Cannibalism: A Perfectly Natural History

“Although the Eloi-Morlock relationship was clearly meant to serve as a cautionary tale of the horrors of class distinction, H.G. Wells imagined a biological phenomenon remarkably similar to what researchers like David Pfennig and his colleagues are working on today.”

Schutt demonstrates the close links between scientific and cultural understandings of cannibalism. H.G. Wells’s depiction of cannibalism endures, Schutt implies, because it has scientific value. It drives toward the same fear of cannibalism being a fundamental part of animal or human behavior, rather than something entirely alien or impossible. Wells’s depiction, and other cultural depictions of cannibalism, resonate particularly strongly because they align so closely with scientific reality.

“My personal favorite example of piscine cannibalism is yet another instance in which immature animals are the ones getting consumed.”

Schutt is aware of the taboo against cannibalism. His writing is self-aware in this sense, wryly reveling in the examples from nature which exhibit some of the most fundamental aspects of the taboo. His personal favorite example is an example of baby animals eating their kin; his self-conscious tone helps to dismantle the taboo by approaching a seemingly off limits topic in an honest yet humorous fashion. This humorous admission helps to normalize discussions of cannibalism and invites readers to reconsider their own biases, reinforcing Schutt’s broader goal of demystification.

“As a result of this prayer-like attitude, they’ve become some of the most popular insects in mythology and folklore.”

Folklore and culture are an essential part of Schutt’s investigation into cannibalism. The way in which myths develop to explain behavior in the natural world informs the cultural taboo against cannibalism, but can also be read in many other areas. The description of the stories and legends associated with the mantis, for example, allows Schutt to demonstrate the way in which cultural ideas about a subject can predate and influence scientific understanding. Even before the mantis was studied in a lab, humans were coming up with stories to explain the insects’ behavior, just as stories are invented with regards to cannibalism.

“Descriptions of the behavior among our closest relatives are both chilling and fascinating.”

Schutt begins his book about cannibalism with examples from the animal kingdom. Since cannibalism is a taboo subject and he is a zoologist, he uses his expert knowledge of nature to familiarize the audience with the subject before diving into the more taboo aspects. The description of cannibalism among chimpanzees is “both chilling and fascinating” (59) because of their proximity to humanity; Schutt is rhetorically easing the audience into a controversial but fascinating area. By showing that even our closest animal relatives engage in this behavior, Schutt destabilizes the idea that cannibalism is inherently inhuman. This illustrates the theme of Breaking the Social Taboo of Cannibalism, highlighting how proximity to taboo behaviors in nature can challenge assumptions of moral exclusivity in humans.

“As a result, a valid scientific hypothesis […] now takes a back seat to a distorted take on the subject as well as a deceptive but well executed argument by climate change deniers.”

Schutt makes a case for why cannibalism should be studied by pointing to the way in which an ignorance of cannibalism gives ammunition to those who wish to subvert science. A misreported headline about polar bears was spread due to the public’s ignorance of bears’ cannibalistic tendencies. As such, the media and science appeared less credible. With a greater study and knowledge of cannibalism as a subject, by ignoring the taboo, scientists and the public can protect against misinformation of this sort.

“Before I knew it, USA Today was talking about dinosaurs, chianti, and fava beans.”

Since cannibalism is a controversial subject, proper scientific research can be difficult. Raymond Rogers recounts a story which illustrates the media’s fascination and horror with the subject. Until he used the term cannibalism, he was unable to attract attention to his research, even though the research in question was not conclusive. The sensationalist nature of the media exploded the interest in Rogers’s research only when the term cannibalism was used, gaining attention but threatening to undermine the scientific credibility of the topic.

“As the researchers watched, the baby caecilians peeled the outer layer of their mother’s skin like a grape… and then they consumed it.”

Earlier in the book, Schutt commented on the sensationalized way in which the media treats discussions of cannibalism. When he describes the cannibalistic process of the baby caecilians, however, he tends to bend to the same rhetorical flourishes. The use of similes—”like a grape” (82)—and the ellipsis veer toward a sensationalized depiction of this process, suggesting that Schutt is not immune to the same issues as those he described in the media.

“Neanderthals are no longer depicted as knuckle- dragging brutes. Instead, studies have shown that they were highly intelligent, with some specimens exhibiting a cranial capacity (i.e., brain volume) 100 to 150 milliliters greater than the 1,500- milliliter capacity of modern humans!”

The changing understanding of Neanderthals among scientists bolsters Schutt’s goal to alter perceptions around cannibalism. A previous received wisdom about a scientific topic was sensationalized and then corrected in the scientific community. While the taint to the Neanderthal reputation may remain, the seriousness with which the scientific community treats the topic gives Schutt hope that a similar reappraisal of the topic of cannibalism may be possible.

