Questioning Customs and Traditions in Culinary Ethics: the Case of Cruel and Environmentally Damaging Food Practices

Culinary traditions and food practices are at the center of our daily lives and therefore constitute an important part of culture. Whether they are part of significant rituals or simply routinely enacted, they tell us something about the way we relate to each other and to the non-human world. In other words, food practices have an ethical dimension. Our paper focuses on the possibility to make objective ethical assessments of problematic cultural practices rooted in culinary traditions as a reply to arguments associated with an ethical relativism according to which cultures produce ethical systems that are self-validating and therefore that cannot be criticized objectively. Drawing from examples involving animal cruelty and production methods harmful to the environment, we argue that it is possible to judge ethically questionable food practices from an objectivist standpoint inspired by moral progress, in contrario to a relativist point of view. Following a short discussion of ethical relativism, we present the outline of an acceptability test for questionable food practices and use it to analyse the case of the dog meat industry in South Korea.


Introduction
In one of our undergraduate courses in ethics, students watch a short video entitled La Table Suisse -A portrait of a very special restaurant (https:// www. youtu be. com/ watch?v= HuC0u Z28hTI). Its style is elegantly composed of beautiful images of cooking, fresh local ingredients displayed in artful ways, autumn forests and mountain sceneries. It shares the passion of a young chef inspired by nature, who feels very strong ties with his home 7 Page 2 of 17 country and who wants to reinvent his grandmother's recipes, a woman whom he watched cooking as a kid and who exerted a great influence on him.
At that point in the video, the narrator -who is the young chef himself -reveals his intention to revive in a modernized fashion his grandmother's cooking of the most tender part of the cat. The neatly polished image of a skinned cat suspended on a butcher's hook accompanies this revelation. Invariably, a horrified murmur then arises from the classroom. The narrator goes on explaining that, "in Switzerland, it is legal to eat dogs and cats as long as they are yours and [that], because of [their] adoption system, [they] are the first restaurant in Europe to be able to offer this traditional meat." He concludes by saying that he respects vegetarians who do not eat any animals but holds the view that there are no reasons not to eat cats and dogs if we eat chickens and pigs. With the end of the video, silence falls into the classroom and mild discomfort is perceptible among the students.
The restaurant La Table Suisse does not actually exist, and students are relieved to learn this information. Nevertheless, the video is effective in prompting discussion. For it questions our assumptions about meat eating, without stating a clear position in favour or against it. The video invites consideration of the issue by offering two arguments.
First, through the concluding remarks of the young chef, the video makes a claim familiar in animal ethics, the notion of treating similar cases similarly. In his seminal work Animal Liberation (1990, 81ff), Peter Singer insists on logical coherence as a key criterion in rethinking our treatment of animals. Echoing this argument, the young chef finds no relevant differences between cats, dogs, chickens, and pigs that would justify their distinct treatment at an ethical level. Although he misappropriates Singer's criterion by limiting its application to an anthropocentric outlook, the young chef raises an important point.
Settling the issue would lead to a lengthy discussion that we will not undertake here since our purpose is not to question meat eating per se, or the eating of any kinds of meat. Our interest lies more closely with the second argument presented in the video, which transpires from the young chef's reference to his national roots and grandmother's recipes.
In the video, the young chef describes cat meat as traditional meat, justifying his choice of menu by a strongly felt commitment to respect tradition in his unique art of cooking. The young chef thus offers the argument of respect for tradition as a legitimate and compelling reason for eating cat meat.
What should one make of such an argument? Do cultural considerations have the normative significance implied by the young chef? Would it be appropriate to claim that because a food practice forms part of a cultural tradition, it is consequently acceptable and immune to criticism and ethical accountability?
In this article, starting from the premise that "appeals to culture are ubiquitous in our pluralistic world" (Wichert and Nussbaum 2017, 109), we will explore the moral relevance of customs and traditions in the context of food ways using three ethically contentious cultural food practices as our backdrop: fish'n chips, shark fin soup and dog meat. These examples relate to the consumption of animal products which may be criticized for their detrimental ecological impact or their level of inherent cruelty while defended as emblematic cultural food practices 1 . We will focus our attention on one conceivable configuration of the argument of respect for tradition rooted in strict relativism.
After briefly setting the scene in the second section, we will argue that food customs and traditions are not ethical "trump cards" that supporters of problematic cultural food practices may pull out of their sleeves to end the debate, whether the latter occurs at a national or international level. The argument of respect for tradition is neither final nor decisive. For it confounds an important conceptual distinction between explanation and justification (third section). What is more, in the form we consider, it is associated with a relativist perspective that, although popular in some circles, convincing criticisms challenge (fourth section). Yet, food customs and traditions should not be pushed away from the back of the hand. Culture has value and creates value (Sandler 2015, 169). 2 Therefore, whenever summoned, the relativist version of the argument of respect for tradition should be examined for admissibility. Criteria have been proposed to this effect, providing the outline of an acceptability test that we will present and apply to one of our examples, that is, the consumption of dog meat (fifth section). Such analytical tools are important because, if one is to assess cultural practices, then one requires a method that prevents rash ethnocentrism and promotes a form of intellectual integrity, if not humility, on behalf of scholars dealing with potentially sensitive ethical issues.

