Why do so few Christians talk about animals—and what might happen if we did? In this honest and thought-provoking interview, philosopher and theologian Simon Kittle reflects on his journey towards a deeper compassion for all creatures. Drawing on insights from his new book God and Non-Human Animals, Simon explores the blind spots in Christian thinking, the emotional cost of change, and why the Church still finds it hard to take animal suffering seriously. Challenging but full of grace, his words invite us to rethink what faithfulness really looks like in a world shared with fellow creatures.
Why did you write God and Non-Human Animals?
I became convinced that creatures such pigs and cows – creatures I used to eat -were capable of experiencing significant emotions, and that as such, causing them to suffer and die just so I could eat them was wrong. That conviction occurred independently of any of my theological thinking, but as a Christian philosopher, I was motivated to see what Christian theology had said, and could say, about both our treatment of other animals and the status of other animals more widely.
You argue that Christian theology has often overlooked non-human animals – why do you think this has happened?
Christianity inherited and developed the idea that humans alone are made in God’s image. That leads very naturally to the idea that there is a qualitative divide between humans and all other animals, which in turn leads the view that other animals are of marginal theological importance.
That is a fairly proximate cause of why Christian theology so often overlooks non-humans. An interesting question is why that theology came to be. Part of the reason, no doubt, is that we humans do indeed stand out among all animals. It’s only us humans, after all, who are capable of building the infrastructure that enables us to, for instance, read interviews on the internet (and the rest). From the earliest times, people have recognised and sought to explain human distinctiveness, one of those explanations being that only humans are made in God’s image.
But another part of the explanation is that, prior to any theologising, humans were already engaged in the project of using and exploiting animals for their own ends. So from the very beginnings of human theologising, there was already a motive to articulate and favour theologies that could serve as post-hoc justifications for the human maltreatment of animals.
Many Christians care about kindness and creation, yet still eat animals. What would you say to someone who struggles to reconcile their faith with concern for farmed animals?
If someone is indeed struggling to reconcile their faith and a concern for farmed animals, that might suggest they are already on the road to seeing non-human animals as being worthy of at least some moral consideration, so I’d perhaps ask them more about their thoughts on that.
My overwhelming experience talking to Christians about animals, though, is that very few struggle to reconcile their faith with eating animals. For the most part, those I’ve spoken to consider it straightforward that their faith has basically no implications for how they should treat animals. On more than one occasion, the response from believers to me saying I was writing a book about God and animals was laughter. People just don’t see animals as at all relevant to faith or theology.
You raise the issue of inconsistency—valuing cats and dogs while accepting factory farming of pigs and cows. Why do you think this contradiction persists, even among people of faith?
Probably for a range of reasons, but I suspect the primary reason has little to do with faith and more to do with the fact that eating is central to our identity because it is something most of us do two or three times a day. If someone comes along and suggests, or if you come across information that implies, that what you’re doing each mealtime is morally wrong, well, it’s likely you’ll become fairly defensive and push the issue away. Aside from the discomfort, any suggestion that we may need to significantly change out diet, lifestyle, habits, traditions, and more is also hugely overwhelming, precisely because eating is such a central human experience. It’s just far easier to do whatever it takes to avoid the issue.
Do you think that some people avoid the topic of eating animals because it could create guilt or discomfort?
Yes, and this is very understandable. Few people want to make others feel guilty, and fewer still want to feel guilty themselves. It’s easier and more conducive to maintaining a surface cordiality just to leave the whole topic alone. There is a real challenge here for those who have become convinced that non-human animals deserve more moral consideration than they are typically given how do we communicate that, without making people feel guilty, because that is certainly not helpful. Melanie Joy and others have done lots of great work around how to develop and maintain good communication between animal advocates and others.
What gives you hope that the Church can become more compassionate towards animals?
Well, I’ve encountered a range of things that are encouraging. I remember being greatly encouraged when I first discovered Sarx, back in 2017 I think it was. I have found the pioneering theological work of Andrew Linzey really helpful, but also Linzey’s work gives me hope because Linzey was a lone voice on the issue for many years, and so its an indication that new perspectives can be heard. More recently, I found Eric Daryl Meyer’s book Inner Animalities an incredibly powerful analysis of our situation.
At the same time, however, if I’m being honest, it would be a stretch to say such things give me any significant hope of a widespread shift in the Church to a more compassionate view of animals. When speaking to people about animal ethics, I’ve found Christians tend to be more resistant than non-Christians to the idea that we should treat animals well. And for every theologian advocating for kindness and peace towards animals, there are many theologians defending with vigor the idea that there is no moral problem with humans killing animals to satisfy the desires of their taste buds, despite it being clear that (for the vast majority of people) there is no need to eat animals to live a healthy life.
For me, the question of widespread or systematic change within the Church turns on whether Christian theology is essentially speciesist. That’s a controversial issue, though I think a half-decent case can be made for the idea. But even if theology is not essentially speciesist, the fact that a half-decent case can be made for the claim, together with the fact that traditional historical theology has been speciesist, suggests to me that we are a long way off any significant change. Of course, it is possible for small segments of the Church to adopt stances of kindness and compassion towards all non-humans, and that it something for which to be grateful. But hope need not come only from institutions. Individual Christians—and local communities—can still choose to act with courage and compassion, even in the absence of widespread change. And that, in itself, is a meaningful witness.
Simon Kittle is a philosopher and theologian based in Leeds, with particular interests in free will and the place of animals in Christian thought. His debut book, God and Non-Human Animals, is published by Cambridge University Press as part of the Problems of God series. You can find it on the Cambridge University Press website and other major booksellers.
