Nixon, China, and hamburgers

I picked up Dominion yesterday; it’s a new animal rights book by Michael Scully, Bush’s senior speechwriter. Yes, you read that right.

Only Nixon could go to China, and hopefully conservatives can stop factory “farming” based on sheer torture. Conservatives can stop hunters flying to Africa to blast caged, sedated elephants in the head. Scully argues, basically, from a natural law perspective; I don’t agree with all of his processes, but I can’t disagree with any of his statements on the way things should be.

It’s an interesting approach; he devotes a good chunk of the book to whacking Peter Singer with a stick, and drawing out some disturbing parallels between the cost-benefit analysis attitude of the factory farms and Singer’s opinions.

It’s currently #13 on amazon; hopefully it’ll sell a lot more than that.

The best/worst part is where he visits “Farm 2149” in Virginia. I’ve stuck further background info in parentheses where needed:

The answer can be seen in the swollen legs of the sows standing or trying to stand. To lie on their sides, a powerful inclination during months of confinement in twenty-two inches of space, they try to put their legs through the bars into a neighboring create. Fragile from the pigs’ abnormally large weight (500 pounds), and from rarely standing or walking, and then only on concrete, their legs get crushed and broken. About half of these pigs whose legs can be seen appear to have sprained or fractured limbs, never examined by a vet, never splinted, never even noticed anymore.

What’s that on the thigh of NPD 45-051? I ask. “That’s a tumor,” says Gay (an employee of the company that owns the farm; she has a doctorate in animal sciences.) The tumor, I observe, is the size of half a soccer ball. “Yeah, and she’s just one year old,” says Gay. “Getting thin, too. So she’s not desirable anymore.” What causes these tumors? A shrug. What happens when they get tumors? “She goes into the cull pen after her next litter.” The sow herself may not even survive till birth, Gay explains, but they have a new method, called “superovulation,” of harvesting the eggs and getting the live babies from the dead mothers.

A single piece of rubber tire hangs by a string over one crate in the entire barn, apparently someone’s idea of “environmental enrichment,” yet out of reach unless NPD 88-283 has been genetically engineered to lead five feet in the air. One of those “soft pliable objects” recommended by Temple Grandin (near as I can tell, the industry has tricked her into covering up their sins; try Google), whom Smithfield has paid for consultation, I have an awful hunch it was put there just so they can tell her, yes, Dr. Grandin, we’ve applied your findings, our pigs now have toys and they’re happier than ever. NPD 39-215 is bleeding profusely from a gash above her eye. Nothing a little Kopertox won’t fix. NPD 45-066 has a bright pink “X” painted on her back, indicating an imminent birth and transport to the Farrowing Barn. New life on the way, as the expectant mother noses at straw that isn’t there to make a nest she’ll never have for another litter she’ll never raise. NPD 38-453 pulls back, shaking and screaming wildly, as I lean down to look at a perfect litttle spiderweb between an iron bar and a wooden board at the base of her crate. No Charlotte to bring help.

Gay trundles ahead, directing my attention to this and that with the AI rod she has been using as a pointer, cheerfully unaware, apparently, of the profound betrayal of veterinary ethics everywhere around us - the sworn obligation of every veterinarian “to protect animal health and relieve animal suffering.” Who cares for these creatures, besides Gay and Roberto (a non-english speaking visa worker) and whatever other poor soul reports here every morning? Some Smithfield shill of a vet comes by every few days to check on the stock. But for the vets, too, they are not even animals anymore. They’re piglet machines. And tumors, fractured bones, festering sores, whatever, none of these receive serious medical attention anymore. If the ailment threatens a particularl production unit’s meat-yielding capacity, like the vaginal and urinary tract infections apparent from discharge stains on some of the sows, they’ll get treated. That can be justified by the return on labor and costs - though only if the unit isn’t too old to even bother, “old” meaning three or four years instead of one or two. Otherwise, it’s a quick cull and sale to the renderer. There is no sick ward here. For most, it’s either Kopertox (a copper napathe cure-all that’s the only treatment these pigs receive; it’s dangerous if ingested by either pigs or humans) or the cull pen. Nothing in between, no care anymore for animals as such, no regard for their suffering or for the most minimal duties of ordinary decency.

NPD 41-132 is lame and losing weight and dying in the cull pen - here, at least, able to stretch out her limbs. She never made it to her eighth litter, Gay tells me. By the miracle of fertitlity drugs she had eighteen piglets in her first litter - twice what a sow will normally carry - thirteen in her second litter, but then started losing weight and aborting, and now, says Gay, “has served her purpose” and will be killed. Lying near her is another sow who left us this morning, dying of pneumonia, and strewn elsewhere in the cull pen the bodies of six others who for some reason just never learned to love it. The man in the truck will come by soon to take care of them all. “Most of the culls go to market,” says Gay as we survey the day’s casualties, “but the ones with disease don’t go to Smithfield at all. These are, like, trash.”

