The Beef Taboo is the long-awaited English translation of Vincent Goossaert’s groundbreaking 2005 monograph L’interdit du bœuf en Chine: Agriculture, éthique et sacrifice. Footnote ¹ For almost twenty years, only a very condensed version of his analysis was available to non-Francophone readers, in a brief 2005 book chapter that summarizes some observations on the late imperial history of the beef taboo.Footnote ² Thanks to Barbara Ambros’s excellent, accessible, and highly readable translation, Goossaert’s entire argument can now reach a broader readership. The English translation has been slightly updated to reflect recent scholarship and correct minor errors, but it is not an entirely revised version. I think that this is a reasonable decision, because it allows readers to grasp Goossaert’s initial analysis.

The Beef Taboo explores a topic that has received little attention in academic scholarship, despite its significance as a moral, economic, political, and religious issue in premodern China. According to Goossaert, this negligence has many causes. For instance, many earlier scholars have subsumed the beef taboo under the broader category of vegetarianism and, therefore, assumed Buddhist and, ultimately, Indian origins. In addition, oversight seems closely tied to the history of the disciplines of Chinese History and Religious Studies, especially in Chinese-language research. Their epistemological frameworks and conceptual tools have prioritized philosophical and political aspects of late imperial Confucianism without paying attention to what Goossaert calls “moral activism” through the dissemination of morality books (shanshu 善書) (175–80). It is precisely Goossaert’s comprehensive and innovative exploration of the beef taboo from multiple perspectives that makes it a must-read for scholars from diverse disciplines, including religion, ethics, economics, politics, literature, and human–animal studies.

“Beef taboo” is Goossaert’s rendering of the Chinese term niujie 牛戒, which literally means the “prohibition of bovines.” In the introduction (4–9), he carefully explains this rendering. Partly drawing on Mary Douglas’ classic interpretation, he argues that a taboo “refers to a prohibition whose transgression involves a danger” (7) and defilement. In the case of the Chinese beef taboo, three main points intersect. First, the consumption of beef is considered to affect someone’s ritual purity. The anecdotal references Goossaert provides, from the Song period to the late Qing, present various examples of beefeaters being denied access to temples or facing retribution for their deeds, including unfavorable reincarnations, failing civil service examinations, illness, and violent death. Second, the term “taboo” implies a high level of respect and a rarity of transgression. Countless stories are mentioned, many of which involve deeply internalized feelings of discomfort and disgust at the idea of consuming beef. Even today, Goossaert recounts, some of his Taiwanese friends revealed that their parents asked on their deathbed that they swear never to eat beef. Finally, in line with a Durkheimian understanding, Goossaert argues that the beef taboo discourse presented bovines as both sacred and prohibited, as they were loved, revered, and set aside. Therefore, he claims that it is appropriate to conceptualize transgressions against the taboo as a “sin” (2, 79–81).

Accordingly, Goossaert views the Chinese beef taboo as very different from Jewish and Islamic prohibitions of pork, which is considered non-edible because of a perceived impurity. By contrast, in premodern Chinese culture, bovines were treated as almost human companions to whom one was expected to show gratitude for their bitter toil of plowing the fields. The appreciation and sacralization (my term) of bovines immediately bring to mind the notion of the “sacred cow” in Hindu culture. Diverging from earlier assumptions, however, Goossaert argues that the two are not related, due to two primary differences (210–11). First, the Chinese discourse did not distinguish between different kinds of bovines. The taboo included both of the two chief species most widespread in China, the “yellow ox” (huangniu 黃牛, the genus bubalus) prevalent in the north and the water buffalo (shuiniu 水牛, bubalus bubalis) in the south. By contrast, the Indian restriction applies only to the zebu (another genus, bos indicus), not to water buffaloes. Secondly, whereas Hindu culture considers dairy products the bovine’s nourishing gift to humankind, in China dairy products played no role in the taboo (even though they were not entirely absent in late imperial Chinese cuisines).Footnote ³ Despite these differences, in both India and China, living bovines were revered, whereas the flesh of dead animals was prohibited (9).

