Adrienne de Ruiter’s Dehumanization in the Global Migration Crisis offers a timely analysis of how denials of humanity enable the most reprehensible forms of moral exclusion. De Ruiter’s main goal is to clarify conceptually what dehumanization entails, which is supported by her book’s examination of the experiences of refugees, asylum seekers, and migrants. The book is situated amid contending definitions of dehumanization, such as the denial of a person’s rich mental life, that they have a subhuman essence, and the harming of fundamental human interests (p. 8). Others claim that the language of dehumanization should be taken less literally, arguing that it is a discursive tool to encourage moral disengagement. The common denominator is that these phenomena enable uniquely severe injustices (p. 8). De Ruiter contributes to the moral philosophy literature by giving a more precise account of the term. She argues that dehumanization entails the exclusion of a person from the moral category of human whereby their experiences and feelings are given no moral consideration (p. 5). The upshot is that this definition distinguishes treatment that expels persons altogether from the moral category of human from treatment that ascribes persons a lower status within that category. This narrower definition of dehumanization gives a clearer understanding of the rationale that enables the most reprehensible wrongs.

De Ruiter’s conceptual analysis is enhanced by her examination of interviews she conducted with asylum seekers and refugees in Germany, Italy, and Lebanon, and secondary literature providing accounts of migrant testimonies. The personal experiences of migrants elucidate the book’s abstract arguments by providing concrete accounts of dehumanization. This further shows what is at stake for them amid contentious debates on the migration crisis. While much international relations scholarship evaluates these issues from the standpoint of state interest and public security or welfare, de Ruiter sheds light on the moral vulnerability of migrants. This approach will appeal to normative international relations theorists and scholars who are interested in investigating the obligations that are owed to migrants and the solutions that are most effective in countering their dehumanization.

To demonstrate the unique features of dehumanization, de Ruiter distinguishes between it and a related phenomenon: “infra-humanization.” The latter is when people are perceived and/or treated as less human instead of less than human (p. 28). She argues that several wrongs such as marginalization, stigmatization, and criminalization are compatible with the perception that the victim belongs to the moral category of human but holds a lower status within that category. These perceptions, de Ruiter claims, are qualitatively different from those that outright deny a person’s humanity, rejecting any and all protections that the moral status of being human offers. Emphasizing these conceptual distinctions successfully demonstrates that dehumanization is a radical form of moral exclusion that leaves persons vulnerable to the most reprehensible wrongs. The upshot of de Ruiter’s narrow definition of dehumanization is that she claims it is less common than generally assumed, but far worse than often thought (p. 5).

De Ruiter’s analysis of animalization and objectification clarifies further the unique logics underpinning dehumanization. The animalization of migrants—illustrated by testimonies of detainees at a Libyan migrant processing center whereby their abusive treatment was accompanied by guards referring to them as dogs and donkeys (p. 47)—is a common way in which they are dehumanized. De Ruiter argues that dehumanized persons are not usually viewed as animals in a literal sense but rather metaphorically, signifying their subhuman moral status (p. 70). This supports the book’s thesis by affirming that dehumanizing forms of animalization are salient insofar as they expel persons from the “moral community” of humans. De Ruiter does not contend that animalization is inherently dehumanizing, as animal comparisons can be used in a derogatory way without denying one’s moral status as human (such as referring to someone as a “chicken”) (p. 51). Yet, she remarks that many notorious cases of dehumanization have involved animalizing depictions, such as the Tutsis being referred to as cockroaches during the Rwanda genocide (p. 49).

Similarly, objectification is not inherently dehumanizing but is a potent method of dehumanization. De Ruiter examines cases in which migrants are compared to inanimate objects, suggesting that they are mere objects or things that cannot be bearers of moral concern (p. 96). A particularly insidious form of objectification that de Ruiter examines is when migrants are labeled as garbage or waste, because it evokes disgust and moral disengagement (p. 83–84). Since objects do not have subjective experiences, such as thoughts and emotions, de Ruiter claims objectification is unique, because it tends to motivate indifference rather than hatred (p. 96). While the term hatred may be used colloquially in reference to inanimate entities, it is understood as a moral emotion by philosophers such as P. F. Strawson and R. Jay Wallace, whereby it is directed toward morally accountable agents. As a moral emotion, hatred not only entails negative feelings but also implies a moral evaluation condemning blameworthy persons who deserve contempt. It is difficult to direct such an emotion toward actual garbage. This potentially sheds light on the lack of emotional connection that some persons display to displaced persons attempting to enter their country.

