As I was sitting outside enjoying the beauty of nature one evening, it dawned on me that human beings as a whole are a rather presumptuous bunch. I include myself in that generalization, because it took me nineteen years of living before the mere idea that plants could possibly have souls even occurred to me. I had always taken the idea of human beings having souls for granted, as most people do, and I am a firm believer that animals have souls as well. But in nineteen years, I had never even wondered about the possibility of plants being besouled. However, over the last year, I have not been able to shake that thought, and the more I ponder it, the more logical it seems to me. When I ask the question now, "Do plants have souls?" the answer seems more than obvious; by the standards that we tend to accept as a whole, how could they not?
Human beings have souls; a majority of people take that statement as fact. This majority believes fully and completely that there is more to the unique individuality of each human being than simply the differences in their bodies or brains. Some call this certain something the soul, some the psyche, and some simply think of it as personality, purpose, emotions, or instinctive beliefs. There is no consensus as of yet as to what a soul actually is, but most people hold the belief that we all have one. Do animals have souls as well? The jury is still out on that issue. I can remember being told by a teacher as a young child that my pets were not going to go to Heaven because they had no souls. However, I believe that anyone who has ever truly loved a pet knows that there is more to an animal than a furry coat and an appetite for affection.
For those who believe that both human beings and animals have souls, when asked why a table or a pencil would not also have a soul, they would more than likely respond that only living things are capable of having souls. So why, then, is it such a laughable idea to some that plants have souls as well? Plants live. Plants grow. Plants have needs to be met. Plants fulfill our needs in more ways than one. Plants have purpose. Gardeners would tell you that some plants even seem to have unique personalities. It seems obvious to me that in the same way that there is more to a human than its body, there is more to a tree than its bark.
One might ask at this point why it even matters; plants have no brains with which to feel inferior nor eyes or ears to perceive our condescension. It is my opinion that the question of plants having souls is not one of satisfying the plant, but one of making ourselves better people. As self-righteous as the human race tends to be, I feel that we should at least do all that is in our power to improve ourselves; this includes recognizing that we are not as superior as we would like to believe. When one makes the statement that it does not matter whether or not a plant has a soul because of the aforementioned reason, one must then go on to ask themselves if a brain-dead human being, one who could no longer perceive others' emotions nor see or hear others, is still worthy of respect; would that being still have a soul? We tend to indirectly and unconsciously associate the way we treat living versus non-living things with our perception of whether or not they possess souls; how are they worthy of being treated? If in anger, one hurts another human or an animal, that is abuse; if in the same state of mind one hurts an inanimate object, that action is on the same level with hurting a non-conscious living thing, a plant: fairly well accepted in our society. This is not to say that mowing a lawn or weeding a garden should be punishable by law, but to say that perhaps we should treat nature with a little more respect; perhaps destroying a forest to make way for a new mini-mall should be considered shameful. The question of whether or not plants have souls is important because the answer determines not only what kind of being a plant is, besouled or simply matter, but also because it helps examine and define our own nature and actions.
I think that Aristotle would have agreed with me that the question itself is important, but I know for a fact that his answer to that question was a definitive and matter-of-fact, "yes." Aristotle believed in a three-tiered hierarchy of the soul. The most basic level of his hierarchy was the need level, which established the necessity of nourishment. The succeeding level was the want level, a level fueled by desire for pleasure. And the uppermost level was a level of thought, which included critical and intellectual thinking and coordination of plans. Aristotle believed that only human beings could achieve the thought level, and in achieving it, accumulated the first two levels. He did not believe, however, that simply because a human could reach the top level that all beings that we think of as humans did reach it. He believed that some beings existed which only looked and acted like humans, but in all actuality had only achieved the second level; their souls were only the souls of animals, filled with want. The bottom level of this hierarchy, though, was reserved for plants, those beings that had no want, but only fundamental needs. So, though Aristotle viewed plants as having only achieved the lowest level in the hierarchy of the soul, he undoubtably believed that they had fulfilled the requirements of this first level, and therefore were the simplest of the besouled beings. To Aristotle, being alive and having a soul went hand in hand; it was not possible to have one without the other. As all things that are alive have needs, and fundamental need is the basic requirement for a soul, all living things indeed have souls. If a thing has needs, that thing also has a soul, and that soul determines what the thing is.
