A friend of mine once declared a slightly odd, but surprisingly reasonable, opinion: “If you wouldn’t be willing to kill the animal yourself, you shouldn’t eat its meat.” I assumed my friend was speaking in jest for two reasons. First, we grew up in São Paulo - a densely populated city without a cow, sheep or chicken in sight for many miles, making our hunting skills, understandably, non-existent. Second, we were used to a Brazilian diet, which values highly its animal protein, especially in the context of our churrasco, or Brazilian BBQ.
Over the years, I have come to appreciate the wisdom of that statement. If you are not willing to acknowledge the fact that your bodily sustenance is coming at a great cost to a living creature, are you really going to appreciate its value?
Wrapped in sterile plastic in a controlled air composition, sitting on refrigerated shelves of the local supermarket, it becomes easier to separate farm animals from our Sunday roast (possibly with the exception of more inventive dishes using recognisable cuts of anatomy…yes, I’m looking at you steak and kidney pie).
If we are so competent at compartmentalisation that we can ‘forget' the animal cost of animal protein, do we really stand a chance of acknowledging the animals sacrificed in the development of medical procedures and drugs, or in the study of disease?
The RSPCA estimates that every year 100 million animals are sacrificed in medical research, of which 3 million are in the UK [1]. Not only are these animals sacrificed, but their entire lives are dedicated to the study of human disease. This has not gone unnoticed by the population: increasing pressure is being put on the government and scientists to discard animal experiments altogether. A petition requesting an end to animal testing in the UK currently has over 100,000 signatures [2].
Christians working in research, policy and government find themselves pressed between goals to protect and serve humans on the one hand, and uphold animal rights on the other. Does Scripture have anything that can help us navigate these tensions? For Christian scientists working with animal models, should research look any different?
Of mice and men: are animals as valuable as humans?
In order to understand how Christian ethics helps us navigate animal experiments, the first question we need to address is: what is the relative value of animals in relation to humans? If animals have equal or greater value than humans, then our answer is simple - there is no way to justify animal experimentation. If, however, they are of lesser value than humans, there may be circumstances where animal experiments are appropriate.
Scripture frequently calls us to contemplate the animal world - it asks us to consider the ways of the ant (Proverbs 6.6), observe the fish (Job 12.7-10) and talks about how the stork, crane and swallow understand some things better than humans (Jeremiah 8.7). Often their ways of living are called upon to move us towards reflection.
Strikingly, in Matthew chapter 6 we learn something about the relationship of God Himself with animals. Jesus instructs his listeners to “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6.26).
This gives us two key pieces of information: it tells us that God cares for animals, but also that humans are of superior worth. As we read in Genesis 1:27, God’s image is bestowed uniquely on us as human beings. What being made in His image means exactly has long been debated. However, I believe one important aspect of bearing God’s image is our calling to partner with Him as stewards of creation - such as by naming the animals (Genesis 2.19).
This gives us a few useful starting parameters: (1) animals are valuable, (2) humans are inherently different from them, and are even more valuable, (3) humans are responsible for stewarding animals. Therefore, animal experiments are not necessarily all immoral, even if they were not desirable or part of the way God intended the world to be. So, how did animal experimentation become part of the world as we know it?
Destructive ripples of human rebellion
Unfortunately, the Genesis account shows how humans chose to rebel against God rather than trust his instructions, resulting in a breaking of the relationship between God and humans. Given the prominent position of humans in creation, this rebellion did not only have consequences for God-human relationships. Our rebellion had far-reaching consequences for every relationship humans are part of: our relationships with each other, with the environment, with work and with the animal kingdom.
For instance, after the fall we have the first recorded animal death or, perhaps more precisely, the first animal sacrifice. When Adam and Eve sinned and realised they were naked, they immediately sewed together fig leaves to cover themselves. God proceeded to cover their nakedness using clothing made from animal skin (Genesis 3.21). This shocking development is the first hint that the only way to cover up or atone for rebellion is through death, an early foreshadowing of the cross.
Moreover, it is only after the fall that God says “Everything that lives and moves will be food for you. Just as I gave you the green plants, I now give you everything.” (Genesis 9.3), suggesting that life in pre-fall Eden may have consisted of a plant-based diet. After the fall, animals became fair game too.
