Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy

by Matthew Scully

"And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth."--Genesis 1:24-26In this crucial passage from the Old Testament, God grants mankind power over animals. But with this privilege comes the grave responsibility to respect life, to treat animals with simple dignity and compassion.Somewhere along the way, something has gone wrong.In Dominion, we witness the annual convention of Safari Club International, an organization whose wealthier members will pay up to $20,000 to hunt an elephant, a lion or another animal, either abroad or in American "safari ranches," where the animals are fenced in pens. We attend the annual International Whaling Commission conference, where the skewed politics of the whaling industry come to light, and the focus is on developing more lethal, but not more merciful, methods of harvesting "living marine resources." And we visit a gargantuan American "factory farm," where animals are treated as mere product and raised in conditions of mass confinement, bred for passivity and bulk, inseminated and fed with machines, kept in tightly confined stalls for the entirety of their lives, and slaughtered in a way that maximizes profits and minimizes decency.Throughout Dominion, Scully counters the hypocritical arguments that attempt to excuse animal from those who argue that the Bible's message permits mankind to use animals as it pleases, to the hunter's argument that through hunting animal populations are controlled, to the popular and "scientifically proven" notions that animals cannot feel pain, experience no emotions, and are not conscious of their own lives.The result is eye opening, painful and infuriating, insightful and rewarding. Dominion is a plea for human benevolence and mercy, a scathing attack on those who would dismiss animal activists as mere sentimentalists, and a demand for reform from the government down to the individual. Matthew Scully has created a groundbreaking work, a book of lasting power and importance for all of us.

Genres: Animals, Nonfiction, Philosophy, Vegan, Food, Religion, Environment

434 pages, Kindle Edition

First published October 15, 2002

About the author

Matthew Scully is an American author, political writer, and journalist known for his influential work as a presidential speechwriter and his advocacy for animal welfare. He served as a senior speechwriter for President George W. Bush from 2001 to 2004 and contributed to speeches for numerous Republican leaders, including Vice Presidents Dan Quayle, Dick Cheney, and Mike Pence, as well as Senator Bob Dole and Governor Robert P. Casey. In 2008, Scully adapted the vice-presidential nomination acceptance speech for Sarah Palin and later worked on a draft of Melania Trump’s 2016 convention address. His journalistic contributions have appeared in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, The Atlantic, and The American Conservative. Scully is also the author of Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy (2002), a critically acclaimed work that argues for compassion in humanity’s treatment of animals from a Christian conservative perspective. He rejects factory farming and sport hunting, emphasizing moral responsibility rather than animal rights ideology. His writing challenges assumptions about conservative views on animal welfare, earning praise across ideological lines. Scully continues to write and speak on issues of ethics, politics, and the treatment of animals.

Reviews

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is glittering prose! I read it with a pencil or pen in hand and typically felt like underlining every word on the page! I was always scribbling things in the margins. It was great! I am amazed at how carefully Matthew Scully explains his thinking on various subjects, without being overbearing or self-righteous. I will try to quote some of my favorite passages, although there are too many favorites to include here.

"let us just call things what they are. When a man's love of finery clouds his moral judgment, that is vanity. When he lets his demanding palate make his moral choices, that is gluttony. When he ascribes the divine will to his own whims, that is pride. And when he gets angry at being reminded of animal suffering that his own daily choices might help avoid, that is moral cowardice." p. 121

"When substitute products are found, with each creature in turn, responsible dominion calls for a reprieve. The warrant expires. The divine mandate is used up. What were once "necessary evils" become just evils. Laws protecting animals from mistreatment, abuse, and exploitation are not a moral luxury or sentimental afterthought to be shrugged off. They are a serious moral obligation, only clearer in the more developed parts of the world where we cannot plead poverty. Man, guided by the very light of reason and ethics that was his claim to dominion in the first place, should in generations to come have the good grace to repay his debts, step back wherever possible and leave the creatures be, off to live out the lives designed for them, with all the beauty and sights and smells and warm winds, and all the natural hardships, dangers, and violence, too." p. 43

"We tend to assume, moreover, that instinct, even when it is clearly at work, means there can be no accompanying thought or feeling--as if a doe when she caresses her fawn, or your cat when he or she kneads on you, can have no awareness or pleasure in that instinctive experience. We certainly don't assume that about ourselves when we feel the tug of instinct, in avoiding danger or safeguarding our young or seeking potential mates. On the contrary, the thoughts and emotions accompanying instinctive desires are usually the most vivid. The most earthy, ordinary human experiences--coupling, birthing, dying--are in fact, the most deeply experienced. Instinctive desire and action in our own case does not always mean blind, unfeeling reflex, and there is no reason to supppose it is any different for them." p. 228

"The whole sad business, even while defended in terms of reason and realism, is designed precisely to prevent that engagement with the facts, to keep information and conscience as far apart as possible, to soothe and satisfy all at once, now even to the point of eradicating 'cosmetic defects' like bloodsplash lest Everyone be troubled by the thought that pain was felt and blood was shed.

"I know many people far more upright and conscientious than I am who disagree, who think nothing of it. I know that vegetarianism runs against mankind's most casual assumptions about the world and our place within it. And I know that factory farming is an economic inevitability, not likely to end anytime soon.

"But I don't answer to inevitabilities, and neither do you. I don't answer to the economy. I don't answer to tradition and I don't answer to Everyone. For me, it comes down to a question of whether I am a man or just a consumer. Whether to reason or just to rationalize. Whether to heed my conscience or my every craving, to assert my free will or just my will. Whether to side with the powerful and comfortable or with the weak, afflicted, and forgotten. Whether, as an economic actor in the free market, I answer to the god of money or the God of mercy." pp. 324-325.

[lp · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this book a lot more before I learned the author is the speech writer for Sarah Palin. I have a hard time believing that Scully is not passionate about vegetarianism. The book is incredibly dramatic. You can tell he is a speech writer -- he writes as if he is before 100,000 people trying to enliven them for battle or something. I am a passionate vegetarian, and there were times that even I was like, okay Matthew Scully enough enough enough! So where is his inauthenticity? How can he believe all of this and support a woman who is cool with aerial shooting and hunting and doesn't give a shit about polar bears?

Whatever. I liked the book, and I didn't feel overwhelmed by his conservative/religious bias, although I disagreed with him about some moral issues. Like, it was interesting to see where he draws the line on killing animals and then abortion and stem-cell research. Most vegetarians are liberal and are cool with stem-cell research and women's rights. Most. Matthew Scully breaks that mold. So I guess it makes you realize how fuzzy all the lines really are.

Scully makes a lot of valid points and says them better than I ever have. I liked this part:

He was saying people are always like (paraphrasing: "humans have thought and conscience so we obviously are better than animals, we have dominion over them, so we can eat them because they don't and they're stupid and they have no idea what's going on." They are? They don't? Fine, then: (now I'll start quoting Scully...)

"When people say that they like their veal or hot dogs just too much to ever give them up, and yeah it's sad about the farms but that's just the way it is, reason hears in that the voice of gluttony. What makes a human being human is precisely the ability to understand that the suffering of an animal is more important than the taste of a treat." (303)

Also:

"Let's just call things what they are. When a man's love of finery clouds his moral judgment, that is vanity. When he lets a demanding palate make his moral choices, that is gluttony. When he ascribes the divine will to his own whims, that is pride. And when he gets angry at being reminded of animal suffering that his own daily choices might help avoid, that is moral cowardice." (121)

See what I mean about the dramatic stuff?

Anyway, read this book, if only to be confused about how someone could do such a brilliant job encapsulating such a complicated issue so beautifully and simply, and yet churn out the words for a woman who says things like "Talibani" and "Gee Willikers*".

*I have never heard her say "Gee Willikers, but I bet she does."

[Amanda Hupe · Rating 1 out of 5]

A rare DNF. The hypocrisy is strong with this one. You can say you love animals as much as you want, provide many examples of the cruelty of animals. But if you support and praise the people who vote against policies that would help animals then your words are just empty. Too preachy and the words too empty.

[Eric · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well. This was a shrewdly written book. Instead of arguing for animal rights he argues that humans have neglected to exercise care for animals in their use of them. In other words modern humans have forsaken a biblical and moral vision of dominion for a quite selfish and callous use of animals for profit. In this use we ourselves are disfigured and reduced.
Most of the first half of the book is an overview of the most egregious misuse of animals in our world, focusing on the trophy hunting of animals, especially elephants, the hunting of the great whales, and the industrial production of pork. What he finds in these three areas is tantamount to torture, a rejection of care/dominion for a vicious, economic approach to the higher mammals. The rest of the book is a more philosophical discussion of natural law as a basis of morality and a very discussion of whether or not animals have emotions and if they feel and experience pain in a way similar to the way we do.
Throughout the book the author deals extensively with the arguments of the other side, most of whom are fellow conservatives (he is a former speech writer foe Bush II). He seeks to ground his arguments for mercy for animals in universal human moral values. He is very convincing that higher mammals experience the world in much the same way that we do and is very convincing in his arguments for the need to abandon trophy hunting, whaling, and industrial food production. I don't think that he ever actually called for everyone to stop eating meat, he does call us to be mindful of what we are doing when we eat and when we interact with animals.
This book pushes us toward vegetarianism in a logical caring way. I would have liked to see some interaction with animal farming that is compassionate and humane. He was long on theory (and I am in no way denigrating this) and short on solutions except to ban trophy hunting and whaling (which I would support). His more journalistic sections, when he is describing the activities that he abhors are much more readable and passionate then his more theory driven chapters and this makes the book uneven. All in all this is an important book I think, because he makes the important distinction between what we can do and what we should do. We don't owe animals mercy because they have rights, we owe them mercy because we have dominion.

