CASEBOOK
As health experts increasingly worry about heart disease and obesity, this is an especially good time for Americans to evaluate the merits of meat-eating. This issue goes well beyond health and nutrition, however. According to the Vegetarian Resource Group, the over 8 million vegetarians and vegans who live in the United States become vegetarians for a variety of reasons—nutritional, ethical, environmental, and religious. In other words, their choice to forego meat is not only personal but also cultural. As Jonathan Safran Foer writes in “Let Them Eat Dog,” “Food is not rational. Food is culture, habit, craving, and identity.”
As shown by the increasing popularity of organic and locally grown food as well as by the popularity of books such as Jonathan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals (2009) and documentaries such as Food, Inc. (2008) and Fed Up (2014), our culture seems obsessed with healthy eating. Of course, dietary controversies are not new—and neither is vegetarianism, which has long been associated with certain religious traditions (Jainism and various sects of Hinduism, for example). Western philosophers from Pythagoras to Jean-Jacques Rousseau and René Descartes also advocated forms of vegetarianism. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, a vegetarian diet was associated with radical politics. The English Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley endorsed the practice of vegetarianism—and even blamed some of the excesses of the French Revolution on meat-eating. In the United States, vegetarianism has had strong advocates dating back to the founding of our country. Presbyterian minister and dietary reformer Sylvester Graham, for example, helped found the American Vegetarian Society in 1850. He touted the benefits of a high-fiber diet of fruits and vegetables—the staple of which was the “Graham cracker,” made of whole-wheat flour and bran. According to the zealous Graham, who attracted a sizable following, a meatless diet improved both health and personal morality.
Although the language and aims of vegetarians may have changed, many still see the choice to eat—or not eat—meat as a profoundly moral and ethical decision, not just a matter of personal choice. All the writers in this casebook agree that the choice to eat meat depends on a variety of social, environmental, and cultural factors. In an essay modeled on Jonathan Swift’s famous satire “A Modest Proposal,” Jonathan Safran Foer highlights the logical and ethical inconsistency of those who justify consuming animals such as chickens, pigs, and cows for food even though they would be horrified by killing and eating domesticated dogs and cats. Rancher Nicolette Hahn Niman addresses the connection between food production and climate change but corrects some common misperceptions about the relative environmental effects of vegetarianism and meat-eating. Daniel Payne argues that human beings are ultimately omnivores but that when making dietary choices, people must consider the realities of the way animals are raised. He argues that those who eat meat should consume only “humane” meat; in contrast, longtime vegan and activist Sunaura Taylor makes the case that the phrase humane meat is a contradiction in terms.
This opinion essay is from the October 31, 2009, edition of the New York Times.
Is eating a hamburger the global warming equivalent of driving a Hummer? This week an article in the Times of London carried a headline that blared: “Give Up Meat to Save the Planet.” Former Vice President Al Gore, who has made climate change his signature issue, has even been assailed for omnivorous eating by animal rights activists.1
It’s true that food production is an important contributor to climate change. And the claim that meat (especially beef) is closely linked to global warming has received some credible backing, including by the United Nations and University of Chicago. Both institutions have issued reports that have been widely summarized as condemning meat-eating.2
But that’s an overly simplistic conclusion to draw from the research. To a rancher like me, who raises cattle, goats, and turkeys the traditional way (on grass), the studies show only that the prevailing methods of producing meat—that is, crowding animals together in factory farms, storing their waste in giant lagoons, and cutting down forests to grow crops to feed them—cause substantial greenhouse gases. It could be, in fact, that a conscientious meat eater may have a more environmentally friendly diet than your average vegetarian.3
So what is the real story of meat’s connection to global warming? Answering the question requires examining the individual greenhouse gases involved: carbon dioxide, methane, and nitrous oxides.4
“So what is the real story of meat’s connection to global warming?”
