By Benjamin Capps Ph.D
Associate Professor in Clinical Ethics at Dalhousie University, Nova Scotia, Canada | Member of Humanimal Trust Science Committee
I am an academic philosopher – a bioethicist. I once worked in molecular genetics and also had a law school education. My professional career started at Bristol University Medical School, and, via seven years at the Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine in Singapore, I ended up on the eastern side of Canada. Here, at Dalhousie University’s medical school, I was head of a pre-clerkship course in Professional Competencies that combines the social aspects of medicine with clinical skills. I am the chair of the Human Genome Organisation’s Committee on Ethics, Law and Society and I am a member of Humanimal Trust’s Science Committee.
How does all this connect to Humanimal Trust’s mission? I see it in two parts:
- A practical aim – encouraging collaboration between human and veterinary medicine.
- An ethical aim – ensuring these collaborations benefit both humans and animals equally.
Humanimal Trust calls this One Medicine. But not every partnership automatically meets the ethical goal. To understand why, it helps to look at the ideas that shape our thinking across science, ethics, and society.
The Challenge of Collaboration
Across my work in medical schools, there is still a view that “planetary health” matters only to humans. This is understandable, because medical training focuses strongly on public and global health. But it can unintentionally reinforce the idea that humans are separate from the natural world.
Margaret Atwood described this divide as a clash between two world views: the ‘cold, hard, numerical real world’ of science, and the ‘flossy’ world of philosophy. Her ‘MaddAddam trilogy’ – Oryx and Crake, The Year of the Flood, and MaddAddam – imagines a future dystopian world shaped by technological fixes, economic excesses, and a neglect of nature. That division was factually based on the environmental harms first seen during the rampant industrial growth of the 60’s; and then redefined in the ‘Science Wars’ of the 1980’s between ‘experts’ speaking for science fact, and those engaging in social interactions.
But philosophical environmentalism might be seen as a companion to science – not just a ‘nature crisis’ backed by solid scientific evidence, but also an ethical understanding that nature is vital for our health and wellbeing. This is my opinion, based on a sense that nature is scientifically and philosophically understandable; after all, the Earth has always been our life support, nature surrounds every social culture, and we can’t live anywhere else (and such ambitious are reckless). The scientific idea of a human–nature pairing doesn’t have to be negative. It can simply show a long tradition of respecting the natural world. Shakespeare captured this in As You Like It when he wrote that we can hear “tongues in trees, books in brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.” As the nature writer Paul J. Willis explains, Shakespeare was using the old idea of the “book of nature” to show that people relate to nature in different ways: some talk about its value, some learn directly from it; science can be just as much of that narrative.
Historian Roy Porter said that the Enlightenment (a period defined by reason and science in the 18th century) treated Nature as a key idea, full of environmental ideals as well as the contradictions that we tend to call out. Many of the era’s scientific giants valued nature: for example, Charles Darwin said that bees make “excellent botanists”. Today, though, nature can also feel unsettling, especially after COVID19, because it contains unknown viruses. This has led some to argue that we should use technology to “shape evolution,” since nature itself has no moral direction. If you’re curious how that might turn out, Margaret Atwood’s novels offer a strong warning.
This is where a related concept of One Health comes in: human health cannot be seen in isolation from the health of animals or the environment; or, to put it another way, animals don’t naturally start pandemics like COVID-19 but become the vectors because of how humans treat them. A One Health strategy doesn’t start with technologies to detect the next dangerous disease early (before it’s too late) or relying on publichealth measures once it starts spreading. It starts with treating animals better even when no disease is present. If we see animal and human health as connected, then improving the conditions animals live in makes it much less likely that a new disease will “jump” from animals to people and cause the next pandemic.
One Health suggests animal welfare is equal to that of human wellbeing. But One Health can be directly traced to the origins of One Medicine. The idea of One Medicine began in the 19th century, when new scientific fields were emerging. Early supporters argued that human medicine couldn’t advance on its own, instead it needed to work closely with the developing veterinary profession.