I wonder whether “bovine taboo” would be a more inclusive English rendering than “beef taboo.” The word “beef” (and the plural form “beeves”) in English can refer to full-grown or nearly full-grown oxen, cows, and bulls as well, but “beef” is most commonly associated with bovine meat. Even though the prohibition on beef consumption lies at the heart of the taboo, the discourse was not limited to food but also included practices of maltreatment, including abuse, slaughter, and failure to provide proper burial. The niujie discourse ultimately urged people to cherish and treat bovines with utmost respect and reverence, even after they died. Old animals unfit for the demanding labor in the fields were not supposed to be sold and slaughtered, but to be handed over to cattle sanctuaries, often affiliated with Buddhist monasteries. Observant practitioners of the taboo also used no products made from dead cattle, such as leather. Some of the primary sources introduced in the book clearly state that people who wore leather would receive divine punishment, and that Daoist temples did not use candles made from ox tallow (186, 188). Finally, the more comprehensive translation “bovine taboo” would also more literally translate the Chinese term niujie.

The main argument of the book concerns how the beef taboo, as a distinct yet shared discourse, became widely accepted. The taboo was not exclusively related to any of the Three Teachings (Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism)—unlike permanent vegetarianism, which was overwhelmingly (but not exclusively) interpreted in Buddhist terms; rather the discourse was a part of what Goossaert calls “Chinese religion,” i.e., a set of religious and moral symbols, ideas, values, and practices widely shared in premodern Chinese society regardless of one’s own religious affiliation (as a Confucian, Buddhist, Daoist, or none) (50–52). The observation underscores the significance of religious ideas and practices in premodern Chinese culture beyond organized and well-institutionalized religions.

The book offers a multicausal explanation of the emergence of the taboo, drawing on many, wide-ranging sources, including religious, philosophical, and political texts, laws, government records, notebooks (biji 筆記), novels, plays, local gazetteers, newspapers, village rules, and many more genres. Whereas the first two chapters explore the early, and ambiguous, history of bovines in political, economic, and religious discourses and practices up to the tenth century, Chapters 3–5 focus on the beef taboo as a coherent normative discourse, with some evidence on actual practice. Because of the readier availability of source material, the discussion focuses on the Ming and Qing eras.

Chapter 1 (“Animals, Meat, and Sacrifice in China”) explores the ethical and religious concerns surrounding two main opposing logics at work, which developed simultaneously. First is the fundamental understanding that humans and animals belong to the same moral cosmos, so benevolence should extend to animals. By contrast, second, since antiquity, meat offerings have played a crucial part in Chinese religion, which Goossaert considers a fundamentally sacrificial religion. Since ancient times, bovines have been considered the ideal and most valued sacrificial animals. Even though both Daoists and Buddhists implemented “sacrificial revolutions” by limiting or even abolishing bloody sacrifices, they had only mixed success in the broader Chinese religious landscape. According to Goossaert, Buddhist vegetarianism remained a distinct discourse from the beef taboo. Even though the two discourses shared some elements, their logic was different. Whereas the discourse on vegetarianism was closely linked to the Buddhist concept of non-killing, which extends to all sentient beings, the beef taboo discourse was informed by a utilitarian ethical framework that favored some animals over others. In the book’s conclusion, Goossaert suggests that a similar logic was employed in other sociohistorical contexts, especially premodern Europe, to explain why the meat of certain animals, such as horses, was considered inedible.

