I was struck recently by an article written by Pallab Ghosh, the BBC’s science correspondent, exploring a question that at first sounds almost philosophical: Are animals conscious? The article refers to the New York Declaration on Animal Consciousness – a short but powerful document stating that it is no longer possible to ignore the possibility of animal consciousness.  It reflects an increasing body of research that has persuaded some of the most influential and respected scientists in the field that a wide range of animals – not just the so-called ‘higher’ ones like apes and dolphins – may be capable of conscious experience.  This includes snakes, octopuses, crabs, bees and even fruit flies.

‘…the empirical evidence indicates at least a possibility of conscious experience in all vertebrates (including reptiles, amphibians and fishes) and many invertebrates (including, at minimum, cephalopod molluscs, decapod crustaceans, and insects.’

The New York Declaration on Animal Consciousness

Research conducted by Professor Lars Chittka of Queen Mary University of London has shown that bees modify their behaviour after a traumatic experience and appear to engage in play - rolling small wooden balls for apparent enjoyment.  Other studies have demonstrated that crayfish exhibit ‘anxiety-like’ behaviour after mild electric shocks, but are calmed by antianxiety medication; that fruit flies have their sleep patterns disturbed by social isolation; and that cleaner wrasse fish recognise themselves in a mirror – a trait long considered a marker of self-awareness. 

What may seem like a fascinating but abstract debate is, in fact, something far more significant. If animals are indeed conscious, capable of feeling and perhaps even thinking in some way analogous to us, then we may be on the cusp of a profound moral shift akin to that which brought about the end of slavery and racial segregation. Consciousness has long been the quality we associate with the moral worth of human beings. If animals share it, then can we continue to treat them as morally insignificant? Is species membership – like nationality, gender or race - just another arbitrary line we draw to justify treating others differently? 

Why should this matter to a school, or to parents reading this article? Because it speaks to the very heart of what education must be. To be truly worthwhile, education cannot only be about the transfer of knowledge or the mastery of particular skills. We simply do not know what knowledge or skills our pupils will need to thrive in 2050. Nor can moral education be based solely on rules or predictions of consequences – because both assume that we know what the future holds.

The slavers of previous centuries were, after all, often acting within the moral and legal frameworks of their time. Today, we rightly recognise those frameworks as inadequate and deeply flawed. The same may one day be said of our treatment of animals, or of our responses to migration, inequality or artificial intelligence. Rules and consequence-based approaches rely on predictability – but in a world reshaped by technology and climate change, predictability is increasingly rare.

When old frameworks fall short, we need another foundation. In this context, character education is not a luxury; it is a necessity. The world our pupils will enter is uncertain. Technological, political and social transformations are accelerating. We cannot anticipate every future development – but we can prepare our pupils to meet change with courage, humility, and responsibility.

This means helping them become young men of values rather than fixed ideologies. It means nurturing critical thinkers who are also empathetic listeners. It means encouraging them to think creatively and question old assumptions — including those that draw arbitrary boundaries around: tribe, nation, race, and perhaps even species. While we naturally feel special responsibility for those closest to us, our duties are not limited to those who are most like us.  The fact that someone is not a member of our family does not make it OK to kill, hurt - either by act or omission - or steal from them.  Neither does the fact that they were born on the other side of an arbitrary line on a map. Human history is a repeated story of expanding the moral circle and being forced to reconsider which differences really matter.

Current debates about immigration, racial justice, or the moral status of animals are not simply political or scientific questions. They are questions of character: about how we respond to those who are vulnerable, voiceless, or different. We often fall back on ‘difference’ — of appearance, background, place of birth, language or species — as a reason to exclude. But if history teaches us anything, it is that these differences seldom stand the test of time as morally relevant.

We need our pupils to be the kind of people who will ask difficult questions. Who don’t accept the status quo because it is familiar. Who will have the courage to challenge inherited assumptions — as previous generations did when confronting racism, sexism, or colonialism.

In a world where the boundaries of our moral responsibilities are still being debated and redrawn, it will not be compliance that equips our pupils to thrive, rather it is character that will be the compass that allows them to navigate a changing and complex world.