"I'm not suggesting that humans and elephants have all the same emotions. Self-loathing seems uniquely human.

"So we needn't be so fearful that we mistakenly project the emotion of, say, fear when elephants seem afraid. Certain seabird and seal species have lived for millions of years on oceanic islands hundreds of miles from continental shores. Safely distanced from continental predators in miles and in time, the seabirds and seals lack the ability to fear them. They cannot acquire needed fear when rats, cats, dogs, and people arrive by boat. They did not fly or run as people clubbed them by the millions for their feathers or fur.

"On the other hand, continental animals with a long history of being hunted by humans, fully capable of fear, relax in places safe from hunting, such as national parks. In suburban neighborhoods, animals that are usually shy – ducks, geese, deer, turkeys, and coyotes – can be calculatedly brazen. In African parks, cheetahs sometimes even hop up on vehicles full of tourists for a more commanding view of potential prey. Elephants can be fearful, aggressive, or nonchalant around humans, depending on what they've learned to expect. My point: rather than mistakenly attributing emotions that they do not experience, we have made a larger mistake by denying emotions that other animals do experience.

"So, do other animals have human emotions? Yes, they do. Do humans have animal emotions? Yes; they're largely the same. Fear, aggression, well-being, anxiety, and pleasure are the emotions of shared brain structures and shared chemistries, originated in shared ancestry. They are the shared feelings of a shared world. An elephant approaches water anticipating the relief of refreshment and the pleasures of mud. When my puppy rolls on her back to prompt me to rub her belly – again – it's because she anticipates the soothing experience of our warm contact. Even when my dogs aren't hungry, they always enjoy a treat. They enjoy a treat.

"The problem isn't 'imposing . . . a distinctly human understanding of the world.' The problem is imposing a distinctly human misunderstanding. Our deepest insight into the living world: all life is one. Their cells are our cells, their body is our body, their skeleton our skeleton, their heart, lungs, blood, ours. If we impose that distinctly human understanding, we've taken one giant stride in seeing, truly, each species within the vast living venture. Each is a distinction on a continuum, like notes on a violin's fingerboard. There for the finding. Fretless. No abrupt breaks. And quite a symphony."