Chapter 2 (“Chinese Cattle as Political Animals”) examines the role of cattle in the premodern rural economy to explain both their significance in peasants’ lives and the need for precautionary measures implemented by the state. Because of their use as working animals in agriculture, especially for plowing, the use of cattle for meat or other products steadily decreased after the Han period, creating a system in which working cattle were an indispensable economic asset. Recognizing the vulnerability of the herds to theft, disease, and famine, the Han state implemented a “bovine policy,” abolished only in 1912, to protect cattle and their owners through registration, through distribution to poor peasants, and, most notably, through the legal prohibition against slaughter. The policy and the taboo, Goossaert insists, are not identical: beef consumption was not banned by law, but meat could be legally obtained from animals too old or sick to work, or from those that died naturally, provided the owner secured an official certification of the natural cause of death. One important aspect of the “bovine policy” was the decrease and limitation of cattle sacrifice and beef consumption. While large herds in the north disappeared after the Song, imperial households still maintained herds, usually not for consumption (as many emperors banned beef from imperial banquets), but for sacrifices. In line with classical canonical texts, cattle remained the most highly valued sacrificial animal (tailao 太牢) and were reserved for a small number of imperial rituals, especially those linked to Heaven, imperial ancestors, and Confucius. Leather and other bovine products were also used for military purposes, but the evidence suggests that this was far more common until the Song (57).

Chapter 3 (“The Revelation of a New Sin”) analyzes the emergence of the taboo in the Song period. The taboo differed from the state’s bovine laws and Buddhist and Daoist teachings in that it emerged in anecdotes and miracle tales not linked exclusively to any particular religious doctrine. These stories condemn eating beef as a sin, frequently revealed to protagonists through terrifying dreams or visits to the underworld, where the bureaucracy punished beefeaters for their transgressions. To seek pardon or avoid retribution, the perpetrators were typically required to take a solemn vow of abstinence, underscoring the personal and soteriological nature of the taboo. According to Goossaert, the taboo gained legitimacy through the notion that cattle possessed immense, uncompensated merit for their indispensable agricultural labor, rendering their consumption an intolerable act of ingratitude. This idea links back to the discussion in Chapter 1 on the inseparable moral cosmos shared by humans and animals. Most likely through Daoism, the taboo also became associated with concepts of ritual purity and defilement. Goossaert introduces stories of beefeaters who became vulnerable to demonic forces or epidemic disease, while those who maintained their vow were protected. Daoist revelations, particularly those related to the increasingly popular exorcistic deity Zhenwu 真武 (alias Xuantian Shangdi 玄天上帝), and including spirit-writing (fuluan 扶鸞, fuji 扶乩) and dreams, played a crucial role in the emergence of the taboo discourse, and they continued to do so in the morality book genre.

Chapter 4 (“The Beef Taboo and Late Imperial Chinese Ethics”) traces the evolution of the taboo in Ming- and Qing-period morality books, the primary medium for the transmission of what Goossaert calls “late imperial Chinese ethics.” He argues that these texts, many of which were authored through spirit-writing by deities, such as Guandi 關帝 and Wenchang 文昌, made the beef taboo into an undisputed moral and religious norm. These texts incorporated the elements of the taboo into a comprehensive and compelling moral discourse grounded in moral duty, ideas of purity and defilement, and an ethical framework of retribution, threats of divine punishment, and merit accumulation. In addition, new themes appeared, such as the topos of the “lamentation of the pitiful bovine,” in which bovines reported their mistreatment in the first person, using sentimental language to appeal to readers’ gratitude and moral duty toward working animals. Goossaert argues that the inclusion of the taboo in morality books cemented its status as a core value of Chinese civilization, often paired with the injunction against throwing away written characters (xizi 惜字), which was considered a defilement. In the Ming and Qing periods, the taboo also frequently included prohibitions against consuming the meat of other animals, most notably dogs and horses, whose loyalty and utility were likened to that of the bovine. This is an important observation, as it helps to put the proverbial, widespread stereotypes about Chinese people being willing to eat everything into perspective (see especially p. 207).

