Examining PETA’s Prez

If the name Ingrid Newkirk doesn't sound familiar, here's a brief introduction: she's the reason it's embarrassing to admit you have a subscription to Dog Fancy. In 1980, Newkirk cofounded the animal-rights organization People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), and the group's paint-smearing, pie-throwing, body-baring antics have made it the public face of the animal-welfare community, occasionally for the better, but much more often, for the worse.

"I Am an Animal," an engrossing documentary premiering Monday on HBO, tells the story of Newkirk's rise to the presidency of the world's largest animal-rights organization, and along the way it evenhandedly dissects PETA's methods and tactics.

It's a fascinating time to examine Newkirk's rationale. There have been several recent controversies in which the needs of humans have contended against the often conflicting concerns of animals. Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick was suspended indefinitely following his admission of involvement in a dogfighting ring. Talk-show host Ellen DeGeneres went into hysterics in front of a television audience, pleading for the return of a dog she got from a draconian adoption agency then later gave to a family friend—when the agency discovered what she'd done, it removed the dog from the friend's home. "Heroes" star Hayden Panettiere made headlines when she engaged in confrontation with a group of Japanese dolphin hunters. And on television, the popular meerkats Flower and Shakespeare of Animal Planet's "Meerkat Manor" were killed, leaving the show's fans stunned and saddened.

In each of these cases, editorialists have mocked those who take the side of animals, reflecting an attitude that has become conventional wisdom—those crazy animal nut jobs are at it again. This attitude stems from the position that those interested in animal rights are uninterested in human rights. It would stand to reason that people could be interested in both human and animal rights, except that so many facets of human life—diet, fashion, entertainment and medicine—depend on the subjugation and exploitation of animals.

Still, most animal lovers manage to reconcile the competing interests. Newkirk, however, is not you usual animal lover. "Animal" makes clear that she does in fact care more about animals than she does about people. The film shows her youth as the reverse image of a serial killer who provides early evidence of his predilections by killing animals. She recounts a story from her childhood, wherein at 8 years old she confronted a grown man whom she saw abusing a bull. "He knows he was lucky I didn't kill him," she says. It's made clear that, for whatever reason, Newkirk was just wired this way.

She has led an unusually human-free life: distant parents, no siblings (save for a dog who she thought of as one), no children (she volunteered for sterilization at a young age) and no husband (she was married, but didn't have time to invest in the relationship). She defends controversial ad campaigns comparing the suffering of animals to African slaves and Jews during the Holocaust. In a thread pivotal to understanding Newkirk's mindset, an idealistic, young PETA foot soldier is sent undercover into an Arkansas Butterball turkey processing plant. After two months of working in the plant, he has notes but no video; he blames technical difficulty, but it's clear his inability to execute has more to do with mental anguish. Newkirk orders him to be replaced. "Once in a blue moon, the investigator won't do their job," she says. "They'll shirk, and then I have no sympathy for them."