The Rise of Critical Animal Studies: From the Margins to the Centre
(London and New York: Routledge, 2014) is an important new collection
featuring critical animal studies scholars who are working within the
discipline of Sociology. In this interview, Dinesh Wadiwel asks editors
Nik Taylor and Richard Twine to talk more about the volume and
contribution it makes – August 2014.
Dinesh Wadiwel (DW): I would like to start with a more personal question about the relationship of
this important new book to your own research trajectories. As sociologists, what has drawn you to
Critical Animal Studies (CAS)?
Nik Taylor (NT): I have always had an interest in how humans treat animals and linked to that an
interest in understanding how power, oppression and ideology legitimate violence toward
disenfranchised others. While I think my discipline of Sociology is a strong one for examining these
issues, it hasn’t always accepted the study of nonhuman animals. In fact, I’d say there were (and
possibly still are) many in Sociology specifically, and the Social Sciences generally, who still see it as
a marginal topic. The fact that CAS scholars prioritise and centralise power and oppression and do so
in investigating human relations with animals is what most appeals to me about it. Added to this, I
think – as we argued in the introduction to the book – that CAS owes an intellectual debt to
ecofeminism as well as other critical fields like Marxism and anarchism. I locate myself intellectually
somewhere between ecofeminism and Marxism so CAS is a natural home for me in many ways.
Within CAS, the problematising of capitalist asymmetrical relations of power and refusal to accept or
condone the way we treat animals in our cultures is powerful and personally very appealing. I don’t
think it’s possible to think about human relations with nonhuman animals without acknowledging that
we treat them dreadfully and that we do so within a hegemonic framework which entirely normalises
this. CAS’s location among, and reliance upon, other theories like ecofeminism which highlight the
intersectionality of oppressions and their systemic nature speaks very loudly to me.
Richard Twine (RT): I was drawn to CAS as an intersectional space that traverses academia and
social movements for provoking, contesting and transforming the routinised status quo of animal use.
As we make clear in the book CAS existed in various senses prior to its explicit naming. My personal
path to CAS was via the 1990s writings of intersectional ecofeminists so I was, firstly, an ecofeminist,
and sociologist in training during that time and then, at the start of this century, as I moved into
academic jobs, came to inhabit the space of CAS with that biography. I know a lot of CAS people
foreground anarchist philosophy, and that is important, but it has not been personally important to my
trajectory. I am still very much writing in those other spaces like ecofeminism. I think it’s important that
ecofeminism continues to grow and outlives the largely unfair reception it received from academic
feminism in the 1980s and 1990s.
Sociology is a very special discipline for academia given its recursivity with social movements. It is not
surprising that within CAS Sociology has an important and wide reaching role (I write more on this in
my Introduction to my first book, Animals as Biotechnology). Sociology, by keeping open a pathway
from social movements into academia, and hopefully policy is important for societal reflexivity, for the
continued questioning of normative practice. CAS inflects Sociology and other disciplines with the
necessary urgency and approaches to question the status quo of human/animal relations and their
intersection with a myriad of social problems.
DW: As a tendency within Animal Studies, CAS is now at least a decade old. From your perspective,
how has CAS developed over this period, and how might The Rise of Critical Animal Studies
contribute further to its development?
RT: I think it has developed impressively in the sense of infrastructure, especially conferences. It has
probably had less success so far in terms of University teaching and recognition within the academy:
which is not surprising since it clashes head on with the hegemonic humanism of the academy. That
resistance needs to crumble fast and I think we still need incredible disciplinary re-organisation of the
academy that pretentious and often meaningless nods to interdisciplinarity do not even get close to. I
hope Rise of makes a contribution. I think the way we have set the book out speaks to important
areas that have been stressed by the group of scholars that explicitly coined the term. Moreover
sections such as methodology are areas we thought needed more reflection upon within CAS. I think
going with a well-known publisher is a double edged sword, on the one hand it is prestigious and
raises the profile of CAS; but, on the other hand, we have a volume that is regrettably more expensive
than we are comfortable with. I hope it finds its way to readers not yet familiar with CAS.
