Kothari's essay resonated with me--I, too, moved to the United States as a child. And although food issues were not as ripe with conflict as they were for her, I am beginning to realize, more and more that:
Monday, September 14, 2009
Cabbage Pie
Kothari's essay resonated with me--I, too, moved to the United States as a child. And although food issues were not as ripe with conflict as they were for her, I am beginning to realize, more and more that:
Friday, September 4, 2009
Companion Animals
I've also been reading Prof. Gary Francione's Animals as Persons and thinking about companion animals--about their status in our homes, and about animals' status in general. Francione states that "as a legal matter, we do not regard animals as having any value apart from the value we accord them" (104). Moreover, "the equal consideration of animal interests necessarily requires the recognition that non-humans have a right not to be treated as the property of humans" (106).
To a vegan, especially, these concepts seem pretty logical and aren't a far stretch from the rest of Francione's argument. However, I think these concepts are more difficult to grasp, to live according to--it is easier to accept the idea that "food" and "entertainment" animals are not property, and more difficult to see companion animals as having inherent value, as not property.
Indeed, it is more often than not that companion animals are treated as though they have inherent value--and yet the demand for these animals that are clearly are only ever marked as "companion" (fetishized objects) is problematic.
If someone were to go to a (dog, cat, hedgehog, etc.) breeder in order to obtain a "pet," she would be signaling a demand to this particular producer, who will in turn force the animals within his control to breed in order to create the supply. This chain of supply and demand becomes especially transparent (at least to me) in a scenario where there is a waiting list for an animal to be born and weaned to fulfill the role that is created for him/her--as "pet." From inception--and even before then--the animal's value is dictated by the role that humans impose, not by the animal's inherent value; in becoming a "pet," the animal is expected to fulfill the human's expectations, not his or her own instincts and wishes. In this sense, the animal is treated more as a thing. This kind of misguided action (obtaining an animal from a breeder, or obtaining an animal for the role of "pet") not only goes against most people's intuitive belief that animals have inherent value--their own personality, memories, desires--but clearly indicates a violation of the vegan ethics. If veganism renounces the idea that animals should be used for food, clothing, and entertainment, we should certainly strive for moral consistency and view companion animals as part of the chain of animal "products."
When considering obtaining a companion animal, rescued animals pose less of a problem--they are inadvertent victims of the system, and oftentimes the ones who have been rejected by the previous "owner;" these rejected animals are evidence (symptoms) of a failed system--if people recognized inherent value of animals, they would stop a) demanding "pets" or b) (especially in instances where the animal's interests conflict with those of the human "owner") discard them at their convenience. To provide a home for a mature animal does not create that same demand, as breeders do not receive the signal to "produce" more animals through forced breeding. Again, I stress that veganism demands attention to not only what we eat and wear, but also awareness of the other ways in which animals are exploited (for entertainment or as pets).
A few years ago, I had a hedgehog, and she was one of the best companions I could ever hope for; when thinking of a companion for Feast, I began considering another hedgehog. However, thinking more extensively about it, I realized that if I want a hedgehog, this desire is selfish (I'd have to go to a breeder to obtain her), and is only a desire to fulfill my human need (whim)--this desire does not consider the interests of the animal mother or offspring.
What we must do is work towards the demystification of everyday practices--whether it's eating an animal or considerint providing a home for one. If veganism signifies a rejection of the commodity status of non-humans, we should be thorough, and carry that belief to the realm (and treatment of) companion animals. Many of the things I have mentioned in this post seem intuitive, but like many things close at hand, they are sometimes the very ideas that we pay least attention to and take for granted.
(A picture of very young Feast and Big, the hedgehog.)
Monday, August 24, 2009
Theory and Practice
I have been reading the work of Gary Francione--most recently, I began Animals as Persons (2008); I also am a frequent visitor to his site and listen to his podcasts. His voice is one that I respect for its clarity and consistency on ethical veganism; he does not back down on issues and addresses them tactfully and respectfully; moreover, he is inventive in finding opportunities for vegan education. In his latest podcast, he addresses violence in general, and more specifically, violence directed at institutions that use animals (vivisectionists, producers of flesh from "food animals," venues that use animals for entertainment purposes, etc.). He admonishes that violence against these does not have a cultural context, that it is ineffective because: a) attacking/destroying one animal-exploiting supplier only means that the demand for that animal "product" (fur, leather, flesh, excretion, etc.) will be taken up by somebody else and b) in the eyes of the general public, the violent act further demonizes anyone associated with the movement for animal rights. Those are two points that really caught my attention--this perspective is so different from and opposed to the kinds of escapades people have come to expect from PETA, it's inspiring. Francione talks about and practices what I believe would be the most effective approach in promoting veganism: active vegan education and a consistently vegan lifestyle.
In the last six months or so, I have been immersing myself in the discourse of animal rights theory, and have been finding this foray incredibly helpful--I am able to converse with people more easily on the topic of veganism, am able to be more rational and informed within conversations. In addition to this, I also try to share vegan food with those around me at any available opportunity (there aren't many, but I always come prepared to a pot-luck). I find the union of theory and practice to be most effective. I think that even if I encourage people to consider (if not reconsider) their food and lifestyle choices, I have succeeded in inciting some change for the better, have allowed another person or two a glimpse outside of the normative participation in exploitative practices.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Whizbang Chicken Plucker, Or: The Arbitrary Distinction between Food and Companion Animals
I won't say anything about the contact, except that she's interested in sustainable living, and I'm guessing this to be one of the things she's doing to get to know this step in producing "food." I would definitely agree with the sentiment of the endeavor--that it is good for people to be familiar with the processes behind the manufacturing of food: too often, we separate the product from the process; we are urged to consume the packaged and convenient flesh and ignore what is done to the animal. However, the video is distressing: the handling of the chickens is nonchalant, and as the machine is ripping the feathers out of the chickens, the onlookers even chuckle. Why?
