A sweeping and fascinating history of cat-human relationships.
For more than 10,000 years, cats have prowled at the edges of human life. But, starting only a few decades ago, hundreds of millions of them became pets. In Cats, Rod Phillips shares a sweeping cultural and social history of felines, tracing their shifting place across societies and centuries, from ancient Egypt's revered hunters to Europe's suspected familiars of witches and from shipboard rodent controllers to cherished internet icons.
Phillips illustrates how cats have always occupied spaces both familiar and mysterious and how their perceived independence and disruptive nature―and their associations with women, the supernatural, and outsiders―have shaped humans' attitudes toward these fascinating creatures. Cats have been lauded as companions and vermin-killers, reviled as threats to moral and ecological order, and cherished for the very qualities that make them hard to control. This richly textured portrait of cats explores their significance in religion, politics, gender, literature, warfare, and pop culture. It also provides profound insights into our relationships with other animals, especially dogs and rodents.
The many roles that cats have played throughout history illuminate a variety of contradictions in humans' perceptions of as affectionate yet aloof, adorable and evil, ordinary and exceptional. This book is the definitive story of the feline presence in human history―an elegant study of how we live with animals whom we see as living by their own rules.
I'm not sure why the author is so adamant about arguing that cats' role in Ancient Egypt has been exaggerated, and that the Egyptians didn't keep pet cats. It's genuinely sort of odd how he finds a way to explain away every piece of evidence for it. He keeps saying there's no real evidence for it, but he mentions plenty of it that he has come up with another explanation for. I don't think artists were depicting cats in houses to fill up white space; I think they were doing it because people kept pet cats in their houses. There are mummified cats buried with their owners, there are documented prayers for sick pet cats, there are images on images on images of cats interacting with people. Of course we can't definitively say that they loved cats until we have the technology to go back to 2000 AD and ask, "Hey Nefer, do you have a cat at home?" But I think the evidence that they did have pet cats and that they bonded with them is abundant enough to reasonably say that the Ancient Egyptians probably did keep pet cats.
I definitely appreciate the author taking time to deconstruct the myth of the cat-human relationship being one in which the cat is always dominant. This isn't true and contributes to negative relationships between cats and their humans. The old adage "dogs have masters, cats have staff" definitely leads humans to an idea that their cats are incapable of feeling deep affection, that they do not desire bonds with humans, and that their view of humans is overall disdainful and utilitarian.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Cats are, in fact, highly social animals who tend to live in family groups when in the wild. When living with humans, they don't make any real distinction in their own minds between cat and human. To the cat, they are all just members of the clowder.
I agree with the author that this assessment is largely due to comparisons with dogs. Dogs were the first species we domesticated, and they are the closest cladistic relatives to humans aside from our fellow primates. Because we've evolved alongside dogs for such a long period of time, it's absolutely true that humans and dogs have biologically adapted to one another in ways that cats and humans have not. Dogs have evolved methods of communication that specifically exist solely to communicate with humans, and there are brain pathways we both possess that help us to understand one another. That submissive nature of a dog is something we as humans have very much come to expect and to conceptualize as a key component of the dog-human relationship. It makes a lot of sense that humans would naturally view the cat-human relationship in the same lens, and therefore would expect that relationship to involve a dominant and a submissive side.
However, cats view their humans as equal members of the family. In cat family groups, dominance is usually shared and fluid, with the most appropriate cat taking on the role at the most appropriate time. Generally, the oldest cat in the group or the one who has the most family relationships with the other members becomes the main leader, which doesn't come with any real privileges but does make that cat responsible for defense and "speaking" for the group. This is a highly parental role. In my home, Elliot is the dad of the clowder because another of the four members is his genetic sister, Lucky, who is younger and smaller than her. Since he was already caring for her, and he was the oldest cat in the home, he became the default "dad" of the others. Everyone, though, is an equal part of the family and squabbles are very rare. A lot of this is because Elliot isn't really the clowder's main parent; I am. As "mom", I make a point to treat each member of the clowder equally and this helps everyone feel secure and like they're getting the attention they need.