[Writer's Relief · Rating 5 out of 5]

We’ve all seen the crammed chicken coops, the overfed, hormone-injected cow, or the shot deer hanging off the back of a hunter’s pickup. We’ve all felt something, if not a little sadness, for these defenseless animals. Then we go home and we pet our dogs and think nothing of it. So what then? In his treatise DOMINION, renowned journalist Matthew Scully explores the argument for animal rights in the modern world, and the various inconsistencies found within these debates. As the title lets on, Scully’s perspective is that humans misinterpret the Bible’s meaning of “dominion,” twisting the concept to mean that our superiority trumps all. We forget the precious idea that along with this privilege comes responsibility and the expectation that all life will be treated with dignity at our hands.

Scully explores several main animal industries, including factory farms and hunting, bringing to light the political and philosophical contradictions found around the world when justifying the cruel treatment of animals. Scully never makes the naive assumption that all animals should be treated equal, as that is just simply not the case in biology—there will always be a food chain. Rather, he makes an argument for the humane treatment of all animals, even if you eventually plan on slaughtering them and having a fantastic pig roast. Scully has been a vegetarian for many, many years, but DOMINION is in no way a call for veggies to unite and spread the good word. It’s a book about grace, understanding, and respect for your fellow creatures, as well as a call to view the laws of nature through a new set of eyes not tarnished by the industrial food system or a false reading of some holy scripture.

While there are some (at times heavy) Christian overtones, he successfully presents his argument in a way that spans all cultures and religions, compelling me to examine my behavior within my own structure of ideology and belief.

[Tobias Leenaert · Rating 5 out of 5]

one of the best books about animal rights i've ever read. distinguishes itself from the countless others by the quality of its prose. wonderfully written, with a very clear sensitivity for these issues on the author's part.

[Aberdeen · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book I didn't expect to change my life. The tagline is, “The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy.” I picked it up because of the rave reviews of people I trust and because of my amateur interest in bioethics, which this relates to, if only tangentially. How should humans relate to the world around them? How should Christians think about our relationship to the rest of creation? I've typically been more interested in this topic in connection with the environment but of course you can't totally separate separate flora and fauna. I figured it was time to turn my questions to the animal kingdom.

The thing is, I don't really like animals. They can be cute, and majestic, but they never inspired in me the same passion that I’ve seen in other people. Most pets annoy me and don't seem worth the time, money, and contact with bodily fluids, strange smells, and cleaning supplies. And I have always laughed at vegetarians (I’m sorry). Didn't God give us animals to eat? (Well, sort of, as a concession after the Fall.) Aren’t animal products the best way for us to get protein, containing all the amino acids we need in one package, unlike plants? (Well, yes, but of course there are other animal products besides meat and if you're careful about it, you can get everything you need from plants.) Like many conservative-leaning folk, I saw animal rights activists as sentimental, inconsistent, and even anti-human, crusading for the whales while ignoring assaults on human life.

Then I read this book, which is written by a speechwriter for George W. Bush. Scully has conservative street cred. You can't accuse him of pandering to his liberal base. That immediately made me more open to what he has to say, not just because I'm more aligned with him on several fundamental ideas but because I knew he couldn't rest on appealing to people who already agreed with him. He would have to rigorously defend his arguments to a skeptical audience. There could be no cheap ideological rhetoric here, not if he really wants to make his point.

Scully does all of that, and more. I was stunned by the quality of his writing and his thinking. His sentences—oh, his sentences! He mixes lucid philosophy with sharp-eyed reporting, wrapped up in humor, ruthless logic, and warm personal reflections to create an account that is unapologetic but movingly gracious. He bares before you the gruesome details of porcine slaughterhouses, recounts conversations with international whaling lobbyists in between reflections on the ethics of utilitarianism, and surveys theological interpretations of the Judeo-Christian creation story before taking us with him to Safari Club International, a multi-day big game hunting convention. He spends pages carefully deconstructing arguments from both conservative Roger Scurton, who revels in the glory of fox hunts, and the liberal Peter Singer, who argues that infanticide is less bad than murder of an adult (and therefore the killing of animals is even less problematic). He quotes Saint Bonaventure and Pope John Paul II as well as David Hume and Sigmund Freud.

If this book were merely a survey of current attitudes toward the issue of animal welfare or an in-depth journalistic expose of the state of industrial farms, it would be a significant and eye-opening contribution to this discussion. But Scully goes far beyond reporting or criticism, instead laying out a compelling argument for why and how all people but especially Christians, of whom he is one, should treat animals. My favorite summary of this thesis is from one of the reviews in the front pages: “Scully’s argument for the protection of animals is not based on rights, liberation, or legal sophistry, but on the old—someone would say old-fashioned—idea of mercy.”

Scully does not, as I expected, frame this issue in terms of animal rights. He does argue for reducing animal product consumption, ending big game hunting, radically re-hauling the way we treat livestock, and various other related protections of animals. And although he dives into the persuasive evidence that animals are conscious and can suffer pain (and since this was written twenty years ago, I'm sure there is much more data now to defend this claim), he ultimately does not rest his case for protecting animals on qualities they possess. Nor does he only point to some classical idea of humanity—we lessen ourselves when we mistreat animals. While he acknowledges these as good points, the linchpin of his argument is the uniquely Christian concept of mercy.

Animals are, on the whole, weaker than us. They do not have the moral capacities we do. That is precisely why we must use our greater rational and moral capabilities to look out for their good—as one spider-bitten human learned, with great power comes great responsibility. Or as Scully says:

“The whole logic of Christianity is one of condescension, of the higher serving the lower, the strong protecting the weak, the last being first, and all out of boundless love and generosity, ‘rights’ having nothing to do with it.”

“Whenever human beings with our loftier gifts and grander callings in the world can stop to think on [animals’] well-being, if only by withdrawing to let them be, it need not be a recognition of ‘rights.’ It is just a gracious thing, an act of clemency only more to our credit because the animals themselves cannot ask for it, or rebuke us when we transgress against them, or even repay our kindness. We are going to need a little mercy ourselves one day. The way I figure it, I cannot expect mercy if I am unwilling to give it.”

“One may regard animal welfare as an entirely secondary matter. One may view the creatures as morally incidental, as soulless beings for whom no bell ever tolled and to whom no one has direct moral duties. What one may not do under the guise of religious principle is deny that we have at least certain basic obligations of kindness, and that these obligations impose limits on our own conduct that today are simply not being observed.”

Animals need not have moral capacities to necessitate that we use ours. It was convicting to realize how many of my arguments, once I was informed about what's actually going on in our slaughterhouses, rest solely upon my pleasure and convenience. Isn’t it my right to eat meat? Or is it my responsibility to offer mercy to creatures that I have been given, well, dominion over? Which of these motivations will I follow?

A large part of Scully’s argument is that eating animal products, especially meat, is no longer a necessity. I expected him to make a strong, explicit case for going vegetarian or vegan, but he does not. Instead, he lays out the facts of how animals are treated and the argument for acting with mercy. He then leaves the specific choices that will follow from those things up to the individual. Depending on where you live and your income, for example, you may be able to buy locally, humanely sourced meat and dairy products—or you may not. There are different ways that the conviction to treat animals with mercy can be lived out, and I appreciate that he leaves room for that. He was clear, however, that some trends, both personal choices and national systems, will need to change and that it will require sacrifice.

“We have no valid claims of need anymore, only our claim to the material good of fare to which we are accustomed. Meanwhile, in a global, high tech economy of six billion consumers— perhaps nine or ten billion by the year 2100—livestock animals simply cannot be raised under humane conditions. We are left, then, with exactly one material good and one moral good, our pleasure weighed against our duty of compassion. And these can no longer coexist. One or the other must be abandoned.”

I am not sure I would have been willing to hear this argument a couple years ago, or even last year. It would have seemed hyperbolic and virtue-signaling to me. I'm not sure what changed in me, and I'm not sure what needs to change in people to be able to hear it. But I pray that we are able to.

Perhaps the most compelling part of Scully’s argument to me was how the current discussion around animal rights and treatment of animals seems to take for granted that they must be of use to us to matter. He quotes the president of the International Wildlife Management Consortium—World Conservation Trust (what a mouthful) talking about whales: “Our main purpose is sustainable use…For us, the principle of sustainable use will suffer no exceptions, except for science. The worst crime against nature is waste, not to use resources.”

So animals are just resources and simply to exist as a waste.

I have done a lot of thinking recently about where our worth as humans comes from, our value as beings and not producers. Perhaps that is what cleared the way for me to be sympathetic to Scully's arguments because I recognized in them a similar push against utilitarianism, a resistance to the idea that any being matters because of its output or usefulness to others. As he says when describing how groundbreaking the Genesis depiction of animals was: “For the first time animals are not only significant in themselves, belonging to Him and not to us; they are players, however lowly, in the story of our own moral development. The God of Israel delights in all that He has made. All creatures sing their Creator’s praises, and are dear to him for their own sakes.”

It is not that we may never use animals for anything. The problem arises when we make their utility our only calculation in how we treat them. It becomes perverted when we cannot imagine whales simply swimming in the ocean as being a good thing but rather a waste of resources.

Scully does not only critique others, however. He provides a detailed list of policies that we should bring before Congress right now to address the exploitation of animals in America. It's one thing to condemn the current laws, and it's another to paint a compelling vision of a more just world, but it's still yet better to be able to enshrine these ideas in practical next steps. I don't know much about our current policies, how feasible his suggestions are, the fallout in other industries or negative externalities they might cause. But at least he has positive, practical solutions for both the individual and the country.