Since becoming vegan, I have been more and more sensitive to the construction of normative behaviors--how people defend, justify, and ignore what to me (us) seems unacceptable, despicable, disgusting. This was just another instance--the chicken-plucking--to which I was more sensitive. It is not just something that is perhaps repulsive--although it is that, in its graphic display of what the animal goes through to become "meat;" the reaction of the participants is symptomatic of the overall attitude: the laugh is at the spectacle, rather than the actual occurrence of the killing and deformation of the creatures. Despite being aware of the process of dismembering the chickens, there is no change in perception, and the animal is viewed as just that--a means to human ends, not as an entity with interests of its own.
It's peculiar--so often people say that they don't wish to think of the process that takes the animal from its life to their plate, etc., but it is apparent that even thinking (and seeing) the process doesn't directly disrupt that: the chickens being de-feathered in the Whizbang were already seen as food before the process (and thus, casually held by the feet and dunked in cold water beforehand--not a dead being, but food).
This separation is cultivated in our culture--the inconsistency between the treatment of companion and "food animals" is forgotten; if the distinction was recognized as completely arbitrary, perhaps the state of affairs would be different. I'm not sure what else to say at this point, so I'll leave it up to Matt to continue in his (longer) post in the same vein.
*After I started writing the post, I looked up the instrument--the plucker--and was dismayed to find several YouTube videos of "the thing in action"...apparently, this is a very common device--just something I didn't know about; and of course--arguably--it is a much more "humane" way to mutilate chickens and remove their feathers.
Some thoughts on ethical veganism.
Much of this post is in reply to Pat, who asked some questions about our views on eating meat. I don't want to speak for both of us, so I'll just answer for myself and Kat can add or amend as she sees fit. I think one way of discussing vegetarianism and veganism is to describe why and how I first came to these decisions. Some of the hurdles that vegans and vegetarians face is a lack of understanding about the decision or even about what such decisions entail. Unfortunately, many vegetarians and vegans become defensive when they are questioned by others instead of trying to offer any explanation. This can only lead to more misunderstanding.
I turned to vegetarianism because I could no longer separate the animal from the meat. I tried to separate the idea of the animal from the thing on my dinner plate, but realized that this disconnect was harmful and unnatural. There must be a direct connection between cause and effect, before and after, and to deny this is to deny an essential part of our own understanding. However, this separation is made easy for us by those from whom we buy such products. We are disconnected from our own source of nutrition because we don't see where it comes from or what it must face. This disconnect practically does not exist where vegetables are considered. We see plant growth everyday and know how it operates, but we don't see the same thing with meat. Along with this disconnect comes a loss of connection with the source of our nutrition. Our relationship to the packaged meat in the store is a fetish for the real relationship which must exist but is lost with the animal, and the plants and the earth before that.
The other aspect which originally led to my vegetarianism was a growth in my perception of the rights to happiness and life that other beings possess. I won't argue that all animals are equal or that animals are equal to humans (I do think that there is an affinity for proximity and likeness). I will say, however, that mutual respect is a premium I could never get around. It is unnecessary for me to end the life of another animal in order for me to remain healthy, and even to thrive. Consumption of these items is a luxury that necessarily comes at the detriment of others.
This may lead to the question of animals that die of natural causes. The question may be stated: "Is one ethically permitted to consume an animal, provided one does not cause the death of the animal?" In some cases, the question is moot. If an animal dies of illness or is killed by a predator, the carcass will likely be unfit to eat. In other cases, an animal that dies of old age would likely be unpalatable. So this question asks of unlikely circumstances that involve an animal dying in such a way as to leave a carcass which would be safe and palatable to eat. I would still answer this question in the negative. This question depends upon a view of eating flesh as normal. A vegan like myself wouldn't even think about this as an option anymore than an omnivore would think of pieces of wood or leather as viable food options.
Perhaps a different way of viewing the question would be to consider veganism as a positive, or liberating philosophy instead of a negative, or limiting, philosophy. Veganism is not built around the idea that I must refrain from eating one thing or another, but that my dedication to the recognition of the rights of sentient beings precludes my viewing them as consumable object, or objects at all for that matter. If one considers a liberating view of veganism, the question of eating animals or what they produce is null. It is only when one considers veganism from the limiting perspective that such loop holes become true questions.
Finally, the question may arise regarding the celebration of an animal's life by eating it. Pat asks about our views on this subject, but quickly points out that he doesn't mean a beloved dog, but a pet cow or chicken. I think that this question also relates to whether we view veganism as a liberating or limiting philosophy. If we see it as the former, then their is no question that the consumption of a pet is always inappropriate, whatever sort of animal the pet is. This question leads to two other questions, though: in what way would eating an animal be considered honoring its life? and what really is the difference between a cow and a dog? I don't see the connection between eating a pet and honor. Perhaps because of my point of view on the matter, I can only see this as degrading. As for the second question: why would we make a distinction between a dog and a cow? As far as I can see, this distinction is arbitrary. If a person kept a cow as a pet in the same way that s/he would keep a dog as a pet, then I would imagine that person would be just as horrified at the prospect of eating the cow as the dog. Just because a cow is conventionally labeled "food" would not change the way the owner would care for it or regard it.
There is more that I could write, but I think I'll cut it off here. Thanks Pat for your questions. I hope that I was able to provide some answers. Feel free to reply or ask more, I'm open to what others think, too.