The Next Civil Rights Crusade

At the Adelaide Zoo in Australia, humans are housed in the old orangutan enclosure—next to the chimpanzees—to demonstrate that we are just another part of the animal kingdom. In Seattle, people attend lectures about setting up trust funds for their pets’ care after their owners have died—just as the late Leona Helmsley did, leaving $25 million to her dog, Trouble. In Los Angeles, a Bible-study group lays hands on a sick dog, praying God will heal her—and if not, receive her into heaven. And at a medical research facility in Bethesda, animal-rights activists picket against the use of animals in medical research, demanding that researchers use humans instead. Are these merely examples of over-zealous animal lovers—or signs of the latest “rights” campaign gaining steam? NO DISTINCTION? Of course, humans have a special responsibility to be concerned about animal welfare (think SPCA), and Christians have a specific command to care for the creation. But that is not what we are witnessing here. These examples, and countless others like them, are signs of a growing movement—one that seeks to blur and eventually erase the distinction between animals and people. Animal-rights advocates call such distinctions speciesism, which Princeton professor Peter Singer, author of the animal-rights classic, Animal Liberation, defines as “a prejudice” that favors “the interests of members of one’s own species . . . against those members of other species.” Singer regards speciesism as being the moral equivalent of racism. For Singer and company, the offense is not only that we treat animals badly (as, sadly, we sometimes do); it is that we think people are human and thus, different from animals. (The reason Singer supports bestiality is because he believes there is no moral distinction between animals and humans). Beliefs like these arise from the philosophy of naturalism, the idea that nature is all there is. Humans are not considered unique and spiritual; they are just another part of material nature. But if humans are nothing more than the product of evolutionary forces, then they are no different than—certainly not superior to—pigs, dogs—or rats, as Ingrid Newkirk of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) famously said. Passing laws giving animals the same rights as humans is entirely logical; after all, if humans are not innately superior to animals, why should we lord it over them? This is the real agenda behind initiatives to bestow constitutional rights on pigs (as happened in Florida five years ago) or legally redefine the relationship between people and animals. The next big test is in California, where activists are attempting to extend the “rights” granted to Florida sows to the rest of the barnyard—among other things, making it illegal to keep laying hens in cages. (This may sound humane—but the Animal Agriculture Alliance points out that countries that have banned cages for laying hens have experienced a drastic increase in the death rates of their birds. Cages keep them safe, protect them from the elements, and provide better access to food and water.) Of course, Christians are called to oppose cruelty to animals and ensure humane treatment, recognizing that animals—like all created things—are God’s servants for our good. But initiatives like the ones in California are not really about humane treatment; they are about conditioning us to accept animals as our moral equivalent. FROM EQUIVALENCY TO SUPERIORITY Even Christians seem to be falling for this. I am encountering more and more believers who not only treat their pets like children—up to and including mortgaging their homes to fund expensive surgeries for them—but who also think their beloved dogs and cats will be with them in Paradise, despite biblical teaching to the contrary. (All animals—including our beloved pets—are soulless creatures that will perish with the rest of the creation.) But once the majority of Americans accept the idea that animals and humans are morally equivalent, activists will press on to their ultimate—and dangerous—goals: eliminating animal agriculture (forcing us all to become vegetarians) and banning scientific research using animals, which would jeopardize the development of life-saving medicines. And, as Singer proposes in his utilitarian formula, activists would seek to allocate scarce resources fairly among animals and humans. (Fido’s operation will create greater happiness than keeping Uncle Bob on life support). The idea that these things could actually happen may seem preposterous, but remember, throughout our history, Americans have displayed a natural compulsion for great crusades. We have fought pitched battles over slavery, suffrage, and civil rights, which went against the grain of the times (and thank God Americans did). And today we see activists demanding, and frequently winning, special rights for homosexuals. So when politically correct gender and sexual orientation campaigns are completed, what’s next? Speciesism is the logical candidate. Most “rights” campaigns take decades, even centuries. But today, with instant communication and pervasive media, public and political opinion can be swung quickly. At the current pace we will see the animal-rights campaign succeeding in less than a decade. This is why we must understand the issue and learn how to defend the uniqueness of God-given human life. We should resist when anyone suggests—like that Australian zoo—that there is no real difference between humans and animals. And we should ensure that our neighbors understand the radical worldview that props up this cause. It is one that challenges Christianity’s most fundamental doctrines. Yes, we have a duty to care for the creation that involves both the privilege of using it and the duty of protecting it, as the Scriptures command. But having compassion for animals is completely different from assigning them rights—and we should never confuse the two.

02/14/08