The seal hunt has captured an inordinate amount of public attention over the last few decades compared with other prevalent means of animal exploitation. Thus, it is a wonder that a book like this new essential legal anthropological work by Sellheim has not come before. Sellheim sets out to present the ‘human dimension of the seal hunt’ (at ix). He succeeds in doing so. The first part of the book sets out the sociocultural value of seals and the legal regimes that govern them. It is here, at the book’s heart, that Sellheim’s anthropocentric narrative works best. The latter part of the book explores the European Union’s (EU) seal regime, critiquing it from multiple angles. This is fascinating, particularly where he provides insight into the EU’s travaux préparatoires. However, Sellheim’s persuasiveness here is harmed by his neglect of popular counterarguments and his light‐handed approach to the rich animal welfare literature available on this topic.

Sellheim is self‐aware of the uphill battle his book faces. He presents the human side of a debate which has seen animal advocates, conservationists and sympathetic policymakers come out strongly in favour of protecting seals. However, Chapters 2 and 3 do well to present reasons one might want to defend the seal hunt. He shares the sociocultural significance of the hunt and the – in places – extensive regulation to which the hunts are subject. This works to add gravitas to Sellheim’s later arguments about the EU’s seal regime. The regime, which bans the placing on the market of seal products in the EU (with exceptions for marine management hunts, indigenous hunts and travellers’ personal possessions), is more easily portrayed as flawed if it is introduced in the context of a socioculturally important hunt that is responsibly regulated.

In Chapter 2, Sellheim provides a reflection on mythology (including stories of Selkies and indigenous myths and legends), traditional practice and evolving commercialization of the seal hunt. He also describes the way the hunt adapts through periods of geological change, war and market fluctuation as well as how it has shaped political, cultural and cosmological identities of peoples. His examination is broad, spanning hunts across the Northern and Southern hemispheres. This is valuable context to this complex and contentious sociolegal issue. Sellheim also usefully nuances the dichotomization between commercial hunts (typified as brutal clubbing of baby seals) and Inuit subsistence hunts (typified as respectful and culturally significant use of a totemic species). For example, he notes that the controversial commercial Canadian hunt is not carried out by large firms or companies anymore but, instead, is conducted by individual fishermen with small vessels. He notes that the seal is culturally significant beyond indigenous communities and that small operators like this equally depend on ‘marine resources’ for their livelihood.

In Chapter 3, Sellheim provides a historic insight into domestic, regional and international legal regimes that have governed or now govern the seal hunt in order to ‘manage dwindling stocks and to ensure the continuance of a thriving industry’ (at 111). A particularly useful section explores the applicability of international treaties to seals (dating back to the Jan Mayen Seal Fishery Treaty of 1875 between Germany, Great Britain, the Netherlands, Norway, Russia and Sweden) and the patchwork of international regulatory regimes that has developed since and impacts upon the seal hunt. Sellheim’s analysis of the international legal regimes that govern the seal hunt reveals a strong interest in sustainable sealing and conservation with very little interest in welfare at the international level. In parts of this chapter, Sellheim would have benefited from depth over breadth. For example, he discusses the listing of different seal species in annexes to the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES). However, he does not elaborate on enforcement under that regime or the impact of listing on the conservation status of seals. The welfare provisions in CITES suffer from particularly poor enforcement which means that listing in a CITES appendix does not guarantee impact in practice.11 Cf. M Bowman, ‘Conflict or Compatibility: The Trade, Conservation and Animal Welfare Dimensions of CITES’ (1998) 1 Journal of International Wildlife Law and Policy 9, 18. This potential for an enforcement gap is also of concern regarding the treaty’s primary conservation objectives. Sellheim also provides a comprehensive overview of domestic legislation regulating seal hunts in the seal hunting nations. This covers regulations regarding conservation (permits, closed seasons, etc.) and welfare (stunning, checking and bleeding procedures, for example) as well as countries lacking regulation, such as Russia. He notes that only a minority of States continue to permit the ‘commercial exploitation of seals’ (at 213). However, he expresses surprise that most of the legislation does not deal with welfare or condition hunts on welfare requirements. He expected that because the public debate on sealing has centred on welfare, the legislation would tackle this issue. However, much of the legislation Sellheim covers predates the popular ethical debate about sealing. Thus, it seems to me that this absence is precisely why there has been debate in the first place.