NT: That’s an interesting question as it pre-supposes a distinct cleavage between AS and CAS and I
think it’s far muddier than that. Sure, we can point to areas of difference (e.g. CAS’s clear anti
capitalist stance, or some of the AS scholars unwillingness to address activism) but I think there’s
actually a lot of people who work – with a greater or lesser degree of comfort – across both sides. In
which case CAS is much older. I’d also argue that much ecofeminist work pre-figured CAS and in fact
can be seen as CAS in orientation itself. What I think has happened in the last ten years with the field
is that it has started to coalesce – many of these divergent strands have come together and it feels
more coherent as an intellectual and political movement.
Given the rampant neo-liberal age we live in, and the seemingly endless swing back to the political
right that is occurring in much of the western world, I think CAS’s political stance is more valuable
than ever, and I think the coalescing of the field I referred to above gives scholars and activists a safe
place to consider their views and to disseminate them. While that safety might not be a priority for all
within the field, having seen (and having been on the end of, at times) brutal dismissal of those whose
animal related politics don’t fit the mainstream, at conferences and so on, I think this safe space is
terrifically important in terms of intellectual development. The fact that mainstream publishers like
Routledge are willing to publish volumes like this also speaks somewhat to an increasing acceptance
of the once perceived as radical ideas within CAS. Of course, I recognise the irony here – and it is in
fact this irony that sparked the first conversations Richard and I had about the book – that there is a
chance if CAS becomes too mainstreamed it loses the very thing that draws us to it and we value
about it. This did actually give us a lot to think about when we were deciding on which publisher to
approach for the book. And while I think mainstreaming is a real risk to CAS, and should be fought in
many ways, I also think its increasing acceptance is indicative of more and more voices wanting to
demand change for animals, and this can only be a good thing.
DW: Arguably much of the critical engagement on questions of our relationships with animals have
emerged from the disciplines of philosophy and ethics. What does sociology as a discipline have to
offer in understanding and challenging human domination of other animals?
RT: I think these disciplines need each other. Philosophy and the specialism of ethics have developed
not as empirical disciplines. This is unfortunate because it often leaves the analysis of ethics
acontextual and the broader discipline of Philosophy as lacking in a theory of social change.
Sociological research can provide this. The focus on ethics also tends to be translated
individualistically which is unhelpful because I don’t actually think that the crisis in human/animal
relations is the result of faulty individual ethical frameworks as such but of shared meanings, norms
and practices all infused with relations of power. So, simply put, Sociology offers different valuable
framings. I would say also that no discipline is monolithic and none should necessarily dominate
within CAS.
NT: I’d go back to some of my first answer for this. To me, the beauty of sociology is, and always has
been, its fascination with power. While other disciplines engage with power as a concept, of course, I
think it permeates all of sociology from the ground up. There is no real sociology of power because
there doesn’t need to be – analysing the way power works in any situation/topic is endemic to
sociology. I also think there’s an open mindedness among many (not all!) sociologists that comes
from a fundamental curiosity about the world in which we live. As soon as you point out that animals
are a part of social life and social systems, even the most animal-disinterested sociologist will still talk
about animals because this curiosity about social life is what drew them to sociology in the first place,
and because it’s easy to see the workings of power in human relations with nonhuman others.
On a more personal note, I think the strong links between sociology and feminism are important in
understanding our relations with animals too. While feminist perspectives are relevant to many
disciplines, an analysis of gender is seen as one of the holy trinity of analytical concepts (gender,
class, ethnicity) for sociologists, so intersectional perspectives in CAS fit well with this too.
DW: Nik, I want to pick up this question of the relationship of CAS to feminism, particularly
ecofeminism. Earlier in this interview you raised the link between CAS and ecofeminism, and I am
aware that lots of CAS scholars are deeply influenced by ecofeminist approaches (you and Richard
have both described yourself as sharing this intellectual legacy). I am curious: do you think CAS is
offering a new space for a kind of intersectional ecofeminism?