As I kept reading, I grew increasingly uncomfortable with my superficial, indifferent criticism of those who have sounded the alarm bells about the way animals are treated. I am ashamed to admit it but before I truly didn't care. Scully has convinced me that nothing could be further from how a Christian should behave.

I am still pondering what this looks like for me practically. Right now, I'm trying to only eat meat at restaurants and at the very least stop eating meat every day, resisting this expectation that I can't have a good meal unless there's meat in it. When I do buy meat, I try only to buy it from my local farmers market. Yes, it's more expensive, but if you buy less of it in general, it balances out. And surely it is a small price to pay for the chance to be more like God, our kind and generous creator, author of all mercies, delighted inventor of the manifold creatures that fill his earth who in their beauty, diversity, and vulnerability point us to him.

As Scully concludes,

“[A]nimal welfare is not just a moral problem to be solved in statutes, but a moral opportunity to fill our own lives with acts of compassion. Kindness to animals is not our most important duty as human beings, nor is it our least important. How we treat our fellow creatures is only one more way in which each one of us, every day, writes our own epitaph—bearing into the world a message of light and life or just more darkness and death, adding to the world's joy or to its despair.

‘In a drop of rain can be seen the colors of the sun,’ observed the historian Lewis Namier. So in every act of kindness we hold in our own hands the mercy of our maker, whose purposes are in life and not death, whose love does not stop at us but surrounds us, bestowing dignity and beauty and hope on every creature that lives and suffers and perishes. Perhaps that is part of the animals’ role among us, to awaken humility, to turn our minds back to the mystery of things, and open our hearts to that most impractical of hopes in which all creation speaks as one. For them as for us, if there is any hope at all then it is the same hope, and the same love, and the same God who ‘shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain for the former things are passed away.’”

[d4 · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excerpt/something to consider:

"Philosophically, one can look at it this way. Broadly speaking, for as long as people have engaged in moral thought, mankind has acted upon two fundamental beliefs: (a) It is morally permissible to raise and slaughter animals for our own consumption--a material good--because doing so is necessary for our survival and well-being--a moral good. But this very claim of moral sanction attested to the belief that there was a sacrifice involved and that (b) even in livestock production we do have at least certain minimal obligations of kindness to animals--a moral good.

Whether these are direct or indirect obligations is for the moment irrelevant to the fact that they exist, that they require certain restraints on our part, and that before the age of industrial farming one could act upon both (a) and (b) at the same time. And the problem is just this simple. The moral component of (a) is gone. We have no valid claims of need anymore, only our claim to the material good of fare to which we are accustomed. Meanwhile, in a global, high-tech economy of six billion consumers--perhaps nine or ten billion by the year 2100--livestock animals simply cannot be raised under humane conditions. We are left, then, with exactly one material good and one moral good, our pleasure weighed against our duty of compassion. And these can no longer coexist. One or the other must be abandoned.

Among those who have noticed this shift in the scales is environmentalist Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., who writes of how, 'like other Americans, I've reconciled myself to the idea that an animal's life has been sacrificed to bring me a meal of pork or chicken. However, industrial meat production--which subjects animals to a life of torture--has escalated the karmic costs beyond reconciliation.' Mr. Kennedy, who is leading a campaign against Smithfield for environmental negligence, buys only meat raised from small farms that 'treat their animals with dignity and respect.'

I think that is a decent compromise, and it is good to hear such a prominent voice taking the side of animals. How rare to hear anyone today speak of the 'dignity' of these creatures. But this middle ground is vanishing with our small farms. More and more, consumers are left with a choice between two radical alternatives. The way I figure it, we can be radically kind or we can be radically cruel.

I know, of course, that we vegetarians are still considered an eccentric minority. It is always hard to raise the subject without feeling a little awkward, the skunk at every party and barbecue. Frankly I have felt a little uneasy just writing about the matter, forcing unpleasant details upon the reader, a task that can be mean and spiteful if done in the wrong spirit. As harsh as the process of industrial farming may be, the motive, after all, is not cruelty. It's not as if anyone wants the creatures to suffer. We would all wish it otherwise. And in a way the standard vegetarian argument that the average person eats meat, and yet could not bear to see how it was produced, actually speaks well of the average person. Imagine a world in which most people enjoyed hearing and seeing the details.

I think this is why even the most impassioned vegetarian arguments often miss the mark: Because we tend to judge ourselves by motive and intention rather than by means and result. We vegetarians, in our defense, are at least prepared to look at actual consequences and inconvenient realities, understanding that he who wills the end wills also the means. At least we have confronted the seriousness of the matter, thought about it, made a conscious and deliberate choice, and how many people can actually pinpoint some moment in their lives when they decided to eat meat? From the first bits of flesh placed on the tray of our high chairs, most people go through life never once questioning that this is natural and necessary, the way things are and must ever be. Everyone does it, so it must be right.

Here's a good question to ask yourself: Would you give up meat if you were persuaded that factory farming was cruel and unethical? Hypothetically, in other words, how difficult and inconvenient would it be to act upon your own moral concerns? Or indeed how socially embarrassing would it be, how troublesome to have to make a choice and explain and stay with it? The next question would be whether it is, in fact, the absence of moral concern that prevents the change, or the prospect of the difficulties and inconvenience.

Likewise, if you must have meat, regarding it as a right and necessary thing while viewing factory farming as a bad and unnecessary thing, do you, like Mr. Kennedy, act on that distinction by buying only meats raised by humane standards? And if not, why not? Why is industrial farming wrong by your own standards, yet not a serious enough wrong to warrant a change in your own daily choices? Think of the effect that this decision alone would have on modern agriculture, more millions of consumers making that one little effort every day to spare the creatures from needless misery."

[Петър Стойков · Rating 2 out of 5]

Виц:

Две планети се срещнали и си говорят и едната се оплаква:
- Ох, пък да знаеш, то срамна работа, ама хванала съм едни паразити - хора. Ако знаеш как сърбят..
А другата я успокоява:
- Оооо, спокойно, след има-няма сто хиляди години сами ще изчезнат.

В тази бездушна безкрайна вселена, в която планетата ни е само прашинка въртяща се из безкрайния космос, ние сме просто някакви самозабравили се примати, същестуващи в незабележима секундичка от безвремието.

Така или иначе, моралът е просто това, което хората в момента смятат за добро и общоприето. То няма никакво вселенско значение.

Може да се тръшкаме и да си скубем косите колкото искаме, но това е реалността - нито има някакви обективни постановки за морала (божии книги или природни закони), нито на вселената й пука от това. Смисълът на живота е това, което ние решим че е, и правилно и неправилно е това, което ние решим, че е. Толкоз.

Така погледнато, спорът за правата на животните, според личното ми мнение, е доста безпредметен, както и повечето морални спорове, които не са свързани с благополучието на хората.

Може да се каже, че за човешкото щастие и благоденствие можем да се опитваме да извлечем някакви по-общи истини от еволюционното ни развитие и как природата ни е създала да сме щастливи. На тази база можем, евентуално, да градим обществения си морал - ако приемем, че базата му трябва да бъде човешкото щастие. Щото можем и да не приемем - не забравяйте, можем да правим каквото си искаме.

Относно правата на животните обаче, всякакви спорове са просто общи приказки и безпредметно разтягане на локуми. Дали те имат "права" и как да се отнасяме с тях зависи съвсем и напълно само от това какво решим ние в момента. Няма висша истина, няма предопределение свише, което да разкрием чрез безкрайни философски спорове докато накрая стигнем до Великата Истина и я запишем в свещен скрижал.

Животните почват да имат "права" в момента, в който по-голямата част от човечеството започне да смята, че трябва да имат. Така цялата настояща книга, в която авторът се опитва да ни убеди, че правата на животните и доброто отношение към тях е залегнало в Библията, е доста смешна и е еквивалентна на средновековните теологични спорове колко именно ангела могат да танцуват на върха на игла.

[Megan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a life-changer - beautifully written, compelling arguments, and altogether inspiring.

Read it even if you're sure you'll never give up your bacon. There's something in here for everyone to think about and act on.

[Kim · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some chapters in this book are captivating -- particularly the author's research into the Safari Club and the world of big game trophy hunting. Great investigative journalism. But then he juxtaposed a few of these chapters (including another good discussion about whale hunting) with discussions into animal rights which focus on an attack of Professor Singer's animal rights perspective and fail to offer his own cogent theory of animal rights or welfare. I felt that the author had several ideas for books and meshed them together -- fairly unsuccessfully -- in this book. He should stick to reporting and recognize that he is not a gifted philosopher or ethicist. He is clearly trying to live an ethical life within a fairly conservative religious backdrop, and so maybe for those who've never encountered the breadth of animal rights philosophies, this could offer a compelling view. But I found his arguments fairly weak and disconnected.

[John · Rating 1 out of 5]

I read this hoping to learn more concerning the treatment of animals in factory farms. What I got was a seemingly endless, repetitive diatribe against the mistreatment of animals in any conceivable way. The book was at least 250 pages too long full of emotional appeals. I did find several sections well written, well thought-out, and helpful. But I also flipped page after page to get past so much of the redundancy of his arguments and his endless argumentation.

I appreciate his concern regarding the treatment of animals in various circumstances--most of all factory farms, which he exposes as awful. But my goodness was it long and repetitive. Avoid it!

[Reign Hamilton · Rating 4 out of 5]

Phenomenal!!!! Really broke my heart for the animal industry. Assuming his religious background is minimal. He does such a good job at explaining how all through Christendom we have cared for the well being of animals. He even creates some connections where Christians have followed in the foot steps of most secularist when considering the well being of animals.
I think after reading this everyone would be a vegetarian or at least more conscious of the meat they eat.