Some cognitive dissonance rears its head at this point regarding the shallow treatment of animals in legislation and the weighty cultural significance attributed to seals in Chapter 2, particularly by Inuit communities. Sellheim does not seek to deal with this dissonance because of his positioning set out at the beginning of the book. He admits that the book ‘hinges on the narrative of the seal as an exploitable resource’ (at 1). Sellheim does not justify this choice and the chosen narrative quickly begins to feel insufficient. This may go unnoticed by many. Indeed, it is common to regard animals as resources and the legislation does so. We continue to be influenced by Aristotle’s Great Chain of Being in that way. But there exist rich expanses of literature on the question of the seal (and animals more generally), its moral considerability and what might be owed to it. The choice not to address this literature in selecting a narrative means the book carries a pregnant silence that builds throughout. Indeed, this seems like a missed opportunity to have engaged with animal liberationists or others with knowledge of animal ethics. The term ‘animal liberationist’ could be said to stem from Peter Singer, though the movement has spread widely and encompasses a multitude of ethical approaches to the question of the animal.22 See, e.g., P Singer, Animal Liberation: A New Ethics for Our Treatment of Animals (HarperCollins 1975). There are important insights that animal liberationists might learn from Sellheim’s book, but I fear they will too quickly dismiss it for the casual way it selects its narrative. Sellheim’s desire to tell a story that appears marginalized is an honourable one. But it remains true that seals are a unique case: the sustained attention toward sealing and condemnation of the practice are rare deviances from the norm of public acquiescence or ignorance toward animal use and animal suffering. To say that the human story has been neglected here reads like arguments about discrimination against white men or the need for straight pride festivals. It misses the bigger picture.

Besides the problem of audience capture, I fear that the latter part of the book, which is more argumentative, is not as convincing as it could be due to the absence of engagement with key pieces of literature. I will refer to four of Sellheim’s key arguments in this regard after providing an overview of the book’s final two substantive chapters.

In Chapters 4 and 5, Sellheim explores the history and development of the EU’s seal regime, including its path to enactment and the key legal challenges brought against the regime at the Court of Justice of the EU (CJEU) and the World Trade Organization (WTO) dispute settlement body. Sellheim points out the neglect of sealers livelihoods in the debates surrounding the ban. These debates paid no regard to moral positions that legitimize seal hunting or the justifications relied on by those taking part in the hunt. For these reasons, he warns against moral imperialism. This point is well made. Calls from affected communities for more effective consultation and consideration should be taken seriously, particularly given the uneven nature of the EU’s legislation on animal welfare (focusing on some species more than others). It may be that emerging discourse on global animal law can contemplate how such meaningful dialogue can take place.

Sellheim also provides an enlightening insight into the interaction between international trade law and moral concern, harkening back to the 1815 Declaration Relative to the Universal Abolition of the Slave Trade. However, he seems to misrepresent the relationship between international trade law and animal welfare in a few key ways. He argues that animal welfare is no justification for trade barriers due to the operation of likeness tests under WTO law and the treatment of processes and production methods (PPMs) therein. But it is quite clear from the relevant case law and literature, especially the EC–Asbestos case, that likeness is an individual determination in each case that can encompass consumers’ tastes and habits (which could most certainly include animal welfare).

This comment leads back to the four key arguments made by Sellheim that could have been strengthened by engagement with literature that reaches different conclusions. First, he criticizes the EU seal regime because sealers would ‘accuse opponents [of the hunt] of inconsistency for opposing sealing but eating other animals’ (at 267). On this point, many animal liberationists would actually agree with Sellheim. Indeed, Francione highlights the problem of our ‘moral schizophrenia’ towards animals whereby we care for some animals, hate others and eat billions.33 G Francione, Animals as Persons (Columbia University Press 2008) 150. Sellheim does not forward an argument as to why this inconsistency makes opposition to the seal hunt illegitimate. Elsewhere, he argues that the EU favours a utilitarian approach to animals so that their protection is weighed against human interests. If these points had been drawn together, they could have supported one another. Also, there is fascinating discussion on moral consistency in legislation by Howse, Langille and Sykes.44 R Howse, J Langille and K Sykes, ‘Pluralism in Practice: Moral Legislation and the Law of the WTO After Seal Products’ (2015) 48 George Washington International Law Review 81, 114–115. The authors make a convincing argument that counters Sellheim’s point, stating that such inconsistency is acceptable and even to be expected.