Carbon dioxide makes up the majority of agriculture-related greenhouse emissions. In American farming, most carbon dioxide emissions come from fuel burned to operate vehicles and equipment. World agricultural carbon emissions, on the other hand, result primarily from the clearing of woods for crop growing and livestock grazing. During the 1990s, tropical deforestation in Brazil, India, Indonesia, Sudan, and other developing countries caused 15 percent to 35 percent of annual global fossil fuel emissions.5
Much Brazilian deforestation is connected to soybean cultivation. As much as 70 percent of areas newly cleared for agriculture in Mato Grosso State in Brazil is being used to grow soybeans. Over half of Brazil’s soy harvest is controlled by a handful of international agribusiness companies, which ship it all over the world for animal feed and food products, causing emissions in the process.6
Meat and dairy eaters need not be part of this. Many smaller, traditional farms and ranches in the United States have scant connection to carbon dioxide emissions because they keep their animals outdoors on pasture and make little use of machinery.7
Moreover, those farmers generally use less soy than industrial operations do, and those who do often grow their own, so there are no emissions from long-distance transport and zero chance their farms contributed to deforestation in the developing world.8
In contrast to traditional farms, industrial livestock and poultry facilities keep animals in buildings with mechanized systems for feeding, lighting, sewage flushing, ventilation, heating, and cooling, all of which generate emissions. These factory farms are also soy guzzlers and acquire much of their feed overseas. You can reduce your contribution to carbon dioxide emissions by avoiding industrially produced meat and dairy products.9
Unfortunately for vegetarians who rely on it for protein, avoiding soy from deforested croplands may be more difficult: as the Organic Consumers Association notes, Brazilian soy is common (and unlabeled) in tofu and soymilk sold in American supermarkets.10
Methane is agriculture’s second-largest greenhouse gas. Wetland rice fields alone account for as much as 29 percent of the world’s human-generated methane. In animal farming, much of the methane comes from lagoons of liquefied manure at industrial facilities, which are as nauseating as they sound.11
This isn’t a problem at traditional farms. “Before the 1970s, methane emissions from manure were minimal because the majority of livestock farms in the U.S. were small operations where animals deposited manure in pastures and corrals,” the Environmental Protection Agency says. The E.P.A. found that with the rapid rise of factory farms, liquefied manure systems became the norm and methane emissions skyrocketed. You can reduce your methane emissions by seeking out meat from animals raised outdoors on traditional farms.12
Critics of meat-eating often point out that cattle are prime culprits in methane production. Fortunately, the cause of these methane emissions is understood, and their production can be reduced.13
Much of the problem arises when livestock eat poor-quality forages, throwing their digestive systems out of balance. Livestock nutrition experts have demonstrated that by making minor improvements in animal diets (like providing nutrient-laden salt licks) they can cut enteric methane by half. Other practices, like adding certain proteins to ruminant diets, can reduce methane production per unit of milk or meat by a factor of six, according to research at Australia’s University of New England. Enteric methane emissions can also be substantially reduced when cattle are regularly rotated onto fresh pastures, researchers at University of Louisiana have confirmed.14
Finally, livestock farming plays a role in nitrous oxide emissions, which make up around 5 percent of this country’s total greenhouse gases. More than three-quarters of farming’s nitrous oxide emissions result from manmade fertilizers. Thus, you can reduce nitrous oxide emissions by buying meat and dairy products from animals that were not fed fertilized crops—in other words, from animals raised on grass or raised organically.15
In contrast to factory farming, well-managed, non-industrialized animal farming minimizes greenhouse gases and can even benefit the environment. For example, properly timed cattle grazing can increase vegetation by as much as 45 percent, North Dakota State University researchers have found. And grazing by large herbivores (including cattle) is essential for wellfunctioning prairie ecosystems, research at Kansas State University has determined.16
Additionally, several recent studies show that pasture and grassland areas used for livestock reduce global warming by acting as carbon sinks. Converting croplands to pasture, which reduces erosion, effectively sequesters significant amounts of carbon. One analysis published in the journal Global Change Biology showed a 19 percent increase in soil carbon after land changed from cropland to pasture. What’s more, animal grazing reduces the need for the fertilizers and fuel used by farm machinery in crop cultivation, things that aggravate climate change.17