But that story is rarely taught in the Medical Schools I have worked in: the idea that medical knowledge is deeply connected to nature has largely been lost in medical training. Medical schools often focus on the social factors that influence health, which fall under public health. As a result, there is little room left to explore how environmental or ecological factors affect human health; these are areas where collaboration with veterinarians and other environmental experts would be especially valuable.
The story of One Medicine tells us that you can’t understand the history of human health without recognising the animals that have always lived alongside us. In the same way, it doesn’t make sense to try to improve people’s health while ignoring nature.
Through the work of Humanimal Trust, the fact that there is ‘but One Medicine’ provides opportunities for collaborative research that truly does benefit both humans and animals; that is, research that advances human and animal healthcare but not at the expense of an animal’s life. Through its funding opportunities, it is at the forefront of breaking down disciplinary barriers.
Observations on a Philosophical Way Forward
In 2024, I organised a workshop funded by the Brocher Foundation in Geneva.(1) The purpose of the meeting was to help the Human Genome Organisation (HUGO) project broaden its focus beyond humans alone and consider how environmental genetics, shaped by climate change and biodiversity loss, are also part of the story. HUGO was originally created to support global coordination for the Human Genome Project. The release of the complete human reference genome in 2001 launched the “Genomic Era,” in which genetic sequencing became a routine part of diagnosing and treating disease.
In the ecological sciences, genomics is used in very different but complementary ways: to monitor global biodiversity loss, repair damaged ecosystems, track humandriven environmental change, and build models that show how species interact. In Geneva, we discussed how scientists working in human genomics might collaborate more closely with experts in ecology and veterinary science. We realised, though, that such collaboration would be easier if we understood the values we share. If we could make these common values clear, it would allow our fields, borrowing Stephen Jay Gould’s phrase, to “jump together.”
In my opinion, One Medicine reflects such sharing of common values. This shouldn’t be that controversial: modern biology acknowledges the fact that all life has evolved and that highlights what humans and animals share, rather than what sets us apart. And yet the medical case that all life should be studied collaboratively seems to have to be made over again.
So, does it matter whether we’re talking about One Health or One Medicine? In my work, I’ve argued that One Health is important precisely because it isn’t the same as public health. One Medicine has its own values. But both approaches can be pursued side by side. And yet much of current practice under One Health still has humans at the heart of it; in practice, this means that opportunities and funding given to the new idea often end up strengthening the same systems that are already in place. And, in my opinion, One Medicine has yet to have a modern “rebirth” like One Health. Now is the time to grasp an opportunity to challenge beliefs: even though medical care has been provided for animals since ancient times and has shaped the one history of medicine, animal health is still sometimes treated as a separate or secondary branch.
Closing Remarks
I’ve only been able to touch upon the philosophy underlying my work. But I can close with some practical observations. Firstly, as any philosopher worth their salt will tell you, definitions matter. The origins of One Medicine lie with the American physician Benjamin Rush (1746–1813). His simple claim that there is ‘only one medicine’ also showed compassion for the working animals whose lives were closely tied to ours – he saw these every day as a physician. In Canada, there is very little recognition of One Medicine, despite the ‘Father of Modern Medicine’ – a Canadian, William Osler (1849-1919) – being connected to its early practice. Osler was outspoken about the benefits of ‘vivisection’ – surgical and other experiments conducted on live and often anaesthetised animals. And another pioneer of One Medicine – the veterinary epidemiologist Calvin Schwab (1927-2006) – claimed, “‘All creatures great and small’ includes above all our own species.” Concepts evolve – and it is important to capture what One Medicine means now: One Medicine is not One Health. And that has a practical consequence: definitions are fixed in the laws governments make. Definitions shape where funding goes. And these priorities influence what is taught in education and training, and even what people discuss ‘politically’. Over time, all this shapes how we think about health, nature, and the environment.
