Thinking: August 2008 Archives

I've been receiving a fairly typical response lately during my conversations with non-vegans about ethics and nonhumans, and it's rather curious I think.

As I try to defend the philosophy of animal rights I believe it's necessary to challenge those unstated assumptions that we all make about the "naturalness" of the species hierarchy or our domination of the world and all its nonhuman inhabitance. Why must we insist on our own supremacy, and even assuming human supremacy, how can that be used to justify torturing bunny rabbits during nicotine addiction tests, for example?

From this point, a conversation can be started about certain premises we all generally hold, the most prominent being the deeply held belief that unnecessary suffering is something that ought to be avoided. Or more simply, pain is intrinsically evil and ought to be reduced to the greatest extent possible. From this, of course, it follows that all suffering should be counted as morally important unless we are able to come up with a reason or a sound principle that justifies our belief that X's interest in not suffering counts, but Y's similar interests, even though the suffering occurs to a similar (perhaps greater) degree and intensity, doesn't matter. Further, following this line of reasoning, aren't those who argue that the sexist who refuses to consider the interests of women in his moral deliberations because women belong to a different - "naturally inferior" - group is morally abhorrent and totally irrational, being equally irrational when they tacitly accept the premise of the speciesist who argues from within this same prejudicial framework to justify eating meat?

Now on to the response that I have been receiving lately: "Alex," I'm told, "attacking people who eat meat is not a good way to make your point." Automatically I'm struck by this, as anyone would be: Attacking? From my position, I'm simply having a conversation about why our justifications for eating meat rests on flawed premises and erroneous assumption, which then lead to invalid conclusions. Therefore, "attacking" is absurd on its face, almost nonsensical, from my position.

But now I understand the impetus - mere defensiveness.

Our society has progressed (Kind of?) beyond our inherited traditional prejudices and mores that relegate black American's to a position of inferiority, for example. Therefore, if confronted with a racist today, I would, as I do with speciesists, question some of their assumptions and ask them to articulate their own premises, etc. As is often the case, we don't even realize that we believe certain things; they go unstated, left unaddressed and therefore assumed. A conversation, then, should aim to uncover and challenge the unsaid to see if they survive the light of day. I would hardly label this discourse an "attack." I think most would agree.

Most, not all, because of course there are those who actually believe in racism and are therefore tied to those beliefs, explicit or implied. They have a stake in the outcome, so a defensive posture is almost inevitable. And we recognize this: it's the most prominent hurdle we have to overcome to eliminate these prejudices. And I recognize now that this is what compels the erroneous statement "Alex, attacking people who eat meat is not a good way to make your point."

Even those making this claim know, intuitively, that I'm not attacking them in some fallacious ad hominem way. I'm addressing their own premises, as they would do to the homophobe or hate monger. But, like the sexist, the speciesist is locked into a very specific and all-encompassing viewpoint - a monster of a paradigm that reaches into every aspect of our lives. I mean we almost mystify what we eat; it has taken on the characteristic of a value-statement; it's representative of who we are to some degree. Enter the defensive posture and the misguided attacks on me for challenging assertions that vegans are extreme, wrongheaded, etc., as if killing a mink for his skin and fur (because it's fashionable) isn't "extreme" and just downright inhuman.

With this understanding I've realized the power of reasoning by analogy. "Would you call X, Y, and Z, during a conversation with an ardent bigot, an attack?" "If not, why is this conversation about animal ethics any different?" We can challenge that most prominent implied assumption underlying this predictable response: "Because they're animals and we are humans." Just as we challenge this assumption when aimed at women: "Because they're women and we are men." It all seems to be the same logical (and ethical) framework.  

So, to end, I'm not attacking you or "pitting you against vegans and vegetarians," anymore than I pit non-sexists against sexists. It's called a conversation. It simply make's you, as it did me, feel uncomfortable.

Will be crossposted @ Vegan Soapbox

I watched a commercial yesterday for a producer of eggs that claimed that their eggs,

"...contain less saturated fat and lower cholesterol than ordinary eggs. EB eggs are also a great source of Omega-3 Fatty Acids, lutein, Vitamin E and Iodine."

The commercial goes on to claim that these eggs contain nearly 10 percent more protein than their competitors.

As I sat there watching this short little piece of propaganda for the meat industry, I wondered what had to occur in the process - to the hen - for these eggs to take on their unique characteristics? Or more specifically, what unnatural occurrence created this egg? It is not being suggested but stated: Our eggs are different than those of company X, Y, and Z. Thus, why and how is this so? I couldn't help but asking this question - it was almost demanded of the bold undertones of the message. I'm wondering then, are others similarly quizzical, or is it just me because I'm vegan and I pay closer attention?