Livestock grazing has other noteworthy environmental benefits as well. Compared to cropland, perennial pastures used for grazing can decrease soil erosion by 80 percent and markedly improve water quality, Minnesota’s Land Stewardship Project research has found. Even the United Nations report acknowledges, “There is growing evidence that both cattle ranching and pastoralism can have positive impacts on biodiversity.”18
As the contrast between the environmental impact of traditional farming and industrial farming shows, efforts to minimize greenhouse gases need to be much more sophisticated than just making blanket condemnations of certain foods. Farming methods vary tremendously, leading to widely variable global warming contributions for every food we eat. Recent research in Sweden shows that, depending on how and where a food is produced, its carbon dioxide emissions vary by a factor of 10.19
And it should also be noted that farmers bear only a portion of the blame for greenhouse gas emissions in the food system. Only about one-fifth of the food system’s energy use is farm-related, according to University of Wisconsin research. And the Soil Association in Britain estimates that only half of food’s total greenhouse impact has any connection to farms. The rest comes from processing, transportation, storage, retailing, and food preparation. The seemingly innocent potato chip, for instance, turns out to be a dreadfully climate-hostile food. Foods that are minimally processed, in season and locally grown, like those available at farmers’ markets and backyard gardens, are generally the most climate-friendly.20
Rampant waste at the processing, retail, and household stages compounds the problem. About half of the food produced in the United States is thrown away, according to University of Arizona research. Thus, a consumer could measurably reduce personal global warming impact simply by more judicious grocery purchasing and use.21
None of us, whether we are vegan or omnivore, can entirely avoid foods that play a role in global warming. Singling out meat is misleading and unhelpful, especially since few people are likely to entirely abandon animal-based foods. Mr. Gore, for one, apparently has no intention of going vegan. The 90 percent of Americans who eat meat and dairy are likely to respond the same way.22
Still, there are numerous reasonable ways to reduce our individual contributions to climate change through our food choices. Because it takes more resources to produce meat and dairy than, say, fresh locally grown carrots, it’s sensible to cut back on consumption of animal-based foods. More important, all eaters can lower their global warming contribution by following these simple rules: avoid processed foods and those from industrialized farms; reduce food waste; and buy local and in season.23
READING ARGUMENTS
Payne’s essay appeared on TheFederalist.com on June 24, 2014.
While driving around Richmond the other day, I noticed, on the back of a car, a remarkably candid bumper sticker: “Humane meat is yuppie bullshit,” it claimed, and advised the reader to “ask any cow” to confirm this.1
Judging by the license plate above this profound eight-word manifesto, the driver of the vehicle was an adherent of straight-edge veganism, a philosophy which, if you’re not in the know, combines the absolute worst aspects of both Jainism and alternative music: straight-edge vegans consume no meat (indeed, no animal products at all), drink no alcohol, and obsess over a preachy sub-genre of hardcore music that, to any reasonable observer, is patently unlistenable. You will know if you ever encounter one of these mosh-happy latter-day Temperance Leaguers, if only because you will remember the fervency and the tiresome moral zeal with which they endure their uninspiring diet and their atrocious music.2
But back to that erudite bumper sticker: “Humane meat is yuppie bullshit.” The logic being, of course, that no meat can be “humane,” if only because eating meat involves killing animals, and killing animals is allegedly wrong. There are a great many interesting and compelling arguments in favor of vegetarianism, and maybe (maybe) even one or two to be made in favor of veganism; nevertheless, there are many more arguments in favor of eating animals, and they are better than the ones the vegetarians and vegans make. Humans will probably always eat animals, and this is, in the end, as it should be.3
But it remains a valid question as to how humans shall eat the meat they will inevitably consume, and in this regard I will disagree with the percipient slogan to be found on the vegan bumper sticker: “humane” meat is great, it is ethically logical, and it should be what you’re eating if you’re eating animals.4
“Humans will probably always eat animals, and this is, in the end, as it should be.”