No one can dispute that a plant is alive, nor that a plant has needs, needs, in fact, that differ from plant to plant just as human needs differ. But, despite Aristotle's logic, some find the very idea of a plant having a soul to be absurd. It is my belief that this opinion stems from our perception of what a soul is and how it is expressed. The dictionary defines a soul as "the central and vital part of something." I believe that when it comes down to the basics, a soul is the uniqueness and purpose in every living thing, that untouchable, untestable part of something that makes it different from anything else. Anyone who has ever known a pair of identical twins knows that the two people who make up the pair are very different, despite the fact that they look the same, have the same DNA, and were raised in the same environment by the same parents. Looking past psychology and physiology, the soul is what gives that uniqueness and purpose. The problem with this perception of the soul is that many people are under the impression that if that uniqueness and purpose cannot be expressed in words or actions, they do not exist. Human beings and animals have bodies and mouths with which to express those qualities, and five senses and a brain to process those qualities in others. Who are we to say that because a plant cannot physically communicate with us that there is nothing to communicate? Again, to use the example of the brain-dead human being, does he or she not still have a soul in spite of the fact that it cannot be expressed physically? Aristotle would say that they did. In fact, because they lack the capacity to want or think intellectually, Aristotle might say that that person had suffered a loss and now possessed the soul of a plant.
Plants certainly fulfill the requirements for this uniqueness and purpose. Plants, of course, have their general and well known purposes; in the way that only human beings can construct buildings, there are jobs that only plants can fulfill. However, the capacity for building does not define our soul, just as giving shade, nourishment, and fresh air does not define or even prove a plant's soul. But in the same way that working for Habitat For Humanity is different than bulldozing a forest to construct a massive subdivision, and that difference can tell us something about the people involved, the different jobs of different plants should tell us something about them. Some plants cannot provide shade whereas others cannot provide nourishment; these are differences that demonstrate the specific purpose of the plant in question. But moving past the obvious purposes, plants also contribute to us in a more subtle way, one that shows me beyond doubt that each plant has a unique significance: plants affect our emotions. A flower provides no nourishment or shade, but can affect our emotions in many different ways. When we are given flowers, we feel cared for. Perhaps each flower has its own unique life plan, some flowers destined for Valentines Day bouquets, some for funeral arrangements. Perhaps, as Christianity teaches us, God has a plan for each and every blade of grass.
It seems obvious to me that plants possess the uniqueness and purpose, individual to each, that, to me, define a soul, but for those who think of a soul in terms of personality, it is arguable that plants have distinctive personalities as well. Of course, different types of plants have their own appearances, sizes, and smells, but plants of the same genre still exhibit differences from each other. Each plant has its own capacity for growth, ambition, if you will. If you have ever planted a garden, you know this. You can plant a row of identical bulbs in identical soil which receives identical sunlight and precipitation, but some will thrive and some will not, like humans. Plants also seem to have different needs within the same genre. Everyone knows that a cactus needs less water than an iris, but when caring for many irises, some may seem to drink more than others; gardeners will attest to the fact that some plants seem to have special needs or preferences.
Despite all of the ways that plants exude individuality, some people will still object to the idea of plants having souls. Some people believe that if we as human beings have souls, plants are simply too different from us to share that property; we share very little else with plants, why should we share the quality of being besouled? On many levels we are very different from plants, but simultaneously, we are also more alike than most of us would like to admit. Plants grow and flourish, reproduce, drink the same water and breathe the same air that we do, and eventually die, sometimes from disease, like humans. Plants live out their lives in a similar way to both humans and animals, although, of course, there are some technical differences. But beyond the simple pattern of life, there are similarities that strike me far more powerfully. For example, I recall hearing not too long ago about scientific research proving that plants react in a positive manner to classical music, but react in a negative manner to rock and roll. Scientists attribute this phenomenon to the way in which the different sound waves cause disturbances in the air surrounding the plant. Classical music produces smooth, repeated, peaceful waves, whereas rock music, with its loud and sometimes irregular beats, produces harsher, erratic waves. In the same way that playing classical music to a fetus, who feels rather than hears it, helps enable growth, so does playing classical music to a plant. Talking to plants in a soothing voice, as pregnant mothers tend to talk to their stomachs, has also been shown to be helpful. However, if I were to limit myself to the one example that surpasses all others of plants exhibiting a human quality, and simultaneously the one example that stands out in my mind the most when I ponder the question of plants having souls, it would be their overwhelming determination, their quest for life. We live in a world so abundantly filled with plants, although the number diminishes daily, that we frequently overlook miracles of nature. We rarely notice when a rose blooms in the middle of winter, or a lily survives the first frost, or some greenery pushes its way up through the cracks of a sidewalk. On the other hand, further demonstrating a plant's will to live, we almost always notice the onion-grass or dandelions that we cannot rid our yard of, or the weeds in our garden that always seem to come back no matter how deep we dig, or the vine that has overtaken the yard that we rip out annually. Plants have a human-like obsession with living, an overwhelming life force. This is that same brain-dead person, fighting with his or her spirit rather than body.