[Russell Fox · Rating 4 out of 5]

A wonderful, impassioned, conservative argument for the dignity of animals (and, indirectly, for vegetarianism, or at least for radically reducing our meat consumption). Scully thoughtfully engages with Peter Singer and other arguments about animal rights, but ultimately his argument is one about Christian compassion and about turning away from the cruelty which industrial meat production visits upon animals on a horrifying scale. A book I read for a class I'm preparing, and it was one of the best.

[Shawn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read it.

"My point is that when you look at a rabbit and can see only pest, or vermin, or a meal, or a commodity, or a laboratory subject, you aren't seeing the rabbit anymore. You are seeing only yourself and the schemes and appetites we bring to the world --- seeing, come to thing of it, like an animal instead of as a moral being with moral vision" (3).

"For me it was a simple moral step of extending that vision out into the world, for what are dogs but affable emissaries from the animal kingdom? Here, in this one creature, was a gift given to me and to my family, bringing so much life and happiness. What gifts they are if our hearts are inclined in the right way and our vision to the right angle -- seeing animals as they are apart from our designs upon them, as fellow creatures on their own terms, some glorious and mighty like the elephant, some fearful and lethal like the tiger, some joyful and gentle like the dolphin, some lowly and unprepossessing like the pig, but not a one of them, however removed from our exalted world, hidden from its Maker's sight" (26).

"The animals were kept in the mine for years at a time, such was the effort involved in dragging them back...'Usually when brought to the surface, the mules tremble at the earth radiant in the sunshine. Later, they almost go mad with fantastic joy. The full splendor of the heavens, the grass, the trees, the breezes, breaks upon them suddenly. They caper and career with extravagant mulish glee. A minor told me of a mule that had spent dome delirious months upon the surface after years of labor in the mines. Finally the time came when he was to be taken back. But the memory of a black existence was upon him; he knew the gaping mouth that threatened to swallow him. No cudgellings could induce him. The men held conventions and discussed plans to budge the mule. The celebrated quality of obstinacy in him won him liberty to gambol clumsily on the surface.' There is nothing fanciful here. It is hard realism, facing facts about suffering both human and animal" (36).

"Take one impulse, your hankering for a hot dog. Multiply it a hundred million times over and follow the lines as they meet in Utah at that 50,000-acre facility, housing all those hogs never once allowed outside. That is the complex world one craving creates. Most people can't even face the details behind it" (44).

"Whenever we are called to decide the fate of an animal, the realism comes in at least facing up to the price of things whenever man with all his powers enters the picture. It requires discernment and care and humility before Creation. It means understanding that habits are not always needs, traditions are not eternal laws, and the fur salon, kitchen table, or Churchill Room are not the center of the moral universe. It means seeing 'the things that are' before we come marching along with our infinite agenda of appetites and designs and theories, and not covering it up with phony science or theological niceties or the unforgiving imperatives of tradition or economics or conservation" (45).

"'Killing 'for sport' is the perfect type of that pure evil for which metaphysicians have sometimes sought. Most wicked deeds are done because the doer proposes some good to himself...[but] the killer for sport has no such comprehensible motive. He prefers death to life, darkness to light. He gets nothing except the satisfaction of saying, 'Something that wanted to live is dead. There is that much less vitality, consciousness, and perhaps, joy in the universe. I am the Spirit that Denies'"(77).

"Why there is no Theodore Roosevelt Award at SCI [Safari Club International] is a mystery. A fitting honor in his name might recognize, for instance, excellence in the total number of orphans and wounded left behind in a single year" (82).

"I found Sharp just as he was completing some forms for an elephant-hunt package, his specialty, judging by the posters displayed at his booth. He seemed to welcome the chance to set aside his price lists and contracts and to talk about the creatures themselves, surprising me with his eloquence. 'Elephants, yes, I always feel regret and sadness. Especially the old bulls like this'--pointing to the picture on his desk. 'Everybody wants the big tuskers. But they're very intelligent, very sensitive animals. They even know when the hunting season begins and ends. I have seen elephants who wandered into the hunting areas running back into the protected areas, and you can see them visibly relax when they've crossed the road, as if they know they're safe. They begin grazing again'"(86).

"'Elephants are like us,' he answers. 'They live to be eighty and they are sexually mature at, what, eighteen or twenty. When you kill them, like when they have to cull the herds from helicopters, it's terrible because you can't just kill some individuals. You have to kill them all. Men just cry like babies. I have been there.' You have to kill them all because we have lately discovered the intricate family relationships at work in the herd. The calves, without their mothers' care, will become rampaging, asocial juveniles, and so they, too, must go"(87).

"In fact, let us just call things what they are. When a man's love of finery clouds his moral judgement, that is vanity. When he lets a demanding palate make his moral choices, that is gluttony. When he ascribes the divine will to his own whims, that is pride. And when he gets angry at being reminded of animal suffering that his own daily choices might help him avoid, that is moral cowardice"(121).

"Few adults have any illusions about our modern factory farms and packing plants, or about the tender mercies accorded the creatures that creepeth therein: the bright, sensitive pig dangling by a rear hoof as he or she is processed along, squealing in horror; the veal calf taken from his mother, tethered and locked away in a tiny dark stall for all of his brief, wretched existence. If you could walk all of humanity through one of these places, 90 percent would never touch meat again. We would leave the place retching and gasping for air. We cringe at the thought of it, and that cringe is to our credit"(128).

"If any actual reverence still inspires Japan's whalers, it seems to be of the self-directed variety. Thus, we may 'adore' whales all we want, provided we have killed them first. We may indulge sentimentality, but only if it is showered upon the butchers themselves and their cherished ways. One may demand again and again to know just what is so 'special' about whales, only one must never, ever ask just what is so 'special' about whale meat. One may even acknowledge the 'loss of merit' in a man who would kill a whale or dolphin, but only if the reproof is confined to empty, self-serving ritual. And one is permitted to feel pity, even to wallow in it, just so long as it is self-pity"(171).

"Confronted with each nation's own questionable products and practices, we have two choices. We can say, as Mr. Komatsu hopes, 'Well, they do X but we do Y, so who are we to judge?' We then end up with no standard at all, instead using other people's cruelties as an excuse for our own. Or, in each country, we can take animal welfare seriously enough to examine X and Y on their own merits, by reference to clear and fixed standards we apply to ourselves and our own industries and all who enjoy the privilege of trading with us"(185).

"Is there, ask the modern theorists, 'something that feels like to be an animal'? Can it be scientifically established that animals feel anything? Can an animal 'think thoughts about thoughts'? Do animals act with 'intentionality,' conscious and deliberate in their actions, or are they merely 'purposeful,' driven by hither and yon by the blind instinct, impulse, or appetite of the moment? Can any animal be 'an appropriate object of sympathy'? As a practical matter it comes down to this: Do animals suffer and, if they do, what duties do we bear them"(191)?

"None of these abstract theories would warrant such space and attention if they stayed where they belong -- in the world of theory, mind puzzles to be debated in the faculty lounge. The problem lies in their practical application. They are what gives license to the vicious things that people actually do to animals. Here, piling conjecture upon conjecture, we have a smart fellow like Mr. Budiansky straining to prove that an elephant doesn't even know his or her own trunk. Somewhere in Africa, meanwhile, some unphilosophical lout is tormenting and killing an elephant, that elephant is trumpeting in fear and rage, the calves are crying and scattering, and the law does nothing to stop it because we're still not quite satisfied that the creatures suffer or that their suffering is meaningful or that they think or feel anything at all, and on and on. I am not sure what is the worse evil, the kill or the theory" (229).

"Missing above all is love, which the theorists mistake for utility. Love for animals, like our own love for one another, comes in seeing the worth and beauty of other apart from us, in understanding that the creatures need not be our equals to be our humble brothers in suffering and sadness and the story of life" (246).

"Closing the door on five hundred faces, I wonder how Perry gets any sleep himself over in that pretty new house of his. How does a man rest at night knowing that in this strawless dungeon of pens are all of these living creatures under his care, never leaving except to die, hardly able to turn or lie down, horror-stricken by every opening of the door, biting and fighting and going mad? This is how the hurricane found them too, all packed in like this, and what was that scene like"(260)?

"To run our modern factory farms and charnel houses, you need people actually willing to do the soul-killing work it requires. In America we have turned to our brothers to the south. Just as in Saint Thomas More's Utopia the bloodletting is left to the slaves, today, here and in Western Europe, we have our immigrants. Packing plants have long relied on the unskilled labor of immigrants, but only now are their services also needed for the rearing of livestock. They make fine 'associates.' They don't ask a lot of questions. They don't make demands. Deportable at any moment, they don't start unions or any of that nonsense. They keep to themselves, especially the illegal ones, and don't make trouble. Typically they don't know the first thing about pigs or other farm animals, either. But what does that matter when there is no tending or herding or caring to be done? All you need is hardworkin' people, people without choices, people so poor and desperate that seven or eight dollars an hour for cutting throats and filling dead holes seems like a break in life. Best of all, immigrants disappear. When they've saved enough and endured enough, you can send them back and feel like you've done them a favor. We don't have to see them, either" (262).

"Gay trundles ahead, directing my attention to this and that with the AI rod she has been using as a pointer, cheerfully unaware, apparently, of the profound betrayal of veterinary ethics everywhere around us -- the sworn obligation of every veterinarian 'to protect animal health [and] relieve animal suffering'"(268).

"To sum up, factory-farm animals aren't suffering, and Smithfield is not to blame for the suffering of factory-farm animals. It's all the consumers' fault. It's the shareholders' fault. It's the economy's fault. It's the competition's fault. It's the fault of the Japanese. The scientists. The weather. The mosquitos. It is the fault, the misery of factory-farm animals, of everything and everybody except the people who actually own the animals and control the farms"(280).