The diseased ones don’t go to market because at Smithfield they have standards. They make only quality products here. You, the consumer, deserve only the best.

So this Scully character has a pig fetish.

This book definitely goes into my “What the ?!” list.

And to all those who think I am an insensitive prick think about every time you open your mouth and stuff some meat in it. If we all became vegetarians then this sort of animal abuse would never happen.

What makes you feel you have the right to breed and murder plant life? What, because it’s invertebrate, you think you’re ‘better’? Because you can’t look into its eyes, you think it has no soul? Think about that the next time you destroy millions of beautiful bacteria when you stuff a glob of yogurt in your maw. “Live culture!” - because if you’re not killing something, it’s just no fun, is it? If we found an even tastier microbe as the sole inhabitant of another planet, would we enslave them too simply for our nutrition? What if it were only marketable as a dessert? A good thing they didn’t get to Earth a few billion years ago, I guess. Or maybe not!

Face it, we are all guilty of having an impact on the universe. Let he who has never attempted influenzacide cast the first stone.

Chemotherapy is murder!

Bacteria and plants can’t suffer.

God, who cares? People suffer. Let’s worry about that first before we start fretting over the plight of the downtrodden pigs.

Not growing pigs in cages/stopping human suffering is an either/or. Right.

I don’t care about the suffering of pigs bred for food.* I’ll agree that we shouldn’t go out of our way to torture them, and that they should be kept in decent conditions. However, it seems a little nonsensical to fret over the emotional well being of an animal that we’re just going to eat.

  • all talking pigs, eg Babe, excepted

‘However, it seems a little nonsensical to fret over the emotional well being of an animal that we’re just going to eat.’

Right. Just as how it’s “nonsensical” to fret about the “emotional well being of people”; after all, we’re just going to die, right? Children with terminal cancer come to mind.

Of course, emotional well being isn’t the issue; I’m not sure if pigs have an “emotional well being.” They damn well appear to not like being covered in boils, cancer, and having their legs broken, though.

Right. Just as how it’s “nonsensical” to fret about the “emotional well being of people”; after all, we’re just going to die, right? Children with terminal cancer come to mind.

The big difference is that we’re not being bred as a food crop. As far as we know.

How does being bred as a food crop make them not suffer, or make their suffering meaningless?

To hurt others is to demean yourself. That is the most important thing, in this case.

Pigs are dirty smelly evil ugly big fat slobs … they deserve everything they get !

How does being bred as a food crop make them not suffer, or make their suffering meaningless?

I don’t know, but welcome to the wide world of GET IN MY BELLY.

Good to clear that up.

How do you know? I think that’s a very vertebrate-centric assumption, morally equivalent to the same one some people make about animals like pigs and dogs. The amazon review says that’s one of the points of discussion in the book, but no doubt Scully arbitrarily excludes the ‘lower’ single cell animals just like you. Just because they’re vastly different creatures, it’s convenient to assume they are just as content boiling in stomach acid as growing free in the wild. I think for all we know death is a far more tragic and painful experience for them than we can begin to imagine.

Where do you draw the line for creatures that don’t suffer? Snails? Clams? Insects? Jellyfish? Does it have to have a human-like nervous system, or is it possible that ours is not the only sense of ‘well being’ in the universe?

Maybe if humans and cancerous growths learned to understand and respect each other a little more, we’d stop trying to exterminate each other.

I am curious why pig farms apparently work so hard to cover their stock in boils, cancer, and break their legs. It must enhance the flavor or prevent spoilage. Or maybe they set it up in order to shock disinterested researchers who have no preconceived agenda.

Where do you draw the line for creatures that don’t suffer? Snails? Clams? Insects? Jellyfish? Does it have to have a human-like nervous system, or is it possible that ours is not the only sense of ‘well being’ in the universe?

If it has nerves, it experiences pain. Whether that in of itself is objectionable without conciousness is a separate issue; but pigs, etc. seem to exhibit some variety of it.

I am curious why pig farms apparently work so hard to cover their stock in boils, cancer, and break their legs. It must enhance the flavor or prevent spoilage. Or maybe they set it up in order to shock disinterested researchers who have no preconceived agenda.

I suppose they chose to show him that one because either they were proud of it or it was average. I can’t imagine why the industry wants to give itself bad PR.

