Cheryl Abbate

In my recent paper, “The Epistemology of Meat-Eating,” I advanced an epistemological theory that explains why so many people continue to eat animals, even after they encounter anti-factory farming arguments. I began by noting that because meat-eating is seriously immoral, meat-eaters must either (1) believe that eating animals isn’t seriously immoral, or (2) believe that meat eating is seriously immoral (and thus they must be seriously immoral). I argued that standard meat-eaters don’t believe that eating animals is seriously immoral because either they don’t believe that meat-eating causes serious and systematic harm to farmed animals, or they believe that meat-eating causes serious and systematic harm to farmed animals, but they don’t believe that this harm is unnecessary. In a response titled “Are Meat-Eaters Epistemically Unlucky?”, Bob Fischer presents five objections to my epistemic theory. In this paper, I offer responses to each of Fischer’s thought-provoking objections and develop his insightful suggestion that, according to my epistemic theory, animal protectionists are victims of epistemic injustice.

The claim that epistemic oughts stem from the “role” of believer is widely discussed in the epistemological discourse. This claim seems to stem from the common view that, in some sense, epistemic norms derive from what it is to be a believer. Against this view, I argue that there is no such thing as a “role” of believer. But there is a role of knower, and this is the role to which some epistemic norms—epistemic role oughts—are attached. Once we conceive of epistemic role oughts as attaching to the role of knower (and not the “role” of believer) we can better understand the nature of epistemic obligation and doxastic control. In advancing a new epistemic role ought approach that recognizes knowers as the subjects of epistemic role oughts, I explain why many epistemic oughts—epistemic role oughts—have normative force and presuppose voluntary control.

While theories of animal rights maintain that nonhuman animals possess prima facie rights, such as the right to life, the dominant philosophies of animal rights permit the killing of nonhuman animals for reasons of self-defense. I argue that the animal rights discourse on defensive killing is problematic because it seems to entail that any nonhuman animal who poses a threat to human beings can be justifiably harmed without question. To avoid this human-privileged conclusion, I argue that the animal rights position needs to both (1) deploy a new criterion of liability to defensive harm, and (2) seriously consider whether human beings themselves are liable to defensive harm in human-animal conflicts. By shifting the focus to whether humans are liable to defensive harm, we will find that in many situations of human-animal conflict, human beings are actually the ones liable to be harmed because they are often culpable or, to some degree, morally responsible for posing an unjust threat to nonhuman animals.

In his recent work, David DeGrazia (2020) explores the possibility of insect sentience, focusing on bees as a case study. He advances a novel evolutionary approach, arguing that, from an evolutionary perspective, it’s more likely that bees are sentient than insentient., insofar as bees (allegedly) would have a selective advantage if they are motivated—in the form of feeling—to achieve their aims. His argument assumes two questionable claims: (1) if X is a selective advantage for an organism, then the organism likely has X, and (2) conscious creatures would have a selective advantage if they are sentient. I challenge both claims, and consequently call into question DeGrazia’s claim that we have an evolutionary-based reason to attribute sentience to bees (and other insects).

Animal welfare theorists tend to assume that most animals in captivity—especially those living in our homes and in sanctuaries—can, with sufficient care and environmental enrichment, live genuinely good lives. This misguided belief stems from the view that animal well-being should be assessed only in terms of the felt experiences of animals. Against this view, I argue that in assessing how well an animal’s life is going, we ought to consider two distinct kinds of welfare: experiential welfare and subject welfare. Once we take seriously the notion of subject welfare, which pertains to the non-sentient nature of animals, we will be forced to accept the unfortunate reality that most, if not all, animals in confinement—including those living in our homes and in sanctuaries—fare quite poorly and live lives that should be characterized as having overall ill-being.

A growing number of animal ethicists defend new omnivorism--the view that it's permissible, if not obligatory, to consume certain kinds of animal flesh and products. This book puts defenders of new omnivorism and advocates of strict veganism into conversation with one another to further debates in food ethics in novel and meaningful ways. The book includes six chapters that defend distinct versions of new omnivorism and six critical responses from scholars who are sympathetic to strict veganism. The contributors debate whether it's ethically permissible to eat the following: "freegan" meat, roadkill, cultured meat, genetically disenhanced animals, possibly insentient animals such as insects, and fish. The volume concludes with two chapters that examine strict vegan and new omnivore policy. Presenting readers with clear defenses and criticisms of the various dietary proposals, this book draws attention to the most important ethical challenges facing traditional animal agriculture and alternative systems of food production. New Omnivorism and Strict Veganism will appeal to scholars and students interested in food ethics, animal ethics, and agricultural ethics.

Animal welfare theorists tend to assume that most animals in captivity—especially those living in our homes and in sanctuaries—can, with sufficient care and environmental enrichment, live genuinely good lives. This misguided belief stems from the view that animal well-being should be assessed only in terms of the felt experiences of animals. Against this view, I argue that in assessing how well an animal’s life is going, we ought to consider two distinct kinds of welfare: experiential welfare and subject welfare. Once we take seriously the notion of subject welfare, which pertains to the non-sentient nature of animals, we will be forced to accept the unfortunate reality that most, if not all, animals in confinement—including those living in our homes and in sanctuaries—fare quite poorly and live lives that should be characterized as having overall ill-being.

Those who claim to be committed to the moral equality of animals don’t always act as if they think all animals are equal. For instance, many animal liberationists spend hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars each year on food, toys, and medical care for their companion animals. Surely, more animals would be helped if the money spent on companion animals were donated to farmed animal protection organizations. Moreover, many animal liberationists feed their companion animals the flesh of farmed animals, and some let their cats roam outdoors, foreseeing that they will kill wildlife. Maybe these companion-animal loving animal liberationists are moral hypocrites. Or maybe their behavior is justified. I defend the latter claim. By developing an ethic that emphasizes the moral significance of life-meaning and recognizes the important role that companion animals play in giving meaning to human lives, I argue that there are stringent side-constraints that apply to companion animals, but not to other animals. Consequently, it isn’t hypocritical to prioritize companion animals over other animals. We can have (and value) our carnivorous companions and be animal liberationists too.

An adequate theory of rights ought to forbid the harming of animals to promote trivial interests of humans, as is often done in the animal-user industries. But what should the rights view say about situations in which harming some animals is necessary to prevent intolerable injustices to other animals? I develop an account of respectful treatment on which, under certain conditions, it’s justified to intentionally harm some individuals to prevent serious harm to others. This can be compatible with recognizing the inherent value of the ones who are harmed. My theory has important implications for contemporary moral issues in nonhuman animal ethics, such as the development of cultured meat and animal research.

While Aristotle’s proposition that "Man is by nature a political animal" is often assumed to entail that, according to Aristotle, nonhuman animals are not political, some Aristotelian scholars suggest that Aristotle is only committed to the claim that man is more of a political animal than any other nonhuman animal. I argue that even this thesis is problematic, as contemporary research in cognitive ethology reveals that many social nonhuman mammals are, in fact, political in the Aristotelian sense, as they possess a sense of both general and special justice. Keeping this in mind, I conclude that some nonhuman animal communities very well might be identified as highly political communities, leading us to question whether it is really the case that humans are more political than socially complex, group-living nonhuman animals.