The distinguished jurist undoubtedly believed that by these repeated interrogations he had reached a complete denial of the secrecy of experimentation so far as the witness was concerned.
On the day following, the same professor of physiology continued his evidence, and another member of the Commission—A. J. Ram, Esq.—"one of our counsel learned in the law," took part in the examination. "One hears a good deal in lay papers and so forth about experiments conducted with closed doors. IS THERE ANYTHING OF THAT SORT AT ALL?" The very form of his inquiry would seem to indicate his disbelief in the practice of secret vivisection. His question, however, admitted of two different replies. The physiologist might assert the necessary seclusion of physiological experimentation, or he might construe the question in a literal sense as pertaining merely to the locking of his inner door. He preferred the latter course. "I have ever come across a laboratory where there were any closed doors. In my laboratory any student wanting to speak to me walks straight in. The door of my laboratory, where I do the chief part of my work, IS ALWAYS OPEN TO THE PASSAGE."
This is very clever. The two leading lawyers of the Commission have sought to get at the truth concerning the secrecy of vivisection, and apparently are quite satisfied. But some hours later another member of the Commission, a plain Member of Parliament, without skill of fence or experience in the examination of witnesses, asks a question or two. "You have told us," said Mr. Tomkinson, "that any medical man, on presenting his card, can obtain admission at once to a laboratory?"
Here was an inquiry that could be answered but in one way. "No," replied the physiologist; "to the advanced physiological lectures which are given in the University of London." "NOT TO WITNESS ANY OPERATION?" "No; only to witness the demonstrations that are given in those lectures." "But might not the public be more satisfied if a layman—a Member of Parliament, for example—had the right of entry on presenting his card?" "Do you mean to the advanced lectures or to the laboratory?" "I mean to an operation IN THE LABORATORY: say a Member of Parliament or anyone whose position is assured?" "I should be only too pleased to see any Member of Parliament or any layman who had any doubt about it if he presented his card, but I SHOULD HAVE TO BE SATISFIED OF HIS BONA FIDES."
It is a pity that no one thought to ask the physiologist how he expected a Member of Parliament to prove his "good faith" before he could enter precincts open to every student of the University. Sir William Church came to his assistance by suggesting that the professor would admit anyone "vouched for" by a person whom you know, or whose position you know; but the curt monosyllabic reply was not indicative of a welcome, and it was quite different from the conditions which had just been laid down. The doors of the laboratory are "open," but only to those in whose silence and discretion the vivisector may trust.
A considerable amount of testimony was devoted to the alleged painfulness of vivisection. It is the great problem. If the absence of sensation were a certainty in all operations of the kind, there would be no reasonable objection to them, no matter to what extent they might be carried. The physiologists of the present day occupy a somewhat different attitude from those of half a century ago, or of yet later periods. Thirty years ago, one of the leading experimenters in England declared that he had "no regard at all" for the pain inflicted upon a vivisected animal; that he never used anaesthetics except when necessary for personal convenience; and that he had "no time, so to speak, for thinking what the animal will suffer." We find no such profession of indifference in the testimony of modern physiologists. What seems to take its place is, in many cases, a denial of the existence of pain in the experimentation of the present day. Does anything here turn upon a definition of words? A professor at King's College, London, giving his testimony, affirmed that "no student in England has EVER SEEN PAIN in an animal experiment"—a statement which in one sense everyone can accept, for who can say that he ever SAW a pain anywhere? Professor Starling, of the University College in London, declared that during his seventeen years of experimentation "on no occasion HAVE I EVER SEEN PAIN inflicted in any experiment on dog, cat, or rabbit in a physiological laboratory in this country." The experimenter is undoubtedly correct. Neither he nor anyone else in or out of a laboratory has ever "SEEN PAIN."
Some of Dr. Starling's testimony on the subject of pain is very curious. Pain, he tells the Commissioners, "would spoil the experiment," and "A PHYSIOLOGICAL EXPERIMENT WHICH IS PAINFUL IS THEREBY A BAD EXPERIMENT." He is asked whether "there are any operations performed under circumstances in which the animal is necessarily and intentionally sensitive to some pain?" Without any apparent hesitation he replied: "NO, NEVER." Surely this is a remarkable assertion. He is not speaking, so far as one can see, of his own laboratory, but of all the laboratories of the world. If, since the discovery of anaesthesia over sixty years ago, there has been painful physiological experimentation in England, in America, or on the Continent of Europe, IT HAS BEEN BAD EXPERIMENTATION. THE PAIN INFLICTED HAS SPOILED THEIR WORK. One may not be inclined to dispute this opinion, and yet be quite certain that some very eminent vivisectors in Europe and America would question its accuracy so far as their own work is concerned.
It is interesting to compare these assertions with the testimony given by another physiologist—Dr. Pembrey, the lecturer on physiology at Guy's Hospital in London. He tells the Commission that "a common- sense view should be taken of the question," and then makes a definite admission that by no means bears out the contention of the physiologist of University College. "I ADMIT," said Dr. Pembrey, "THAT I HAVE DONE PAINFUL EXPERIMENTS, and I am not ashamed of admitting it." He goes yet further, declaring that if you caused an animal to suffer extreme agony, the pain itself might be so severe as to render the creature unconscious. It is probable that the physiologist could not have foreseen the results of his candid admissions. When the Commission made their final report, they expressed unanimously the opinion that "to grant a licence to any person holding such views as those formerly expressed by Dr. Klein and as those entertained by Dr. Pembrey is calculated to create serious misgiving in the mind of the public."
Closely allied to this question is the problem of anaesthesia. Fifty years ago ether and chloroform were administered to animals very much as they were given to human beings undergoing operations in surgery. An animal returning to consciousness gave abundant evidence of its sensibility to suffering by its struggles and cries. The experimenter might try to believe that the pain was slight, but he never disputed its existence. To-day, all this is changed. As much or as little of the anaesthetic may be given as the vivisector desires, and yet he may declare that "ANAESTHETICS WERE USED," no matter how slight the degree of sensibility thus induced. It is a known fact that a dog is very susceptible to the action of chloroform, so that during its administration death frequently occurs. Sir Thornley Stoker, the President of the Royal Academy of Medicine in Ireland, and for many years a teacher of science, testified before the Commission that a dog's heart is very weak and irregular, and susceptible to the poisonous influence of chloroform. Over and over again he expresses the doubts that arise concerning the administration of chloroform. "I fear that, particularly in the case of dogs, ANAESTHESIA IS NOT ALWAYS PUSHED TO A SUFFICIENT EXTENT, as these animals often die from the effects of the anaesthetic if given to a full extent…. I am never sure, if I give a dog chloroform, that I will not kill it…. THE ANAESTHESIA CANNOT BE COMPLETE if the dog lives as long as is necessary for some of these experiments." Even for one hour he believes it would be generally impossible to keep a dog alive under full anaesthesia. On the other hand, Dr. Starling declared that "there is no difficulty in keeping an animal alive as long as you like," and Sir Victor Horsley affirmed that one could keep a dog under chloroform "FOR A WEEK, if you only take the trouble."[1]
[1] See Minutes of Evidence, November 13, 1907, Q. 15,649.