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On Animals: Volume II: Theological Ethics
This book presents an authoritative and comprehensive survey of human practice in relation to other animals, together with a Christian ethical analysis building on the theological account of animals which David Clough developed in On Animals Volume Systematic Theology (2012). It argues that a Christian understanding of other animals has radical implications for their treatment by humans, with the human use and abuse of non-human animals for food the most urgent immediate priority.
Following an introduction examining the task of theological ethics in relation to non-human animals and the way it relates to other accounts of animal ethics, this book surveys and assess the use humans make of other animals for food, for clothing, for labour, as research subjects, for sport and entertainment, as pets or companions, and human impacts on wild animals. The result is both a state-of-the-art account of what humans are doing to other animals, and a persuasive argument that Christians in particular have strong faith-based reasons to acknowledge the significance of the issues raised and change their practice in response.
Following an introduction examining the task of theological ethics in relation to non-human animals and the way it relates to other accounts of animal ethics, this book surveys and assess the use humans make of other animals for food, for clothing, for labour, as research subjects, for sport and entertainment, as pets or companions, and human impacts on wild animals. The result is both a state-of-the-art account of what humans are doing to other animals, and a persuasive argument that Christians in particular have strong faith-based reasons to acknowledge the significance of the issues raised and change their practice in response.
- GenresTheology
328 pages, Paperback
Published June 11, 2020
About the author
David L. Clough
8 books7 followersDavid Clough is Professor of Theology and Applied Sciences at the University of Aberdeen. He has published on Karl Barth's ethics, Christian pacifism and the place of animals in Christian theology and ethics. He is a Methodist Local Preacher and the co-founder of CreatureKind, which works to engage churches and other Christian institutions with farmed animal welfare as a faith issue.
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April 21, 2019
In my review (https://bit.ly/2Ixohwe) of Clough's first volume in this project, On Animals I: Systematic Theology, I excerpted a quotation from the end of that book: “[Let’s not] underestimat[e] the kind of transformation human beings will need to participate in redeemed creaturely life...." This second volume, On Animals II: Theological Ethics, imagines what that transformation might look and feel like through (1) a detailed, stark, and fair survey of various aspects of our historical and current treatment of other-than-human animals and (2) a Christian ethical assessment of those conditions, rooted in a (quite traditional or orthodox, in the best sense of those words) theological framework, following on from Clough's faithful reconstruction of sections of Karl Barth's Church Dogmatics in Volume I.
This book is simply a marvel: for the astonishing amount of ground it covers; for its clear, considered, and considerate arguments; and for its charitable and sustained moral exhortation. I finished the book compelled by its compassionate though radical prophetic invitation to begin to change the way I relate to other-than-human animals, in particular by diminishing my participation in the intensive farming industry and moving towards a solely plant-based diet.
There are several "secular" ethics that argue for better treatment of other-than-human animals, but Clough's is the first thoroughly Christian theological ethics. It starts from the foundational, Biblically-supported belief that all "animals [are] created, reconciled and redeemed by a God who wills them to flourish and in so doing glorify their Creator..." and then interrogates our current systems of using other animals from that theological plumb line. In a fascinating treatment of the Parable of the Good Samaritan, he also lays the groundwork for some intersectional considerations between animals and oppressed human beings, particularly around historical and contemporary racism, colonialism, and imperialism.
Clough's perspective is at once theologically realistic (at times accented by realpolitik) and eschatologically beatific. He acknowledges that in our fallen world, "all ethics is provisional" and "moral perfection is not attainable"; furthermore, we are not in charge of the timing of the messianic dawning of the New Creation, in which through Christ the lion shall lie down with the lamb and all created "things" will be reconciled to God. But our incapacity to be absolutely consistent or 100% ethical in every action or system and our not-being-God do not relieve of us of the call to repent and change our lives towards a world where animals are not blocked from flourishing. This is not an optional consideration for Christian discipleship; it is a moral imperative because it matters to God.
Clough anticipates the perfunctory questions that generally come up when the subject of animal welfare is raised, particularly regarding using animals for food, such as "[aren't there many] irreconcilable conflicts [that] justify inflicting suffering or death on non-human animals"? And yes, there may be some, he argues, but many if not most of the conflicts we experience (or more to the point, don't let ourselves experience because the industrial and systemic mistreatment of animals is ubiquitously outsourced from most of our lives) are unjustified from any sound Christian theological worldview. "When claims of necessity [for mass animal suffering and death] are made," Clough repeats over and over again that "we should ask 'Necessary for what?'" and then be ruthlessly honest with ourselves.