Aside from what I feel to be valid evidence that plants do have souls, and aside from Aristotle's own deep and highly complex view of the soul, which only reinforces my observational reasoning, the possibility that I am wrong remains. As sad as it is, one can never know for a fact either way, one can only ponder and theorize until they reach their own personal conclusion on this issue. For some, that is enough to discount my opinion in itself. For purely scientific minds, if an issue cannot be proven to be so, by default, it is disproved; everything that is, is not until it is proven. Some look beyond this black or white, yes or no way of viewing the world, and are still not satisfied with Aristotle's logic nor mine. Plants are non-conscious and are incapable of action; they can only react. So, under certain circumstances, are some humans. And on a deeper level, what is action? If action simply means bodily movement, that is one thing. But if action actually means something on a grander scale, if action means doing one small part to make a positive change in the world, then I say that plants are more capable of action than some human beings. Of course, Aristotle would say that those humans of which I speak are only animals in human form.
For those who believe that a soul is nothing of what I have spoken of here, but is only a manifestation of innate and instinctive morals, beliefs, and values, or simply the explanation for one's having those characteristics, the question posed here will remain unanswered. Because plants lack brains, and neuroscientists have located the areas of the brain, in humans and animals, that, when stimulated, cause emotion, one can assume that no brain means no emotions, and no emotions no strong beliefs, and without strong beliefs, there can be no morals or values. That is only an assumption, however, because while stimulation of the brain causes emotion, it has not been proven that stimulation of the brain is the only root of emotion. But, of course, neuroscientists are of the belief that I spoke of above, therefore, if it cannot be proven so, it is not. For those who believe that a soul has more to do with emotions and their products than any other aforementioned criteria, I suppose it would be up to their innate belief system, their souls, as to whether or not they believe that plants are capable of emotion.
Of course, I can understand these doubts. It is difficult for anyone, myself included, although I cannot speak for Aristotle, to believe fully and completely in something that cannot be seen or proven. However, many people who do not believe that plants have souls, for that reason, do believe in souls in general, which also cannot be seen or proven. I believe that plants are besouled because I find it even more difficult not to. I am, though, going into psychology, a scientific profession, and can see the validity in needing proof before deciding that something is; of course scientific logic and proof have a bearing on what is, if not, we would not have come so unbelievably far in the medical field as technology and methods of testing for proof have improved. I do not, however, believe that if something cannot be proven to be, that it is automatically disproved; I prefer to think of it as yet to be proven.
As for the inanimate nature of plants, I can also understand how that trait would instill doubt as to whether or not they have souls. Plants, besouled or not, are incapable by nature of showing that they are. This was a major hindrance for me when I began writing this paper. But, like Aristotle, there was simply something inside me that leaned very strongly toward the belief that plants do have souls. And the more that I thought about it, the more reasons from inside that I located and laid on paper, the more I found that those reasons outweighed the plant's stillness and silence on the subject. Again, it takes me back to human beings, which I, along with the majority, believe to be besouled. Some humans, from birth, are incapable of movement; it would be inconsistent for someone who believes in the besouled human to think that that excluded these particular humans from possessing souls.
Which leads me to my last point: some humans, also, are alive but lack a functioning brain. Whether or not this prohibits them from emotion, we cannot know, but again, I prefer to believe that, emotional or not, these humans still have souls. However, I do understand, and relate to, the concern of emotions and value systems in regard to the soul, as well. If all a soul really is is the set of instinctive morals and values unique to each being, and those morals and values are based in emotion, then, using only the proof we have at this moment, plants would not have souls. And neither would humans without functioning brains.
What the entire debate comes down to is, again, our own set of instilled beliefs. The question of plants having souls is one that each person must answer on their own, and the answer will be different for everyone. We will all have our evidence, and the problem is that all of the evidence is valid. Through evolution, we have not yet seen a change in the consciousness or animation of plant life, so I have no reason to believe that generations from now plants will be able to weigh in on this topic. The difficulty with that statement is that unless they do, and perhaps even then, this challenge will remain unsolvable, each solution based solely on opinion. I prefer to side with one of the greatest thinkers in history, Aristotle, on this matter. And, actually, Aristotle proves another point in this matter, one that is hardly debatable. Considering that he voiced his opinion on this issue hundreds of years ago, and I find it important enough to weigh in on now, he proves that this question is not a fleeting one. Until a definitive answer is found, the human mind will continue to ponder this problem. Whether or not plants have a stance as well, that one has to decide for their self.
© jessica huby, 2003