NT: That's certainly an intriguing possibility and it would be great if that were the case. As I think I
have stressed throughout the interview – and the book itself has a section related to this – I think we
need to put some work into our methods: how do we do research that is ecofeminist and
intersectional at the same time? This is both a methodological and theoretical issue though – how,
and when do we acknowledge that what we are doing is intersectionality in practice and is it always
ecofeminist? I don't think it is necessarily ecofeminist in many instances and perhaps CAS is a space
where we can outline our reasons why it must be. The danger, to my mind, is that intersectional
theories grew from post-modernism and its stress on difference and fragmentation and while there are
some strands of ecofeminism that mirror this, I think it's unacceptable for CAS scholars. This is
because these kind of theories, that stress individual difference, or identity, or fragmentation, are
incapable of grappling with structurally embedded inequality. And for animals (as well as other
oppressed/disenfranchised groups) it is the structurally embedded ideologies that lead to
institutionally approved abuses that are precisely the problem. It is profoundly important, then, that we
address precisely how structural oppressions intersect with each other to produce normative
experiences and frameworks that allow and encourage animal oppression. While I think the majority
of CAS scholars are mindful of this, one of our challenges will be to think through, explicitly, how
ecofeminism and intersectional theories can contribute to this without their tensions pulling them away
from each other.
DW: The Rise of Critical Animal Studies includes a refreshing discussion of a range of methodological
practices and approaches that are highly relevant to CAS, including, for example, reflexivity,
ethnography and auto-ethnography, relationality and ethno-mimesis. Many of these described
approaches are innovative adaptions of existing methods within sociology. I am curious: are we
witnessing CAS scholars developing new methods that might in turn shape sociology as a discipline?
RT: I think so yes. Since my PhD work in the late 1990s I have understood the emergence of the
‘animal’ in Sociology in a similar manner to the emergence (or the remembering) of the body, of
gender, affect, the private sphere and so on. Thus I have understood Sociology historically as working
from an ontology that is inflected with dualism and advances a rather partial account of the ‘human’.
Bringing these areas back in (in my PhD I called these the ‘new’ sociologies) cannot help but
destabilise the centre and change Sociology, as well as other disciplines. It is not surprising that
ontological shifts would also have methodological impacts. I think the book contains some very
important methodological discussion that asks questions of CAS, social science and the role of the
academic. These ‘new’ sociologies all redefine the social and what CAS does is question human
exceptionalism. For example, as I asked in Animals as Biotechnology: when we do the ‘sociology of
the body’ are we seriously narrowing that down to the body of humans? For this has been the
assumption. Obviously I think that is a very limited and ideological narrowing. Animals are everywhere
in society, so they should be everywhere in Sociology.
NT: Oh I do hope so. As a self-confessed methods nerd, I really hope this happens – and in fact not
just at the level of methods but across broad parameters epistemologically speaking. I think the
inclusion of animals in our intellectual and epistemological frameworks has profound consequences.
The anthropocentric nature of our relations with other animals, the ‘natural’ world and to a degree
each other, becomes hideously clear and with that clarity comes the realisation that it simply isn’t a
sustainable paradigm. Once I started to think like this the damage such a view does became
irrefutable and I started to see its evidence all around us. Once you fully accept this, there’s no going
back – you can’t un-know it and so you have to something about it.
In terms of methods, I think CAS concerns here – as represented throughout this current collection –
add to the great body of work from various places such as feminism and post-colonial studies, which
highlight the damage positivism has done. And again, once you start to realise this, it’s very hard to
go back. I am compelled to think about how we might do things differently precisely because I am
aware of just how limiting current orthodoxies are. In terms of the material lives of animals, so much of
the damage and abuse we do to them is justified through a reliance on a positivist framework – so
much so that I don’t actually think we have the language to ‘think differently’ about them and we
sorely need it. All of the contributors to the section on methods reflect this view to a degree. Lorde’s
wonderful point that ‘The Master's Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master's House’ always spring to
mind whenever I discuss methodological approaches to studying human-nonhuman animal relations:
we can’t expect real systemic change if we keep using the tools that are a legacy of that system and
that have been instructive in maintaining it for so long. I’m also motivated to keep thinking and writing
about this topic from a purely practical point of view: the work of ethologists and biologists who are
now more free to break disciplinary conventions and study topics such as animal empathy and
emotions make it so very clear that until now we have missed important and poignant parts of ‘nature’
and nonhuman animal lives. Our methodological, positivist blinkers are to blame for much of this in
my opinion. Just imagine what we might know about other animals if the last 300 years or so of
investigations had not been shackled by post-enlightenment belief systems. Let’s not let that happen
for the next 300 years.
