Cannibalism: A Perfectly Natural History

Chapter 14 examines cannibalism in China, contrasting its historical acceptance with the strong taboo found in Western societies. Unlike cultures influenced by Ancient Greek and Judeo-Christian traditions, China developed its own perspectives on cannibalism, shaped by historical records spanning thousands of years. The “long history of cannibalism” (197) in China comes from classical literature, dynastic chronicles, and eyewitness accounts. Historian Key Ray Chong identified two main forms of cannibalism in China: survival cannibalism, which occurred during famines and sieges, and learned or cultural cannibalism, which was institutionalized and accepted under certain conditions. Siege-related cannibalism was recorded as early as 594 BCE, and in 205 BCE, an imperial edict even permitted families to exchange children for consumption to avoid eating their own kin. Cannibalism remained consistent throughout Chinese history, with hundreds of incidents recorded up until the 20th century.

The largest instance of survival cannibalism in China occurred during Mao Zedong’s Great Leap Forward (1958-1961), “a disastrous attempt at utopian engineering” (198) that led to a catastrophic famine. Agricultural policies based on pseudoscience, forced collectivization, and bureaucratic incompetence resulted in the starvation of at least 30 million people, with some estimates reaching 46 million. Desperate survivors ate tree bark, weeds, and eventually human flesh. Eyewitness accounts describe villagers secretly consuming the bodies of the dead, especially children. Despite its scale, the famine and the resulting cannibalism were suppressed in Chinese history, and many Chinese citizens remain unaware of the full extent of the tragedy.

China also practiced “learned cannibalism” (202) for various reasons, including revenge, punishment, medicinal beliefs, and even filial piety. The consumption of human flesh was detailed in plays, poems, and novels, with some texts describing it as a delicacy. Historical records mention prisoners of war being slaughtered for food and, even as late as the Cultural Revolution in the 1960s, political enemies were reportedly executed and consumed. Additionally, filial piety—deep respect for elders—led to cases where children voluntarily cut off pieces of their own bodies, such as thighs or livers, “to provide nutrition to a starving loved one or as a treatment of last resort” (204).

Unlike in the West, where cannibalism became an absolute moral taboo, China viewed it with greater nuance. While not encouraged, it was often accepted in extreme situations. However, as Western influence grew, China began adopting external perspectives on cannibalism, contributing to modern silence and stigma surrounding past incidents like the Great Leap Forward.

In Chapter 15, Schutt explores the concept of ritual and medicinal cannibalism, challenging the idea that Western societies have always opposed such practices. Anthropologist Bill Arens, known for his controversial stance that there is no concrete evidence of ritual cannibalism, later acknowledged that ingesting human body parts for medicinal purposes constitutes a form of cannibalism. In a conversation with Schutt, Arens argued that both South American groups who consumed ground human bones and Western societies that used human organs in medicine should be classified under the same definition of cannibalism.

Arens’s work reshaped the study of cannibalism by increasing the scrutiny applied to historical claims, exposing the racism behind labeling Indigenous groups as cannibals and forcing a reassessment of the Age of Discovery. His work also led to more rigorous academic standards in evaluating reports of cannibalism, establishing a “clear-cut set of criteria” (209) to evaluate claims of cannibalism. Now, many scholars now believing ritual cannibalism was less common than once thought.

Schutt shifts to the topic of medicinal cannibalism, which was historically widespread in both China and Europe. In China, medicinal cannibalism dates back over 2,000 years, with records of human body parts being used to treat diseases. Chinese medical texts describe using human flesh, gallbladders, bones, hair, and organs as remedies, often justified by Confucian ideals of filial piety. Family members sometimes offered parts of their own bodies, such as pieces of their thigh or liver, to feed and heal their elders.

Western societies, despite publicly condemning cannibalism among Indigenous peoples, engaged in their own form of medicinal cannibalism for centuries. During the European Renaissance, consuming human body parts was a common medical practice for “many Renaissance-enlightened Christians” (210). Blood, skulls, bones, and organs were used to treat ailments, with epilepsy patients drinking fresh blood from executed criminals. Human fat was applied to wounds, and powdered skulls were believed to cure headaches and dysentery. European royalty, physicians, and scientists—including figures like King Charles II and Francis Bacon—participated in these practices.