What Is “Humane Meat”?
First, let’s define what “humane meat” really means. The definition changes a little bit depending upon the animals, but for nearly all farm livestock it will mean a life spent entirely on pasture (aside from the short trip to the slaughterhouse), with abundant room to move and engage in habits and tendencies specific to its evolutionary biology. That’s a mouthful (meat always is), but it’s a fairly accurate summation of what my brother and sister-in-law refer to as “happy meat.”5
One must be so specific because a fairly successful advertising campaign utilizes clever marketing language such as “all natural” and “farm fresh,” utterly meaningless phrases, to trick you into thinking you’re getting something you’re not. Shopping for price is always wise; shopping against hucksterism should be encouraged, as well. If one is committed to eating humanely, one needs to be as judicious a customer as many companies wish you not to be.6
What would this look like in practice? Taking as an example the lovely farm outside of Richmond from which I get most of my meat and dairy, this means beef and dairy cows on grass for their entire lives, eating from the same; laying hens and meat birds on grass as well, fed from both the pasture floor and the grain supplement they receive; and pigs both wallowing in paddocks and wandering in a nearby forest (if you’ve got one of the latter). These kinds of farms are invariably local, which means you’ll probably find most of this kind of meat at the nearest farmer’s market.7
There are a number of truly excellent national suppliers from which you can order this type of meat in bulk, if you’ve no good farm nearby, but buying local from the market is easier, and more viscerally appealing: a great deal of ink has been spilled singing the praises of “getting to know your farmer,” but truthfully, there really is something to be said for it. There is a reason we feel so special when we personally know the chef who’s preparing our food, after all—then, too, there is a reason your mother’s cooking tastes so uniquely good.8
Isn’t This Some Sort of Gimmick?
The $64,000 question, which invariably and appropriately arises, is: Why should we eat this way? It is more expensive, after all, and while there are many more farmers’ markets than there used to be, they are still less convenient than the nearby supermarket or Wal-mart, the latter two of which offer a greater abundance and variety of meats—of foods in general—than humanity has ever known. Why give up getting your meat as conveniently and as cheaply as possible?9
Simply put, the convenience and price advantage afforded by industrial food does not justify the suffering to which industrial farm animals are subject. It cannot, unless we are prepared to invert the concepts of both suffering and justification: modern factory farms are hellhouses of animal suffering writ large. The literature with which vegetarians and vegans often make their points, while wrong in its desired outcome, is nonetheless correct about the circumstances it unveils. Pig factory farming, in particular, is a uniquely brutal form of torture to inflict upon a very intelligent type of animal, cramming pigs into slum tenement conditions, forcing pregnant sows into brutal gestation crates, and creating conditions ripe for the abuse of animals. Cows are forced into similar crowded conditions on their own factory farms and made to eat a diet of grain that makes them sick, and they must wade around in a knee-deep, toxic sea of their own waste while they’re doing it. Chickens raised for meat in an industrial setting are, as usual, crowded into impossibly dense conditions, and they often suffer from skeletal problems and organ failure due to how fast they grow; their lot, however, is roses compared with laying hens, which are subject to conditions that can only be described as nightmarish.10
And of course, the industrial farm feeds into the industrial slaughterhouse, which is usually the apex of factory farm suffering. It is almost impossible to have avoided seeing at least one surreptitious PETA video of industrial abattoirs—and what one usually sees is unmitigated misery in shocking abundance. Surely many animals enter and exit the slaughterhouse with blessed unawareness; it is doubtless that many are processed with a Prussian efficiency that allows for minimal suffering. Nevertheless, the industrial system has permitted animal agony in spades, and it has shown little inclination to curb the worst of its abuses in any systematic sense. That is to say, the system itself begets the problems, and the overseers of factory farming have no desire to change the system.11
