THE MORAL STATUS OF ANIMALS

If ethical thinking is an evolutionary process, as Aldo Leopold, the father of modem environmental ethics, thought it was, 1 then today we stand at a crossroads in that discipline. Or is it instead, a dead end? For thousands, if not tens-of-thousands of years, human beings have despotically ruled the rest of the animal kingdom. Believing ourselves to be superior, other species were categorized as existing "merely as a means to an end," 2 a human end, that is. Animals, other than humans, held no moral status.3

Similarly, to kill animals for human purposes also infringes the right to respectful treatment.
This, of course, would rule out most of the ways in which animals are currently used by humans, as sources of food and as subjects of animal experimentation in particular. Such is the dominance of this abolitionist tradition of animal rights that the common assumption is that it represents the only possible version. Such a perception severely constrains the opportunities for compromise between animal rights advocates and those wishing to improve the welfare of animals, because the latter perceive that the former are really only concerned with abolishing all uses of animals. In addition, the abolitionist version of animal rights, whatever its normative credentials, which are extremely contentious, would seem to be a classic example of an unachievable ideal theory. For it is confronted by some hard facts about the world. No country has prohibited the use of animals as sources of food or as experimental subjects and, moreover, there is not the slightest chance that these practices will be abolished in the foreseeable future.
The value of Rollin's position in animal ethics is, I think, that it offers an alternative version of animal rights, which is both theoretically more credible and practically more realistic. For Rollin, the well-being of animals involves more than just minimizing pain. Rather, animals have their own natures, distinct for each species, based on what they experience. Many species of animals, for instance, can experience fear, loneliness, boredom, and anxiety. The thwarting of animal natures, or their telos, is morally wrong, and represents an infringement of their rights. Such a position has allowed Rollin to engage profitably with many of those who work with animals while consistently articulating an animal rights ethic. Thus, he challenges practices-factory farming in particular-that do not allow the telos of animals to flourish. The key point is that, for Rollin, the use of animals is not necessarily a constraint on their telos. In this context, I was particularly struck by Rollin's support for the traditional husbandry practices of ranchers-where, he claims, a genuine contract between humans and animals exists-and his disregard for the industrialization of animal agriculture where the human side of the bargain, namely, to take care of the needs of individual animals, has virtually disappeared.
Much of Rollin's book is an account of his attempts to influence decision makers and those working directly with animals. Rollin is right to point out that in his lifetime the treatment of animals has been transformed from being a matter of personal morality to a matter of social, and therefore political, concern. To this extent, the book serves as a valuable study of the emergence of an important political issue and a social movement designed to promote it. It is also a lesson in effective advocacy. Rollin has, rightly, been preoccupied with making a difference in the "real world," and this has necessitated a strategy of reminding rather than preaching, of "judo rather than sumo" (45-47). The book is littered with the positive results of this approach. A "major theme in my life's work," he writes, is "that even in issues as divisive as animal welfare, rational people can negotiate compromise" (237). This is not a work, however, that is going to satisfy entirely the rigorous political scientist. For example, Rollin sometimes overplays his own role, particularly in legislative initiatives such as the passage of the 1985 Animal Welfare Act. Moreover, he also, I think, exaggerates the strength of that statute which, as he recognizes, does not stipulate-unlike, for instance, the equivalent British law-that all experimental procedures conducted using animals must be subject to a cost-benefit analysis before being approved. The limited enforcement of the legislation, too, is largely ignored.
What is striking, and shocking, about Rollin's account of the attitude of scientists (covered mainly in chapter 12 of the book) is their traditional reluctance to dispense with an ideology that doubts that animals are conscious and aware beings and therefore worthy of any moral concern. If anything, the change Rollin describes, and has helped shape, represents the emergence of an ethic that recognizes that animals have moral standing because they are sentient and, as a result, that we should avoid inflicting unnecessary suffering on them. This is at odds with Rollin's claim that there has been a shift to an animal rights agenda. What has changed over the past thirty years or so, I would argue, is that the definition of unnecessary has shifted, so that, for instance, it is no longer regarded as necessary by many to test cosmetics on animals or to kill animals for their fur. An animal rights ethic would go much further, and much further than would be currently acceptable to the majority. There are, it seems to me, real problems, for instance, in justifying the use of animals in most scientific experiments even from the perspective of Rollin's more nuanced animal rights position.
Despite these concerns, this is a book that can be highly recommended to anyone who wants an introductory account of the key issues in the increasingly important debate about our treatment of animals. It serves as a powerful testament to a life devoted to improving their lives and deaths. George Steiner, the twentieth-century Renaissance man, philosopher, literary critic, and novelist, offers us a sharp contrast to Adolf Eichmann, the