"Now...there is no more element of surprise because there is no more kindness. The treacheries begin on the day they are born. From the start they must feel they are in the hands of an enemy. No creature of the factory farm goes to its death feeling betrayed by friends"(286).

"Only effete 'urbanites,' we are admonished, care about such things because we are so estranged from nature's harsh realities. But these particular realities are not of nature's design, and in every corner of our factory farms one finds the most casual disregard for the nature of the animals themselves. Nature has its own hardships, but its own kindnesses, too, like straw and room to sleep and the care of a mother for her young. when we take even those away, we are smothering the inmost yearnings of these creatures and the charity in our own hearts" (288).

"Factory farming isn't just killing: It is negation, a complete denial of the animal as a living being with his or her own needs and nature. It is not the worst evil we can do, but it is the worst evil we can do to them...Take anything else I have described in this book -- elephants ambushed at the water hole, baby monkeys ripped from their mothers and eaten alive, dolphins trapped and clubbed to death -- and the reality is that none of it is any worse than anything we tolerate in our corporate farms. Perhaps you share my opinion of people who do those other things. You may call them cruel. You may call them reprehensible. But they all have a ready answer: 'You eat meat, don't you'"(289)?

"What are all these hardy menfolk really defending here? A pleasure. A flavor. A feeling in their bellies. And what does this say of them? Here life has presented them with a moral problem, maybe by their lights a little one but a moral problem all the same, and this is all they can think about, hens and burgers and pork loin stiffed with prunes and dried apricots. It's just too inconvenient, too much trouble to change"(320).

"Yet nothing so convinces me of the soundness of my own choice to do without meat as to be told again and again, in a thousand ads and cultural cues, that I have no choice at all, that I must eat meat to be strong and stout and hardy. I must have animal flesh, and yet somehow, with little sense of privation or struggle or self-mortification, I have managed to go twenty-eight years without it, never suffered a single nutrition-related medical problem, and, if I may strut a bit myself, have been known to bench press a respectable 355 pounds"(320).

"For my part, it has always seemed a good rule never to support or advocate any moral act that I would not be prepared to witness in person. I apply that to the questions of human welfare and I see no good reason not to apply it to animal welfare as well. When we shrink from the sight of something, when we shroud it in euphemism, that is usually a sign of inner conflict, of unsettled hearts, a sign that something has gone wrong in our moral reasoning" (321).

"From all three of these thinkers we get the same set of relevant facts: There is such a thing as pain or injury to an animal. There is such a thing as cruelty to animals. And directly or indirectly, cruelty to animals is bad. It is the act of an unjust person" (340).

"Perhaps that is part of the animals' role among us, to awaken humility, to turn our minds back to the mystery of things, and open our hearts to the most impractical of hopes in which all creation speaks as one. For them as for us, if there is any hope at all then it is the same hope, and the same love, and the same God who 'shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away'" (398).

[Kristen · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the best books I have ever read. I picked it up at the library last week because I recognized the author's name from when he was one of George Bush's speech writers. I didn't really even pay attention to what the book was about because I was in a hurry (although the cover image was captivating). The book explores the idea of man's dominion over animals, and how in modern times that has been turned into a completely unrighteous dominion. The author eloquently argues that every animal should be allowed to fulfill the measure of its creation, and that each animal was made for a divine purpose.

I have always been an animal lover, but I have also kind of thought the "animal rights" people were kind of hippie, liberal weirdos. Scully is not one of those people. He isn't one who would throw paint on a fur coat, or set a bunch of lab animals free. He simply thinks that all animals should be treated with dignity and respect, no matter what their purpose is. I could not agree more.

I learned alot from this book (some things I wish I still did not know!). I had no idea that safari companies in Africa offer "canned" hunts, where captive animals (elephants, lions, etc) are released from a cage directly in front of a waiting hunter. Where is the sport in that? How could anyone possibly think that was ok? Some of the animals used in canned hunts are previously captured wild animals, while some are "retired" zoo or circus animals. So after years of entertaining humans while being mistreated in the name of "training", the final fate of many circus animals is to be shipped to africa and shot. Awful!

I also had no idea that the debate is still going on about whether or not animals are conscious, sentient beings. Really??? How is that even still a question, after all the work done with Alex the parrot, Koko the gorilla, and millions of other animals who have shown the ability to display emotions, thoughts, and suffering?

The chapter on factory farms was just awful. To hear the farmers talking about how the pigs "like" being kept in crates and how they are "happy" with not having enough room to turn around just totally reminded me of the way Satan convinces people that evil isn't really evil. I think Abraham Lincoln's quote about slavery ("If slavery isn't evil, then nothing is evil") could be applied to factory farming. If factory farming isn't an example of unrighteous dominion, then there really must just not be any such thing as unrighteous dominion. I finished reading about the farms thinking, "Dang it! Now I will have to be a vegetarian!" because I really just did not want to contribute in any small way to such a cruel industry. But luckily I was able to find some local sources of 100% pasture raised beef and poultry, so my family can still eat meat, but definitely in smaller amounts than we have in the past. I like the idea of following the word of wisdom's admonition to eat meat "sparingly" anyway.

I HIGHLY recommend this book to anyone. You will learn a lot, and it might change the way you think about certain things.

[Vovka · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read other excellent books in this vein (Eating Animals, Animal Liberation, Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?), so there's not much new here to a student of this topic, but what is new is the willingness to tackle the religious arguments in favor of God-granted human dominion over animals. I admire the author's courage and dogged pursuit of his case.

Some great quotes:

“Factory farming isn't just killing: It is negation, a complete denial of the animal as a living being with his or her own needs and nature. It is not the worst evil we can do, but it is the worst evil we can do to them.”

"The only thing worse than cruelty is delegated cruelty.”

“An author describing the methods of intensive farming, or the excesses of sport hunting, or even the harsher uses of animals in science writes with confidence that most readers will share his sense of concern and indignation. Sounding the call to action--convincing people that change is not only necessary, but actually possible--is more problematic. In protecting animals from cruelty, it is always just one step from the mainstream to the fringe. To condemn the wrong is obvious, to suggest its abolition radical.”

[Julie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think this may end up being one of my all-time favorite books. This man writes beautifully, and says all the things I feel about animals, but am too inarticulate to express on my own. I initially bought the book because I heard it was written from a Christian perspective, and that the author is conservative -- and I wanted to expose myself to a perspective that would appeal to Christians that I might encounter in conversations about animal welfare. But (a) he doesn't push the religion stuff a lot (he admits he's not terribly devout), and (b) the religious stuff he did bring in made me want to become a big ol' Christian myself. Or at least, it reminded me of the beautiful parts of Christianity, which I tend to forget most of the time. Religious elements aside, though, the whole book is extremely well written. The author seems super smart, and he addresses all the criticisms directed at animal welfare activists with reason, and sense, and sometimes a bit of sass. In fact, this book kind of majorly kicks ass -- in an erudite and restrained kind of way. I actually feel grateful that he wrote it.

[Keri · Rating 5 out of 5]

Still one of the most powerful books I've ever read. Every few years I pick it up again. Parts of it are hard to get through, but Scully is unmatched in his ability to communicate the heart and soul of this issue. He's also a unique voice in the animal advocate world, as a religious and conservative man. The argument made on a spiritual level - the true meaning of dominion and stewardship, for example - just hits me like a speeding train every time. The plain, inarguable logic and harsh truth of what it means to torture and kill living beings just to have a piece of fried chicken or a steak makes me realize that if people saw what goes on in factory farms and slaughterhouses, no one would ever defend the meat and dairy industries again. Sometimes this book breaks my heart, but other times it's so uplifting that I understand for the first time what it is to have God speak to my heart. I'm not very familiar with God sometimes, but I understand mercy. Mercy is the gift we were given, and what we're called to give to others, human and animal alike. It's the only thing of value we really have. That knowledge is life-changing for me.

[Lauren · Rating 1 out of 5]

I'll start by saying I had to read this for a class I was taking, and the professor had a horribly slanted view on this material. When I say slanted, imagine Rose & Jack trying to hold on to the Titanic as one end was going under. THAT kind of slanted. Ergo, my opinion of it is colored a great deal based on how she forced us to interpret it in class if we wanted to pass and the subsequent discussions that went along with it.