Setting the Scene: Three Examples of Ethically Contentious Cultural Food Practices
When thinking about ethically objectionable cultural food practices, many examples come easily to mind, such as the Asian practice of eating live seafood (e.g., fish, crab, shrimp, or octopus). Other examples include French foie gras, dolphin hunting in Japan, whale hunting in Norway, as well as the Asian gourmet tradition of eating edible bird's nest (Hobbs 2004;Holtzman 2017;Thorburn 2014Thorburn , 2015. These cultural food practices are well known to the public and have triggered their share of sensationalistic attention from the media and public outcries. Many have also attracted the attention of grassroots organisations in North America, Europe, and Asia. Still, other ethically objectionable cultural food practices are less familiar, such as the consumption of small migratory birds in the Mediterranean geographic area, the overexploitation of "bush meat", and the growing popularity of guinea pigs in Andean gastronomic cuisine (Dawson 2018;Garcia 2013;Lien 2004).
Based on a limited content analysis of grassroots organisations' websites, we have selected three cultural food practices commonly labelled as unethical: the consumption of fish'n chips in Western societies, shark fin soup in Hong-Kong and mainland China and dog meat in South Korea. Whereas the latter is criticised for its cruelty to animals, the first two cultural food practices confront us with a different problem: they are both harmful to the environment because they are now part of an industrial culture of mass production and consumption.

Do You Fancy Fish'n Chips Mate?
Fish'n chips is a downright classic on the menu of pubs and eateries all around the world where British culture has spread. The meal does not stand as a tradition carrying spiritualistic or ritualistic overtones. Nevertheless, it is extremely popular and enjoyed among friends and family members when eating out casually. Eating fish'n chips is commonly accepted to the point where it is carried out without knowledge of its environmental implications. After 7 Page 4 of 17 all, why should we question ourselves about the morality of eating a plate of fried cod 3 and potatoes? The truth is that individuals and families eating fish'n chips as part of their usual diet might not feel like they are participating in the destruction of marine ecosystems, but they are, despite the benign appearance of the meal.
Fish'n chips is an important part of contemporary Western culture, which it has penetrated. However, its mass production implies actions within marine ecosystems that are harmful to nature regarding the scale of production necessary to satisfy the demands of craving Western pub customers. This simple cultural food practice, enlarged to industrial proportion and now part of a mainstream and dominant food culture, has become harmful to vast biotic communities, also known as ecosystems.
White fish commercial fisheries have had devastating effects on fish populations and marine ecosystems over the last century everywhere on the globe. Technological innovations in boats, sonars and catch preservation techniques have allowed the industry to collect fish well over the species' reproduction rates. In Eastern Canada, for example, the cod population (which was historically known to be fabulously abundant) has been depleted on a large scale and its biomass is estimated to have been reduced to between 75% and 99% of its historical levels (Meyers, Hutchings, and Barrowman 1997). Cod fishing requires trawlers, boats that rake the bottom of the sea to catch vast amounts of fish. This technique is highly productive, but also affects all life forms living at the bottom, severely damaging the ecosystems (Hiddick et al. 2017). The Canadian government stopped the rapid fall of the cod population in 1992, but the ecological consequences are still present today.

Shark Fin Soup for Everyone!
Mass production and consumption is no longer the privilege of Western countries. Industrialization has spread all over the globe. The possibility to produce large amounts of material goods, including food, forms an integral part of this change. Coupled with the growth of market-driven economies, many societies now enjoy the advantages of mass production and consumption in terms of accessibility to food and other goods at relatively low prices. The phenomenon of increased consumption of shark fin soup in Hong Kong and mainland China shows similarities with the fish'n chips story. Technical innovations helped fisheries in providing the basic ingredient in greater amounts, ensuring the commercialization of shark fin soup (Calgano 2013, 51). Between 2000 and 2011, the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) estimates that the shark fin market generated revenues around 377.8 million US (Dent and Clarke 2015, 1).
The problem with the increased consumption of shark fin soup in Hong Kong and mainland China is its ecological consequences. As with white fish fisheries, the scale of exploitation of the resource has had destructive effects on marine ecosystems. 4 This production now specifically targets many species of sharks (Gile et al. 2016), which is a new trend since sharks were traditionally caught as secondary catches. Both methods are still in use, but the ecological consequences are similar in all regions where the fisheries take place. Since sharks are predators, their disappearance, or a massive reduction in their population, creates a cascade effect on the food chain (Ferriti et al. 2010). Natural prey can proliferate and invade trophic niches, once freed from their predators. This phenomenon disrupts the fragile ecological balance of marine environments with consequences difficult to estimate on the long run. Moreover, shark finning, the practice of catching sharks solely to extract their fins, raises issues in terms of animal ethics. The sharks are brought on board, their fins are cut off, after which the animals are released, only to die from subsequent bleeding or suffocation (Fowler and Séret 2010, 4).