By all means, though, rationalize away.

Florida will be voting this month whether to amend its constitution to protect pigs.

Somewhat to my own surprise, I’ve decided to vote for the amendment, and it currently looks like the amendment will be approved. The editorial consensus is that this is not an appropriate subject for a constitution, and, generally, I agree that constitutions should not become substitutes for statute books. On the other hand, I am opposed to causing unnecessary suffering for conscious animals, and I’ve concluded that this fundamental principle can be put in a constitution.

I would think everyone can agree that given the choice of either causing suffering or not causing suffering to animals, we should choose the latter when it is possible and reasonably feasible. For example, when dogs must be put away, we should do so in a humane manner, rather than torturing them to death. The same principle applies to the constitutional amendment. The additional costs of humane treatment for pregnant sows are not so great that they warrant the cruel practices that are currently used.

"If trees could scream, would we be so quick to cut them down?

If they screamed all the time, for no reason, we would."
-Jack Handy

I agree, but perhaps you left out the corrolary that was more to my point because you see the fallacy: If it does NOT have nerves, is it impossible for it to experience pain, or something comparably undesirable? No, it’s not impossible that there’s some reaction from such life forms. Do earthworms have nerves? I don’t know their biology, but I went fishing about a month ago and their reaction to getting put on a hook sure looked like ‘writhing in pain’ to me.

I think you’re trying to draw a line where you can shed some guilt about requiring the sacrifice of other life forms in order to continue your own. That’s a fine idea, but I think it’s just impractical. Believe me, when they make me omnipotent, my universe won’t require such antagonism between its creatures. The whole CO2->Plants->O2->Animals->CO2 is a structure worth keeping, and maybe the rest of our sustenance can be derived from engaging conversation and manners.

But that’s not how it works, at least in this neighborhood. Life feeds on life, and some creatures are better equipped to exploit the situation than others. For a more complete discussion, please see “More Of God’s Greatest Mistakes” by Oolon Coluphid.

Vegetarianism wouldn’t even be that much of a change for me. I think the only meat I’ve had all week was a turkey sandwich on Wednesday. I think I’ve just got far more important problems to worry about than the well being of the pigs, turkeys, oysters, fruit trees and acidophilus that I use primarily to keep from dying.

I agree, but perhaps you left out the corrolary that was more to my point because you see the fallacy: If it does NOT have nerves, is it impossible for it to experience pain, or something comparably undesirable? No, it’s not impossible that there’s some reaction from such life forms. Do earthworms have nerves? I don’t know their biology, but I went fishing about a month ago and their reaction to getting put on a hook sure looked like ‘writhing in pain’ to me.

Earthworms do have nerves, so it’s an irrelevant point. I suppose something without nerves could experience pain, but there’s no evidence that such creatures do.

That’s a fine idea, but I think it’s just impractical.

I rather doubt the planet’s going to convert to vegetarinism, but if we’re going to eat something we should have some standards of decency about it.

I think I’ve just got far more important problems to worry about than the well being of the pigs, turkeys, oysters, fruit trees and acidophilus that I use primarily to keep from dying.

There you go again! Including automata and conciousness in the same list.

Tim, the issue isn’t whether we believe we have the right to kill animals for food, clothing, sport, or whatever. And it isn’t whether we can find the specific point in the evolutionary tree where we can say every creature above this deserves to be treated as having “feelings”, and every creature below does not. Your slippery slope argument may prove that such a point doesn’t exist, but it does not mean that we can’t tell when animals are hurting.

You joked:

I am curious why pig farms apparently work so hard to cover their stock in boils, cancer, and break their legs. It must enhance the flavor or prevent spoilage. Or maybe they set it up in order to shock disinterested researchers who have no preconceived agenda.

That’s exactly the point. The farmers aren’t working hard to torture the pigs. They just don’t care, because there is no economic incentive to care. The reason these pigs are suffering is because it is cheaper for the industry to treat them as if they can’t feel pain. Period. However, knowing that they can feel pain, it’s up to me to decide for myself whether I’m ok with that or not: How many cents per pound of bacon am I willing to pay to know that the animal suffered as little as possible?

Some people may say they aren’t willing to pay a penny more; why should they care about whether the meat was happy before it arrived in the supermarket? Others may say they won’t buy the pain of animals at any price. Most people will be somewhere in between. If we want our industrial processes to be congruent with our values, we consumers must frame this and similar issues in economic terms. Because in capitalism, morality, ethics, and mercy all have a cost in dollars and cents per unit. You’re either willing to pay for your values, or you’re not.