One of the most infamous aspects of European medicinal cannibalism was the use of mumia, a substance made from ground-up Egyptian mummies. With authentic mummies in limited supply, “a thriving cottage industry popped up to supply ersatz mumia” (215). Originally a misunderstanding of the Arabic word for bitumen (tar), Europeans mistakenly believed the preserved bodies contained healing properties. This led to a thriving trade in mummy powder, which was sold in pharmacies until the early 20th century. Medicinal cannibalism faded in the West due to changing scientific perspectives, hygiene standards, and attitudes toward the human body. However, Schutt highlights how Western societies selectively forgot their own cannibalistic history while condemning others.

Chapter 16 explores the phenomenon of placentophagy, the consumption of the human placenta, particularly among modern Westerners. Schutt first encounters the topic in a New York magazine article featuring placenta-based recipes, including placenta smoothies, jerky, and encapsulated supplements. While the practice is often dismissed as a fringe trend, proponents claim various health benefits. Schutt investigates the biological role of the placenta, its significance in mammalian evolution, and the reasons why most mammals—except humans and camelids—consume their placentas after birth.

The placenta is a temporary organ that develops during pregnancy to nourish and protect the fetus. It facilitates oxygen and nutrient exchange between mother and baby while also producing hormones like estrogen and progesterone. Despite its essential role, it is typically discarded as medical waste after childbirth, as it exits the body after labor. However, in most mammals, the placenta is consumed immediately post-birth. Scientists have proposed several evolutionary reasons for this behavior, including predator avoidance, nutritional replenishment, hormonal benefits, and pain relief.

Psychologist Mark Kristal, a leading expert on placentophagy, noted “the complete absence of any valid research on the topic” (225). He has conducted research on rodents, finding that placenta consumption enhances the effects of natural pain-relieving opioids and may reward maternal behavior. However, he notes that there is no clear scientific evidence that placentophagy benefits humans, nor has it been a widespread cultural practice. A 2010 study examining 179 preindustrial societies did not find “single instance of a cultural tradition associated with the consumption of placentas by moms—or anyone else, for that matter” (227).

Despite this, placentophagy has gained popularity in the US, particularly among advocates of home births and alternative medicine, as well as people “with a kind of back-to-nature-hippie-commune philosophy” (228). Schutt interviews Claire Rembis, a placenta encapsulation specialist and mother of 10, who credits placenta consumption with stabilizing her mood and increasing energy postpartum. She claims it helped her recover from anemia without taking iron supplements. However, she acknowledges that there is no formal scientific research supporting these benefits.

She invites Shutt to her home to try the placenta recipes for himself. Rembis’s husband, a chef, prepares a placenta dish for Schutt, who describes the taste and texture as similar to “the chicken gizzards we’d fried up as college students” (240). Schutt references historical descriptions of human flesh, noting that cannibals and early explorers have compared its taste to pork or veal. Schutt discusses infamous cases of criminal cannibalism, such as Armin Meiwes, a German cannibal who described human meat as slightly bitter pork, and Japanese murderer Issei Sagawa, who likened it to raw tuna, but he is unwilling to give anything approaching acclaim to criminals whose victims’ families may still be alive.

Schutt also highlights concerns about the safety of placenta consumption. The placenta can retain harmful substances and pathogens, including hepatitis, herpes, and HIV, raising potential health risks. Some experts, including UK obstetrician Maggie Blott, argue that placenta consumption provides no medical benefits for well-nourished individuals. Kristal suggests that humans may have evolved away from placentophagy due to negative side effects or the development of alternative postpartum recovery methods. Despite skepticism from the medical community, placentophagy continues to gain traction. In 2013, Oregon passed a law allowing mothers to take their placentas home from the hospital. However, Schutt wonders if there may be some reason why few societies in world history engaged in placentophagy.