It's a Food Dog's Life
Western cultures entertain a powerful taboo on the consumption of dog meat. However, despite being "man's best friend," dog flesh is consumed in many Asian countries and there are records of dog eating in many places (Simoons 1967, 92ff). Although relatively marginal, dog meat eating sustains a market of nearly 30 million dogs slaughtered each year for their meat in Asia, with 10 to 20 million dogs in China alone, 2 million in South Korea and 5 million in Vietnam (Humane Society International 2016). Other estimates are more conservative and point towards 13 to 16 million dogs slaughtered annually for meat (Podberscek 2009, 617).
In South Korea, the consumption of dog meat is a controversial topic. International campaigns to ban the consumption of dog meat have spurred considerable negative media attention over the last decades (Lien 2004;Oh and Jackson 2011, 40ff) and local grassroots organisations have joined in the effort. For not only are the breeding conditions detrimental to animal health and welfare, leading to injury, physical disease, suffering and mental distress, but the methods of dog slaughter are violent (Czajkowski 2014, 33-36).
As Dugnoille testifies in his ethnographic account of dog meat consumption based on fieldwork at Seoul's largest meat market: At the farm, to maximize profit, dogs are kept in horrendous conditions and feed on their own feces, rotten food with antibiotics, and each other's remains. When taken to the market, only the healthiest looking individuals are held alive in cages, while the others are killed, kept refrigerated, and sold to customers for a lower price than live dogs (2018, 223).
There is no surprise in learning, therefore, that the generic breed of dogs from which meat is (although not exclusively) obtained, that is the yellow dog, is called ttonggae, which means literally "shit dog" (Dugnoille 2014, 3).
As for the way dogs are slaughtered, customary methods include beating the animal to death with metal pipes or hanging a live animal by the neck above a fire (Dugnoille 2017, 15). Such violent killing practices are technically forbidden in South Korea (Kim 2008, 208-209). However, as Dugnoille explains, "dog-meat consumers are pushy and wish to have their meat 'properly ' prepared" (2018, 218). Violence thus continues to be exercised against meat dogs because of customer demand (Dugnoille 2018, 223). 5 Respect for tradition encapsulates one common defence of contentious cultural food practices 6 . The consumption of dog meat is defended as an important feature of Korean culture and identity (Walraven 2002). The circumstances supporting the development of such a discourse are complex, involving a mix of historical events with a discursive tradition emphasising anger and violence as typical traits of Korean temperament (Dugnoille 2018, 223-224;Dugnoille 2014, 4). The defence of dog meat in contemporary South Korea emphasises "the 'cultural rights' of South Koreans to practice their traditional food ways, even if other cultures [view] those practices as offensive" (Oh and Jackson 2011, 33 and 43ff). Disapproval from Westerners is indeed unwelcomed and considered a manifestation of cultural imperialism (Kim 2008, 232-233;Wu 2002, 40). Shark fin soup remains a popular feature of gastronomic Chinese cuisine, although consumption has declined since 2006 following a series of interventions by public figures, the Wildaid organization and an important awareness campaign led by the mainland Chinese government aimed at public agencies and private corporations (Vallianos et al. 2018, 7). Its popularity has nevertheless moved to other Asian countries such as Thailand. A desire to emulate a food practice associated with prestige is part of the sociological explanation of the appeal for shark fin soup which is therefore defended as a traditional gourmet dish for special occasions such as weddings and business meetings (Vannuccini 1999, 6.2). Finally, the case of fish'n chips is different. It is so commonly accepted -or, in other words, imbedded in contemporary Western culture -that it does not trigger any form of serious ethical questioning. Issues of tradition, therefore, are latent, attesting to an ethical blind spot in the collective ethos. Were fish'n chips to gain explicit negative media attention, it is likely that respect for tradition would find its way into the debate -exactly as in the case against meat eating generally.
In the following sections, we will explore whether the argument of respect for tradition, or more precisely one version of the argument rooted in strict relativism, provides protection from ethical scrutiny, and can justify the continuance of cultural food practices criticized as being ethically objectionable.

The Explanatory Role of Customs and Traditions
Anthropologists have long observed the existence of great variability between what human groups consider as edible, or in other words between food inventories. Food sociologists attribute this diversity to culture (Harris 1998, 13-14).
According to Fischler, not everything that is biologically eatable is necessarily culturally comestible (2001,(25)(26)(27)(28)(29)(30)(31)(32). Societies have different food cultures; they have evolved dietary patterns that include culinary classifications through which food preferences and avoidances are determined (32-37). Food ways, understood as the customs and traditions relating to food and its preparation, do play a role in determining what is good to eat. Calling attention to customs and traditions as underlying food habits and food tastes is therefore accurate as a descriptive statement of fact.
For instance, in North America and Europe, we do not eat dogs and cats as a matter of culture; but under different circumstances (e.g., geopolitical history, social environment), maybe we would, just as we commonly dine on chickens and pigs. Culture thus provides an overall explanation for why people eat-and continue to eat-certain foods (and reject other food items).
