Karen Davis, PhD,
United Poultry Concerns (UPC)
April 2001
Most people who "raise" animals and who eat them and the products of their bodies, including their young, do so with no more remorse towards their victims than the acknowledged hen rapist feels towards his victim. This connection makes bestiality a core moral issue. From animal agriculture to zoos, the core of our relationship with the animals we use is our invasion of their sexual privacy and our physical manipulation of their sex, reproductive, and family lives. Historically, animal agriculture has facilitated bestiality, not simply because of the proximity of farmed animals, but because controlling other creatures' bodies invites this extension of a license that has already been taken. Humans engage in oral intercourse with unconsenting nonhuman animals every time they put a piece of an animal's body inside their mouth.
In March, Princeton philosophy professor Peter Singer, the author of Animal Liberation (1975, 1990), published a startling book review essay, "Heavy Petting," in the online sex magazine Nerve. Singer's essay was prompted by Dutch writer Midas Dekkers' controversial book Dearest Pet: On Bestiality.
Dearest Pet takes us on a journey of human sexual interest in and use of nonhuman animals as documented in art, literature, court records, personal confessions, veterinary files, and popular culture through history up to the present. Dekkers forces us to look at some old things in a new way. He says, for instance, that since the God of the Christians, like Zeus of the Olympians, once descended in the form of a bird to know a woman-the story of Leda and the Swan and the story of the Virgin Mary being visited by the Holy Spirit in the form of a Dove--Christianity "is founded on bestiality" (9). Of the perennial sexual abuse of farmed animals, Dekkers says that girls "have less opportunity than boys, if only because almost all animals are of their own sex: cows, ewes, sows, chickens, nanny-goats" (137), and that "Since animal abuse has been institutionalized in our society in the food industry, it cannot be difficult for sadism to find satisfaction" (147).
Dekkers does not argue that human imposed sex with
farmed animals per se is sadism; however, any sex with small animals such as
chickens and rabbits, he says, "automatically involves sadism" (146). In
addition to sexual abuse of small animals, Dekkers documents severe internal
injuries that have been diagnosed in cows and calves as a result of their
being raped by men using everything from their own bodies to pitchforks
(126). He documents men getting revenge on female farmed animals who refuse
their advances, showing another aspect of the link between nonconsensual sex
and human violence. He cites a French farmer "who thought that many of his
chickens and turkeys were dying in suspicious circumstances" (126). He
persuades us that such circumstances may not be uncommon.
Even while noting that the sex life of domestic animals is "completely
organized by human beings" (178), raising the question of whether the
consent of a domestic animal is ever possible under any circumstances,
desire notwithstanding, Dekkers says that "as long as none of those involved
suffers pain, no form of sex should be seen as pathological, bad or mad"
(148).
In his essay, Peter Singer is almost as equivocal as Dekkers is, though both
seem to agree that whatever may or may not be wrong with it, the central
issue in any sexual encounter between humans and other creatures is whether
it involves cruelty, meaning coercion and/or infliction of physical pain and
bodily harm, regardless of who the perpetrator is. Singer's suggestion that
interspecies sex, whether initiated by humans or nonhumans, could
conceivably be moral and mutually satisfying, raised a furor among many
animal advocates. Some insisted that Singer should be exiled from the modern
movement of which he is the "father"; others demanded that he step down as
head of The Great Ape Project. While philosophy professor, Tom Regan, of
North Carolina State University and the author of The Case for Animal Rights
(1983), argued in the Raleigh News & Observer (April 3) that the morality of
bodily contact cannot be reduced to issues of pain and pleasure alone, as
Singer's utilitarian ethics might imply, the two main grievances advanced by
animal advocates on the Internet were that Singer in publishing his
shameless essay discredits our movement in the eyes of the public, and that
nonhuman animals are not in a position to give informed consent either by
virtue of other species' presumed inherent intellectual inferiority to
humans or by virtue of the built-in constraints of captivity: the limited
options, inability to escape, physical coercion, and psychological pressure
that captivity imposes on a captive individual. I argued the latter in a
letter published in The Village Voice, April 10, p. 6. Not only is it the
height of arrogance to reduce the rest of creation to the level of planetary
idiocy and human childhood; it's absurd.
Adult nonhuman animals, from
gorillas to guinea fowl, negotiate complex environments every day. They form
adult relationships with their peers. They raise and teach their young. They
socialize, provide nurturing, and groom themselves and each other (in birds
it's called preening). As functional adults, nonhuman animals perform a
multiplicity of cognitive acts, including practical decision-making, that
are not exhibited by human children or the mentally impaired. Fair pleading
demands that we stop "defending" other animals from ourselves by calling
them "dumb."
Just as Peter Singer predicted in Dearest Pet, the primary mainstream
objection to bestiality, and to his essay, if the The New Republic and
National Review Online are representative, is that sex between humans and
nonhumans, regardless of the circumstances in which it occurs including
rape, is "an offence to our status and dignity as human beings (5)." For
Kathryn Lopez of National Review Online the red flag is any suggestion that
"humans ain't nothing special" ("Peter Singer Strikes Again," March 8). She
seemed more threatened by the prospect of shared speciality and by Singer's
use of four-letter words than by what he had to say about what hens are put
through by the egg industry-the institutionalized assault they endure so
nonvegetarians can eat their eggs--and about the sexual assaults some hens
have been forced to undergo from an animal whose hands are as big as a hen's
entire body. Likewise Peter Berkowitz of the The New Republic (March 8)
complained that for Singer, it appeared that "the only consideration we need
bear in mind in using animals to satisfy our sexual desire is whether we are
causing cruelty," as if to say that cruelty (or at least cruelty to animals,
like animals themselves in his view) amounts to little more than a pesky
footnote in the ethical account of humanity. Berkowitz seemed far more
aggrieved by the idea that other creatures have a dignity that links us to
them than by the cruelty we impose on them without a shred of compassion or
restraint, which is exactly how hens are treated by the egg industry in the
case that Singer cited to show how deeply woven into the fabric of human
life human obscenity really is.
Most people who "raise" animals and who eat them and the products of their
bodies, including their young, do so with no more remorse towards their
victims than the acknowledged hen rapist feels towards his victim. This
connection makes bestiality a core moral issue. From animal agriculture to
zoos, the core of our relationship with the animals we use is our invasion
of their sexual privacy and our physical manipulation of their sex,
reproductive, and family lives. Historically, animal agriculture has
facilitated bestiality, not simply because of the proximity of farmed
animals, but because controlling other creatures' bodies invites this
extension of a license that has already been taken. Humans engage in oral
intercourse with unconsenting nonhuman animals every time they put a piece
of an animal's body inside their mouth. Partly as a result of such eating,
people over 50 with enough money in Western culture will soon be, if they
aren't already, walking around with half their internal organs having been
taken by force from creatures they think it demeaning of our species to have
sex with. Instead of trivializing the case for animal rights or seeking to
degrade humans, as some have asserted, Peter Singer's essay on bestiality
helps to make the banality of what is truly bad as clear as the fact that
parents who know that by feeding their children animal products they are
setting them up for preventable health risks and medical bills are
practicing child abuse.
The taboo that needs to be shattered is not the prohibition against
bestiality, but against caring about nonhuman animals in a respectful,
nonpatronizing, and unapologetic way, and against starting one's kids off
the right way at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, no matter how much this
causes people to talk.
Related links:
3/15/2001:
UPC Letter to National Review Online re: Bestiality
4/4/2001:
UPC Letter Re: Laura Vanderkam, Peter Singer's 'Heavy Petting,'
4/4/2001:
Village Voice Letters Re: Bestiality
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