Eating Animals

I read Jonathan Safran Foer's book Eating Animals over a year ago--shortly after it was first released--but have been thinking about it since then, on and off, and was reminded of it again recently. It wasn't anything specific that reminded me, but I was thinking about the ways in which an argument becomes compelling, and I was reminded of Foer. Foer does not advocate for veganism, but what he does do is open a conversation (or a mindset or a framework) in which veganism becomes a meaningful stance to a greater number of people. He examines the kinds of relationships that people have with food--with meat, specifically--and he traces those relationships to their origins, both in terms of conceptualization and production. Foer exposes the kinds of activities that make meat production possible on the level demanded by the population of the United States. He is not the first to do this, as many are quick to point out; in fact, he does not discuss anything that is beyond the scope of such authors as Gary Francione or Michael Pollan (I know that these two are rather different in their perspectives, but they are useful in this illustration specifically because of their differences). As I was reading Eating Animals, I kept trying to pinpoint the exact factor that made the book different from others I'd read on the same topic--I thought that it was somehow more compelling, more convincing, and more capable of inciting people to re-write their own outdated and harmful relationships with food. I could see how the book could encourage people to either refuse to eat meat altogether or consider more seriously the origins of meat and the ramifications of continuing to consume it.

The looming question, nonetheless, was always "why is Foer so compelling?" As a vegan, I find Gary Francione's books and opinions to be clear, straightforward, and quite convincing. I like Francione's insistence on vegan education and consistency (of beliefs and practices) as major ways of enacting change; Foer, on the other hand, presents himself as someone who often wavered in the ethics of food choices, and oscillated between being an omnivore and being a vegetarian. However, when speaking to others about veganism, I am more likely to mention Foer, not Francione, despite the fact that I disagree with several of his points.

This week, as I was reading through Carl Dennis' Poetry as Persuasion--the section on political poetry, specifically--I realized exactly what it is that makes Foer's voice more effective--it is not only Foer's willingness to speak more for himself than for the overall cause, but also his recognition of the limits of his position. Dennis maintains that this is an element necessary for effective political poetry, lest is become propaganda. Foer does not impose limitations, but opens possibilities for dialogue, as I mentioned earlier. Carl Dennis also argues for "a greater openness to the world" rather than a "subjective agenda." Foer, in his empathy with the great variety of people--from animal rights activists to "livestock" farmers, does this, too. I certainly do agree with Francione in my own personal beliefs in practices--that veganism is the moral baseline; but people have to first stop to consider food at all before stopping to consider the ethical implications thereof. Thankfully, based on the recently-passed Dietary Guidelines, people are starting to reconsider food. And this is a step in the right direction, indeed.

Food, Inc. Student Reactions

Last week, I showed portions of Food, Inc. to the students in all three of my classes; because I teach composition and rhetorical analysis, I felt that the movie would be something that they could discuss both in terms of structure and content. What I wasn't expecting was the overwhelmingly positive reaction to the message: in all three of my classes, I had students who were asking about where they can watch the movie in its entirety (and they sounded earnest enough that I suspect they will actually seek it out). In all three of my classes, there was critical discussion of the kinds of ways our food choices affect everything else--our bodies, the environment, economy, etc.
One thing, in particular, seemed to be a catching point for them--it was something that was brought up in every class, and something that I had to address honestly: they were concerned that I was trying to convert them to veganism by showing them this film.

My students--whether it's just one in a given class, or a handful--know that I am a vegan. I wasn't ever particularly concealing the fact, and because I got to know some of them while waiting for the preceding class to vacate the classroom in which I teach, I would inevitably end up discussing food and food issues with them. I remember that one of my students, in what I like to think is a common knee-jerk response to veganism, said that my stance was an extreme one, one that he could never understand or support. There are others who are less shocked by veganism now, and are more curious and want to have conversations with me about it. After I showed the section of Food, Inc., and after a discussion was already progressing, someone asked if I had an interest in getting them to stop eating meat--if I was trying to influence them in a way that would support my position... To which I replied, "Actually, I am not trying to tell you how to eat; I am trying to inform you about what you are already eating, and about the hidden ways in which everyday food choices are implicated in the world." I told them that in a class that focuses on analytical skills and examines current issues, it would be an oversight to not talk about food/meat.

In one of my classes, a student spoke out against factory farming--his was, by far, the most urgent and concerned voice; he was also quite well-informed about factory farming. His family owns a vinyard and a farm, and they raise their own animals and consume them. He said that exactly the ways of food production criticized in Food, Inc. were the same ones his father stood so firmly against--and it was surprising to him to see me, a vegan, agree with the kind of values upheld by his family. I, as a vegan, was surprised to have him on my side as I was addressing some other concerns brought up by his peers. This does not mean that I was compromising my position, nor did I suddenly start questioning the foundation of my ethical veganism, but I think the event taught me a few different ways in which to approach the topic and introduce it to those unfamiliar with it. Because my student and I were on the same side of the argument against factory farming, others saw veganism not just as something extreme or ridiculous or limiting, but as another way to promote criticism of the present-day methods of food production. In all my classes, the students were eager to discuss possible solutions to the problems of animal agriculture, and I think that was my goal--to allow them to see that there are people surviving quite well outside of the manipulative and mystified network of factory farming. What I thought would be a difficult topic to discuss turned out to be not only a rewarding lesson for me, but a productive point of analysis for them. In the future, I will be less hesitant to teach not just this movie, but also other texts, such as Jonathan Safran Foer's Eating Animals.

Theory and Practice

It has been some while since the last post, but I want to assure you that the blog is still very much alive. As some of you may already know, I have been looking for a job for the duration of the entire spring and summer, and recently, something has turned up. Now, with the assurance that I am employed and some financial stability, I think I will return to posting more regularly.

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.