Many culturally popular food items, such as serving pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving or strawberry shortcakes, homemade lemonade, or iced tea during the summer, are not disputed. We might feel disgust at the idea of eating foods uncommon to our culture or society (e.g., insects, sea cucumbers, algae, durian), but we understand that others might enjoy them, owing to their different food culture. However, among the array of food practices, some attract disapproval and are strongly condemned. This is the case for the consumption of animal products perceived to involve damaging effects on the environment or a high level of cruelty, like the examples introduced above which draw condemnation in complete dissociation with any attack on meat eating per se.
Inasmuch as the latter are regarded as displays of cultural traditions, they are considered as woven into the fabric of collective and individual identity, that is, as having cultural value. For that reason, as the case of dog meat powerfully illustrates, supporters often claim that we should just accept these traditional or cultural practices, and that "outsiders" (particularly) have no business in condemning and challenging them on ethical grounds (Wichert and Nussbaum 2017, 109). Under such a view, respect for tradition makes all cultural food practices immune to ethical scrutiny, no matter how cruel to animals or damaging for the environment.
But to hold such a view is to ignore the conceptual distinction between explanation and justification (Macklin 1999, 39-40, 59;Massé 2008, 110;Sandler 2015, 175;Shafer-Landau 2004, 120). As already mentioned, culture explains food ways. It provides reasons for their occurrence, as well as their persistence over time. Narratives are told about their origin, social representation, structural effect, symbolic dimensions, etc. that help us understand how these food practices came about and why they are still around.
For instance, in the case of fish'n chips, we know that it became popular during the 19th century in the British Isles. This cooking method, consisting of deep-frying pieces of white fish first dipped in batter, was apparently imported by Jewish immigrants, mostly coming from Spain (Panayi 2014, 109). Soon enough, it became very popular within the working classes of England's industrial neighbourhoods. It is cheap to make at home and can be sold right on the streets, not to mention its compatibility with British insular culture. Its popularity then spread all around the Western world and further. In some way, fish'n chips is the direct ancestor of fast food, reflecting the industrial culture of mass production and consumption (Walton 1992, 101).
Shark fin soup consumption in China shows similarities with the fish'n chips story, although it does not proceed from working class cuisine, but from the popularization of an aristocratic dish. Indeed, shark fin soup entered the official menu of refined imperial Chinese cuisine during the Ming Dynasty (14th to 16th century). At that time, the meal was qualified as a "treasure of the sea" for symbolic reasons attributable to the shark's status among sea creatures (Vannuccini 1999, 6.2). Despite its high price and the intricacies associated with its preparation, 7 shark fin soup became popular outside aristocratic circles during the last decades of the 20th century, with the rise of a middle-class population in mainland China and Hong Kong (Vannuccini 1999, 6.2.8). From a European point of view, serving shark fin soup as a starter is equivalent to serving caviar or foie gras: it says something about the host's culinary refinement and… wallet. With this spread of the middleclass population and the new availability of shark fin soup, Chinese citizens participate in a class affirmation ritual that was exclusive to a group of privileged elites in times now revolute.
The eating of dog meat dates back in Korea from more than two thousand years. It is generally associated with Confucianism, more precisely with "hot" food in the classification of food. It therefore belongs to the Confucian category of yang related to male character. This symbolic association classifies the consumption of dog meat as both food and medicine without distinction (Podberscek 2009, 619). In traditional Korean medicine, eating dog meat is 7 Page 8 of 17 depicted to counter the effects of heat during the summer, the idea being to "fight fire by fire" (622). However, dog meat is no longer a seasonal market product; it is consumed all year round (Dugnoille 2018, 218-219). The reason relates to the belief that dog meat increases "the level of stamina of the consumer, thereby increasing his/her sexual capabilities but also his/ her strength" (Dugnoille 2017, 14). While dog meat is fed to children to fortify their health (14-15), it is predominantly "connected to virility and the idea of enhancing one's sexual stamina, which explains why it is still mostly consumed by men during social group outings." (16) The violent slaughter methods are meant to ensure the desired effect by "tenderizing" the meat "while the animal is still alive (…) so as to increase the level of adrenaline in the blood." (15) Increasing meat dogs' adrenaline level in this manner is trusted to "confer more powerful virtues to the meat and then in turn to the consumer" (Dugnoille 2018, 222). Because dog meat is expensive, especially when the animal is bought alive and slaughtered at the market stall, and because it is associated with medicinal virtues, offering dog meat to family and guests has become a symbol of social status (227-229).
There is much more to say about the history of fish'n chips, shark fin soup and dog meat consumption, including the rationales underlying these cultural food practices. For their rich tales not only reach over multiple centuries, but also inform the social and political role of cultural food practices invested with symbolic meaning (Ariès 2016;Dugnoille 2018;Panayi 2014).
However, "[t]hat there is an explanation for how things came to be leaves open the question of whether things ought to be that way" (Sandler 2015, 175). Customs and traditions explain ethically objectionable food practices. However, whether ethically objectionable food practices should be maintained in the future calls for something other by means of justification. As Wichert and Nussbaum argue: [Appeals to culture] parade as if they [have] normative force, but they never tell us where that force is coming from. All sorts of bad practices are highly traditional: for example, domestic violence, child sexual abuse, and, of course, the torture of animals. The fact that these practices have been around for a long time is not a point in their favor. Many bad things are very old: for example, racism, patriarchy, and domestic violence. If tradition has a normative force, its defenders have to try harder to say what that force is (2017, 111).