No Need for Government Regulation
The standard response for many is to stop eating meat, or, if you’re an utterly simpleminded Progressive or left-liberal, to call for more government regulation of the agriculture industry (as if it wasn’t already regulated enough). There is a better solution, one that acknowledges the healthy benefits and the basic ethicality of eating meat and also recognizes the flagrant inability of the U.S. government to do anything right. Humanely raised meat does not allow for these savage abuses of morality and of nature’s and God’s design. Most humane farmers, after all, are, well, humane, and in any event there is no efficiency in abusing your animals within these types of operations: when nature is respected and good ethics are followed, you tend not to have any need or desire to be cruel to your livestock.12
It is true that this type of eating is more expensive, and there are a number of reasonable objections to a heftier price tag for any kind of food. One of the most frequent that I have heard, for instance, is that local, humanely raised meat is too expensive for poorer people to purchase, so we should not encourage it as a viable agricultural model. This is a concerning and valid complaint to the higher expense to be found in humane meat, and we should certainly be aware of the price tag that can act as a barrier for low-income people to buying any good product. Nevertheless, poor peoples’ tight budgets are a strange reason to beg off doing the right thing yourself, and in any event most of the things we take for granted today, such as refrigerators and dishwashers and computers, were at first completely unaffordable for the poor.13
More farmers, and hence more competition, may lower the price of such food in the future; it is also worthwhile to fight against asinine government regulations that make good meats harder and more expensive to obtain for rich, middle-class, and poor people alike. In the meantime, if you can afford humane meat, you should buy it. With all due respect to low-income folks, it is fairly silly to try and align your purchasing habits with the poor in order to effect an odd display of solidarity with them. Even poor people would probably agree.14
This kind of devotion to ethical treatment can be taken too far (to vegetarianism or veganism, say), but it doesn’t have to be. I have eaten factory-farmed meat on numerous occasions when nothing else was available. I will not go hungry or lightheaded in order to prove a point. I do try and eat as best as I can whenever I can: like Harvey Ussery, the modern guru of small-scale chicken farming, I try and eat seafood if there is no “good” meat available, usually when I’m on the road, if only because the seafood I eat is usually wild-caught and, from what I understand, much less prone to feel pain and suffering than are land animals. Nevertheless, all but a vanishing fraction of my meat and dairy products come from the type of farms I feel are best for both the animals and for the ethical justification of eating them.15
There are a host of other reasons to eat like this; it supports the farmers, for one (American industrial farming rests upon an impossibly idiotic set of economic pillars, and American industrial farmers can barely make enough money off of their product to survive); there is also abundant evidence that grass-fed beef, for one, is far healthier than its industrial cousin. That being said, the best initial reason to start eating humanely is that switching to this kind of meat will end a great deal of physical agony and psychological torment for a great number of animals. Contra the bumper sticker to which I was treated, “humane meat” is not “yuppie bullshit”; it is, rather, a wonderful recognition that the animals that provide us with healthy, life-giving food deserve not to be subject to torment and agony and immeasurable misery. Vegans and vegetarians may have a problem with dead animals, but for meat eaters, it is crucial that we consider them while they are alive.16
READING ARGUMENTS
YES! Magazine published this essay in its Spring 2011 edition.