If you're looking for some references on this particular topic, I guess you could say this would be a good reference for it, however I do not believe it gives both sides of the point a fair shake. It, much like my professor, is drastically slanted towards the side of the crazy vegans (I say crazy, referring to the ones trying to slam their point of view down your throat, NOT the ones who don't make a big stink about it unless people are giving them a hard time). Also, it does have a few religious references and arguments in it, so if I'd skip over those areas if your professor or whatever audience your research is being presented to isn't exactly open to the religious side of things.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

Matthew Scully’s book “Dominion” is subtitled “the power of man, the suffering of animals, and the call to mercy.” Scully is a surprising voice to advocate for a re-evaluation of our ethics regarding animals. A Republican who wrote for “National Review” and even did some speech writing for Sarah Palin, Scully speaks to a group that might not be predisposed by political alignment to his admonition.
This paradox is what drew me to Scully’s book, but unfortunately one of the two ways I felt most let down by “Dominion” (I’ll share the second disappointment shortly). I expected Scully to treat his interlocutors with a measure of respect and understanding, but instead found Scully to be bombastic and even demeaning to his ideological opponents. In other words, Scully the political speechwriter leaks out far more than Scully the man paving an ideological path between conservative and liberal. The fleeting moments the latter voice emerged were my favorite in the book.
Scully’s book is ambitious in its scope. Scully builds a theological foundation for his call to the ethical treatment of animals. He then moves on to call out the hunting industry, show the problems with whaling, hunting big game (especially elephants), and finally factory farming. Despite Scully beginning with a theological foundation, “Dominion” isn’t primarily a theological book, it is primarily a political book. That was my second biggest disappointment, in fact. I realize that Scully isn’t theologically trained, but his theological argument was the weakest aspect of the book. I agree with his primary argument, that our call to reflect God in our dominion of the world is a call to reflect the character of God in stewarding the environment he has placed us in and care for the animals in a manner that reflects his nature. Scully deftly moves the argument from being about animal’s rights to about humanity’s call to act ethically to the “least of these.”
So far, so good. But when Scully tries to extend his argument to other animal imagery in the Bible (Jesus metaphorically calling his followers sheep, for instance), he loses ground. The fact that Jesus and the authors of scripture (living in agrarian cultures) utilize animals frequently doesn’t hold the weight that Scully wants it to. He argues that such utilization points to an undergirding ethic of a high care for animals.
Scully moves from this to taking on the hunting industry. It’s another strange move for Scully. He is at his most combative and caricaturing in this section. He scoffs at the idea that hunters care about the environment and rejects the notion that the money that is exchanged does anything to protect the environment. You can hear his hyperbolic style here, "Killing 'for sport' is the perfect type of that pure evil for which metaphysicians have sometimes sought. Most wicked deeds are done because the doer proposes some good to himself...[but] the killer for sport has no such comprehensible motive. He prefers death to life, darkness to light. He gets nothing except the satisfaction of saying, 'Something that wanted to live is dead. There is that much less vitality, consciousness, and perhaps, joy in the universe. I am the Spirit that Denies.”
While Scully lands a number of punches, his overall approach made it hard for me to trust his through and through. While far from an expert on the subject, there were a number of times it seemed as though Scully straw-manned his opponents or flat-out ignored potential objections. I’m not convinced, for example, that shutting down the hunting of predator and prey will create the balance in nature Scully believes it will.
Scully’s sections on the whaling industry and the killing of elephants were much more airtight to my eyes. Scully’s section on factory farming was the strongest of the book and would have been what I would have led with, if I were him. I found it hard to argue with Scully that factory farming is a very hard practice to defend in squaring with God’s purposes for us to have dominion over creation in a manner that reflects his dominion. Scully says, "Factory farming isn't just killing: It is negation, a complete denial of the animal as a living being with his or her own needs and nature. It is not the worst evil we can do, but it is the worst evil we can do to them.”
I agree with Scully that, as a whole, our dominion is caricaturized by selfishness, greed, and callousness. Scully says, "Let's just call things what they are. When a man's love of finery clouds his moral judgment, that is vanity. When he lets a demanding palate make his moral choices, that is gluttony. When he ascribes the divine will to his own whims, that is pride. And when he gets angry at being reminded of animal suffering that his own daily choices might help avoid, that is moral cowardice." When we do not reflect God’s mercy to animals, our image bearing capacity is disfigured. It's true, although like a hell-and-brimstone preacher, while he may be true in what he says, he flattens the truth… and how long term is the change that comes from inducing guilt and beating brows?
Scully ends with an incremental political approach built not on the rights of animals, but rather the call for human beings to exercise dominion as God intends. I found some of his suggestions compelling, although I wish that an approach that was more aware of where his case was thoroughly convincing (factory farming) and less so (hunting) would lead to narrower and more practical political recommendations.
In short, Scully is best when he appeals to God’s high purposes for us in reflecting him. While there is a lot of sound and fury in “Dominion,” I think many of us can agree with statements like this: "Missing above all is love, which the theorists mistake for utility. Love for animals, like our own love for one another, comes in seeing the worth and beauty of other apart from us, in understanding that the creatures need not be our equals to be our humble brothers in suffering and sadness and the story of life.”

For more reviews see thebeehive.live.

[Hayon · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is really incredible. Nearly every page contains a memorable quote or idea; its almost poetic because his writing flows so smoothly. It's a true work of art and the way he delves into the world of science, animal rights, leisure and necessity is seamless. His words are extremely compelling and they have encouraged me to become a stronger vegan and really pour my efforts into the fight for animal rights.

[Vanessa · Rating 1 out of 5]

i cannot get past the first couple of chapters, which rarely happens to me. the continual religious perspective feels forced and a bit ridiculous. can't we have moral arguments against the animal-industrial complex without referring back to the bible? it gets old quick.

[Steven Potts · Rating 1 out of 5]

An absolute abomination of a book, blending quasi-scientific half-facts with religious nonsense.

[Jake Owen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really enjoyed this book. If you want your heart to be opened towards animals (vegetarian or not) then I would definitely recommend.

[The Overflowing Inkwell · Rating 5 out of 5]

"To condemn the wrong is obvious, to suggest its abolition radical."
I'm hard pressed to think of a book that better fulfilled the blurbs on its cover--this book really is "a horrible, wonderful, important book", "a challenging and potentially life-changing" read, one in which there really is "a memorable phrase on virtually every page" that "anyone who has anything to do with animals (and that means everyone who eats them) owes it to him or herself to read."

I've been vegan for five years at this point, so this book was essentially self-torture: I know, at least roughly, what will be in these pages, yet here I go anyway. But there was a lot in here that I didn't know, or had only the vaguest knowledge of, and reading about it was, in a word, horrible. I had no idea about the Safari Club and their awards for killing quotas of animals: Copper for killing members of 7-8 species; Bronze for killing members of 12 more species; Silver for an additional ten; to reach Diamond, you'll have to "have slain a minimum of seventy-six creatures."

Then there are the themed awards. I can hear the Steam achievement sound chime as the names are listed: Bears of the World Grand Slam for having slain an Alaskan brown bear, a grizzly, a Eurasian brown bear, and a polar bear; the African Big Five Grand Slam, awarded upon the deaths of an elephant, a rhinoceros, a Cape buffalo, a lion, and a leopard; Gazelles of the World; a Wild Sheep Grand Slam; the African 29. Scully tells us that these Grand Slams are further personalized with "more distinctions and honors conferred according to weight [of the animal slain], tusk length, horn size, fur color and quality, and so on."

"By the time you have attained all of Safari Club's awards in all categories, collecting that most coveted honor of all, the 'Crowning Achievement Award,' you will have extinguished the minimum-required 322 animals. One fellow who picked up this year's 'Intercontinental Award' 'already has 369 species.'" Another man was entered into the Hall of Fame for "his 11 Grand Slams, 273 hunts on six continents, and 369 species." There's a Diana the Huntress award for the ladies: the 1998 award was given to a woman for "her 116 entries in The Official Record Book of Trophy Animals."

Yes, this book was published in 2002, and honestly, that's the worst part. All I could think of while reading was how everything has only increased in scale since this book was written. The chapter on the Safari Club mentions their inroads in Mexico and their goals to get hunting the wild cats of South America for a new Grand Slam. What have they achieved that I know nothing about? The chapters on marine mammals show a dire picture back then: how much worse is it now? I've mostly been exposed to the factory farming side of things (rather than the hunting side), so I know how much larger it has all gotten. How much else has grown immeasurably worse since this book was published?

This is legitimately one of the most challenging books I've ever read, and I wish more people would read it and honestly deal with what it has to say, with the reality it presents.

If there is a qualm I have with this book, it is Scully's promotion of vegetarianism. I know, I know: I can hear the glee at vegan/vegetarian infighting already. Every vegetarian I have heard talk on the subject talks about it the same way Scully does: living 'respectfully' with chickens, cows, and sheep, so we can take their eggs, milk, and wool for ourselves, keeping them safe and well-fed in exchange. Scully goes one step further:

When philosophers, theologians, or scientists inform us that animals are of absolutely equal moral value to humans or of absolutely no moral value, that we may never use animals, even cooperatively and humanely, or that we may use them without end, they have all overstepped themselves. They are asserting ultimate values beyond anyone's knowing, venturing into regions where even natural law and the most profound insights of man are to sovereign truth as a baby's building blocks are to language.

And that's nonsense. The 'cooperative and humane use' Scully wants doesn't exist, and likely never has. He seems to take cows, sheep, and chickens as they are today, right now, and proclaim that is how they have always been, and that is how they should be. But if the cow doesn't get pregnant, she doesn't 'cooperatively' produce milk for the humans to take. Is ensuring a cow is routinely impregnated really 'cooperative'? Is breeding her species to produce such staggering quantities of milk that she is genuinely in pain until we milk her 'humane'? Is breeding a chicken to produce 30 times more eggs than she would naturally considered 'cooperative'? Egg-laying is painful, and highly demanding on the system: depleted of minerals, hens' bones often spontaneously break. Egg yolk peritonitis (EYP) is one of the primary causes of hen death: material intended to create an egg gets outside the reproductive organs and causes infection. I've seen the liquid drained out of hens' abdomens, the shell-less eggs surgically removed from their reproductive tract where three or four partially formed eggs become impacted and literally cook inside them. Which part of ignoring all that and still taking what they agonizingly produced is considered 'humane'?

(What is actually humane are the sanctuaries and shelters that stop impregnating their cows and put hormonal implants in their chickens to prevent continuous laying. What eggs are laid are eaten by the chickens to return those nutrients and minerals back to their bodies, not taken by humans.)

Tellingly, Scully doesn't champion the 'cooperative and humane use' of animals that don't have something about them that we can take without killing them. One would suppose in the age of boar-bristle brushes and feathered hats, he would have been all for the cooperative use of those animals, but since our preferences have changed he won't argue to keep exotic birds and boars around on idyllic farms. Why not, then, follow the same pattern with chickens, sheep, and cows?