DW: Arguably CAS comes with its own theory of knowledge, and its own distinct and politicised
approach to questions of method. For example, many CAS scholars would be critical, or reject
outright, empirical evidence gained through animal testing, particularly where this use of animals
constitutes suffering or death. Does the CAS approach imply its own epistemology (or
epistemologies)?
RT: I think this question is to an extent addressed in the chapter by Lynda Birke. Ultimately it comes
down to whether CAS can accept some instances of ‘working with’ animals that is progressive and
liberatory for animals and non-invasive. Examples could be naturalistic observation or indeed a recent
TV documentary showed an elaborate study monitoring the movement and behaviour of domesticated
cats. This seemed useful for understanding their impact upon other animals in the neighbourhood and
did not have any impacts on the cats themselves. I think also that CAS can and does ask deeper
questions about the anthropocentrism of ‘knowledge’ and the partiality of human perspective.
NT: To a degree I think it does. I certainly think it should (and does) reject any research that comes
from animal oppression but this doesn’t necessarily mean it has its own epistemology …. Yet. I add
the yet as I think that’s perhaps because the field is young, and I think this may develop over time. Of
course, one of the difficulties with this will be – as the book clearly showcases – the multi-disciplinary
nature of CAS scholarship; it’s hard to envisage a one size fits all epistemology. That said, I still think
we need to keep asking these questions as the spirit of open minded debate is one way in which we
can hopefully ‘see’ things differently and contribute to making a material and political difference for
nonhuman animals – which is one of the drivers for this book too.
DW: One of the achievements of the collection is in a sustained critique of capitalism. This includes
essays that I believe substantially and positively build upon classic work in animals studies – such as
from Ted Benton and Barbara Noske – which use Marxist theory to understand the situation of
animals. Can you say more on the usefulness of Marx for a sociological understanding of animals
within the context of capitalism?
NT: I think Marxism is a useful starting point for CAS. The implicit humanism – that Benton has written
so eloquently on – makes a wholesale adoption of Marx difficult for CAS but I think it’s too valuable to
abandon altogether and I think the two chapters (Clark and Kowalczyk) that address Marx directly in
this volume demonstrate that so very well. Concepts of power and ideology are fundamental to
understanding how and why we treat nonhuman animals the way we do, and here Marxism is
particularly strong. Beyond that, though, I think the anti-capitalist stance taken by CAS scholars
(whether from Marx directly, or other sources) is a key one given the dependence we have on animals
under capitalism. It’s too simplistic to say that without capitalism there would be no animal abuse, but
I do think we can point out that without capitalism’s endless drive for profit the systematised and
institutionalised abuses of animals might be non-existent and might well be (at least) statistically less
dumbfounding. Beyond this material concern though, I think we can also start to use concepts like
hegemony and ideology to understand how it is that such large scale institutionally justified abuses of
animals occur. Again, Marxism lays the foundations for us here and gives us something to work with
as we try to puzzle out how animal abuse is legitimated with a view to challenging it to prevent it.