An example of my own deep compunction and desire for change while reading this book: I've been mostly vegetarian for much of my adult life, but have continued to eat fish, eggs, and dairy products. Reading about the debunked faux-science of "fish feel no pain", the devastating effects of the farmed fishing industry to the overall ecology of the oceans and seas, and the treatment of even "cage free, free range" hens that produce the eggs we eat (not to speak of the millions of caged battery hens) make me seriously revaluate the way I use animals for food.
One of the horrifying (and new to me) examples of cruelty in much of the industrial farming business (and there many examples of cruelty) detailed the chapter on "Using Other Animals for Food" is the fact that *all* male chicks in the mass farming industry are killed immediately after hatching and being sexed. Because they are not "useful" for egg production or the expedited and cheap meat production that consumers most value, they are "euthanized", that is to say, they are gassed en masse, or suffocated, or (the most common practice) "macerated", that is, dropped alive into a meat grinder. Given that reality - the deaths of millions and millions of baby chicks every year, the blocking from living, the elimination of any chance of flourishing, the violent curtailing of the life that God willed for them - is it actually a necessity for me to eat eggs? For which percentage of the world's human population is it necessary?
Some will say that it's not necessary, but it's a choice that I get to make as a human being, even if I eat eggs (produced by these mass farming systems) because, say, I simply like to eat them. What does it mean for Christians who follow a Savior (of the world) who says that God's eye is on the sparrow to simply, knowingly, and unreflectively persist in such a set of attitudes and behaviors? In an utterly gracious fashion and without an ounce of polemic, Clough argues that such a practice is "fundamentally incompatible with a Christian understanding of the life of fellow animal creatures" and a "rebellion against God".
Clough doesn't stop with an assessment of how we use other animals for food: he also considers the ethics of using animals for clothes and textiles, labor, research, sports and entertainment, animals as pets, and our human impact on wild animals.
As a dog lover, I found the chapter on animals as companions particularly lovely, though not without deep challenge (pedigree breeders and dog show aficionados, watch out). The wonderful idea of domestic animal companionship (challenges there, too) as a potential dress rehearsal for the New Creation has made me value even more my relationship with our nearly 13-year-old rescue Weimaraner, Jake, and consider afresh what he desires his life to be about on his own terms, and what he teaches me about the nature of God and the nature of reality.
Reading this book has convinced me to try to shift my practice: in the 50 days of the season of Easter I will try hard to shift to a completely plant-based diet, as an experiment towards a more full-scale, long-term commitment. Others may be compelled by Clough's writing but not be ready yet or ever to take such a step (I've been circling the idea for a few years), but what I love about Clough's pastoral exhortation is that he invites us all to start where we are: to simply reduce our meat consumption a few days a week, for example, or to start advocating for the transformation of the industrial farming industry towards the highest possible standards of animal welfare, which will make meat, eggs, and milk from animals more expensive, but such is the "cost" of a deep, Christly stewardship and duty of care of the Creation with which we've been entrusted, of which we are a part.
Simply put, this is one of the most important theological works I've ever read. God willing it will help me change my life, and over time, as the Church receives it, the lives of the other animals we share this world and this God with, and the life of the world itself.
This book is simply a marvel: for the astonishing amount of ground it covers; for its clear, considered, and considerate arguments; and for its charitable and sustained moral exhortation. I finished the book compelled by its compassionate though radical prophetic invitation to begin to change the way I relate to other-than-human animals, in particular by diminishing my participation in the intensive farming industry and moving towards a solely plant-based diet.
There are several "secular" ethics that argue for better treatment of other-than-human animals, but Clough's is the first thoroughly Christian theological ethics. It starts from the foundational, Biblically-supported belief that all "animals [are] created, reconciled and redeemed by a God who wills them to flourish and in so doing glorify their Creator..." and then interrogates our current systems of using other animals from that theological plumb line. In a fascinating treatment of the Parable of the Good Samaritan, he also lays the groundwork for some intersectional considerations between animals and oppressed human beings, particularly around historical and contemporary racism, colonialism, and imperialism.