Eating fish n' chips as a celebration of pub culture, shark fin soup as a social status affirmation ritual, or dog meat as a male bonding experience are all food practices rooted in tradition. Because of this, food enthusiasts sometimes find it difficult to imagine the ethical horizon upon which these food practices unfold, being oblivious to the issues raised. Others are aware of the issues but take refuge behind culture by presenting or directing to various narratives. Yet, when doing so, they are confusing the distinction between explanation and justification. Their argument, therefore, does not have the persuasive force intended.
The argument of respect for tradition also turns out to be unpersuasive when associated with cultural relativism, a theory according to which customs and traditions are normative in nature.

Cultural Relativism and the Argument of Respect for Tradition
The argument of respect for tradition unfolds on the backdrop of a longstanding and complex meta-ethical debate opposing ethical relativism and ethical objectivism (Shafer-Landau 2004). Not all appeals to food tradition are necessarily grounded in relativism. For instance, the argument of respect for tradition might take forms compatible with ethical objectivism but place overriding value on tradition or refuse that outsiders to a food culture have authority to critique a food practice because they cannot fully understand the ethical value that it has. 8 Although all appeals to food tradition should be critically discussed, we will focus on the relativist configuration of the argument as a plausible -and probably popular -version considering the appeal associated with its straightforwardness. In this section, we will argue in favour of an objective approach to food ethics in opposition to cultural relativism based on the possibility of moral progress. Our goal will not be to refute cultural relativism, nor prove ethical objectivism but to highlight logical weaknesses in the former that are better addressed in the latter.
As a form of ethical relativism, 9 cultural relativism is "[t]he view that an act is morally right just because it is allowed by the guiding ideals of the society in which it is performed, and immoral just because it is forbidden by those ideals" (Shafer-Landau 2018. G-2). According to cultural relativism, "right and wrong, good and bad, and so on are determined by the standards of particular cultures or societies" (Horsthemke 2017, 124). It follows that "[t]here is no morality that is universal and that exists as an abstract set of principles, guidelines or laws (i.e., non-empirically), outside of a particular historical and institutional context and outside or beyond social or cultural tradition" (125). In other words, according to cultural relativism, ethical norms, rules, and standards are purely cultural and, hence, it is impossible to establish objective universal ethical norms.
Although cultural relativism permeates the ambient discourse on several issues well summarized in the debate on multiculturalism in modern states (Kymlicka 1995, 1-2), its implications are problematic and lay the groundwork for critique (Shafer-Landau 2018, 296-300; Shafer-Landau 2004, 15ff). A thorough exposition of all criticisms addressed to cultural relativism is impossible here, since it would take us beyond the goal of this article. Nevertheless, we will succinctly introduce three arguments that challenge the validity, or practical implications, of such a position.
First, from the simple point of view of logic, one implausible consequence of cultural relativism is that it makes societies morally infallible or incapable of error as far as core moral commitments are concerned. Shafer-Landau explains that the problem "is that the ultimate moral principles [fixed by each society] can be based on prejudice, ignorance, superficial thinking, or brainwashing, and still be correct" (2018,298). Under cultural relativism, ideals such as ethnic oppression, male domination or religious bigotry are as morally compelling as values like social cohesion, gender equality or fairness. What is more, they are equivalent with one another. It follows that "when it comes to evaluating the basic codes of each society, relativists must allow that every code is equally good." (299) There is consequently no room for evaluating, praising, or disapproving from an outside perspective the guiding ideals, values or principles underlying the social or cultural tradition of a given society, for all social codes are of equal ethical merit. Cultural relativism imposes 7 Page 10 of 17 respect for other cultures, but at an important cost: it eliminates all possibilities of judging and appraising their components.
Secondly, the same logical consequence applies internally given that cultural relativism also leaves no space for questioning the moral standards of one's own society, since the latter are correct, and thus undisputable. This is not to say that cultures never change; they do continually and in many ways (e.g., for institutional, geopolitical, economical, and environmental reasons). However, the notion of moral progress (or regression) does not apply to the relativist outlook. If a society's core moral commitments are true by definition, "then they cannot change for the better. They can change, of course. But no such change would mark a moral improvement" (300). It follows from cultural relativism that any change witnessed within a society is always cultural at first, and that ethical principles are replaced or revised only because of a cultural change, the other way around being impossible.
Thirdly, as a result, cultural relativism introduces a strong bias in favour of status quo that tends to enclose societies into unalterable cultural identities. This status quo has important anthropological, if not political, consequences. Cultural relativism is indeed associated with an essentialist representation of cultures, seen as "stable, empirically observable and definable entities, available for consensual interpretations" (Massé 2008, 105 our translation). Immobilised in space and time, the notion of culture so conceived is adept in sustaining crystallised views of others, portrayed in caricatured traits (105-106).