RT: Yes I’m sure there remains much work to do here. Whilst I don’t think the exploitation of other
animals is reducible to ‘capitalism’ neither do I think it is possible to challenge it without also
contesting capitalism. If we keep in mind the very significant scale of the animal-industrial complex
and the way it successfully reaches into everyday life we should begin to ask questions about the
benefit to capitalism of all the captured ‘labour’ of nonhuman animals, and begin to better understand
its intersection with the broader economy. Capitalism would not wither away without it but what would
or could societies and economies look like without it? I think CAS can ultimately re-frame the critique
of capitalism in much the same way as feminist critiques of Marxism have. To date much work in this
vein, including two of the chapters in the specific section of the book (by Jon Clark and Agnieszka
Kowalczyk), probe notions of agency, labour and resistance. Your question is also interesting
because for some writers the Critical in CAS comes from ‘critical theory’ which of course is partly a
descendent of Marxist thought. We could probably do more work with the notion of commodity
fetishism and consumption that has affinities with Carol J Adams’ work on the absent referent. I have
wondered before if the consumption of animals might constitute some sort of paradigmatic case of
commodity fetishism. We learn early on to deny the relations of ‘meat’ and ‘dairy’, perhaps this helps
us do the same for most acts of consumption. In my work with the ‘animal-industrial complex’ concept
I return to what is familiar ‘critical theory’ sort of thinking i.e. what they would have framed as trying to
understand the relationship between the ‘economic’ and the ‘psychological’. I frame it somewhat
differently – in terms of practices, meanings and relations – but there is a shared desire to understand
those interweavings of the material and symbolic that keep certain power relations in place.
DW: Despite the ample evidence that capitalism has made life a misery for most humans and many
non humans across the globe, we are arguably at a low point in terms of organised resistance to
capitalism. In many countries, large scale left political movements have dissipated or have been
coopted; neoliberalism has successively dismantled trade unions, and destroyed the core aspirations
created by these movements (such as a shorter working day); and there appears to be an intellectual
vacuum in relation to alternatives to the current system. Further to this, the left tradition has by and
large failed to take seriously the domination of animals as a form of oppression. Does CAS offer some
new tools for thinking about resistance to capitalism?
RT: I think it probably offers similar tools to that of ecofeminism namely that their shared commitment
to an intersectional understanding of power means that the only political struggle in town ought to be
coalitionary. Unfortunately effective intersectional coalitions are rare and very difficult to get off the
ground. Each struggle tends to become colonised by other relations of power. We can see this in
patriarchal socialism, humanist feminism, or sexist and classist veganism. As far as the ‘left’ goes it is
as guilty as any other social movement for its narrow thinking. You can probably understand better
now my initial attraction to ecofeminism, because there is coalition there right in the term, and the
same applies to eco-socialism. I think we need activism that has intersectional reflexivity from the
outset. That project is as difficult as it is urgent, but I struggle to see an alternative.
NT: The intersectional approach of CAS is one of its key strengths, and I think this is highlighted
throughout the current collection by all the contributors, many of whom are activist-scholars. There is
a danger here though that such approaches are used anthropocentrically. For example, in the work I
do on slaughterhouses I commonly hear that it’s a worthwhile area of study because of the damage it
does to human psyches. While that’s true it’s important we see the damage done to humans and
animals as intersecting – not as one more important than the other. CAS scholars make this
abundantly clear in the various works that seek to use, and extend, intersectional frameworks as
analytical tools. I think this is an important contribution to ideas about resistance to capitalism – the
stress on links between oppression of Others whether they be human or nonhuman (including ‘nature’
itself) has led to some great work in CAS in terms of how we might re-conceive resistance and
activism.
DW: The Rise of Critical Animal Studies includes a substantial discussion of veganism as a practice
and form of resistance to human domination of animals. This analysis taps into a rich tradition within
sociology of seeking to understand the relationship between personal practices and social structure.
In your view, how is the practice of veganism evolving as a form of social resistance?
NT: This is a tricky one as I think in some circles it isn’t – and there’s a by now well-recognised
problem with lifestyle politics in that they can detract from other organised forms of demands for
change. That said, within CAS veganism clearly moves beyond lifestyle politics (as it does in other
places) to become a clear clarion call for the rejection of normative abuses of nonhuman animals.
Precisely because veganism in the CAS context is politicised it is part and parcel of the social
resistance that weaves throughout CAS approaches to nonhuman lives, liberation and well-being.
