AN UNPOPULAR VIEW OF SOCIAL CHANGE
Food just might be the most powerful medium of social change, although most people don’t see it that way. In the 20th Century, with the development of concentrated feeding operations (CAFOS, or factory farms) the way human animals thought of nonhuman animals took a bit of a turn. Though we used nonhuman animals for virtually whatever purpose we wanted before then, the Industrial Revolution led to the dominance, control, exploitation, mutilation and slaughter of nonhuman animals as an industry. And as an industry that is part of a capitalist system, its main objective is profit.
That being the case, anything goes when using animals. If greater profit can be reaped from cramming more animals together, so be it. If, when crammed together, the animals attack and injure each other and themselves, we can cut off their ears, toes, tails, beaks. Whatever part does damage, we snip it off. Whatever part gets damaged the most, we can snip that off, as well.
Now, though the treatment of nonhuman animals “produced” in factory farms is indeed hideous, we must not stop short of addressing the core problem by merely blaming intensive farms for their daily acts of barbarism. They are not alone in their unjust treatment of the ten billion land animals killed in the United States just for the taste of their flesh or secretions.
It is something far more basic that creates the atmosphere for the unnecessary yet socially acceptable mass slaughter of billions of sentient beings each year: we use them for whatever we want to because we can. We have decided that our species is better than theirs, simply because we say so. Might makes right, we say.
Let’s think about this for a moment. We in America feel a duty to certain species that we decided to domesticate (i.e., cats, dogs and horses), and we feel a duty to other species because they are particularly cute, intelligent (according to our definition of intelligence) or human-like, such as dolphins, chimpanzees and other primates. But that duty stops where we say it stops. We can still use them for our purposes, but we consider certain treatment of them to be “cruel,” “inhumane,” or “criminal.” Where is the logic in that? Where is the justice?
We have no sense of duty to all beings capable of the pleasure, pain, terror, boredom and frustration. We discriminate according to the value we assign; we do what suits our interests. We have doomed certain species to “food,” and raised others to “pet,” at no point factoring in the intrinsic value of the individuals. At no point do we say, “The pig has the same desire to live a life free of domination, exploitation and slaughter as the dog does.” In fact, we say close to the opposite with: “Dogs are worthy of our protection and our companionship, while pigs are worthy of our dinner plates.”
This system is unjust, regardless of whether you’re looking at Farmer Joe’s operation or Perdue’s. Though factory farming is an embarrassment of atrocity, the mere fact that we are so eager to use other sentient beings for our own gain is the real problem. Fortunately, there’s a way to change this unjust system. There’s a nonviolent way to send the message that what we have done to nonhuman animals is unacceptable and must stop. It’s a revolution of sorts, aimed at freeing nonhuman animals from the bondage of our palates. Contrary to popular belief, it’s inexpensive, it’s easy, and it doesn’t have to involve soy products or any “faux” meat. And it strikes a blow like no other to a system that has institutionalized the abuse of animals, people and Planet Earth. It’s called veganism.















