Editor’s note: This commentary contains disturbing content.
SINGAPORE: One hundred dead cats found in a squalid home overflowing with faeces and urine in Japan.
A Labradoodle found with bones exposed and massive blood loss after her owner amputated her leg with scissors in Pennsylvania, US.
Elsewhere, a global network of users who make videos of themselves mutilating or killing cats, sharing them in online chat groups for profit.
These separate incidents, from vastly different corners of the world, are disturbing. They raise the question of who would commit such acts, and why they keep happening.
Singapore is not immune. In 2024, animal cruelty and neglect cases reached a 12-year high, according to data by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA). Nearly 30 per cent of the 961 cases involved direct abuse or cruelty, while the rest were poor welfare or neglect cases.
While recent investigations concluded that the high-profile deaths of several cats in Punggol and Yishun were likely caused by vehicle accidents, the public outcry over what was initially thought to be deliberate acts of cruelty reflects rising concern over the broader treatment of animals.
Just last month, a 20-year-old pleaded guilty to committing an indecent act on a cat. In February, a 32-year-old was sentenced to 14 months’ jail for abusing five cats in Ang Mo Kio, two of which he threw off HDB blocks.
For many, it is easier to believe that only those who are mentally unwell are capable of such cruelty. We look for signs of mental illness because it allows us to create emotional distance.
The truth is, ordinary people who do not have clinical diagnoses are capable of extraordinary cruelty. In fact, animal abusers are often psychologically intact individuals who simply lack empathy, conscience or a moral compass. In many cases, the act is deliberate, conscious and terrifyingly calculated.
Mental illness does, at times, contribute to animal cruelty. Individuals suffering from psychosis, whether due to schizophrenia, severe mood disorders or substance-induced states, may act under the influence of delusions. Others struggling with profound depression, cognitive impairment or dementia may neglect animals unintentionally.
In these instances, compassion and clinical intervention are essential, and society must respond with a balance of justice and care.
But the tendency to explain away cruelty through psychiatric labels reflects a broader societal discomfort with confronting morally reprehensible acts committed by disturbingly ordinary people. By attributing violent behaviour to psychiatric pathology, we risk misunderstanding and mismanaging the deeper roots of such behaviour.
Cruelty doesn't emerge from a single cause.
Some individuals harm animals to assert dominance, to experience a sense of power over a helpless being. Others become desensitised after prolonged exposure to stress or violence, their emotional response to suffering blunted.
Some derive pleasure from inflicting pain. Others simply fail to see animals as sentient creatures, operating in a moral void where empathy has never been cultivated.
Cruelty itself is not a monolith. Some individuals lash out impulsively, driven by frustration, anger or acute stress.
Others, far more troubling, engage in systematic and premeditated acts of harm. This latter group often exhibits emotional detachment and traits consistent with sadistic personality features.
Take for example cat abusers who film and sell cat torture videos for money. This is a practice that, according to a criminologist interviewed by CNN, “is happening much more often than people realise”.
In children and adolescents, such patterns may meet the criteria for conduct disorder - a psychiatric condition marked by persistent aggression towards others, including animals. If untreated, this may progress into antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) in adulthood.
ASPD presents a clinical conundrum. It is formally recognised as a mental disorder, yet it occupies a liminal space between psychiatry and morality. Many clinicians and ethicists question whether it truly belongs within the domain of medicine, or if it is better understood as a characterological and ethical failure.
Unlike other psychiatric illnesses, individuals with ASPD rarely experience distress about their actions. They seldom seek help, and when they do, treatment outcomes are poor. Often, they are only concerned with the consequences of being caught - not about the harm they’ve caused.
Of course, not all harm to animals is rooted in sadism or conscious malice. A large proportion of animal welfare violations in Singapore arise from ignorance rather than intent.
Poor pet care, abandonment, and neglect often stem from a lack of understanding about animals’ emotional and physical needs.
People may underestimate the responsibility of ownership or fail to comprehend the consequences of neglect. The suffering caused is nonetheless real. In such cases, education is more humane and more effective than punishment.
Can someone who takes pleasure in cruelty change? In some cases, particularly among the young, yes. Early intervention programmes that combine therapy, empathy-building, and moral education have shown promise.
But for individuals who exhibit chronic, sadistic traits, the path to change is far less certain. In such cases, the priority must be protecting the vulnerable - both human and animal.
Moving forward, meaningful change requires a multi-pronged approach. Empathy education should be a formal part of school curricula, embedded within character and citizenship education. Children must be taught to recognise emotional life not just in people, but in animals too.
The legal consequences for repeated and egregious acts of cruelty must be significantly toughened, not merely to deter would-be offenders, but to affirm, with clarity and conviction, that such inhumanity is fundamentally incompatible with the values of a civilised society.
Serious abuse cases should be accompanied by mandatory psychiatric evaluations, to assess risk and guide management.
At the same time, the government and voluntary welfare organisations must invest more heavily in public outreach and education on responsible pet ownership.
A society is not judged by its affluence, but by how it treats its most vulnerable members - children, the elderly, and animals.
Modern life, with its relentless pace and disconnection, exacts a psychological toll. When individuals feel overwhelmed, dehumanised or emotionally numb, their capacity for empathy wanes.
Many young people today are raised to achieve academically but are not taught how to understand, regulate or express their emotions.
Cruelty does not always announce itself with madness. Sometimes, it is quiet, calculated, and hidden behind an ordinary face. Sometimes, it looks like us. If we cannot acknowledge that, we will never hold it accountable.
Dr Lim Boon Leng is a psychiatrist at the Gleneagles Medical Centre.
Continue reading...
SINGAPORE: One hundred dead cats found in a squalid home overflowing with faeces and urine in Japan.