Second, Sellheim argues that the EU seal regime’s exception for indigenous hunts is ineffective and ill‐conceived. He notes that the EU failed to heed the inputs of Inuit communities in their public consultation contributions on the seal regime. This is undoubtedly a failure. He argues that the seal regime is ill‐conceived because the Inuit exception harms the animal welfare intentions of the ban and the exception is ineffective anyway because of the ‘interrelationships between the market and subsistence economies’ (at 259). However, Sellheim does not deal with the EU response to the outcome of the WTO EC–Seal Products case. Sellheim’s argument echoes the argument made against the EU in the case, which caused the EU to respond by limiting the exception for Inuit communities. This is an interesting demonstration of the EU’s priorities that would have benefited from discussion here.

Another point is that Sellheim argues that the different approach to Inuit hunts by the EU ‘cannot be justified with anything other than an emotional and nonfactual approach towards seal hunting’ (at 260). This dichotomizes emotion and rationality in a rather outdated way. It has been convincingly argued in many places that empathy is a ‘complex intellectual as well as emotional exercise’ and an ‘imaginative exercise that requires judgement and evaluation’.55 See, e.g., J Donovan, ‘Attention to Suffering: Sympathy as a Basis for Ethical Treatment of Animals’ in J Donovan and CJ Adams (eds), The Feminist Care Tradition in Animal Ethics (Columbia University Press 2007) 174, 176 and 223. This also overlooks the seriousness of intersecting oppressions which may go some of the way to explaining the combination of these two objectives in the seal regime.66 See, e.g., M Deckha, ‘Toward a Postcolonial, Posthumanist Feminist Theory: Centralizing Race and Culture in Feminist Work on Nonhuman Animals’ (2012) 27 Hypatia 527. It is increasingly recognized that oppressive, paternal forces work to marginalize a number of communities in intersecting ways. Viewed through this lens, the EU’s approach to Inuit hunts could be argued to be more than merely ‘emotional and nonfactual’.

Third, Sellheim argues that while the seal regime holds animal welfare as a principle concern, the travaux préparatoires suggest the EU was going to adopt a ban irrespective of animal welfare concerns. Indeed, he expertly demonstrates the shifting focus in the lead up to the enactment of the final seal regime. This shifts from a focus on conservation surrounding the Seal Pups Directive of 1983; to studies that recommended labelling so as to avoid the potential impact of a ban on Inuit communities; to an eventual decision to enact a ban and a shift toward non‐utilization which Sellheim distinguishes from welfare (more on this below). He concludes that the drafting process reveals a lack of a ‘coherent, problem‐solving oriented approach’ (at 251). However, it seems to me that the shift in focus is not uncommon in the deliberative process toward enacting legislation. Sellheim also critiques the fact that the EU shifts its focus when defending the EU seal regime against challenges raised at the CJEU and WTO dispute settlement body. The shifting focus goes from improving the functioning of the internal market to protecting public morality related to animal welfare. However, this is also common as a defensive tactic, especially where different forums and different legal questions are at issue. It would have been useful if Sellheim had spent more time unpicking what was problematic about the shifts in focus in a legal sense.

Finally, Sellheim argues that bans are ineffective at protecting welfare and only regulation can do that. He argues that while the EU seal regime ‘has undoubtedly contributed to a reduction in the number of seals that are killed, it does little to impact the welfare of the individual seal which is still killed’ (at 256). Sellheim is right to say that regulation more directly impacts welfare than a ban. But he seems to neglect the fact that it is not the EU’s place to regulate the industry in Canada or elsewhere. It cannot legislate extraterritorially in this way. Perhaps it could have defended such conditionality within a trade restriction before the WTO. It would have been interesting to hear Sellheim’s thoughts on how such a measure could have been drafted and defended.

