Animals in Deuteronomy. How does Moses, the narrator, see them? As Other than human, mostly. And mostly not in a good way.
But there’s the good news—it’s a way that helps us understand how Othering works. Not just how humans Other animals, but how we Other fellow humans.
Animals: Subdued or Terrifying?
On the synagogue reading cycle, we are about one-third of the way through Deuteronomy. That’s three parshiyot (sections), eleven chapters, and fifteen verses about animals. So, I’ll focus just on these verses. (I do know they don’t contain everything Deuteronomy has to say about animals.)
Ten of these verses speak of animals as property—either as food animals (7 verses) or working animals (3 verses). Of those, one can be read as respecting working animals: they must get a day off on Shabbat, just as you, your family, your servants, and your slaves do.
Five of the verses speak in terror of animals. Snakes and scorpions make the wilderness physically dangerous. But all animals are spiritually dangerous. They tempt us to imagine divinity in their image—which we must not do.
Three Ways to Other
I see in these verses three different modes of characterizing the Other.
One: They are beings without their own subjectivity. We move them around as it suits us. And, if possible, we gain some profit from them.
Two: They are under our authority. Of course they have less autonomy. But they deserve a bit of empathy and consideration.
Three: They are monsters. We don’t know how to coexist with them, and perhaps we don’t want to learn. Who knows what power those alien bodies hold? Or what their intentions towards us are? Contemplating those mysteries uncorks feelings we cannot contain. So, it’s better to draw sharp boundaries between us and them. And remind ourselves regularly to avoid these most dangerous of enemies.
Constructing the Other
Simone de Beauvoir writes about the psychology of Othering in her 1949 book The Second Sex. (For a bit of historical context, women in France gained the right to vote in 1945.) Beauvoir focuses on the way men construct women as Other. Men, she says, see themselves as the standard for what a human being should be. Of course, life is messier than any ideal standard. So, sometimes men see qualities in themselves that they don’t like. Then, they project these onto women—the different kind of human. The substandard kind.
Yes, in Freudian terms, it’s classic “reaction formation.” An exaggerated masculinity to push away dreaded vulnerabilities. A psychological foundation, perhaps, of the idea that women should live under male authority.
And a psychological process, perhaps, that informs more than one example of Othering.
Othering leads to exclusion—of people with important knowledge and skills. It leads to social polarization. And often to violence. Because people don’t go gently into being owned, or moved around, or demonized.
Exploring Empathy
So, what if we become aware of these risks? And want to change? In a safe, thoughtful, and gradual way?
Terry Givens, in her book Radical Empathy, outlines one path. (For historical context, she speaks into the Black Lives Matter movement.) Givens suggests we start by developing compassion for ourselves. By realizing that it is okay to be vulnerable. Then, we take a look at who we are—at our values and our upbringing. At the biases these create. And at how biases affect our self-understanding and our approach to social issues. Then, we may be more open to understand how others see themselves and their own lives.
Animals: A Case Study
Be honest with yourself. When you first read Deuteronomy, did you notice how Moses presents animals? If you didn’t, are you willing to ask yourself why not?
Or are you just rolling your eyes at this whole idea? Are you thinking, “That’s just the way it is! Humans own farm animals and working animals. We avoid or eliminate dangerous wild animals. Nothing’s wrong with that. Why is Laura always blathering on about animals anyway?”
And now, if you dare, pause to notice your reaction. Is it part of a pattern? How do you usually react to an invitation to see Others differently? When can you accept that invitation, and when not? What experiences and values shape those boundaries? Does asking the questions leave you annoyed, angry, or afraid? If so, can you hold yourself in compassion?
Image: A 1933 promotional image of King Kong, Wikimedia Commons
Two stories:
I was an enthusiastic bike rider in college. Growing up in Brooklyn, I was completely a city kid.
On a bike tour — through the Pennsylvania Dutch country, if I remember right — I got tired during a long uphill climb, and walked for a while beside a field. There was a herd of cows, and one cow was near the fence.
I stopped, and we looked at each other for a while.
I’d never encountered a cow like that — they were always “Look! A cow!” from the car. (And on my mother’s side, the family were retail butchers.)
But on the other side of the fence was a living, conscious being . . .
I started my journey through vegetarianism after that.
Second story:
Isaac, a beagle/Lab mix, was a city-raised dog living with me in Toronto. We were driving through the countryside one day, probably after a hike, and stopped on the roadside.
There was a horse standing across a fence. Isaac had never been that close to a horse before. He was sniffing hard, edging closer to the fence, but not barking. The horse slowly came over, and they were nose-to-nose for a while.
We got back in the car and continued home through the Ontario countryside. Isaac would alert whenever we passed a horse, e- — he knew what that was, now.
Thanks for bringing back those memories —
. Charles
What beautiful stories! Friendly beings, curious about each other, open to meet without danger. Thank you!
I have been a vegetarian for about 15 years but sadly, still not vegan. I try not to think about it.
Thanks for sharing that, Shira. Almost all eating involves taking a life; growing food often does, too. Limit damage where you can, and stay healthy. Shabbat Shalom