have emotions—“We know they do,” Bekoff says—but to bring those emotions to life for younger readers who may be interested in science, who may spend hours observing animals or who may simply love their pets and have a sense that their pets love them, too.

Love in Their Hearts also gives young readers actionable steps to help care for both animals and Earth—a compassionate conservation approach that children are never too young to learn, Bekoff says, and that he still teaches in Jane Goodall’s Roots and Shoots groups.

“It’s the basic principle of the One Health philosophy,” Bekoff says. “What’s good for animals is good for us, and what’s bad for them is bad for us. Let’s change the world for all its inhabitants.”

“What’s good for animals is good for us," says Marc Bekoff, "and what’s bad for them is bad for us. Let’s change the world for all its inhabitants.” (Photo: Dylan Shaw/Unsplash)

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