Cole’s chapter in the collection clearly shows that this has always been the case for many vegans:
few see it as a practice that exists in isolation from wholesale analyses of institutional and systemic
oppression of nonhuman animals, as well as the environment and other important issues. The CAS
aim to centralise political veganism (for want of a better term) is one that clearly seeks to extend the
impact of it and to see it linked to exploitation of the ‘natural’ world more generally.
RT: In some of my other work not covered in this book I have been doing close research on
veganism. For example in 2013 I interviewed 40 vegans about their own personal narratives of
transition. I think we in the West are living through the normalisation of veganism. It’s slow but it’s
identifiable, and of course it is being normalised in a particular way, that is, largely through the preexisting mechanisms of capitalism. I think with a nod to the previous question it’s currently very
important for veganism to proceed intersectionally. This means it needs to contest its own racism,
sexism and classism. It needs to resist the various modes of co-option at play and it needs to hold
onto its poignancy and its vision. This includes an awareness that as one proceeds through transition
what at one point seemed difficult or even unobtainable comes rather to be seen as minimal, just a
starting point politically. I think discussion of veganism is quite rich at the moment and we try to reflect
that in the book. I think outside the book I would highlight work by people such as Liz Cherry and
James Stanescu.
DW: Richard, I want to push you a little on the future of veganism as a strategy. As you note, the cooption of veganism by capitalism is a potential threat to its future as a form of resistance, particularly if
its ‘normalisation’ means that it is no longer capable of marking itself out as a form of resistance. I
mean, if we start seeing ‘Vegan Happy Meals’ in fast food chains, served alongside meat to cater for
vegan consumers, then we know this strategy has reached its end, right?
RT: Yes you're right to probe this question further, it's an important one. On the one hand,
'normalisation' is essential for social change, but the crux of the matter is 'how'? The type of scenario
you outline above is predictable, and we only need to look at the emergence of vegan food labeling in
mainstream UK supermarkets to see a variation of this happening. In a shallow but real and practical
sense that is a 'great thing', it's enabling for the practice of the food aspects of veganism. At the same
time it's completely within the frame of consumer capitalism which is typically open to the capital
potential of 'alternative markets'. The mainstreaming of veganism in such spaces also tends to price
out smaller wholly vegan businesses who cannot afford to sell their produce at lower prices. I guess
there are ideal and non-ideal modes of change and we're witnessing the latter. In theorising veganism
as a form of resistance then it is clear to me that we do more work on the 'how' of ideal vegan
normalisation. What forms of vegan practice maintain its radical edge? An intersectional frame ought
to provide the signposts here. By intersecting veganism with other struggles we can retain its political
edge and contest its co-option. One example of this would be to intersect veganism with forms of food
decommodification, since I believe that the utopian aim of food politics generally should be to remove
food from the market because I don't believe that one's health should be according to one's arbitrary
born-into class position. So this begs the question over what sort of social spaces might constitute
moments of food decommodification. Answers to this question include the democratisation of growing,
local scale fruit and vegetable production, and the issue of food waste, or even informal food sharing
events such as potlucks. These potentially provide opportunities for the creative performance of
veganism in meaningful and effective ways, and these of course are just a small number of examples.
They depend upon political organisation, networking and careful reflexivity it goes without saying.
Finally, I would add that veganism is itself insufficient. This should be obvious really since to think
otherwise would be to somehow switch off our ethical reflexivity to the circumstances of a whole array
of food and clothing production which whilst it may not involve the direct use of animals may either
indirectly harm animals or utterly fail a broader intersectional politics.
DW: CAS scholars frequently are supportive of radical means, such as direct action, to challenge
human domination of animals. These tactics have increasingly been criminalised by the State, often
as a result of intense lobbying by animal exploiting industries. Arguably, as we see industrialised
containment, breeding, slaughter and experimentation continue to expand, we are likely to see this
situation involving the criminalisation of protest get worse. What challenges does this pose for CAS
scholars in relation to their own work?