A Labradoodle found with bones exposed and massive blood loss after her owner amputated her leg with scissors in Pennsylvania, US.
Elsewhere, a global network of users who make videos of themselves mutilating or killing cats, sharing them in online chat groups for profit.
These separate incidents, from vastly different corners of the world, are disturbing. They raise the question of who would commit such acts, and why they keep happening.
Singapore is not immune. In 2024, animal cruelty and neglect cases reached a 12-year high, according to data by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA). Nearly 30 per cent of the 961 cases involved direct abuse or cruelty, while the rest were poor welfare or neglect cases.
While recent investigations concluded that the high-profile deaths of several cats in Punggol and Yishun were likely caused by vehicle accidents, the public outcry over what was initially thought to be deliberate acts of cruelty reflects rising concern over the broader treatment of animals.
Just last month, a 20-year-old pleaded guilty to committing an indecent act on a cat. In February, a 32-year-old was sentenced to 14 months’ jail for abusing five cats in Ang Mo Kio, two of which he threw off HDB blocks.
SOMETIMES, CRUELTY IS A CHOICE
For many, it is easier to believe that only those who are mentally unwell are capable of such cruelty. We look for signs of mental illness because it allows us to create emotional distance.
The truth is, ordinary people who do not have clinical diagnoses are capable of extraordinary cruelty. In fact, animal abusers are often psychologically intact individuals who simply lack empathy, conscience or a moral compass. In many cases, the act is deliberate, conscious and terrifyingly calculated.
Mental illness does, at times, contribute to animal cruelty. Individuals suffering from psychosis, whether due to schizophrenia, severe mood disorders or substance-induced states, may act under the influence of delusions. Others struggling with profound depression, cognitive impairment or dementia may neglect animals unintentionally.
In these instances, compassion and clinical intervention are essential, and society must respond with a balance of justice and care.
But the tendency to explain away cruelty through psychiatric labels reflects a broader societal discomfort with confronting morally reprehensible acts committed by disturbingly ordinary people. By attributing violent behaviour to psychiatric pathology, we risk misunderstanding and mismanaging the deeper roots of such behaviour.
Related:
SADISM OR IGNORANCE?
Cruelty doesn't emerge from a single cause.
Some individuals harm animals to assert dominance, to experience a sense of power over a helpless being. Others become desensitised after prolonged exposure to stress or violence, their emotional response to suffering blunted.
Some derive pleasure from inflicting pain. Others simply fail to see animals as sentient creatures, operating in a moral void where empathy has never been cultivated.
Cruelty itself is not a monolith. Some individuals lash out impulsively, driven by frustration, anger or acute stress.
Others, far more troubling, engage in systematic and premeditated acts of harm. This latter group often exhibits emotional detachment and traits consistent with sadistic personality features.
Take for example cat abusers who film and sell cat torture videos for money. This is a practice that, according to a criminologist interviewed by CNN, “is happening much more often than people realise”.
Related:
In children and adolescents, such patterns may meet the criteria for conduct disorder - a psychiatric condition marked by persistent aggression towards others, including animals. If untreated, this may progress into antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) in adulthood.
ASPD presents a clinical conundrum. It is formally recognised as a mental disorder, yet it occupies a liminal space between psychiatry and morality. Many clinicians and ethicists question whether it truly belongs within the domain of medicine, or if it is better understood as a characterological and ethical failure.
Unlike other psychiatric illnesses, individuals with ASPD rarely experience distress about their actions. They seldom seek help, and when they do, treatment outcomes are poor. Often, they are only concerned with the consequences of being caught - not about the harm they’ve caused.
Of course, not all harm to animals is rooted in sadism or conscious malice. A large proportion of animal welfare violations in Singapore arise from ignorance rather than intent.
Poor pet care, abandonment, and neglect often stem from a lack of understanding about animals’ emotional and physical needs.
People may underestimate the responsibility of ownership or fail to comprehend the consequences of neglect. The suffering caused is nonetheless real. In such cases, education is more humane and more effective than punishment.
CAN ABUSERS CHANGE?
Can someone who takes pleasure in cruelty change? In some cases, particularly among the young, yes. Early intervention programmes that combine therapy, empathy-building, and moral education have shown promise.
But for individuals who exhibit chronic, sadistic traits, the path to change is far less certain. In such cases, the priority must be protecting the vulnerable - both human and animal.
Moving forward, meaningful change requires a multi-pronged approach. Empathy education should be a formal part of school curricula, embedded within character and citizenship education. Children must be taught to recognise emotional life not just in people, but in animals too.
The legal consequences for repeated and egregious acts of cruelty must be significantly toughened, not merely to deter would-be offenders, but to affirm, with clarity and conviction, that such inhumanity is fundamentally incompatible with the values of a civilised society.
Related:
Serious abuse cases should be accompanied by mandatory psychiatric evaluations, to assess risk and guide management.
At the same time, the government and voluntary welfare organisations must invest more heavily in public outreach and education on responsible pet ownership.
A society is not judged by its affluence, but by how it treats its most vulnerable members - children, the elderly, and animals.
Modern life, with its relentless pace and disconnection, exacts a psychological toll. When individuals feel overwhelmed, dehumanised or emotionally numb, their capacity for empathy wanes.
Many young people today are raised to achieve academically but are not taught how to understand, regulate or express their emotions.
Cruelty does not always announce itself with madness. Sometimes, it is quiet, calculated, and hidden behind an ordinary face. Sometimes, it looks like us. If we cannot acknowledge that, we will never hold it accountable.
Dr Lim Boon Leng is a psychiatrist at the Gleneagles Medical Centre.
Continue reading...