Sellheim’s argument that a ban fails to protect public moral concern for seals contains some indeterminacy stemming from the definitions of welfare, conservation and protection. He distinguishes well between welfare and conservation throughout his book but never pauses to define these three terms. This causes some difficulties. For example, Sellheim argues that ‘animal welfare is a relative concept that primarily refers to animals held in captivity and which does not equate with an absence of killing’ (at 256). Animal welfare does not primarily refer to animals held in captivity, as wide‐scoping work on wild animal welfare will attest.77 See, e.g., W Scholtz, Animal Welfare and International Environmental Law: From Conservation to Compassion (Edward Elgar 2019). It is true that welfare does not equate with an absence of killing. Nevertheless, whether an absence of killing is desirable depends on the underlying ethic behind welfare‐protective measures. Many animal rights views do pursue non‐utilization, and welfarist law can be backed by rights‐based rather than utilitarian ethics. I think it would have been useful to dwell on what these terms mean and to engage with Sykes’ argument that ‘protection’ refers to something broader in scope. She defines animal protection as encompassing ‘elements of conservation‐focused concerns, welfare concerns, and something that does not quite fit into either category: the value of the life of a charismatic individual animal’.88 K Sykes, ‘Globalization and the Animal Turn: How International Trade Law Contributes to Global Norms of Animal Protection’ (2016) 5 Transnational Environmental Law 55, 67. Sykes is writing about the EC–Seal Products dispute and I believe that her exploration of protection is essential to understanding and critiquing the EU’s policy goals regarding the seal regime.

To conclude, Sellheim’s book provides incredibly valuable insight into the socio‐economic realities of the seal hunt. This is also the first place in which lawyers can find a comprehensive overview of the relevant legal regimes applicable to seal hunts across the globe. For these reasons, this book is bound to become essential reading and Sellheim ought to be commended for the rigorous work that has gone into this. I understand why Sellheim made the narrative choice to treat seals as exploitable resources. However, I think that this narrative choice ought to have been better justified by reference to the literature. I also think that, even having made this choice, there were insights provided by animal liberationists and others working on the sealing issue that would have added nuance and precision to the final chapters of the book. The academic work stemming from the animal liberation movement frequently displays intellectual rigor and it deserves attention in this debate. It is much more than a mere attempt to reach a ‘moral high ground’ (at 284). In any event, this book is a great accomplishment and is bound to inspire further fascinating debate and research on the seal hunt.

与其他流行的动物开采手段相比，在过去的几十年中，海豹狩猎引起了公众的极大关注。因此，令人惊讶的是，没有像塞勒海姆这样的新的基本法律人类学著作这样的书出现。塞勒海姆着手介绍“海豹狩猎的人文维度”（第九部分）。他成功地做到了。本书的第一部分阐述了海豹的社会文化价值和管理海豹的法律制度。在本书的核心部分，塞勒海姆的以人为本的叙述才是最好的。本书的后半部分探讨了欧盟的密封制度，从多个角度对其进行了批判。这很令人着迷，尤其是在他对欧盟的准备工作有深刻见解的地方。然而，塞勒海姆在这里的说服力因他对流行的反驳的忽视以及他对有关该主题的丰富的动物福利文献所采取的宽松态度而受到损害。

塞勒海姆对自己的书本面临的艰苦斗争具有自我意识。他提出了一场辩论的人文方面，动物保护主义者，保护主义者和有同情心的政策制定者强烈赞成保护海豹。但是，第2章和第3章很好地说明了人们可能想捍卫海豹狩猎的原因。他分享了狩猎的社会文化意义以及狩猎所受的广泛监管。这为塞勒海姆后来关于欧盟密封制度的论点增加了吸引力。该制度禁止在欧盟市场上出售海豹产品（海洋狩猎，本地狩猎和旅行者的个人财产除外），如果在具有社会文化意义的背景下引入，则更容易被描述为有缺陷的制度。负责任地狩猎。

在第2章中，塞勒海姆对神话（包括塞尔基人的故事以及土著神话和传说），传统习俗和海豹狩猎的商业化发展进行了反思。他还描述了狩猎在地质变化，战争和市场波动时期的适应方式，以及它如何塑造了人们的政治，文化和宇宙身份。他的考试范围很广，横跨北半球和南半球。这是解决这一复杂而有争议的社会法律问题的宝贵背景。塞勒海姆还有益地细化了商业狩猎（通常被残酷地封印的海豹）和因纽特人的生存狩猎（典型地是对图腾物种的尊重和具有文化意义的使用）之间的二分法。例如，他指出，有争议的加拿大商业捕猎不再是由大公司或公司进行的，而是由个体渔民用小型船只进行的。他指出，印章在文化上超越了土著社区，而且像这样的小型经营者同样依靠“海洋资源”谋生。