These two events provide us with tangible examples of how human rebellion directly impacted animal life and welfare.
Similarly, animal experiments are an indirect product of human rebellion. It is because of our fall that human suffering and death came to be, triggering a demand for animal experiments in medical research.
The need to simultaneously uphold our responsibility as stewards, the inherent value of animals and the needs of humans makes animal experiments seem like a daunting ethical minefield. Fortunately - and surprisingly - there are many aspects of Scripture that can help us navigate these tensions.
Mission, motivation, method: is my research redemptive?
For anyone that has endeavoured to read the Bible starting from Genesis and got stuck somewhere around Leviticus, you’ll be well aware that animal sacrifices were a big deal in Old Testament law. Levitical law is packed with mind-boggling detail of how animal sacrifices - some of them possibly ancient, distant relatives of the churrasco - were to be conducted, and their important role in relating to God.
We now live in a time where animal sacrifice of this type is no longer necessary. Animal sacrifices foreshadowed an event which has now taken place: the incarnation of God as a human being, and his death on the cross for us as the perfect sacrificial lamb, the sacrifice to end all sacrifice.
This particular sacrificial lamb, however, did not stay dead.
We still live in a post-fall world, but we also live in a post-resurrection world. We are pressed between the reality of sin and its consequences - disease, oppression, death - and the truth that the kingdom of God has arrived and is making things new. Creation still groans as its redemption is not yet complete, but the resurrection is the sign that God’s redeeming work has begun.
Christians are called to actively partner with God in bringing His kingdom - promoting justice into situations of inequality, empowerment to those who are oppressed, healing where there is death and decay. This should shape our work, rest and, naturally, our research. But what does redemptive research look like in practice?
With any research, including that which involves animal experimentation, I urge us to consider three key aspects as we discern whether it is redemptive in nature: the mission or purpose of the research, the motivation of the researcher and the method of the research.
First, let’s consider the mission of research. Animal sacrifices in the Bible could be of two types - they could be performed in God-ordained circumstances or they could be sacrifices to idols. I believe it is reasonable to extend these two categories to the sacrifice of animals in the context of experiments.
Thus, the first question worth asking of any animal experiment to understand its mission is “Does this research help promote the kingdom of God?”. For example, for those of us working on understanding and healing human disease, there is a strong case to be made that this research helps bring the kingdom of God. In Luke 10, when Jesus instructs his disciples to expand their ministry by going into towns and healing the sick, his instruction is: “Heal the sick who are there and tell them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you”, suggesting that bringing healing is a way of bringing the kingdom of God into this world.
Although animal sacrifice remains a tragedy, we have extensive evidence in Genesis and Leviticus that there are circumstances where God permits animal death for the sake of human flourishing.
On the other hand, if research is not advancing the kingdom of God, it may be a sacrifice to an idol. While in the modern day we do not name our gods Athena, Aphrodite and Aries, we still may perform animal experiments in the service of human intellect, beauty or power. For an experimentalist sacrificing animals in the context of testing cosmetic products, for instance, justifying that sacrifice for any reason other than the human obsession with beauty (or, perhaps, worship to Aphrodite) may be more challenging.
Secondly, it is important for the researcher operating from a Christian framework to understand their personal motivation. While the previous question of mission looked at the wider purpose of an experiment, this question is personal to the experimentalist: why am I sacrificing this animal? Similarly to the narrative of the tower of Babel, even when pursuing a seemingly good endeavour - such as building a city - our own motivations can place these good endeavours on altars to idols. These altars may be hidden in our intent and our hearts, but may well be our downfall.
For those pursuing a research degree, this is particularly poignant: does sacrificing exclusively for the sake of an honorific title really differ from sacrificing animals on an altar to ourselves?
The four Rs of animal research
If we are satisfied that the purpose of research and our motivation are good, we still are responsible for how the research is performed. Even after the fall, we are still stewards and are accountable for animal welfare.
I have proposed that research must be redemptive, but there are another 3 Rs of animal research which are more widely known, and helpful and practical for us to consider: replacement, reduction and refinement.