Nevertheless, de Ruiter remarks that dehumanization seems to more frequently involve an engagement with the victim’s human subjectivity. She addresses the so-called paradox of dehumanization, a perplexing problem in the literature on moral philosophy and psychology. Dehumanizing treatment often presupposes the perpetrator’s awareness of their victim’s humanity, which in some cases explains why certain forms of abuse are chosen. Torture, which de Ruiter claims is de facto dehumanizing (p. 152), depends on the victim’s capability for suffering and experiencing complex feelings of humiliation that require a sense of self-awareness. This implies that torturers are aware of their victims’ human subjectivity but do not ascribe it as having any moral significance (p. 132). Even though dehumanizers might acknowledge their victims’ human traits, these traits do not confer to the victim any protection that is acquired by the moral label of human such as human rights or moral duties. This is a valuable argument that resolves aspects of the paradox of dehumanization. It demonstrates that reprehensible actions are not motivated by a lack of recognition of human features but rather by a lack of any moral consideration for those features.

However, there are other aspects of this paradox that de Ruiter does not consider fully. She remarks that dehumanizers often express intense anger at their victims (p. 96), but these cases suggest an implicit recognition of the victim’s moral status. Resentment, for instance, is understood by moral philosophers like P. F. Strawson, R. Jay Wallace, and Martha Nussbaum as the anger that a person experiences when they perceive themselves to have suffered a moral injury. Genocide, an inherently dehumanizing injustice, appears to be commonly accompanied by these feelings of anger whereby perpetrators righteously view themselves as victimized by the group they seek to exterminate. These attitudes presuppose that the dehumanized can morally wrong the dehumanizer, suggesting that the former are perceived by the latter as morally accountable agents and thus a member of their moral community. A person cannot rationally feel moral outrage toward someone devoid of moral significance. This recognition of the dehumanized victim’s moral status might occur implicitly and simultaneously with the explicit belief that the victim is not part of the moral community of humans. But it indicates that dehumanization entails cognitive dissonance.

The problem of cognitive dissonance raises some difficulties in determining the point at which a person perceives someone in a dehumanizing or infra-humanizing way. De Ruiter acknowledges the difficulty of this task but claims it can be done by closely examining a perpetrator’s speech, attitudes, and actions (p. 152). But I argue that if even the most reprehensible wrongs often convey some recognition of the victim’s moral status through emotions like resentment, then we should be cautious about always drawing a strong line between dehumanization and infra-humanization. De Ruiter claims that broad uses of the term dehumanization risk undermining its severity (p. 28). However, I contend that applying it in a perfectly precise manner also seems implausible due to our epistemic limitations, which are exacerbated by seemingly overlapping features between dehumanizing and infra-humanizing behavior (that is, the implicit recognition of the victim’s moral status). Demanding perfect precision can also inadvertently undermine the severity of grey zone cases. This is relevant in the context of the migration crisis, in which labels like “criminal” might not be evidently dehumanizing but leave migrants vulnerable to severe injustices that may, in practice, be similar to dehumanization. Perhaps, rather than the binary suggested by de Ruiter, cases of dehumanization are best evaluated along a spectrum of moral degradation where wrongs become far more reprehensible the more someone is perceived as lacking moral status as a person.

These critiques, however, do not undermine de Ruiter’s thesis that dehumanization is a severe wrong that denies a person’s moral status as a human, and that the exclusion from the moral category of human leaves persons highly vulnerable. De Ruiter has produced a thought-provoking project that addresses the complex moral dynamics of dehumanization and its normative implications for migrants.