The book primarily studies the beef taboo as a normative discourse. But the final chapter (“The Beef Taboo in Late Imperial Chinese Society”) examines the practical implementation and social tensions surrounding the taboo during the Ming and Qing periods. Because sources for the nineteenth century are more readily available, including reports by Western missionaries, observers, and scholars, the chapter devotes particular attention to this period. Goossaert argues that, despite its near-universal recognition, the taboo’s enforcement relied heavily on local communities and on organized moral activism by individuals or associations, because legal enforcement by imperial officials was often weak and plagued by corruption among yamen employees. Local communities enforced the taboo through public rituals, such as sworn oaths of abstinence in community compacts (xiangyue 鄉約), transforming the moral choice into a collective religious mandate that provided protection against epidemic diseases. Activists (including scholars, merchants, and members of charitable associations) institutionally supported the cause by financing offices to redeem cattle from slaughter, providing shelter, and advocating the proper burial of deceased animals.

The chapter goes on to discuss the impact of the beef taboo as a clear social and ethnic boundary marker. The predominantly elite discourse constantly stigmatizes beefeaters as outcasts, criminals, and marginal groups. Beef butcheries were not only outlawed by the state but also likened to hotbeds of immorality, crime, and dissent. In addition, the taboo also led to conflicts between officials and groups that consume beef, as well as to state bans on cattle slaughter among non-Han minority groups, especially in the southwest. Goossaert explicitly discusses the example of Hui Muslims, whose economic specialization in cattle butchery clashed with Han morality, and who to this day are associated with the production of beef. The arrival of barbaric Western “beefeaters” further fueled nationalistic feelings among the Han until modernizing Chinese intellectuals began to criticize the taboo as an irrational impediment to progress, eventually leading to the abolition of the legal slaughter prohibition in 1912. Yet, the taboo is still observed sometimes today. In fact, it is only since the 1960s in both martial-law Taiwan and the People’s Republic that beef consumption has become more widespread. It remains lower than in Japan, which abandoned its beef taboo discourse by subscribing to Western modernity in the early Meiji period.

Overall, the impact of the beef taboo discourse on actual practices is somewhat unclear. This nuanced and careful analysis is one of the many strengths of this book. Even though many zealots insisted that the beef taboo was the epitome of moral character, until the end of imperial rule, specific offerings required the sacrifice of beef. Diverging from Ming policy, which limited cattle sacrifices to the capital, the Qing government insisted on beef sacrifices to Confucius, performed twice a year at the Confucius Temple in every district. Thus, Goossaert observes a bifurcation of Confucians into beef taboo activists on the one hand, who would never touch beef under any circumstances, and scriptural fundamentalists “who sought to follow ancient Confucian classics to the letter” (183).

Some readers may wonder about the relative neglect of Buddhism in Goossaert’s analysis. In fact, one of the book’s key takeaways is that, even though Buddhism mattered to the creation of the taboo (karmic debt and transmigration are originally Buddhist), other ideas were just as crucial, notably practical economic utility, Confucian ideas about moral debt, sacrificial ideals promoted by the state, and Daoist notions of purity. Readers interested in a different explanation may refer to Meir Shahar’s most recent monograph, Kings of Oxen and Horses, which partly addresses the Chinese beef taboo.Footnote ⁴ Shahar considers Indian ideas, transmitted to China through Buddhism, an essential element in the formation of the beef taboo in China. Readers interested in this aspect are advised to read both books, and they may want to consult Barend ter Haar’s insightful review of Shahar’s book in this journal.Footnote ⁵ Juxtaposing the two books demonstrates how a researcher’s field of expertise and disciplinary background inform analysis. It is hardly a coincidence that Shahar, who has worked primarily on Chinese Buddhism and Indian influences on Chinese religious culture, and Goossaert, a specialist in Chinese Daoism, spirit-writing, and local religion, have established claims in their respective areas of expertise. This is intended not as a criticism, since it is natural to develop specific areas of expertise, but as a reminder of how crucial a comprehensive approach is to understanding Chinese religious culture.

To conclude, this book is a remarkable achievement that will inspire readers in diverse disciplines, ranging from Chinese Studies and Religious Studies to Food Studies, Animal Studies, Literature, Economy, and Philosophy. In addition, scholars working in related fields in Korean, Japanese, and Vietnamese history will benefit from Goossaert’s careful and broad discussion. As the book briefly hints, these societies also exhibited similar taboos before the advent of modernity.