I have to believe, given the all-pervasive nature of the "animals-as-property" paradigm that we exist in, that it is just me (and others of like mind). I think this ignorance of the masses is necessary. To maintain business as usual, a conscious effort is being made in these animal-exploitation-is-fine political campaigns to stifle the curiosity of the public. Why?

I surmise that it's prudence; it's purely self-interest driving these campaigns of misinformation and half-truths. If we were to connect living, experiencing beings with "our food" the message gets muddied by emotion, which then, oftentimes, leads to risky questions like "Should we continue to force these creatures to suffer unnecessarily?"

I couldn't help but wonder what terrible things had to happen to those poor hens - generations of them, in fact - to ensure the production (read reproductive excrements) of these special eggs? How much can we change nature to better suit our selfish desires before there's finally a backlash? Have these sensitive beings actually taken on the form of a "living machine" today, and what, if any, ethical questions should be raised about this strange situation?

I asked these questions throughout a 30 second commercial about eggs. Bernard E. Rollin writes about the "gestalt shift" that occurs when we begin asking these sorts of questions: questions about animal ethics, taking unnecessary suffering seriously, morality, nature, etc. I think his point was proven here. When your eye's are opened to all the pain and psychological trauma that these animals must undergo just because we like the taste of them, everything is viewed in a different light. Our very humanity should be questioned. 

And further, I understand P.E.T.A.'s and the Humane Society of the United States' method, and their belief in the power of this message, a little better now. When you lift the curtain and see what and who's behind it all, you cannot help but ask questions. We can ignore the implications, but the curiosity - or perhaps disgust - is there. I hope.

Many people will not eat veal out of outrage, moral or otherwise, over the treatment of the baby cows. Other people recoil when they're informed about what terrible things await a newborn calve whose destiny is a veal crate. The most often response is an enthusiastic "I will not eat veal ever again." This response is common and just.

These same people, however, retreat from their position of indignation when they are further informed that without the dairy industry, the veal industry, in its current form, would not exist. All mammals (or most, I suppose there are exceptions), diary cows included, must necessarily be pregnant to lactate; therefore, babies and milk are indelibly tied together.

I often ask, "What do you believe happens to the baby cows?" They don't know; I certainly didn't for some time. So I tell them that the girl baby cows are generally reared for dairy production and then slaughter but the boys, well, they have two fates: The lucky ones (?) are allowed to die (it is cost efficient because they weren't "designed" for us to eat them), but the unfortunates - and majority - are sold to veal producers. These "by-products" of the dairy industry are taken from their mothers - apparently mommy cow milk isn't for baby cows but for humans, including adults, which is weird - , transported to meat peddlers, immobilized, kept anemic, and put in the dark for the vast majority of their pitiful and short lives. These infants don't even have the chance to suckle; their mom can't fulfill that totally innate desire to feed her baby. Tragic, just tragic, and totally unjustifiable. And it's all made possible by the same people who provide the base products for our cheese pizza and ice cream.

With this knowledge, when these people who so adamantly challenge the veal industry withdraw from their stand and continue eating dairy (thus perpetuating the system), is it kind of like the following situation?

I live in pre-civil War America and I feel a moral rage inside me over the evil of slavery. I go to a pre-Civil War Target because I want to buy a shirt. I'm confronted with two options: cotton or polyester. Now, to be sure, the vast majority of the population, including my family and friends, wear cotton. Indeed, it's a societal norm; a product of cultural conditioning. However, my friend just told me that cotton is mass produced on the backs of slave labor, that horrendous practice that I feel so adamantly is unethical.

But I really like cotton too. It feels great on my skin. I've grown to love these shirts, this fabric. It's in a lot of the things I wear. It would, in fact, be a little strange, according to the general sentiment, if I didn't buy the cotton shirt. But the other option - the polyester - works just as well. I mean sure, I don't like it as much now because I've been conditioned in such a way that my taste for cotton mimics an addiction, but I could learn to like the other fabric just as much. (Re-conditioned, if you will.) A lot of other people have, and more and more people every day are changing their habits to better conform with justice.

So, I'm certainly not going to own a slave, or hang out with people who own them, and I'll even fight for their rights, but...my horror only goes so far. And anyway, even if I live up to my own expectations (and morals), people will still have slaves. Right?  

I ask myself then, "How can I have my eyes open to something and not act on it?" Should my taste for cotton overwhelm that sense of anger over what happens to those poor slaves? I mean just because everybody else does it, doesn't make it right - just because I've always done it, doesn't means it's justified.

How can we have our eyes open to something and not act on it, indeed? Stepping out of the shadow of "what everybody else does" and going vegetarian is an excellent step. It's a statement that we all should make to speak to this evil. Going vegan, well, that's the moral baseline. Give up dairy (and eggs, etc.). Every glass of milk you drink is a baby cow that doesn't get to know his mother. Not to mention the torture. Let's let "I hate veal and won't eat it" actually mean something.  

