For 45 years, Ingrid Newkirk has served as the chief architect of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals' (Peta) most audacious campaigns. Now 76, the founder of the world's most prominent animal rights organisation shows no signs of mellowing in her bloody fight against everything from leather to cashmere.
Newkirk's commitment was starkly illustrated during a near-fatal plane crash when she was 54. Scribbling a will on a napkin as the aircraft struggled to land, she dictated that her liver should be sent to France for foie gras, her skin to Hermès for a handbag, and her lips to the US president to shame the traditional turkey pardon. This macabre document perfectly encapsulates Peta's provocative approach that has made them both celebrated and reviled.
The Shock Tactics That Defined an Era
Meeting at Peta's leather-free London headquarters near Regent's Canal, Newkirk appears a decade younger than her age, bearing a resemblance to Princess Diana with her blond Chelsea bob. She's in town to deliver a particularly unusual peace offering to her longtime target, Anna Wintour – a scarf woven from human hair, including several inches of her own.
"It's about teaching Anna about consent," Newkirk explains, laughing. The scarf represents just one of countless confrontations with the Vogue editor over three decades, including throwing a dead raccoon into her soup and occupying the magazine's headquarters.
Peta's history is studded with theatrical protests that have normalised direct action in mainstream activism. The 1990s "I'd rather go naked than wear fur" campaign featuring celebrities like Christy Turlington and Kim Basinger brought international attention. The 2002 Victoria's Secret catwalk invasion and Newkirk's naked protest in a coffin in Times Square further cemented their reputation.
Controversy and Consequences
Yet Peta has repeatedly overstepped boundaries, drawing condemnation for comparing animal treatment to the Holocaust and slavery. Their "holocaust on your plate" exhibit was banned in the UK after being described as "shocking and outrageous" by Manchester City Council.
When asked if she regrets these comparisons, Newkirk remains unapologetic. "I have no regrets," she states plainly. "I don't think we went far enough."
This absolutist approach has sometimes alienated supporters and fellow activists. One environmental campaigner told The Guardian that Peta "have a reputation for riding roughshod over anyone else's work, sensibilities and strategies."
Yet Newkirk defends their methods: "You try talking to the press with a list of hard facts on white paper. It's dull. It's not news. Chain yourself to the front of a Canada Goose store and gotcha! You get coverage."
From Stockbroker to Animal Rights Pioneer
Newkirk's path to activism began conventionally enough. Born in Surrey in 1949, she lived in India and Orkney during her childhood, surrounded by animal-derived souvenirs from her engineer father's travels. Her Damascene moment came in the early 1970s while living in rural Maryland.
After discovering abandoned kittens and learning they had been euthanised at a shelter, she was "stunned, utterly horrified." The experience changed everything. She abandoned her stockbroker training to work at the shelter, eventually becoming the first female master at a dog pound before co-founding Peta with Alex Pacheco in 1980.
The organisation now boasts more than 10 million members and supporters worldwide, with around 800 staff. While their targets span factory farming, animal research, entertainment, and fashion, it's the latter that generates the most headlines and everyday tension.
Measuring Impact in a Changing World
Peta can claim significant victories. Animal testing has decreased, with major companies at least paying lip service to animal welfare concerns. Global fur production has fallen 85% in the last decade according to the Fur Free Alliance, and this year marks the first London Fashion Week to ban all animal skins.
Newkirk acknowledges progress while remaining vigilant about trends like vintage fur, which she calls "flamboyant rubbish." Peta addresses this through their "fur kitchen," donating coats to homeless people and schools to repurpose them without fashion statement implications.
Despite recent stunts – including Newkirk dressed as a bloodied goat on the Strand – drawing smaller crowds than in Peta's heyday, the organisation's impact on animal rights remains undeniable. As Newkirk works seven days a week strategising between international offices, her singular vision continues to shape how the world sees, treats, and protects animals.
When asked if the war on fur is largely won, she allows herself a moment of satisfaction: "I'd like to think so." But for Ingrid Newkirk, the broader fight for animal rights continues with undiminished fervour.