“In the end, tall tales, especially those with bestial or cannibalistic angles, effectively dehumanized the islanders.”

Schutt has employed a wry tone in his discussion of the cultural taboos associated with the discussion of cannibalism. In the chapter on the Carib people, however, he illustrates how this taboo can be weaponized and cynically employed to justify terrible acts of violence. By labeling someone a cannibal, Columbus and his peers were able to make people taboo. Thus, their enslavement, suffering, and deaths were excused. Whether they were actually cannibals becomes secondary to the cynical way in which they were labeled as such for the immediate benefit of European colonizers. This quote demonstrates how power structures often use cultural taboos to dehumanize and dominate marginalized groups.

“In what would become a blueprint for cannibal tales throughout history, descriptions of the practice were penned decades or even centuries after the actual event and without the input of additional witnesses.”

Tales about cannibalism, Schutt observes, have long been removed from the actual incidents themselves. There is an inherent irony in Schutt’s observation, as he is similarly writing about anecdotes of cannibalism that he did not witness firsthand. Schutt is aware of this irony, however, and is performing a similar act in the hope of untangling many of the myths which have been falsely disseminated by people with agendas. This quote also underscores the role of narrative in shaping history—often at the expense of truth—and reveals how cannibalism has been co-opted as a storytelling device more than a documented reality.

“How come a white ethnocentric anthropologist, who has never spoken to these people, or been in their country, can say what they do or why they do something?”

Schutt is seeking to dispel many of the myths which have been built up around cannibalism but, as the quote suggests, this can be difficult when many eminent scientists also disagree as to the extent to which cannibalism has ever existed. The disagreements between the scientists become—for academic discourse—quite heated, illustrating the complexities and nuances of the subject which is still shrouded in taboo, disagreement, and mythology.

“The Spanish, on the other hand, killed their own God, drank his blood and baked his body into little biscuits which they sacrificed to themselves. He found the entire practice unspeakable. The Spanish were outraged and had Atahualpa publicly executed.”

One way in which Schutt attempts to dispel the myths around cannibalism is to reframe a fundamental aspect of the world’s most popular religion. The Eucharist is a familiar concept to many Christians, but the idea that it might be cannibalistic is unspeakable or blasphemous. Schutt cites another book, in which a non-Christian gives an objective and condemnatory view of the Eucharist as the consumption of flesh. To all intents and purposes, this is cannibalism and Schutt wants his audience to reflect on how they react to this assertion. By drawing this comparison, Schutt also exposes the cultural relativity of taboos and invites the reader to confront the discomfort of applying one society’s norms to another’s beliefs.

“All mention of cannibalism-related incidents had been purged from the public record, apparently because Stalin and other Communist Party leaders wanted to portray Leningrad’s besieged citizens as heroes.”

Schutt’s discussion of cannibalism in Leningrad gestures toward another way in which the taboo surrounding cannibalism makes scientific study difficult. Since the desperation cannibalization of starving people was considered a failure, the Soviet government purged records from the historical accounts. The taboo of cannibalism caused Stalin to try to alter history, thus reducing the resources available to researchers who wish to study cannibalism. This censorship reflects the theme of Media Sensationalism as a Problem, as political control over historical narrative actively hinders scientific understanding and public reckoning.

“Yet it is likely that very few people outside the archaeology/anthropology communities will ever read it, and this presents its own problem.”

Schutt’s criticism of Media Sensationalism as a Problem cuts both ways. Media reports of cannibalism tend to make scientific discussion of the topic difficult, both because the media obsesses over macabre details, but also because—as in the case of the Donner Party revisionism—there is a tendency to report on cannibalism without proper evaluation of the evidence. The desire to publish an attention-grabbing story trumps the need for balanced and reasonable discussions of a scientific topic.

“Throughout his magnum opus, Frazer discussed the practice of cannibalism and other barbarous customs. He also advised his readers not to be fooled into “judging the savage by the standard of European civilization.”

James Frazer’s landmark The Golden Bough urged readers to take an empathetic approach to the study of different cultures. Ironically, however, Frazer’s work became an essential part of the way in which taboo subjects like cannibalism were used to reinforce colonial stereotypes. As such, Schutt provides audiences with an example of how even a considered study of a difficult subject can lead to unexpected and unwanted results. This contradiction illustrates the uneasy tension between scholarly intent and cultural consequence—an issue at the heart of Schutt’s investigation into how taboos evolve and endure.

“In addition to the historical record of cannibalism contained within China’s dynastic histories, the behavior in its various incarnations is also abundantly documented in plays, poems, and other works of fiction.”