NT: I know many CAS scholars face practical difficulties within academic settings – limited job
opportunities; problems getting tenure and promotion which is linked to limited grant and publication
opportunities, as well as carefully made decisions not to seek money and/or publish at times. It’s
difficult to manage the contradictions inherent in working within mainstream academia and the politics
of CAS and, for me, it leads to a lot of soul searching and the occasional compromise. Beyond that, of
course, there are larger considerations than life within the academy – how to reach others with your
message (are expensive book collections useful for example?); how to write on topics that may lead
to criminalisation and in rarer instances, prosecution; how much to divulge about your personal
activism and so on. Back to the academy there are also concerns around teaching – just how far
should we push our beliefs onto our students? How do we present some of the terribly disturbing
issues to students in such a way that we don’t damage or alienate them? To some degree these are
decisions individuals have to make for themselves but I think a useful future project for CAS would be
to get students, activists, and scholars (not suggesting these are discrete categories!) together to
discuss these challenges.
RT: I think it poses considerable challenges. I think it is always a challenge for social scientists and
others to research those in positions of power because they tend to operate secretly and outside any
naïve sense of democratic accountability. I think Jess Gröling’s chapter is very valuable to thinking
through this question. If, as I have previously argued, the concept of the animal-industrial complex
should be a central focus of attention for CAS scholars, then it seems that if we are to grasp all its
dimensions there has to be some degree of covert research. I think the recourse to legal
protectionism by the animal industries will eventually unravel as their environmental consequences
come into sharper more proximal focus. We see this legal protectionism in other areas too, in
attempts to halt the opposition to fracking, in attempts to oppose the arms trade. It says something
about a society when its most caring and forward thinking citizens are reduced to criminals.
DW: It is sometimes difficult to remain optimistic about the realistic prospect of dismantling the
‘animal-industrial complex.’ Do you remain optimistic about CAS as a project?
RT: I think it’s important for me personally to be honest and say no I am not optimistic. This is partly
informed by my reading of climate science and our increasingly slim chances of avoiding serious
climate change of which human/animal relations figure as both partly cause and effect. However this
lack of optimism doesn’t have to engender political paralysis. It doesn’t in me. I just think that
personally for me to project a sense of false optimism would not really equate with what I observe
around me. Maybe CAS is destined to be an epitaph, I am not presently optimistic about the
challenges of the Century ahead. There are too many vested interests in retaining the status quo
even though that status quo is probably ultimately suicidal.
CAS is a small bridge between activists and academics mostly existing in largely privileged locations.
As much as it is an important moment in the influence of one social movement upon the academy it is
unlikely in and of itself to precipitate social change. This is not to negate its contribution or to see it as
not worthwhile. However I personally think that if we see a dismantling, or moves toward it, it will
come from policies related to resource pressures and climate change. I would like to see it come from
a revolutionary change in the way humans see themselves and their relations with other animals but it
is more likely to emerge, if it does, at least initially I think, out of a particular crisis situation.
NT: For the most part, yes, I am optimistic. I think CAS has a lot to offer and I think times are very
slowly changing in terms of people’s attitudes to nonhuman animals. And while the changes aren’t
nearly deep enough, or quick enough, they are broad and that gives us something to work with. While
it Is only a starting point I think there is increased acceptance of many of the arguments of most CAS
scholars, often in a diluted form, such as general opposition to Ag-gag laws and the secrecy of animal
agriculture. This means there is at least a superficial acceptance of many of the ideas of CAS and this
can draw people in which is what I think we have already seen in some instances. The main thing I
think we need to guard against is political in-fighting. I don’t think we should avoid points of difference
as they are often important and worthy of discussion, but I do see the beginnings of internal
cleavages which are highly problematic and I think we need to guard against going down a road
where we start to think in terms of one ‘groups’ moral superiority over the other, or where we start to
label some as ‘in’ and some as ‘out’ – as much as we can while staying true to the beliefs that
underpin CAS. I actually think this is the biggest threat to the field and it would be a shame if we let
individual hubris ruin a potentially very strong movement for change.