by Brian Griffith
It’s possible our wars on unwanted animals are slowly coming to a close. Maybe we’ll increasingly focus on saving enough species to keep the planet alive. Instead of assuming that other creatures are useless or harmful until proven otherwise, we’ll ask what role they play. Naturally, our limited concerns will usually extend to only a few fellow creatures. Our affections will be arbitrary, and our efforts to save certain beings will be almost hilarious for their hypocrisy. In Ontario we legally protect Monarch butterflies as an endangered species, while designating the only plant food of Monarch caterpillars, the milkweed, as a noxious plant which landowners are legally required to eradicate. The Canadian government caved in to global pressure and banned the clubbing of baby seals—until they are over 14 days old. At that point the seals have turned from snow white to a grayish, and they look a bit more mature. Since they no longer seem so cute, it’s okay to club them.
It’s possible that human development leads to ever-greater compassion, as Peter Singer predicted: “Surely one day our children will feel the same sense of horror and incredulity [toward our treatment of animals] that we now feel when we read about the atrocities of the Roman gladiatorial conquests” (2002, 11). Compassion could lead to greater understanding of animals. But if so, it will involve a steep learning curve.
Of course the simplest solution to animal suffering would be a ban on killing sentient beings. And in ancient India, the Buddhist emperor Asoka tried such a decree, in 242 BCE. He ruled that the mammals, birds, and fishes should be fully protected in “forests free from fear.” These forests would be strictly policed, so that if men or beasts tried kill their fellow beings, they would be caught, taken away, and suitably punished. It was a bit unclear how this halting of nature’s wheel could ever be enforced.
If such decrees can’t work, it’s still possible for individuals to swear off killing. And that’s clearly a powerful spiritual practice, as anyone familiar with Gandhi can see. But as for public policy and natural law, the world’s animals will keep on dying, either from predation, or else by starvation following overpopulation. And our part in managing that situation is inescapable. Also, the majority of humans will continue eating meat, and the only question for them will be how sustainably and humanely (or not) they can manage it. According to an Aesopian fable, even the cows and oxen knew it well:
The oxen determined to be revenged upon the butchers for the havoc they wrought in their ranks, and plotted to put them to death. They were gathered together, discussing how best to carry out the plan, when an old ox got upon his feet and said, “My brothers, you have good reason, I know, to hate these butchers, but they understand their trade and do what they have to do without causing any unnecessary pain. But if we kill them, others, who have no experience, will be sent to slaughter us, and we will by their bungling inflict great sufferings upon us. For mankind will never go without their beef.” (cited by Phillips, 2012, 47)
As we know from our religious wars, idealism can be horrifically simplistic. And for some reason, violent animal rights fanatics tend to focus their indignation on medical testing with laboratory animals more than on factory farms. While some scientists are developing alternative ways to test medicines without using animals, the terrorists tend to simply threaten the scientist’s lives. So, according to the FBI, animal rights activists pose America’s greatest domestic terrorism threat. There were 170 extremist incidents under investigation as of 2009, and $110 million worth of damage inflicted on animal facilities. In response to such news-grabbing incidents, Congress enacted the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act, and the FBI placed the suspected animal-activist bomber Daniel San Diego on its most wanted list. No doubt the publicity worked wonders for the popular appeal of animal rights.
Maybe Theodore Roosevelt was more effective than Asoka as a ruler seeking the middle way. Because long before the movie Bambi helped stymie efforts to control booming deer populations, Roosevelt explained that “in order to preserve the wildlife of the wilderness at all, some middle ground must be found between brutal and senseless slaughter and the unhealthy sentimentalism which would just as surely defeat its own end” (Ridgeway, 1998, 178–179). For any healthy balance, our policies on ranching, hunting, fishing, pets, medical testing or pest control will have to be smart rather than ideologically pure.
In managing animals on the land, public sympathy has largely switched from protecting farm livestock to protecting wild animals, including wolves. Jon Coleman points out that the rising urban majority has increasingly ceased having any emotional connection to the farm animals they eat, and instead relate to picturesque creatures of the wilderness. It’s more a switch in animal loyalties than a rise in mercy (2004, 233). Urban people have also increasingly deplored hunting as a cruel blood sport, and even condemned Native communities with ancient hunting traditions. States with urban majorities have voted down measures to cull exploding deer populations. And many people view hunting ranches as exploitation rather than a step toward diversified, natural ranching. Meanwhile, our demands for urban pest control are greatly expanding, seemingly toward a vision of sterilized environments for all. The hypocrisy is clear, and getting clearer. As the gaps in communication between urban and rural areas shrink, there’s more chance that people will get the view from both sides of their fences.
As for our supplies of store-bought meat, appetites have been rising across the world, despite our growing concern over industrialized meat production. In the USA, meat consumption per person rose from 176 lbs. per year in 1975 to around 240 lbs. per year by 2008. The number of animals killed for that meat rose from 56 per year for a family of four in 1975, to 132 killings for each comparable family in recent years. The trend is for eating more animals, but also toward eating smaller ones. Rather than mostly eating cows in the 1970s, people are eating a lot more chickens (Herzog, 2010, 191). In fact, the total herds of beef cattle in places like Australia or the USA are starting to decline. The U.S. herds peaked in 1975 at 132 million cattle, and declined to under 91 million by 2012. Drought has reduced the pasturage available, and corn is less available due to drought and diversion to ethanol fuel production (McGrath, 2012, Nov. 29). Maybe people are shifting toward eating animals that take less land, water, fuel, and fodder. Maybe ranches will increasingly depend on animals that live on unirrigated grass. A whole chain of common-sense choices are working through the food chain. With some better regulation of health conditions in chicken and pig farms, it could be a series of steps in a better direction.
From Animal Wars (Exterminating Angel Press, May 2014)
Sources:
Coleman, 2004, Vicious: Wolves and Men in America. Yale University Press, New Haven, CT., p. 233.
Herzog, 2010, Some We Love, Some We Hate, Some We Eat: Why It’s So Hard to Think Straight About Animals. HarperCollins, New York, p. 191.
McGrath, 2012, “Smaller, Fewer, Thinner—The Future of American Beef?” BBC News, November 29.
Phillips, 2012, Proverbial Aesop: The Complete Aesopic Proverbs Translated with Commentary. Millennial Mind Publishing, Saratoga, CA., p. 47.
Ridgeway, 1998, The Shadow of Kilimanjaro. Henry Holt & Co., New York, pp. 178–179.
Singer, 2002, Unsanctifying Human Life. Blackwell Publishers, Malden, MA., p. 11.