在第3章中，塞勒海姆（Sellheim）提供了对国内，区域和国际法律制度的历史性见解，这些法律制度已经或现在控制着海豹狩猎活动，以“管理数量减少的种群并确保兴旺的产业持续发展”（第111页）。特别有用的部分探讨国际条约对海豹的适用性（可追溯到1875年德国，英国，荷兰，挪威，俄罗斯和瑞典之间的《马扬海豹渔业条约》）和自那时以来发展起来的国际监管制度的拼凑而成。并影响海豹狩猎。塞勒海姆（Sellheim）对管理海豹捕猎的国际法律制度的分析表明，人们对可持续的海豹捕猎和保护具有浓厚的兴趣，而在国际层面对福利的兴趣却很小。在本章的某些部分，塞尔海姆本该从深度上受益，而不是在广度上受益。例如，他讨论了《濒危物种国际贸易公约》（CITES）附件中不同海豹种类的清单。但是，他没有详细说明该制度下的强制执行或清单对海豹保护状况的影响。《濒危野生动植物种国际贸易公约》中的福利规定执行得特别差，这意味着在《濒危野生动植物种国际贸易公约》附录中列出并不能保证对实践产生影响。11立方英尺 M Bowman，“冲突或相容性：《濒危野生动植物种国际贸易公约》的贸易，保护和动物福利方面”（1998年），《国际野生动物法律和政策杂志》 9，第18期。对于条约的主要保护目标，这种潜在的执行差距也值得关注。Sellheim还提供了有关监管海豹狩猎国家中的海豹狩猎的国内立法的全面概述。这涵盖了有关养护（许可证，封闭季节等）和福利（例如，惊人的检查和出血程序）以及缺乏法规的国家（例如俄罗斯）的法规。他指出，只有少数国家继续允许“对海豹的商业利用”（第213页）。但是，他感到惊讶的是，大多数立法都没有涉及福利或对福利要求的追捕。他希望，因为关于密封的公开辩论集中在福利上，所以立法将解决这个问题。然而，塞海姆所涵盖的大部分立法都早于关于密封的流行伦理学辩论。因此，在我看来，这种缺席恰恰是为什么首先要进行辩论的原因。

关于立法中对动物的浅薄对待以及第2章（特别是因纽特人社区）因海豹而引起的沉重的文化意义，在这一点上有些认知失调引起了人们的注意。塞勒海姆（Sellheim）并不打算处理这种不和谐，因为他在本书开始时就已经提出了自己的立场。他承认这本书“依赖于海豹的叙述作为一种可利用的资源”（1）。塞勒海姆没有为这个选择辩护，选择的叙述很快就变得不足。许多人可能没有注意到这一点。确实，将动物视为资源是很普遍的，而立法也是如此。通过这种方式，我们继续受到亚里士多德的“大存在链”的影响。但是关于海豹（以及更广泛的动物）问题，存在着广泛的文献资料，它在道德上的可考虑性以及应归功于它的东西。在选择叙事时不选择这些文学作品的选择意味着这本书充满了孕育的沉默。确实，这似乎是与动物解放主义者或其他具有动物伦理知识的人接触的机会。可以说“动物解放主义者”一词源于彼得·辛格，尽管这一运动已经广泛传播并且涵盖了许多有关动物问题的道德方法。22参见，例如，P Singer，《动物解放：我们对待动物的新伦理》（HarperCollins 1975）。动物解放主义者可能会从塞尔海姆的书中学到很多重要的见识，但是我担心他们会因为选择它的叙述的随意方式而很快将其驳回。塞尔海姆（Sellheim）想要讲一个似乎被边缘化的故事的愿望是光荣的。但是海豹是一个独特的例子，这仍然是事实：对密封和谴责这种行为的持续关注与公众对动物使用和动物痛苦的默认或无知的规范是罕见的偏离。说人类的故事在这里被忽略了，就像在争论关于歧视白人或需要举行直接的骄傲节一样。它错过了更大的前景。

除了吸引观众的问题之外，我担心本书的后半部分更具争议性，因为缺乏对关键文献的参与，因此其说服力不如说服力。在概述了本书的最后两个实质性章节之后，我将参考塞尔海姆在这方面的四个主要论点。