Will be crossposted @ Vegan Soapbox

"As often as Herman had witnessed the slaughter of animals and fish, he always had the same thought: in their behavior toward creatures, all men were Nazis. The smugness with which man could do with other species as he pleased exemplified the most extreme racist theories, the principle that might is right" (emphasis added). 

I overheard a conversation the other day between three people. They were having a discussion about what they were going to eat, some kind of Italian sandwich shop was mentioned, and for some reason (I couldn't hear why the conversation was re-directed) one of the individuals mentioned that his daughter was a vegetarian (or going vegetarian). Sure enough, the counter-insights were on, followed by some dietary advice.

The situation was as follows: The father of the vegetarian or soon-to-be vegetarian stood fast defending his daughters choice (he seemed to imply that he was also considering giving up flesh), while the other two individuals expressed their sincere concern for his daughters' health stemming from her (and his I suppose?) poor choice.

A: "Well, you know, vegetarians have to be very concerned about their health."

B: "Like protein?"

A: "Yes, protein, but not only protein; they generally lack nutrients essential for energy and muscle health. There also seems to be a problem with vitamin absorption...But yes mainly protein."

B: "She seems to be doing well. But thanks."

A: "Blah, bliggity blah, blah, blah, blah."

I sat there wondering to myself, here they were discussing what food they were going to eat later (e.g., Italian meats and cheese) without a single mention about what foods may lead to hypertension, obesity, heart disease, diabetes and all those other health issues that plague nations of omnivores.

Neither of these two individuals now overly concerned about health and diet suggested that whatever they eat, they should reduce the overall amount of meat being consumed (to, essentially, three pieces of meat that are about the size of your palm per week) because evidence has been compiled recently which suggests that over-consumption of meat leads to various forms of cancer; or dairy and its correlated cancer risks. These now enlightened individuals didn't argue that they must make sure to eat their vegetables, fruits, grains and legumes (you know, those foods that compose the bulk of the "food pyramid"), while avoiding large amounts of meat and dairy (you know, those boxes up there with candy). Indeed, I didn't hear either of them mention to this man whose daughters' choice now interested them so greatly, that they had most likely allready consumed their allotment of meat for the week - by Tuesday - and they, therefore, ought to avoid eating anymore flesh.

It seems to me that there are unstated assumptions in these conversations we vegans and vegetarians constantly have with omnivores.

One, omnivores such as these two individuals seem to be implying that not being a vegan or vegetarian is all that one must do to avoid having health problems. Hence the lack of concern for their own diets and food choices, and their over-concern for the vegetarian. The assumption is obvious: being a vegetarian brings with it health issues whereas being an omnivore seems to not warrant any concern. Therefore, why have a little inner reflection - it's not necessary to turn all that anxiety and unease over food options upon the choices being made daily by themselves and the greater majority in our society.

This assumption is sound insofar as people are not dying from colon cancer and cholesterol related illnesses that seem to directly result from the consumption of flesh. This is plausible (?) or maybe it's an embarrassingly stupid assumption.

Another assumption is being suggested by the paternalistic tone of the advice. There seems to be a presumption that those going vegetarian don't consider the alleged health issues that confront them; therefore, individuals such as those two at the table are there to fill in the parental gap and offer their service. This type of gall is frustrating for any somewhat autonomous individual and we shouldn't be worried about letting those stand-in mothers know how we feel.

I think, however, what underlies it all is defensiveness disguised as care. We vegans and vegetarians are made aware everyday that our very presence causes irrational defensiveness on the part of omnivores because, well, I don't know. We make them feel uncomfortable, which, in keeping with our status as a minority group, is easily countered by challenges to our choices on various fronts: ethics, freedom, health. On each of these fronts, fortunately, not for us but for the billions of nonhumans we unnecessarily torture and kill annually, we have readily available (and correct) responses. Let's respond indeed; the time must pass when we allow these assumptions and false concerns to go unchallenged.

Vegans make non-vegans feel uncomfortable. There it is, isn't it? You feel this inside therefore out comes the same tired old arguments (excuses?) for the benefits of being an omnivore - or more accurately, not being a vegan. You may not even know that your sympathy is false, a disguise, a not-so-clever front. But it is.        

We have the upper hand because I think it's only appropriate that individuals such as the two paternalists mentioned above turn their consideration inward and figure out why we are increasingly the fattest and most unhealthy nation on this planet. All while meat industries continue their reign as one of the most prolific lobbying groups in Washington, D.C. and McDonalds convinces parents that cheeseburgers, french fries cooked in saturated flesh fat, apple slices (?), and a large coke is actually a well-balanced meal.

Please, hold your concern and, since you are apparently so concerned about health, consider your own choices and save the stereotypes and misinformed advice.  

Will be crossposted @ Vegan Soapbox