Clough's perspective is at once theologically realistic (at times accented by realpolitik) and eschatologically beatific. He acknowledges that in our fallen world, "all ethics is provisional" and "moral perfection is not attainable"; furthermore, we are not in charge of the timing of the messianic dawning of the New Creation, in which through Christ the lion shall lie down with the lamb and all created "things" will be reconciled to God. But our incapacity to be absolutely consistent or 100% ethical in every action or system and our not-being-God do not relieve of us of the call to repent and change our lives towards a world where animals are not blocked from flourishing. This is not an optional consideration for Christian discipleship; it is a moral imperative because it matters to God.
Clough anticipates the perfunctory questions that generally come up when the subject of animal welfare is raised, particularly regarding using animals for food, such as "[aren't there many] irreconcilable conflicts [that] justify inflicting suffering or death on non-human animals"? And yes, there may be some, he argues, but many if not most of the conflicts we experience (or more to the point, don't let ourselves experience because the industrial and systemic mistreatment of animals is ubiquitously outsourced from most of our lives) are unjustified from any sound Christian theological worldview. "When claims of necessity [for mass animal suffering and death] are made," Clough repeats over and over again that "we should ask 'Necessary for what?'" and then be ruthlessly honest with ourselves.
An example of my own deep compunction and desire for change while reading this book: I've been mostly vegetarian for much of my adult life, but have continued to eat fish, eggs, and dairy products. Reading about the debunked faux-science of "fish feel no pain", the devastating effects of the farmed fishing industry to the overall ecology of the oceans and seas, and the treatment of even "cage free, free range" hens that produce the eggs we eat (not to speak of the millions of caged battery hens) make me seriously revaluate the way I use animals for food.
One of the horrifying (and new to me) examples of cruelty in much of the industrial farming business (and there many examples of cruelty) detailed the chapter on "Using Other Animals for Food" is the fact that *all* male chicks in the mass farming industry are killed immediately after hatching and being sexed. Because they are not "useful" for egg production or the expedited and cheap meat production that consumers most value, they are "euthanized", that is to say, they are gassed en masse, or suffocated, or (the most common practice) "macerated", that is, dropped alive into a meat grinder. Given that reality - the deaths of millions and millions of baby chicks every year, the blocking from living, the elimination of any chance of flourishing, the violent curtailing of the life that God willed for them - is it actually a necessity for me to eat eggs? For which percentage of the world's human population is it necessary?
Some will say that it's not necessary, but it's a choice that I get to make as a human being, even if I eat eggs (produced by these mass farming systems) because, say, I simply like to eat them. What does it mean for Christians who follow a Savior (of the world) who says that God's eye is on the sparrow to simply, knowingly, and unreflectively persist in such a set of attitudes and behaviors? In an utterly gracious fashion and without an ounce of polemic, Clough argues that such a practice is "fundamentally incompatible with a Christian understanding of the life of fellow animal creatures" and a "rebellion against God".
Clough doesn't stop with an assessment of how we use other animals for food: he also considers the ethics of using animals for clothes and textiles, labor, research, sports and entertainment, animals as pets, and our human impact on wild animals.
As a dog lover, I found the chapter on animals as companions particularly lovely, though not without deep challenge (pedigree breeders and dog show aficionados, watch out). The wonderful idea of domestic animal companionship (challenges there, too) as a potential dress rehearsal for the New Creation has made me value even more my relationship with our nearly 13-year-old rescue Weimaraner, Jake, and consider afresh what he desires his life to be about on his own terms, and what he teaches me about the nature of God and the nature of reality.
Reading this book has convinced me to try to shift my practice: in the 50 days of the season of Easter I will try hard to shift to a completely plant-based diet, as an experiment towards a more full-scale, long-term commitment. Others may be compelled by Clough's writing but not be ready yet or ever to take such a step (I've been circling the idea for a few years), but what I love about Clough's pastoral exhortation is that he invites us all to start where we are: to simply reduce our meat consumption a few days a week, for example, or to start advocating for the transformation of the industrial farming industry towards the highest possible standards of animal welfare, which will make meat, eggs, and milk from animals more expensive, but such is the "cost" of a deep, Christly stewardship and duty of care of the Creation with which we've been entrusted, of which we are a part.
Simply put, this is one of the most important theological works I've ever read. God willing it will help me change my life, and over time, as the Church receives it, the lives of the other animals we share this world and this God with, and the life of the world itself.
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