Scully readily describes how people are engineering deer to grow the kinds of racks of antlers hunters want to see. He finds it rightly degenerate to genetically modify pigs to remove natural responses to their environment, but if Scully honestly wanted everyone to source their eggs, milk, and wool from a small family farm, those animals would have to be further altered to produce such absolutely astronomical amounts on their own to be feasible that I doubt he would prefer his desire be played out in reality.

Scully sees "dominion as domestication, like pruning the tree to make it grow. Indeed such animals would never know life at all were it not for these small businesses" (page 28) though he himself later states that to reduce a species to livestock "would be numerical survival only for these species, and their disappearance a morally preferable alternative" and that "there are fates worse than extinction" (page 358). He has fallen into the trap he sees so clearly when others fall into it: save the elephant, save the whale, save the exotic and beautiful, but these animals? These ones we use? Who cares about them?

I heard the point made once on an Earthling Ed reel, and it has stuck with me ever since: eggs are a gateway back to factory farming. If we did away entirely with animal agriculture and slaughter, yet allowed people to still keep backyard chickens, we'd be back at the industrial factory farms within a month. Why? Because not everyone is able to keep their own chickens. It would be impossible for everyone in an apartment complex, for example, to each individually keep their own chickens for reasons of space; while most people are simply too busy to add backyard chickens into their lives. So what will they do? Find the nearest person who is able to raise chickens for eggs and start buying from them. Demand rises, and that person has to keep more chickens to supply the eggs needed. And once we have sheds full of chickens for eggs, what are going to do with the hens who aren't laying anymore, the ones we can't or don't want to waste money on feeding for the next several years of their lives? Well, I'm sure someone might like a chicken roast again....

The factory farmers know it. Scully just doesn't want to look it in the eye. Demand is too great. We are not a few million people scattered across the face of the planet in small villages. There are billions of us. Even if each person drastically cut back on their personal intake, there are still so many more of us to supply that there is no way to revert back to personal farms. Demand would so outstrip supply that prices would be prohibitive. Then someone would have the bright idea to set up a shed of chickens that could produce eggs for such cutthroat prices, they'd sell like hotcakes.....

It always leads here. To the hell on earth we have right now. It really is all or nothing. And Scully, for all his excellent work looking at all the different philosophies and moral arguments and seeing their flaws, was unfortunately incapable of seeing the flaws in his own argument. It seemed telling that he only visited or attempted to visit factory farms that dealt with pigs rather than any of the three he wants to continue using.

I agree with him that religion does have to be a part of the conversation here in America, whether we like it or not. Any movement toward the abolition of abuses must at least tip its hat in the direction of the religious, because that is a large part of American life. So long as people believe they have a right, ordained by God, to use animals to whatever extent they desire, very little will win against that view. I appreciate that Scully did include religious arguments in this book, that he looked at where it was vague and where it was plain, and where people have abused their religious tenets to do what they please. I'm having a dualism moment, and am quite taken with the concept of an evil demiurge having created the planet to extract suffering from the life on it. That seems to make more sense of the way life looks on Earth than does a loving God having to deal with a few free will oopsies from the wayward humans, and I was pleased that even Scully seemed to sense the cracks in his worldview, going so far as to admit that:

Predation itself, the intrinsic evil in nature's design of creatures devouring and absorbing one another to survive, is among the hardest of all things to fathom. One falls back in the end on the idea that it was not God's design at all, that there lies a hope and expectation beyond creation's "groan of travail," as we are promised, not only mankind but all creatures delivered from our "bondage to decay." page 318, emphasis added

Regardless of where I land on my religious views--for they change frequently--it is always my single great hope that the life on this planet has more after death. The pain and suffering and brutality of it all is too much for me to handle. The idea that this life is all any of us have, that to be born into a factory farm, to live in madness and suffering in a concrete box for a few months or a few years, until the fear and pain of the slaughterhouse has come is all they get; or that the free creatures of the wild suffer the hunter's mark, shipped to hunting grounds and brutalized with cold harpoons and bowhunting, left to be stuffed and displayed in some disgusting club, is all they have; that even absent all humans, the brutality of nature is all they get--is too much to bear. I genuinely hope, as he does, that there something after all this, something better for all those who got absolutely nothing good from their moments on earth; and until the day I find out for certain, I'll keep talking about these things in the hope that even one more animal finds happiness and comfort in the days that they are here with us.

Read this book.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am not what you'd call an 'animal person.' I have never had a pet, nor do I want one. Although I have moved to a largely plant based diet over the past three years, my choice to go mostly vegetarian had more to do with my health than animals. I don't think much about animals, really, except that I don't like factory farming, and think zoos are mean. Then, about a week ago, after watching the documentary Vegucated, I learned something that utterly horrified me: male baby chicks are thrown alive into giant grinding machines because they can't lay eggs. The video of this practice was utterly shocking to me, and made me realize that there is an entire universe of cruelty out there in the world that I knew very little about. I had been meaning to read this book for several years, so I got it and thought I'd slog my way through.

I read in three days, which is saying something: this is a long, dense, deep book. 398 pages, 10 point font, full of an awful lot of law and philosophy. Dominionis written by a conservative Catholic who writes for National Review and who worked as a speech writer for President George W. Bush, so he's hardly some hippy tree hugger or breathless Vegan activist. This is a guy who believes in free markets, limited government regulation, and the primacy of the individual. And he is repulsed by how animals are treated. The book surveys big game hunting, whaling, animal experimentation, and factory farming. I had no idea about how any of these things really work, and I could not believe how unspeakably vile it all is. We are not talking about deer hunting, or indigenous people killing a whale, or tests done on animals to help cure cancer. We are talking about people raising monkeys in cages to kill them and sell their meat. We are talking about the Japanese classifying whales as fish and killing thousands each year for 'scientific research.' We are talking about pouring common household chemicals into the eyes of rabbits to show--yet again--that those chemicals are blinding. And we are talking about pigs (just for one example) who are as intelligent as a three year old human being spending their few years of life being tortured. As I read, the word I kept coming back to over and over again was 'unspeakable.' Literally: what I read left me speechless.

Much of the book discusses mankind's role in this world, and the Biblical idea of dominion. That is, the belief that 'man is the measure of all things,' and that all of the world is ours to use and abuse as we see fit. As the author puts it, people view creation 'as a colorful backdrop for human action,' and believe that because we can dominate and slaughter and warp life as we see fit (through things like genetic manipulation of animal DNA) we should feel free to go ahead and do these dreadful things, especially if they make money. An elephant, for example, has no inherent worth unless someone puts a market value on it, then conjures up enough wealth to go and shoot it. Not for food. Not out of necessity. Just because of some twisted appetite to do so. Whales--utterly harmless, peaceful creature (maybe not killer whales)--end up in miso soup in Japan because some small but wealthy minority wishes to eat them. Chimpanzees, a species so intelligent that it can learn sign language and communicate with us, spend decades in small cages to serve our need to create more potent drugs and chemicals. And on and on and on.

The author's main argument is not that humans shouldn't eat meat, or that medical testing isn't sometimes necessary, or that people who hunt for food are immoral. The author's point is that, like so much else of our modern world, our treatment of animals has become deeply inhumane as it has become more industrialized. As with most of humanity's vices in this day and age., the cruel treatment of animals has become excessive. The author's call is for mercy, and for human beings to realize that animals are living creatures, not cogs in our human systems. I am profoundly moved by this book--again, written by a Republican and read by an guy who has never picked up a cat in his life. I kept wincing. I feel convicted. I kept thinking, how is this different than wealthy people who go to poor countries in Asia to have sex with children? That, too, is an appetite. That, too, fails to acknowledge the claims of life and dignity. That, too, is just sick. And that, too, is a perversion of the wealthy; a symptom of affluenza, similar to those people who buy an tiger from India, have it shipped back to the United States, then shoot it as it emerges from its cage and have it stuffed. Appetite plus wealth plus what is darkest in human nature. It is all so disturbing.

The author spends a good ten pages or so demolishing Professor Pete Singer's philosophy, too, which I found joyful. I hate the evil, twisted fuck.

With all of this said, the book could have been 50 pages shorter. There was a long section about consciousness and sentience that was a bit dry, and to me, unnecessary. As interesting as neuroethnology is (I actually studied it in college long ago), I don't think I need to be convinced about the intelligence of animals to recognize that their maltreatment coarsens human nature. Like abortion, if people could see what is being done to the creatures they bring into this world, much of what constitutes 'animal husbandry' in this day and age would end tomorrow.

This book is hard. It is important. It is infuriating. I don't know if I'm happy that I read it, or if I would have been better off not connecting all of the dots that I've witnessed over the years with regard to animals and food and human beings. Very, very dark stuff.

[Rachel Fisher · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was hard. I was most interested in reading this book to hear from someone I would NOT normally agree with, but ultimately found so many of Scully’s arguments obvious and basic. Maybe to someone on the fence some of these topics might have landed differently… Either way, I was a bit surprised by the amount of very emotional/flowery arguments being made that I didn’t find very compelling — not because I disagree with the message, but because the worldview feels very mismatched. There seems to be a disconnect here in acknowledging the issue vs the system. I don’t feel like you can be a fanboy of capitalism while also being upset or surprised that animal agriculture has turned into what it has in the name of profit and efficiency. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[Aaron C · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was my second experience with Animal Rights Philosophy and certainly not my last. While this was an easier and more interesting read than Peter Singer’s ‘Animal Liberation’ it did tend to veer off topic into respective sub topics. I would’ve preferred more solid and structured chapters but one cannot ignore the moral imperative brought forth of caring for animals and of the injustices that plague them. This was a gripping and at times very disheartening read that appeals not only to religious folk but to anyone that believes in the simple respect and consideration for our animal brothers and sisters.

