Are Animals People Too?

By Dr. Scott Yenor

Not every topic you face in life has a Scripture verse that directly applies, and animal rights falls into this category. In these situations, we give God thanks for the gift of reason. Lutherans make a distinction of ministerial and magisterial uses of reason: the first uses reason led by Scripture, while the second uses reason to rule over Scripture. The first is good. The second is not. Building on scriptural truth, Scott Yenor demonstrates that ministerial use to help you think through so-called animal rights. We invite you to read it with a snack of your choice. -Editor

We can eat a cow but should not hurt one. Does the right to kill and consume animals include the seemingly lesser rights to kick, skin, beat, or inflict pain? How we think about animal rights tells us much about the moral universe we inhabit.

One approach to animal rights emphasizes a moral principle: Neither a beater nor an eater be. The reasoning behind this principle seems solid. Animals are God’s creatures, and it is wrong to beat them just for kicks. Animals do not exist simply for our amusement. Since we have other options when it comes to the table (breads, vegetables, and chocolate), we eat animals to suit our taste not because we need to. Our tastes should not be allowed to violate the dignity of the animal. This leads to a position in which we would neither eat meat, nor wear the hides of animals, nor permit animals to be used for medical or cosmetic tests.

Another approach to animal rights emphasizes rank. Human beings are the pinnacle of creation and sovereign over animals. Put another way, since human beings are the most powerful, lesser creatures must to endure what we choose. If they were in charge, we would expect no less from them.

Both approaches analyze the morality of the act from within the act itself. Consequently, both methods view all acts of cruelty to be equal, though one condemns them all and the other permits them all. Both approaches also promise a high degree of clarity to guide our moral life. Vegetarians can feel pure, just as dominators can feel excused.

Let me deal with the issue of hypocrisy before proceeding. It is easy to take a secret joy from pointing out the hypocrisies of vegetarians. Many may actually own animals as pets, for instance. Is it right to own animals? We have a word for owning a dignified creature: slavery. Ownership implies that the thing owned is useful to the owner, or at least that the owner is both different than and superior to the thing owned. It points to the idea of rank, in other words, and away from the principles of the vegetarian. The point here is not that vegetarians are hypocrites; it is that the moral situation is a great deal more complicated than they thought.

Must we choose between these approaches? No. As the example of ownership shows, we should think about how best to unite these two approaches instead of trying to pick the best single principle. Justice demands that equals be treated equally and un-equals unequally. Animals are not our equals, but that doesn’t mean that they are nothing. The moral life is complex; the Law is not necessarily crystal clear; and our thinking faculties are compromised by our imperfect, sinful natures. How then shall we think? Carefully, knowing that we are forgiven for our errors and sins. We should also think charitably, knowing that our vegetarian friends contain an element of truth, as do our friends that hunt for sport.

We have it on high authority that man is the apex of creation and that he has dominion over the animals and all that is in the world. Man is not to be a tyrant, but to act as a responsible steward of all that God has created. How can we distinguish a tyrant from a steward? We must also introduce the important concept of ends or purposes into our discussion. We cannot make the distinction between a tyrant and a steward by looking at the acts themselves. A responsible steward may be able to kill a dog just as a tyrant would kill one, but the fact that the steward puts an irretrievably ill golden retriever to sleep does not make him an animal killer.

The rule of stewardship seems to be this: Animals are lower than human beings, so we can use them, but the uses must be legitimate, necessary, and humane. Animals eat each other raw. Human beings don’t eat living flesh or blood. Eating raw meat is disgusting, in any event. This is an indication of man’s moral freedom and his responsibility, which allows him to use animals and to eat animals.

The devil is in the details, which means that it gets difficult when we get down to particulars. Eating is necessary for survival. The problem here is that human beings have notoriously expansive and ever-changing ideas about what is necessary. Certainly Adam—or George Washington—never thought of scientific testing of animals as necessary. We moderns may well have such a thought because our ideas of what the legitimate ends for which animals can be used as means have changed. Our creativeness means that we no longer need fur for clothes (fleece does just fine in keeping us warm), but we seem to need animal testing. The vegetarian attitude is a late-flowering product of civilization—a civilization that itself was built upon the use of animals; it is a convenience that a prosperous, scientifically advanced society can afford.

What is our bottom line? Use animals, but only for legitimate ends and in a humane way. Recognize our superiority to animals, but do not hold animals in contempt. Remember that you are forgiven when you fall short of the right balance among these competing principles.

Dr. Scott Yenor teaches political science at Boise State University. He has never eaten a pet, but he has eaten many a steak. His e-mail address is syenor@boisestate.edu.