All of this is to say that there isn't a strict dominant/submissive separation here, yet humans seem to always default to interpretations that place the cat in a dominant or superior position to their humans. A great example of this is the myth that cats give gifts of prey to their owners because they view them as bad hunters. That doesn't make much sense. A cat sees you eating, sees you feed them, literally sees you leave the house and come back with food. Of course they know you are completely capable of feeding yourself! Again, this places cats in a superior position and leads to a misinterpretation of their psychology as completely independent of the group. In fact, when a cat brings prey gifts home, they are simply attempting to contribute to their colony's food stores. It's not, "Here, idiot, since you can't do this for yourself." It's "Hey, anyone want this since I'm not going to eat it?" Have you ever been out with friends and before you toss out your last few fries, you ask around the table if anyone wants them? It's that, that's what your cat is doing when they bring you something dead or dying. After all, you frequently leave and come back with cat food, which you give to them. Why wouldn't a cat, who views you as an equal part of the family, want to return the favor? Mutualism IS an instinctual behavior and is much more likely to be the driver than a complex thought process that would lead a cat to conclude its human is a poor hunter. It's a lot more likely that your cat is simply thinking, "human, whose territory I entered, provides benefits for me -> if I do not provide benefits for human, human may remove me from home group, which is their right as I entered their territory -> I want to stay here -> I must show human that I am providing benefits for group -> doing this will allow me to remain in my home group and in human's territory". The cat doesn't understand that it is providing emotional and social benefits for its human companion because it doesn't conceptualize those things as basic needs the way humans and some Great Apes do.
I usually push back against the "cats have staff" stereotype by saying that in fact, cats are like teenagers. They value their independence but still want the love and security of communal living. They accept broad direction, but have their own ways of doing things that they prefer being left to perform. They may push back or seem resentful in situations when they're unable to do what they would prefer, but generally can tolerate negative circumstances if it'll lead to something positive. They want love on their own terms and want their personal space respected, like a fourteen-year-old boy and his parents. And you're lying if you've never heard your cat meow at you in such a way that they may as well be saying, "FINE, WHATEVER, MOM!" and slamming their bedroom door while they boot up League (which they will play until 2 AM on a school night) and turn on Sleep Token, which they discovered before like, a third of their school did, which makes them cool.
my only criticism would be the lack of information when touching on the issue of outdoor cats at the end. i believe phillips was trying to stay neutral on the facts presented in this book, however, with cats killing MILLIONS of birds on top of other human threats like climate change and habitat loss, it seems imprudent to not take a stand. the fact of the matter is that cats are responsible for the extinction of far too many species and it is in human hands that the blame lay for introducing cats to those areas and not keeping them confined. i felt that his ending note of "well, but if we got rid of outdoor cats, wouldnt it be sad bc they've been outside for so many thousands of years?" to be sour indeed. we are responsible forever for what we have tamed, mr phillips, and cats ARE a domesticated species, differences from dogs aside. it strikes me as incredibly irresponsible to shrug at the threat of outdoor cats on wildlife just because thats how things have always been done. i also did not appreciate, as a cat lover, the glossing over of the harms that outdoor cats face while outside, like cars, other people, and local native predators.
Cats: A History by Rod Phillips is an engaging and wide ranging cultural history that explores the long and complicated relationship between humans and cats across more than ten thousand years. From ancient Egypt to modern internet culture, the book traces how cats have moved between roles as sacred creatures, working animals, feared symbols, and beloved companions.
Phillips presents a well researched and accessible narrative that highlights how cats have consistently occupied a unique space in human society. Their independence, unpredictability, and mystery have shaped the way they are perceived across different eras and cultures. The book thoughtfully examines how these traits have led to both admiration and suspicion, particularly in relation to religion, gender roles, superstition, and social attitudes.
One of the book’s strengths lies in its ability to connect historical patterns with contemporary culture, showing how modern affection for cats exists alongside older beliefs about their danger or otherness. The discussion of cats in literature, politics, warfare, and everyday life adds richness and variety to the narrative, making it both informative and entertaining.
Themes of companionship, symbolism, cultural perception, and human animal relationships are woven throughout the book, offering readers a deeper understanding of why cats continue to fascinate us. Readers who enjoy animal history, cultural studies, nonfiction storytelling, and explorations of human behavior will find Cats: A History insightful, enjoyable, and thoroughly readable.