And in case you think this is all ‘academic,’ I can point to a real debate that is playing out this side of the pond (evident in much of the press coverage here) in respect to the UK’s ban on boiling lobsters while they are alive. As part of the Labour government’s strategy to improve animal welfare,(2) the ban had cross party support (and there are similar bans in Switzerland, Norway and New Zealand). Canada provides over half of the world’s supply of lobsters and is worth many billions of dollars. And the concern is that the growing number of national bans could impact Canada (likewise, the ban faced resistance from the UK’s shellfish industry, in light of enforcement also being difficult).
The UK ban does not impact killing lobsters for food per se, but even in its limited application, it is still perceived by some as scientifically misinformed: that it is a question of whether lobsters are ‘sentient’ – that is, can ‘feel pain’ or more precisely, sense in the same way to human beings. Peter Singer famously argued in Animal Liberation (1975) that all sentient animals matter because they suffer (but at one time he thought it was unlikely that oysters feel pain).(3) The debate, once again, is about whether acknowledging animal welfare should go so far that it justifies banning practices that cause suffering. In this case, banning a single practice, boiling animals alive, raises concerns that it harms the interests of certain industries.
So, it’s unlikely that Canada’s lobster industry will shift its response, even if everyone involved tries to work together. There’s simply too much practical distance between the people who benefit from the industry and the people calling for change. Much like the way some still argue that invasive animal research is essential—even when evidence suggests it often provides little modern benefit. If such cooking techniques are unnecessary, then aren’t there relatively easy changes society can make to be less cruel to animals? But often that distance, philosophically speaking, is vast – in animal law, for example, a New York court concluded that granting rights to an elephant called Happy, captive in Brox Zoo, risked “enormous destabilising impacts” and “perilous implications” for the agricultural industry and medical research efforts.(4) Given the weak logical connection between these interests and Happy’s situation, the court’s decision seems unfair at best; and it’s also unscientific when connected by One Medicine. So, solutions are only possible if we ‘jump together.’ For example, by emphasising that humans are animals too, and that understanding the causes of illness (both medical and environmental) requires looking at the connections between species, or that animals have interests worth protecting. These naturally and scientifically make a case to treat animals fairly, and to admonish cruel and unnecessary practices; it makes joint learning and collaboration worthwhile.
If we did more One Medicine in medical schools, then some of these students could go on to be leaders in espousing such values. They could be the ones to undertake observational and clinical-based research showing that human and veterinary medicine can work together and achieve much without harming animals. And it ought to go without saying that the weight of evidence requires acknowledging animals suffer at our hands – these leaders can speak to this from their expertise, using evidence, and showing compassion. One Medicine is a reflective point to ban cruel practices towards animals, just as important as the Theory of Evolution that changed our fundamental relationship with animals, or the modern discovery of the sense of wellbeing, and even imagination, we share with them. (5)
1) For the technical report, see, Capps, B., et al. 2025. The Ecological Genome Project and the Promises of Ecogenomics for Society: Realising a Shared Vision as One Health. Bioethics 39: 788-795.
2) Animal Welfare Strategy for England. Hansard; Volume 779: debated on Wednesday 21 January 2026. https://hansard.parliament.uk/commons/2026-01-21/debates/EC63BF37-555F-4ADB-94BD-266E8208D610/AnimalWelfareStrategyForEngland
3) We’ll put to one side the philosophical question of how sentience relates to concepts such as consciousness.
4) Capps, B. 2023. What do Chimeras Think About? Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics 32: 496-514.
5) Bastos, A. and Krupenye, C. 2026. Evidence for Representation of Pretend Objects by Kanzi, a Language-Trained Bonobo. Science 391: 583-586.
Human and animal health professionals and researchers can also read a more in depth version of the blog in our One Medicine Network: https://humanimaltrust.org.uk/join-the-one-medicine-network/
Author Bio
Ben is an Associate Professor in the Department of Bioethics, Faculty of Medicine, at Dalhousie University. His work investigates issues relating to the link between applied ethics, normative theory, and philosophy of law. His overall aim is to impart substantive ethical grounding and critique that has professional and wider social impact. The following opinions expressed are his own and do not represent those of Dalhousie University or any other organisation mentioned.
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