Thus, cultural relativism not only presents logical flaws, but it also relates to a vision of culture that may not be entirely true. With respect to food ways, cultural relativism offers no possibility of calling into question, from an ethical perspective, any cultural food practices considered questionable. As Sandler illustrates: According to cultural relativism, whether it is ethically acceptable to eat foie gras depends upon whether eating foie gras is part of one's cultural practices. If it is widely acceptable and historically done, then it is ethically acceptable to do it (2015,176).
Although the strong ties that exist between culture and ethical principles cannot be denied, another theoretical position admits the exercise of moral judgement when confronted with problematic cultural food practices. This is ethical objectivism.
Ethical objectivism is a theory "that claims that there are correct moral standards, and that these standards are true independently of what anyone, anywhere, thinks of them" (Shafer-Landau 2004, 146). In other words, such a theory implies that a certain set of moral claims are always true and that these claims can be known, or maybe discovered, by rational beings such as humans. Furthermore, these true moral claims might not be compatible with certain cultural behaviours. In such circumstances, we should be willing to change our cultural behaviours to conform to the objective moral truth. Of course, being an ethical objectivist is incompatible with any type of extreme cultural relativism.
The most well-known theory of ethical objectivity is certainly Immanuel Kant's theory of deontological ethics developed in his Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals (1964). Written at the height of the German enlightenment period, Kant's moral system is based on the existence of obligations preceding all practical rules of human conduct, which he describes as a "moral law." According to Kant, as rational beings, we can search and discover moral principles and laws that should determine our practical ethics. Moreover, these principles and laws, being a priori, are superior to our daily cultural practices and should be implemented even if they come in contradiction with them (Kant 1964, 57).
The notion of "duty" is at the core of Kant's objective moral system. In fact, Kant argues that a true moral action can only be performed "for the sake of duty" (Kant 1964, 65). That being the case, although actions may accidentally conform to duty, they should not be considered true moral actions per se. For example, if I consider eating animals to be contrary to duty and consequently voluntarily evade such a practice, I am acting "for the sake of duty." However, if I live in a society wherein custom tells me to eschew meat consumption because it is impractical for economic reasons and that I follow this rule, I am not acting morally in a Kantian perspective. The reason is that moral action must proceed from a "good will" (Kant 1964, 64) that accepts duties and acts for the sake of them, independently of any personal interests or practical or even cultural determinations.
This theoretical perspective undermines the idea that culture cannot be judged objectively from an ethical standpoint. Under Kantianism, it is possible, as well as advisable, to evaluate customs and traditions to insure conformity to moral duties. For instance, if cruelty to animals is considered to be wrong, then it is logically obligatory to condemn cultural practices involving animal cruelty, even if this implies questioning minority rights granted by the state in keeping with religious traditions or local cultures (Casal 2003, 2). Tolerance might be invoked in reply, but as well said by Massé: "Why should tolerance, the key-value of ethical relativism, become the absolute principle guiding our relations to others?" (2008, 107 our translation).
The main advantage of ethical objectivism as Kant first theorized it is the possibility for moral progress. Indeed, since knowledge of the moral law proceeds from reason, there is nothing keeping our understanding of this law from evolving over time, in the same way as our knowledge of, say, physical laws has increased in the last century.
A good example may be found in the recent flourishing of ethical thinking concerning the treatment of animals and the environment. Whether theories of animal ethics are inspired by Kant or by other ethical traditions, they all rely on the assumption that our understanding of the ethical dimension of animal life has progressed and that we must adapt our ethical standards accordingly. Authors like Peter Singer (1990 c. pl;l'lll) and Tom Reagan (1983) have challenged our cultural practices on the ground of moral progress, arguing for a better treatment of animals as a matter of justice. Both authors would disapprove of the cruel practices associated with dog meat consumption in South Korea.
As far as the environment is concerned, the last fifty years have marked an equally important calling into question of our ethical relation to the natural world. Various theories have been proposed, ranging from ecocentrism (Callicott 1999) to biocentrism (Naess 1989;Rolston 1994). The idea of sustainable development also brings under scrutiny many culturally embedded ways of living. These perspectives all suggest a form of respect for the integrity or sustainability of the environment. The problematic aspect of the consumption of fish'n chips and shark fin soup from an ethical standpoint relates in both cases to the mass scale intervention in ecosystems that they necessitate. Woven into the daily life of mainstream culture, industrialization and mass production have brought in abundance the fruits of Taylorism 10 to our plates (Fumey 2007, 73). They have also exported devastating capture practices all over the planet's oceans as food production was transformed.
The cultural food practices described earlier (see second section) all make sense within the confines of deeply ingrained customary habits or longstanding traditions. Judging them from a cultural relativist point of view is theoretically impossible. However, from an ethical 10 The concept of Taylorism, from Frederick Winslow Taylor , refers to a highly productive management strategy based on the separation of conception and execution activities on production sites. One of its main strategies is the 'detailed division of labor' by which the workers' tasks are broken down into routines actions following a detailed scientific analysis of the production process (Pruijt 1997, 3).