在第4章和第5章中，塞尔海姆探讨了欧盟海豹机制的历史和发展，包括其颁布的路径以及欧盟法院（CJEU）和世界贸易组织（WTO）对该海豹机制所面临的主要法律挑战。 ）争端解决机构。塞勒海姆在围绕禁令的辩论中指出，海豹猎人的生计被忽视。这些辩论没有考虑使海豹狩猎合法化的道德立场，也没有考虑参加狩猎的人所依靠的理由。由于这些原因，他警告不要道德帝国主义。这一点做得很好。应当认真考虑来自受影响社区的呼吁，以期进行更有效的磋商和考虑，特别是考虑到欧盟动物福利立法的性质不平衡（更多地关注某些物种而不是其他物种）。

塞勒海姆还提供了对国际贸易法与道德问题之间相互作用的启发性见识，可以追溯到1815年《关于普遍消除奴隶贸易的宣言》。但是，他似乎在一些关键方面歪曲了国际贸易法与动物福利之间的关系。他认为，动物福利不是贸易壁垒的正当理由，这是因为根据世贸组织法律进行了相似性测试及其中的过程和生产方法（PPM）的处理。但是从相关的判例法和文献中，尤其是在EC–石棉案中，很明显，在每种情况下，相似性都是一种个体决定，可以包含消费者的口味和习惯（其中肯定可以包括动物福利）。

这篇评论引出了塞尔海姆提出的四个关键论点，可以通过参与得出不同结论的文献来加强。首先，他批评欧盟的海豹捕捞制度，因为海豹捕捞者会“指责（狩猎）的反对者反对海豹捕猎，但他们会吃其他动物”（267）。在这一点上，许多动物解放主义者实际上会同意塞勒海姆的观点。的确，法兰西翁（Franconie）强调了我们对动物的“精神分裂症”的问题，在这种情况下，我们关爱某些动物，讨厌其他动物并食用数十亿美元。33 G Francione，《人的动物》（哥伦比亚大学出版社，2008年）150。塞勒海姆没有就为何这种矛盾性使海豹猎杀非法化提出反对意见。他认为，在其他地方，欧盟赞成对动物采用功利主义的做法，以使保护动物的利益与人的利益相抵触。如果将这些观点综合在一起，它们本可以相互支持。此外，Howse，Langille和Sykes也对立法中的道德一致性进行了有趣的讨论。44 R Howse，J Langille和K Sykes，“实践中的多元化：印章产品之后的道德立法和WTO的法律”（2015年）48乔治华盛顿国际法评论81，114–115。 作者提出了令人信服的论点来反驳塞勒海姆的观点，并指出这种不一致是可以接受的，甚至是可以预期的。

其次，塞勒海姆（Sellheim）认为，欧盟海豹捕捞制度对本地猎杀的例外是无效的且构想欠佳。他指出，欧盟在因海特政权对海豹制度进行的公众咨询贡献中没有注意因纽特人的意见。无疑这是失败的。他认为，印章制度的构想是不正确的，因为因纽特人的例外损害了禁令的动物福利意图，而且由于“市场与生存经济之间的相互关系”，该例外无论如何还是无效的（第259页）。但是，塞勒海姆未处理欧盟对WTO EC-Seal产品结果的回应案件。塞勒海姆的论点与该案中针对欧盟的论点相呼应，后者导致欧盟通过限制因纽特人社区的例外而做出回应。这有趣地展示了欧盟的优先事项，而这将从这里的讨论中受益。

另一点是，塞勒海姆认为，欧盟对因纽特人的狩猎采取的不同方法“除了对海豹猎杀的情感和非事实方法外，不能用其他任何理由来证明”（260）。这以过时的方式将情感和理性二分。在许多地方已经令人信服地指出，移情是“复杂的智力和情感练习”，也是“需要判断和评估的想象力练习”。55参见J Donovan和J Donovan和CJ Adams编着的“注意遭受痛苦：同情是对动物进行道德对待的基础”，《动物伦理学中的女性主义关怀传统》（哥伦比亚大学出版社，2007年）第174、176和223。 这也忽视了相交压迫的严重性，这在某种程度上可以解释海豹制度中这两个目标的结合。66参见，例如M Deckha，“迈向后殖民，后人文主义的女性主义理论：在非人动物的女权主义工作中集中种族和文化”（2012年），第27页，第527页。人们日益认识到，压迫性的父权力量以相交的方式使许多社区边缘化。从这个角度来看，可以说欧盟对因纽特人的狩猎方式不只是“情感和非事实”。

