Isn't it amusing to see people who happily devour bacon, steak, and chicken wings suddenly get on their high horse when the topic of dog meat comes up? The indignation is almost palpable.
“How could anyone eat a dog?” they ask, horrified, as they reach for another slice of pepperoni pizza.
It’s a reaction that’s understandable—dogs are our loyal companions, our furry best friends. But let’s take a step back and look at the bigger picture.
If you’re going to argue against eating dogs, shouldn’t that same logic apply to all animals?
Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not suggesting we start putting Whitey, Blackie or Brownie on the menu.
But here’s the thing: meat is meat.
If you’re morally opposed to eating dogs because they’re intelligent, loyal, or simply because you can’t imagine doing so, then shouldn’t that same consideration be extended to pigs, cows, and chickens? After all, pigs are known for their intelligence, cows form close bonds with their herd, and chickens have been shown to have distinct personalities. Yet these animals often end up on our plates without a second thought.
The inconsistency in our attitudes toward different animals reminds me of what the philosopher Immanuel Kant once said: “We can judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals.” But how do we reconcile this when our treatment varies so widely depending on the species?
Kant’s idea suggests that our ethical considerations should be uniform, yet our practices often reflect a deep-seated inconsistency. We’ve created a moral hierarchy that isn’t based on the animals’ capacity to feel pain or form bonds but rather on our own cultural and emotional biases.
This ISN'T a push for veganism, by the way. I’m not here to convert anyone to a plant-based lifestyle, though I do think the ethical questions surrounding meat consumption deserve more thought.
My point is about consistency. If you’re going to take a moral stand against the consumption of one type of animal, then logically, that stance should extend to all animals. Otherwise, your argument risks being reduced to “I don’t eat that because it’s cute,” which, while valid for personal choices, doesn’t hold up well as an ethical argument.
Peter Singer, in his seminal work Animal Liberation, argues that the principle of equal consideration of interests should extend to all sentient beings. This means that if an animal can suffer, its suffering should be given equal weight to that of a human being’s suffering. If we take Singer’s principle seriously, it becomes clear that our moral outrage over eating dogs while casually consuming other animals is not just inconsistent—it’s ethically indefensible.
The hypocrisy lies in the fact that many of us—myself included, as an animal advocate—often draw arbitrary lines between which animals are okay to eat and which are not. We might feel deep affection for our pets and view them as family members, but we don’t extend the same compassion to farm animals, even though they are capable of similar emotional bonds and suffering. This has always been my guilt as well, my hypocrisy and my dillemma.
Michel de Montaigne said, “When I play with my cat, who knows if I am not a pastime to her more than she is to me?” Montaigne’s observation highlights the mutual relationship we share with animals—a relationship often overlooked when we categorize some as pets and others as food. The line between these categories is not as clear as we might like to believe, and it certainly doesn’t justify selective moral outrage.
If you truly believe that eating dog meat is wrong, then it’s worth questioning why you think it’s okay to eat other animals. Is it simply because that’s the norm in your culture? Is it because you’ve never formed an emotional bond with a cow or a pig? Or is it because the idea of eating certain animals makes you uncomfortable, while eating others doesn’t?
If we want to have a meaningful conversation about the ethics of eating animals, it’s important to base that discussion on consistent principles rather than selective outrage. We need to recognize that our dietary choices are often shaped by cultural norms and personal preferences, not by some inherent moral hierarchy among animals. And if we’re going to impose our beliefs on others, whether it’s condemning the consumption of dog meat or advocating for animal rights, we should at least make sure our arguments are rooted in logic and fairness.
So, the next time you feel the urge to judge someone for their dietary choices, take a moment to reflect on your own. As Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.” If we’re going to talk about animal rights and the ethics of meat consumption, let’s do it with a little more consistency, a lot less hypocrisy, and a deep awareness of the freedom—and responsibility—that comes with making our choices.
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