I recently debated Nicolette Hahn Niman at an art event in California. Niman is a cattle rancher and author of Righteous Porkchop. I am a 28-year-old disabled artist, writer, and vegan. The event was held in a largely inaccessible building in front of an audience that had just dined on grass-fed beef—a rather ironic scenario for a wheelchair-using animal advocate like me!1
My perspective as a disabled person and as a disability scholar profoundly influences my views on animals. The field of disability studies raises questions that are equally valid in the animal-rights discussion. What is the best way to protect the rights of those who are not physically autonomous but are vulnerable and interdependent? How can society protect the rights of those who cannot protect their own, or those who can’t understand the concept of a right?2
Throughout the debate I argued that limited interpretations of what is natural and normal lead to the continued oppression of both disabled people and animals. Of the 50 billion animals killed every year for human use, many are literally manufactured to be disabled—bred to be “mutant” producers of meat, milk, eggs, and other products but unable to function in many ways.3
Niman and her family are leading proponents for raising animals humanely for slaughter. But during the debate, we agreed on something rather surprising—a basic tenet of animal rights: Animals are sentient, thinking, feeling beings, often with complex emotions, abilities, and relationships. We agreed that livestock animals can experience deep suffering and pleasure.4
Former cattlemen Howard Lyman and Harold Brown also agree that animals are sentient, but this realization led them to become vegan. They gave up their livelihoods and risked alienation from their communities for something greater: their consciences.5
Lyman and Brown reject animal slaughter on both practical and moral grounds. They point out that meat is not necessary for human health, a position endorsed by organizations from the World Health Organization to the American Dietetic Association. They cite growing evidence that animal agriculture is a major contributor to environmental problems: A 2009 report from Worldwatch Institute estimated that livestock production generates close to 51 percent of global greenhouse gases.6
But Lyman and Brown go beyond the merely practical: An animal, they say, is not a piece of property for human beings to use but instead an individual creature living a life that should belong to him or her alone. As Brown says on his website, “Animal rights, to me, is quite simply respecting animals as the sentient beings that they are.”7
But Niman—along with others who support sustainable meat—says that animals’ emotions are not an argument against eating meat—just an argument against cruelty. These conscientious omnivores argue that the justification for meat-eating lies elsewhere. They say we must overcome our empathy with an individual animal’s will to live to grasp something greater—Nature.8
Nature is one of the most common justifications for animal exploitation. The arguments range from romantic declarations about the cycles of nature to nuanced discussions of sustainable farming. But the assertion that something is “natural” (or “unnatural”) has long been used to rationalize terrible things.9
As a disabled person I find arguments based on what’s “natural” highly problematic. Throughout history and all over the world, I would have, at worst, been killed at birth or, at best, culturally marginalized—and nature would have been a leading justification.10
Disability is often seen as a personal tragedy that naturally leads to marginalization, rather than as a political and civil rights issue. Many people now reject using “nature” to justify things like sexism, white supremacy, and homophobia but still accept it as a rationale for animal exploitation and disability discrimination.11
Michael Pollan, one of the pioneers of the conscientious food movement, would say I am missing the point when I apply human standards to animals. Pollan argues that animal husbandry isn’t oppression but rather a “mutualism or symbiosis between species”—the very reason domesticated animals exist. But our understanding of nature cannot be separated from human culture and biases, especially because we understand nature through a long and pervasive historical paradigm of human domination over animals.12
The distinction that Pollan makes is especially troubling when one considers that slavery and patriarchy were both seen as simply natural at one time. The argument that co-evolution justifies animal exploitation is similar to an argument that patriarchy is justified by thousands of years of history, culture, and genetics. One cannot argue that the domesticated animal chose slaughter any more than one could argue that women chose patriarchy.13
Niman uses nature as a justification for animal slaughter in another way, arguing that, since it is normal and natural for animals to eat other animals and humans are animals, we are justified in eating meat. But violent, painful deaths are also “normal and natural” in nature. Would Niman argue that we have no moral obligation to kill animals humanely?14