Given the title, I thought there would be more of a biblical argument and flurries of verses but instead Scully takes a more general appeal to the goodness of God and how it compares to (then 2001) treatment of animals.

Some passages could’ve been shortened but I must say - the detail of the evil ways animals are consistently driven to extinction and pain by the hand of man in the name of pleasure or profit, was extremely upsetting to read.

[John Yunker]

Dominion: A Christian writes about hunting, factory farming, and other sins against animals

Several years ago, I heard about a Republican, a former speech writer for George W. Bush, who had written a book in favor of protecting animals. I also heard that he was vegetarian (now vegan).

I initially wondered if hell had frozen over.

I’m joking, but only slightly. Because it was just a few months ago, at the Republican CPAC conference, that a former aid for Donald Trump warned that democrats wanted to take your hamburgers away. And Rep. Mark Meadows (North Carolina) warned that Democrats were coming for your cows.

All this despite that fact that most Democrats eat cows too.

That this issue over beef and hamburgers is becoming an issue (driven more by climate change than animal rights) led me to finally get around to reading this book: Dominion, by Matthew Scully.


And while I disagree with a few aspects of the book (Scully’s off-putting obsession with abortion and Peter Singer), I would dare anyone to read this book — Democrat or Republican, Christian, Muslim, Jew or atheist, and not come away a vegetarian.

As a devout Christian, Scully goes back to the Bible and calls into question this idea that the Bible says it’s okay for humans to eat animals. He points out that after that much-cited line in Genesis about man having dominion over animals, comes this line:

And God said, Behold. I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree yielding fruit; to you it shall be for meat.

If you read this line as advocating a plant-based lifestyle, you read it correctly.

Scully writes: “Indeed there was a time when Christians fasted from animal products throughout all forty days of Lent, a form of self-denial still found among the orthodox and matched in Islam by the prohibition on killing game while on pilgrimage.” Scully continues:

The next step seems obvious to me. If sanctity is the goal, and flesh-eating a mark of the Fall, the one is to be sought and the other to be avoided. Why just say grace when you can show it? Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, the life of a pig or a cow or fowl of the air isn’t worth much. But if it’s the Grand Scheme we are going by, just what is a plate of bacon or veal worth? The skeptical reader can write me off as misguided, if not mad. I am betting that in the Book of Life “He had mercy on the creatures” is going to count more than “He ate well.”

Scully is a powerful writer. I admire the courage it took him to write a book that flies counter to the worldview of so many of his colleagues.

As the subtitle of this book states, this is a book about mercy. And chapter after chapter we are confronted with scenes of great violence to animals, scenes utterly devoid of mercy.

Scully takes us with him to a conference for Safari Club, a grotesque affair, in which people win awards based on how many exotic animals they kill. Scully writes of ranches in the US, where animals are fenced in so that hunters on busy schedules can have guaranteed kills. If there is karma in the afterlife, well, you can imagine what I wish on hunters.

As a prominent Republican, Scully was welcomed to this event and it was fascinating to see how people interacted with him. He destroys the myth of hunting as conservation, something I hear often in this part of Oregon, where hunters talk about their duck stamps and license fees as a form of love for animals and the environment. He quotes one such “conservationist” who tells this story about elephants in Namibia:

…we have a road that divides the hunting area from the protected area. The water is in the hunting area. And I see the elephants come into the area, rushing, to get a drink. And then they rush back. And when they’re across the road you can see them relax. You can see the relief. They know.

Yes, elephants know all too well what monsters we can be.

Scully moves on to factory farms and spends a great deal of time touring pig enclosures, or prisons, as they really should be called. I won’t recount the horrors he witnesses on his tours — led by docents who are too numbed by it to apparently care — but I will say that this is some of the most powerful writing about pigs in captivity I have read. And, like the Safari Club, I suspect it is because the author is welcomed into these private areas by the executives who view him as one of their own. He is not one of those crazy vegan protestors, so he gets the personal tour. And when you see the disconnect between the executives who have convinced themselves they are treating the animals well and the author who sees the truth, you get a feeling for just what a massively awful system we have constructed, one that few people ever see, protected by laws and money as well as our allegiance to traditions and habits. A system that abuses and murders billions of animals every year. Not millions. Billions.

And we are all complicit. As Scully writes, “Everyone is wrong.”

It may be adamantly objected that I am equating injustice to animals with injustice to human beings, a sign of my own misplaced priorities and moral confusion. This rejoinder only cuts the other way. It is only further evidence of our own boundless capacity for self-delusion, especially when there is money involved. For if so many wrongs once thought right can fill our human story, such unbounded violence and disregard of human life, how much easier for the human heart to overlook the wrongs done to lowly animals, to tolerate intolerable things. Tradition with all its happy assumptions and necessary evils, all of its content majorities and stout killers, is not always a reliable guide. “We had stopped short at Comfort, and mistaken it for Civilization,” as Disraeli remarked in another context. Sometimes tradition and habit are just that, comfortable excuses to leave things be, even when they are unjust and unworthy. Sometimes — not often, but sometimes — the cranks and radicals turn out to be right. Sometimes Everyone is wrong.

Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to MercySeveral years ago, I heard about a Republican, a former speech writer for George W. Bush, who had written a book in favor of protecting animals. I also heard that he was vegetarian (now vegan).

I initially wondered if hell had frozen over.

I’m joking, but only slightly. Because it was just a few months ago, at the Republican CPAC conference, that a former aid for Donald Trump warned that democrats wanted to take your hamburgers away. And Rep. Mark Meadows (North Carolina) warned that Democrats were coming for your cows.

All this despite that fact that most Democrats eat cows too.

That this issue over beef and hamburgers is becoming an issue (driven more by climate change than animal rights) led me to finally get around to reading this book: Dominion, by Matthew Scully.


And while I disagree with a few aspects of the book (Scully’s off-putting obsession with abortion and Peter Singer), I would dare anyone to read this book — Democrat or Republican, Christian, Muslim, Jew or atheist, and not come away a vegetarian.

As a devout Christian, Scully goes back to the Bible and calls into question this idea that the Bible says it’s okay for humans to eat animals. He points out that after that much-cited line in Genesis about man having dominion over animals, comes this line:

And God said, Behold. I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree yielding fruit; to you it shall be for meat.

If you read this line as advocating a plant-based lifestyle, you read it correctly.

Scully writes: “Indeed there was a time when Christians fasted from animal products throughout all forty days of Lent, a form of self-denial still found among the orthodox and matched in Islam by the prohibition on killing game while on pilgrimage.” Scully continues:

The next step seems obvious to me. If sanctity is the goal, and flesh-eating a mark of the Fall, the one is to be sought and the other to be avoided. Why just say grace when you can show it? Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, the life of a pig or a cow or fowl of the air isn’t worth much. But if it’s the Grand Scheme we are going by, just what is a plate of bacon or veal worth? The skeptical reader can write me off as misguided, if not mad. I am betting that in the Book of Life “He had mercy on the creatures” is going to count more than “He ate well.”

Scully is a powerful writer. I admire the courage it took him to write a book that flies counter to the worldview of so many of his colleagues.

As the subtitle of this book states, this is a book about mercy. And chapter after chapter we are confronted with scenes of great violence to animals, scenes utterly devoid of mercy.

Scully takes us with him to a conference for Safari Club, a grotesque affair, in which people win awards based on how many exotic animals they kill. Scully writes of ranches in the US, where animals are fenced in so that hunters on busy schedules can have guaranteed kills. If there is karma in the afterlife, well, you can imagine what I wish on hunters.

As a prominent Republican, Scully was welcomed to this event and it was fascinating to see how people interacted with him. He destroys the myth of hunting as conservation, something I hear often in this part of Oregon, where hunters talk about their duck stamps and license fees as a form of love for animals and the environment. He quotes one such “conservationist” who tells this story about elephants in Namibia:

…we have a road that divides the hunting area from the protected area. The water is in the hunting area. And I see the elephants come into the area, rushing, to get a drink. And then they rush back. And when they’re across the road you can see them relax. You can see the relief. They know.

Yes, elephants know all too well what monsters we can be.

Scully moves on to factory farms and spends a great deal of time touring pig enclosures, or prisons, as they really should be called. I won’t recount the horrors he witnesses on his tours — led by docents who are too numbed by it to apparently care — but I will say that this is some of the most powerful writing about pigs in captivity I have read. And, like the Safari Club, I suspect it is because the author is welcomed into these private areas by the executives who view him as one of their own. He is not one of those crazy vegan protestors, so he gets the personal tour. And when you see the disconnect between the executives who have convinced themselves they are treating the animals well and the author who sees the truth, you get a feeling for just what a massively awful system we have constructed, one that few people ever see, protected by laws and money as well as our allegiance to traditions and habits. A system that abuses and murders billions of animals every year. Not millions. Billions.

And we are all complicit. As Scully writes, “Everyone is wrong.”

It may be adamantly objected that I am equating injustice to animals with injustice to human beings, a sign of my own misplaced priorities and moral confusion. This rejoinder only cuts the other way. It is only further evidence of our own boundless capacity for self-delusion, especially when there is money involved. For if so many wrongs once thought right can fill our human story, such unbounded violence and disregard of human life, how much easier for the human heart to overlook the wrongs done to lowly animals, to tolerate intolerable things. Tradition with all its happy assumptions and necessary evils, all of its content majorities and stout killers, is not always a reliable guide. “We had stopped short at Comfort, and mistaken it for Civilization,” as Disraeli remarked in another context. Sometimes tradition and habit are just that, comfortable excuses to leave things be, even when they are unjust and unworthy. Sometimes — not often, but sometimes — the cranks and radicals turn out to be right. Sometimes Everyone is wrong.

Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy

This review first appeared on EcoLit Books.