Replacement refers to replacing animal experiments with other types of experiments. Fortunately, the experimental toolkit of the biologist has been expanding over the last few decades, with an abundance of cell lines, human-derived cell models and organoids providing various systems suitable for molecular and cellular biology and genetics.
Technological changes are increasing the utility of biopsied and post-mortem human samples (donated voluntarily), giving us a means of inquiring into disease whilst bypassing the need for animal models. Increasingly, we can even leverage known information and use computational models for prediction and study. Alternatively, we can at least use lower forms of animals less likely to experience pain (e.g. certain invertebrates).
Depending on the scientific question, these alternatives may allow us to conduct pilot studies to predict whether an idea is worth pursuing, or even replace animal experiments altogether.
The word 'replacement' is surprisingly reminiscent of God’s course of action in Scripture: animals were the replacement for humans to atone for our sins, and later Jesus was the ultimate replacement. Perhaps by replacing our animals where possible we are making our research a little more Christ-like.
Reduction refers to using fewer animals, where possible. Although the nature of research does rely on higher numbers for increased statistical confidence, it is worth considering carefully the statistical requirements prior to an experiment, as well as the risks of an experiment in advance. Are there contingencies that can reduce the number of animals that die before the end of the experiment and therefore avoid waste? Are there other validation methods (revisiting replacement) which may be used in conjunction with a smaller animal cohort to give confidence whilst minimising the use of animals?
I believe the narrative of the flood in Genesis 11 gives an example of God applying this principle of reduction. When sin was abundant, God could have easily instructed Noah to build a boat that could hold only the small group of humans God intended to survive the flood. Instead, and probably to the inconvenience of Noah, he instructed the construction of an ark that would protect and house a small group of animals during the flood too. Not all animals were saved, but some were.
The reduction principle is taken further again with Levitical law. After the devastation left in the wake of the flood, God explicitly institutes a framework for animal sacrifices within the law to manage the sinful nature of humans. To our post-modern mindset, the number of animal sacrifices may seem excessive, but they are still a dramatic reduction from the death resulting from the flood.
Refinement methods generally aim to reduce the pain, suffering, distress or lasting harm of experiments on animals. This means prioritising the welfare of your animals in the way you design experiments, as well as being intentional about learning animal handling skills to be as precise and efficient as possible.
I advocate that refinement also includes maximising the utility of the data generated in an animal experiment. This means having excellent record-keeping, reporting in detail the procedures associated with the experiment and embracing open science by releasing the data generated. This should mean that fewer experiments of this nature need to be done: researchers may instead choose to reuse the publicly available data for an analysis, a check or a meta-analysis of multiple studies.
Upon completion of the creation of the world, God’s response was to look at his work and say that it was ‘very good’. Being able to refine our scientific skill, perform it with excellence and share it generously for God’s glory is a way of embracing his image in us.
So, are animal experiments worth the cost?
As with many big questions, our wanderings through Scripture suggest that the answer to “are animal experiments worth the cost?” is equally big, and it starts with “It depends…”.
Animal experiments, like disease and death, were not an original part of the good world God created, but in light of the fall, they have become an important part of bringing about healing and safe medical treatment for humans, whom God particularly values. This does not release us from our responsibility towards animals, but it does mean that for those of us who are followers of Jesus, our research must look different. We must consider its mission, our motivations and our methods. We must do it with excellence and considering the value of the creatures God has placed in our care.
Though I can appreciate the wisdom in my friend’s opinion, I don’t think we all necessarily need to be willing to conduct an animal experiment in order to be able to take a medication which went through animal testing. But perhaps we could acknowledge the value of those animals and their sacrifice for us the next time we whip out the ibuprofen or take a vaccine. That reflection may help us think about how to bring the kingdom of God where we are, looking towards a new heavens and a new earth, where there will be no more death, suffering or pain - for us, or our furry friends.
Further reading
To explore more of how we can help bring the kingdom of God closer through our work I recommend the book Surprised by Hope by NT Wright.
References
[1 ]https://science.rspca.org.uk/sciencegroup/researchanimals
[2] https://secure.peta.org.uk/page/26847/petition/1
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