7 Page 12 of 17 objectivist perspective, they may be challenged. For the time being, there is no perfectly universal ethical standard from which to look upon the examples presented. However, developments in ethical theory are to be hoped for progressing towards better rational ethical norms and standards (Shafer-Landau 2004, 124).

Outline of an Acceptability Test
Whether they are consciously enacted or routinely performed, customs and traditions play an important part in our lives. For not only do they shape our social behaviours, but they also provide meaning to our actions. Offering presents on occasions such as birthdays, weddings or Christmas Day is a well-known example of a cultural ritual. Although the gifts are tendered out of praxis, they nevertheless express important forms of gratitude and respect for others, as they also strengthen the bounds between individuals.
The same logic applies to food customs and traditions. Eating certain foods on specific occasions, for instance, is a common feature among societies that carries significant ethical meaning connected with a sense of community belonging, solidarity with one's heritage and loyalty to others, all-important dimensions in leading a worthwhile existence. Food is therefore a central vehicle of meaning (Telfer 1996, 37ff). As Csergo argues, "food is a cultural domain through which we affirm our identities, distinguish one community from another, and affirm our allegiances" (Csergo 2018, 453). According to this, cultural food practices are worth of respect and consideration. But nevertheless, from an ethical objectivist point of view, one is allowed to question the moral justifications of cultural practices, since they are only empirically justified.
Under the Convention for the Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage (UNESCO 2003), Csergo shows that food ways, ranging from obtaining raw materials to the act of consumption, are recognised as a form of intangible cultural heritage (ICH) and that "a careful examination of the [UNESCO's ICH lists] reveals a panoply of references to food" (2018,451). What is at stake in each of these inscriptions is "ensuring the viability of a given cultural heritage -that is to say, its sustainability and its transmission to future generations" (457).
However, as Cergo also notes, food culture is increasingly subservient to a flourishing economy of cultural diversity aimed at promoting tourism and international trade (2018,460). For instance, dog meat consumption is promoted to international tourists as a "must" in experiencing the taste of Korean cuisine (Oh and Jackson 2011, 32;Dugnoille 2018, 230 note 2), and within the country it has acquired the status of gastronomic commodity independently of its perceived medicinal virtues (Dugnoille 2017, 15). Food customs and traditions can thus fall prey to instrumentalization and become aggressively marketed as commercial goods to be purchased and consumed in the global marketplace. In such a context, cultural food practices run the risk of becoming icons of an artificial kitsch culture created for mass consumption in high-rise towers or by wise local businesspeople, blurring the lines between genuine and fake 11 . Such a muddying effect is not necessarily troublesome and reprehensible, but it does point in the direction of caution when it comes to the argument from tradition. Indeed, not all food practices are likely to stand equal on the scale of food culture. Some will be worth safeguarding and accordingly will have normative significance; others will be devoid of such value and, for that reason, will not fall under the scope of the argument. Demonstrating perspicacity and exercising judgement when confronted with claims regarding culturally embedded food practices is therefore important, especially when considering what may be ethically problematic cultural food practices.
Among the criteria to be contemplated when it comes to assessing the normative significance of customs or traditions, Macklin proposes that "one way of locating the importance of cultural traditions on the moral landscape is to subject particular traditions to the test of fundamental ethical principles" (1999,58). Is the tradition oppressive? Does it produce more harm than benefits? Does it involve coercion of individuals? These questions refer to values or principles (i.e., justice, utility, and respect for persons) that can and do serve as universal moral yardsticks (59). As Macklin acknowledges, "this still leaves open the possibility that 'respect for tradition' could be justified by an appeal to a fundamental ethical principle if one were found to be applicable" (59). However, this possibility coincides with the modified form of ethical relativism that she supports-namely, moderate in the prescriptive role customs and traditions can play.
Macklin's discussion builds on a humanist, or anthropocentric, perspective centred on the promotion of human rights and dignity. However, the developments that occurred in animal and environmental ethics over the last 50 years suggest that fundamental ethical principles based on animal welfare or ecosystem sustainability are legitimate benchmarks against which customs and traditions may be assessed. For instance, the practical concerns about the environmental consequences of mass fisheries of white fish and sharks are not to be ignored (Ferreti et al. 2010;Frank et al. 2005). In fact, it is now common knowledge that we humans, as individuals or social groups, do depend on the quality and the sustainability of our surrounding ecosystems.
Eschewing direct arguments objectionable to cultural relativists, Sandler uses a criterion like Macklin's-although not restricted to humanism. To decide whether a cultural food practice is ethically normative, he suggests considering the level of importance of the ethical considerations that are compromised by the tradition and the extent to which they are impaired (Sandler 2015, 183).
Only a detailed and neutral examination of cultural food practices may enable one to determine whether they can be ethically justified by the factors sustaining them (Macklin 1999, 59). A negative determination is easier to articulate whenever a society recognises the ethical perspective from which its food custom or tradition is reproved. Under such circumstances, one simply must draw attention to the blind spot represented by the food practice under scrutiny (20). A negative determination should also occur if there is a way of preserving the core of a cultural food practice, while losing its questionable features (Sandler 2015, 183;Wichert and Nussbaum 2017, 113).