第三，塞勒海姆辩称，虽然海豹制度将动物福利作为首要考虑因素，但准备工作是建议欧盟无论动物福利问题如何都将采取一项禁令。的确，他熟练地证明了在最终印章制度制定之前的关注点正在转移。这从围绕1983年海豹幼崽指令的保护重点转移到现在。进行建议贴标签的研究，以避免禁令对因纽特人社区的潜在影响；最终决定颁布禁令，并转向未利用的行为，这是塞勒海姆与福利的区别（请参见下文）。他的结论是，起草过程表明缺乏“连贯，解决问题的方法”（251）。但是，在我看来，焦点的转移在立法过程中的审议过程中并不少见。塞勒海姆还批评了这样一个事实，即欧盟在捍卫欧盟海豹机制以应对在欧洲联盟和世贸组织争端解决机构提出的挑战时转移了注意力。转移的重点从改善内部市场的功能到保护与动物福利有关的公共道德。但是，这也是一种常见的防御策略，特别是在存在不同的论坛和不同的法律问题的情况下。如果塞勒海姆花更多的时间来揭露法律意义上的焦点转移问题，那将是有用的。特别是在有不同论坛和不同法律问题的地方。如果塞勒海姆花更多的时间来揭露法律意义上的焦点转移问题，那将是有用的。特别是在有不同论坛和不同法律问题的地方。如果塞勒海姆花更多的时间来揭露法律意义上的焦点转移问题，那将是有用的。

最后，塞勒海姆认为禁令在保护福利方面是无效的，只有法规才能做到这一点。他认为，尽管欧盟密封政权无疑有助于在被杀死海豹的数量减少了，但并不能影响个人印章，其中福利是仍然杀死'（256）。Sellheim正确地说，监管比禁令对福利的影响更大。但他似乎忽略了这样一个事实，即欧盟不是在加拿大或其他地方规范该行业的地方。它不能以这种方式进行域外立法。也许它可以在世贸组织之前的贸易限制内捍卫这种条件。听到塞尔海姆（Sellheim）关于如何起草和捍卫这种措施的想法，将是很有趣的。

塞勒海姆关于禁令未能保护公众对海豹的道德关注的论点包含一些不确定性，这些不确定性源于福利，保护和保护的定义。在整本书中，他都很好地区分了福利和保护，但从未停下来定义这三个术语。这造成一些困难。例如，塞勒海姆（Sellheim）认为“动物福利是一个相对的概念，主要是指被圈养的动物，并不等于没有杀死动物”（256）。动物福利主要不是指被圈养的动物，因为有关野生动物福利的广泛研究将证明这一点。77参见，例如，W Scholtz，《动物福利和国际环境法：从保护到同情》（Edward Elgar，2019年）。的确，福利不等于没有杀人。然而，是否需要不采用杀戮取决于福利保护措施背后的基本道德。许多动物权利的观点的确追求非利用，福利主义者的法律可以基于权利而不是功利主义伦理的支持。我认为，仔细研究这些术语的含义并与赛克斯（Sykes）所说的“保护”指的是范围更广的论点打交道会很有用。她将动物保护定义为“关注保护的要素，福利的要素，以及与这两类都不完全匹配的东西：具有超凡魅力的个体动物的生命价值”。88 K Sykes，“全球化与动物转向：国际贸易法如何对全球动物保护规范做出贡献”（2016年）5跨国环境法55，67。Sykes正在撰写有关EC-密封产品争议的文章，我相信她对保护的探索对于理解和批评欧盟有关密封制度的政策目标至关重要。

总而言之，塞勒海姆的书为海豹狩猎的社会经济现实提供了令人难以置信的宝贵见解。这也是律师可以找到适用于全球海豹狩猎活动的相关法律制度的全面概述的第一站。由于这些原因，这本书必将成为必不可少的阅读材料，而塞勒海姆（Sellheim）因其所进行的艰苦工作而受到赞扬。我知道塞尔海姆为何选择叙事方式将海豹视为可利用的资源。但是，我认为应该通过参考文献来更好地说明这种叙事选择。我还认为，即使做出了这样的选择，动物解放主义者和其他从事密封问题的人也提供了一些见识，这些见解将使本书的最后各章更加细微和精确。来自动物解放运动的学术著作经常表现出学术上的严谨性，因此在本次辩论中值得关注。这不仅仅是达到“道德制高点”的尝试（在284）。无论如何，这本书都是一项伟大的成就，必将激发有关海豹狩猎的进一步有趣的辩论和研究。