Niman and others have suggested that vegans aren’t helping to change the world’s food production systems, whereas conscientious omnivores are. I’d suggest it’s the opposite. For a movement that supposedly advocates eating minimal meat, the humane-meat movement sure praises and glorifies the stuff. Trendy, socially conscious events serve sustainable animal products, while articles praise the mouthwatering taste, showing glamorous photos of young hipster butchers and “compassionate” farmers.15
Of course all of these articles mention that we need to be eating less and better meat, but one doesn’t have to be an advertising expert to see that what is being sold is “delicious” animal foods—not lentils and kale.16
A 2008 Carnegie Mellon University study showed that avoiding red meat and dairy one day a week achieves more greenhouse gas reductions than eating a week’s worth of local food. A vegan is also able to easily buy organic and local or, if that’s not possible, to buy fair trade, which, according to the book The Ethics of What We Eat, is arguably just as environmentally vital as buying organic and local, if you are considering issues of global justice.17
Studies show that being a vegan or a conscientious omnivore (whose animal products actually come from small, sustainable farms) are about equal in environmental impact.18
But I believe we must weigh environmental impact against other ethical concerns, such as the treatment of animals and global access to food and water. The more important question is which diet is more just for animals and more realistic for a planet with nearly 7 billion people and counting? The Worldwatch Institute calls for quick replacement of livestock products with other protein sources. Scientists are not saying that sustainable animal farming can’t be done, but many are saying that it’s not a realistic solution for a planet as hungry as ours.19
Another argument is that veganism isn’t realistic—that we can’t grow sustainable food without farm animals. The principal claim is that manure is necessary to maintain soil fertility. But animals do not need to be killed to poop. In fact all of the supposedly necessary effects that domesticated animals have on crops and soil come while the animals are alive.20
Even if a practical argument in favor of eating small amounts of meat can be made—whether based on soil fertility or on use of land that can’t support food crops—that doesn’t answer the moral argument against it.21
In fact, vegan-organic farming may be a realistic option. Farmers in the United Kingdom have developed a certification process for “stock-free” farming, a term that “broadly means any system of cultivation that excludes artificial chemicals, livestock manures, animal remains,” and so forth. Humans have not prioritized farming methods that minimize harm to animals so we actually have no idea what is possible. That animal-free methods are not widely known says more about the belief in human domination over animals than it does about the possibility of sustainable, compassionate agriculture.22
Humane meat is an oxymoron—and it seems that its advocates’ consciences know it. Conscientious omnivores appear to struggle with their own empathy toward animals: From Michael Pollan overcoming his hesitance and shame in hunting a wild boar, to newspaper stories on the new meat movement where people try to overcome their uneasiness about killing animals by taking a butchering class, to the Nimans’ own stories of their grief when sending their animals to slaughter.23
“Humane meat is an oxymoron—and it seems that its advocates’ consciences know it.”
Ex-cattlemen like Lyman and Brown show that empathy should be something that human beings have toward animals not only while they are living on our farms or after they have been killed and are on our plates being thanked or prayed over, but at that crucial moment when the decision is made to kill them for food or not.24
Nicolette Hahn Niman and I agree about the horrors of factory farming. We also agree on the importance of environmentally sustainable agricultural practices. But I don’t agree with her that slaughtering sentient animals for food is righteous—even if it’s done on a small family farm.25
There are better ways to be humane.26
READING ARGUMENTS
AT ISSUE: SHOULD WE EAT MEAT?
WRITING ARGUMENTS: SHOULD WE EAT MEAT?
All of the writers in this casebook consider the ethics of eating. Foer examines a number of implicitly moral standards that supposedly guide food choices—for instance, “Don’t eat animals with significant mental capacities” (para. 9); Niman considers the environmental consequences of eating meat, with an implied ethical assumption that people should reduce their “individual contributions to climate change” (23); Taylor refers explicitly to the “moral argument” against eating meat (21); and Payne considers the “ethical justification” for eating animals (15). Write an argumentative essay in which you take a position on the issue of eating meat. Do you think it is morally and ethically acceptable? Be sure to address opposing arguments presented by the writers in this casebook.