Finally, contrary to the essentialist bias of ethical relativism, cultures are questioned and challenged from the inside; they evolve under social and political tensions (Massé 2008, 105). The existence of regional grassroots organisations advocating for reform speaks to this point. Their activism reflects ongoing cultural change or is telling of a struggle to that effect (Macklin 1999, 65). Therefore, apart from the special case of indigenous peoples whose culture is already under threat to the point of irreparable disruption or destruction, it is hard to see why any food practice should be envisaged as static to begin with (Wichert and Nussbaum 2017, 112). The central aspect to consider is the importance of the food practice under scrutiny for cultural identity and cultural value (Sandler 2015, 183).
Over the last twenty years or so, reactions to international protests to the consumption of dog meat in South Korea have combined into a discourse carrying strong nationalistic connotations aimed at protecting this food practice as a symbol of national pride. However, South Koreans harbour a growing anti-dog-meat sentiment and Korean grassroots organisations condemn dog meat practices (Oh and Jackson, 2011;Dugnoille, 2014). Within the country, dissonance thus exits on the issue. What is more, opposition to dog meat finds anchor within Confucian philosophy, a moral system able to justify concern over animal welfare (Dugnoille 2014, 4;Dugnoille 2017, 13-15). South Korea has also adopted legislation to prevent cruelty to animals (Global Animal Law 2017), therewith implicitly recognising animal welfare as a legitimate ethical principle. Under the Animal Protection Act, cruel methods of killing (e.g., hanging by the neck) are even prohibited (art. 8(1)1). Such a situation limits the normative or prescriptive weight of tradition in the context of dog meat eating.
This is especially the case considering the inhumane breeding conditions and violent slaughter practices under which the consumption of dog meat takes place in South Korea. Whereas the welfare of dogs is compromised to a considerable extent, no tangible benefits accrue from this food practice aside from gratifying specious beliefs and reinforcing the symbolic value of dog meat.
In reply, defenders of dog meat may well invoke their "cultural rights" as an acknowledged universal ethical principle justifying respect of their food practice. However, according to Kymlicka, such rights "are not understood in international law as exempting specific practices from moral accountability" (2017, 296 note 1).
It seems, therefore, that cultural considerations do not immune the consumption of dog meat from ethical criticism. The fact that violent slaughter methods are believed to be required for the virtues associated with the consumption of dog meat to manifest themselves reinforces this conclusion. Even if breeding conditions were reformed with a view to protecting animal welfare fully, meat dogs would still need to be tormented. For violence is a marker of the "quality" of dog meat. This feature distinguishes dog meat eating from probably most other forms of meat consumption. The latter may involve their lot of injury, disease, physical and mental suffering ensuing from breeding, transport, or slaughter conditions, but the possibility to eliminate these detrimental effects always remains open. In consequence, Westerners who condemn the consumption of dog meat in South Korea are shielded from the charge of hypocrisy-unless they do not also call into question the conditions operating in livestock production systems in the occidental world.

Conclusion
In this article, we have argued that an appeal to tradition cannot justify all cultural food practices. The examples we have chosen were meant to exemplify the extent to which food customs and traditions can be defined as ethically problematic. Animal cruelty and environmentally damaging practices are highly different in nature, but they point towards the necessity to reflect on traditions. First, although traditions are constitutive of cultural identities and explain why we act, or eat, the way we do, they do not necessarily justify these practices. Secondly, we have identified cultural relativism as one possible theoretical standpoint from which traditions can be accepted as justifications for cruel or environmentally harmful practices. However, cultural relativism carries logical flaws and epistemological errors, making it an incomplete tool in terms of ethical assessment. Finally, we have presented an outline of what could be a valid evaluation method for ethically questionable food practices inspired by an open-minded ethical objectivism taking into account the possibility for moral progress.
The ethical evaluation of cultural practices will always trigger resistance from strict ethical relativists or strong critics of cultural imperialism, and we should remember that this resistance is not solely based on a simplistic idea of ethics. For ethical relativists, there is a real danger to shift from a reasonable, open-minded, and progressive questioning to a narrow-minded form of ethical ethnocentrism rooted in cultural imperialism (Massé 2008, 104). Our argument is not addressed to those who would consider moral objectivity logically flawed in the first place or necessarily unjust in its epistemological perspective. We think it possible to make objective ethical assessments of other cultures-and therefore judge cultural food practices -with intellectual humility and a deep respect for difference and plurality. The line might be difficult to draw between these two outcomes and any good-faith researcher might one day feel to have fallen on the wrong side. Being objective and open to cultural difference is no easy task. It requires objectifying oneself as much as it demands judging others. However, doesn't moral progress suggest that such an ethos can be defined and practiced? Questioning cultural food practices cannot be achieved without remembering this problem, which transcends all ethical observations and speculations. Furthermore, the complexity of cultural practices will always be an obstacle to whomever desires to achieve a perfect and clear judgement. To acknowledge this reality means to accept the multidisciplinary nature of ethical assessments and, as we understand it, can only be an opportunity to better understand the world.