While Schutt does not use the existence of cannibalism in Chinese literature and fiction as evidence of cannibalism in history, he does point to it as evidence for the contemporary sentiment regarding cannibalism as markedly different to Western ideas. These plays and poems, for example, are not as critical of cannibalism as their Western counterparts because the same taboo does not exist in Chinese culture. While not providing evidence of the cannibalism itself, the tone and content of the fiction indicates that the idea of cannibalism as taboo is not fundamental to the human psyche.

“They did it without guilt, though it often entailed a healthy dose of gore. They did it for hundreds of years. Then they made believe that it never happened.”

Schutt points out that Western societies not only practiced forms of cannibalism, but have also actively expunged such practices from the historic records. As such, the use of cannibalism to justify violence and oppression is revealed to be hypocritical in the extreme. The same societies which used cannibalism to justify colonialism have ignored or even actively forgotten their own cannibalistic practices. This reveals how collective memory is shaped by convenience and power, allowing dominant cultures to preserve a sense of moral superiority.

“The corpse was to lie in cold water in the air for 24 hours, after which the flesh was cut in pieces and sprinkled with a powder of myrrh and aloes. This was soaked in spirit of wine and turpentine for 24 hours, hung up for 12 hours, again soaked in the spirit mixture for 24 hours, and finally hung up to dry.”

Cannibalism in Western countries was so pervasive, Schutt points out, that official medical guides offered techniques and advice on how to prepare bodies for consumption. This medicinal cannibalism was so widespread and seemingly benign that doctors had developed guidelines for best practices. While condemning foreign societies as barbaric cannibals, Western doctors were preparing strict instructions on how best to ready a corpse for human consumption. This deeply ironic moment shows how cultural taboos are selectively applied, masking our own histories of cannibalism under the guise of science and medicine.

“Out of respect for the families and loved ones of their victims, I have chosen not to provide these murderers with anything that could even vaguely be interpreted as acclaim.”

In his discussion of criminal cannibals, Schutt reveals to the audience that he is unwilling to share their stories out of respect to the victims. He refuses to engage in the sensationalized reporting which, he earlier notes, have perpetuated the issue of discussing cannibalism in a serious way. He does not want to continue the same problems which have made his book necessary. By refusing to sensationalize criminal cases, Schutt underscores his commitment to ethical scholarship and distances himself from the very media practices he critiques.

“A few minutes later, I had cleaned my plate.”

In Chapter 16, Schutt crosses a boundary. He consumes human meat and engages in cannibalism, though the act is conveyed in a simple sentence which describes a typical family dinner. In this way, Schutt continues his attempt to demystify cannibalism. His simple language mirrors his simple meal, as he strips away the cultural taboos of the act and likens it to every other meal he has consumed. Rather than simply reporting on cannibalism, he is now actively engaging in—and actively demystifying—cannibalism. This understated tone reinforces Schutt’s broader argument: that cannibalism, stripped of its tabloid associations, can and should be approached as a legitimate topic of study.

“The worldwide media coverage did have at least one positive effect, in that it increased the public’s awareness of the deadly problem facing the Fore. Because of this, universities began to funnel funds into kuru research, and this money helped support a new influx of professional researchers into the region.”

Schutt criticizes media sensationalism throughout the book. In the case of kuru research, however, this same sensationalism may have saved lived. Indirectly, the media fascination with anything related to cannibalism drove attention to a little-understood subject, thus increasing the amount of research money available. While Schutt continues to criticize the sensationalist media, he notes the irony that this same sensationalism indirectly may have saved lives.

“Shockingly, this last finding appeared to contradict one of the central tenets of biology, the fact that all organisms require nucleic acids to reproduce.”

The taboo against discussions of cannibalism have damaging effects in the world of science. Since the topic was sensationalized or scoffed at in equal measure, Alper’s potentially ground-breaking research was overlooked. The scientific community’s reluctance to take something seriously due to it being tangentially related to a sensationalized topic undermines science itself, Schutt implies, which justifies Schutt’s attempts to challenge such taboos. This discovery—that prions can reproduce without nucleic acids—highlights how science itself is vulnerable to dogma, particularly when influenced by culturally taboo topics.

“An investigator from the government’s CJD-surveillance unit in Edinburgh visited Mrs. Rimmer, warning her not to say anything about her granddaughter’s condition. ‘Think about the economy,’ he told her, ‘think about the Common Market.’”

The taboos against discussions of cannibalism or diseases such as kuru seem insignificant next to more material concerns. When faced with an epidemic in Britain in the 1990s, Schutt suggests, the government was more concerned about spooking the financial markets than breaking any taboos. Next to such pronounced material and political concerns, social constructs like taboos seem weaker. If they can be ignored in such circumstances, with potentially disastrous results, then Shutt’s attempts to dispel the taboo are vindicated. This anecdote shows how economic interests can silence public health warnings, reinforcing Schutt’s argument that transparency must override taboo.