OMNI
ANIMAL RIGHTS AND PROTECTION versus DIRECT AND
STRUCTURAL VIOLENCE AGAINST ANIMALS, SIXTH GREAT EXTINCTION, NEWSLETTER #4, 2015.
Compiled by Dick
Bennett for a Culture of Compassion, Justice, Peace for All Species.
(#1 March 26, 2011; #2 Feb. 4, 2012; #3 Nov.
12, 2012)
http://www.omnicenter.org/newsletter-archive/ For a knowledge-based peace, justice, and
ecology movement and an informed citizenry as the foundation for change.
From its inception,
OMNI has been a defender of human rights, aligning itself with the ACLU, Center
for Constitutional Rights, Amnesty International, United Nations (UDHR), ,and
similar organizations. We are now
redefining ourselves as a Species Rights organization. Join in with us. See Vegetarian Action Newsletters: http://jamesrichardbennett.blogspot.com/2015/08/vegetarian-action-newsletter-20-august.html
Contents #4
Sixth Extinction
Elizabeth
Colbert
Human-Animal Relationships, What They
Can Teach Us, How We Should Treat Them
Scully, Dominion, requires us to treat animals with simple dignity
and compassion.
Oliver, Animal Lessons, Animals Teach Us
Oliver, Animal Lessons, Animals Teach Us
French, “Our
Animal Contradictions,” A Unitarian-Universalist Perspective
Organizations
Doris Day
Animal League
PETA and Animal Times, an
Extended Feature
Cross-Species Friendships (see previous newsletters)
PBS, Nature,
“Animal Odd Couples”
PBS, “Saving Luna”
Movies about Animals
Local, State,
National: Google Animal Rights
WAR
ON PLANET’S SPECIES
SIXTH
EXTINCTION
The Sixth Extinction: A Conversation With
Elizabeth Kolbert
Humanity's
"most enduring legacy" will be our effect on the rest of life on
Earth.
By Robert
Kunzig, National Geographic
PUBLISHED FEBRUARY 19, 2014
There have been five comparable periods of mass extinction,
according to the author, but this one is being caused by us.
In her new book The Sixth Extinction: An
Unnatural History, Elizabeth Kolbert describes traveling the
world to document the mass extinction of species that seems to be unfolding
before our eyes. There have been five comparable crises in the history of life
on Earth, she writes, but this one is different: It's being caused by us.
Kolbert, a staff writer for the New Yorker, is also a contributor to National
Geographic magazine, and her new book is informed by reporting she did
for this magazine on the Anthropocene, or
"the Age of Man," ocean acidification,
and captive breeding in zoos.
She is drawn to gloomy subjects—her previous book, Field Notes from a Catastrophe,
was on climate change—but what's
exceptional about Kolbert's writing is the combination of scientific rigor and
wry humor that keeps you turning the pages.
Her subject this time is what she sees as the
tragedy at the very core of human nature: "The qualities that made us
human to begin with: our restlessness, our creativity, our ability to cooperate
to solve problems and complete complicated tasks," Kolbert writes, are
leading us to change the world so rapidly and profoundly that other species
can't keep up. National Geographic reached Kolbert in New York to talk about
it.
The title of your last chapter is "The
Thing With Feathers," an allusion to Emily Dickinson's poem about hope. But the
message I got from your book was basically "The thing with feathers is
dead." Is that a fair summary?
The focus of the last chapter is Kinohi, a Hawaiian crow, one of only about a hundred
left on the planet. He's a very personable, charismatic bird. There's a
breeding facility on Maui, and Kinohi's genetic material is crucial to this
breeding effort—but he wasn't giving any up. He was refusing to mate. He doesn't
see himself as a bird, is the theory, because he was raised by people.
So they took him to the veterinary hospital
of the San Diego Zoo, and he has a really palatial setup you can walk into,
lots of toys, and he hops over to say hi. Barbara Durrant, a reproductive
physiologist at the zoo, spends many hours stroking Kinohi in a way that a male
bird is supposed to find very exciting, so that he will come through with some
of his genetic material, and she can rush to Maui and inseminate a female bird.
When I was there, which was about a year ago, he had not yet come through.
That story seemed to bring together all these
qualities of being human that in some sense are really the subject of the book.
It's about people's amazing resourcefulness and concern, about people making
more and more heroic efforts to try to save pieces of the natural world—and
meanwhile it continues to be under greater and greater assault.
So the thing with feathers is hope, of which
there's not a lot at the end of the book. But it's also Kinohi, which you can
see as either hopeful or not, depending on how you want to look at that story.
There are other birds in the book. You
climbed a tower in the Brazilian rain forest to listen for them with Mario
Cohn-Haft, an ornithologist.
It was a meteorological tower, and it was a
complete wreck when I was there—the maintenance work had not been done for some
time. When you're there right at dawn, you're looking over this vast expanse of
green treetops, and you're hearing a lot of birds calling, because that's when
they're active. An inexperienced person won't see anything. But Mario has this
amazing ear: He can identify virtually every bird in the Amazon rain
forest—we're talking about 1,300, 1,400 birds—by their call. So he would hear
something and could trace it back to where it was emanating from.
And he had this iPod loaded with birdsongs.
When he would hear something he could flip through the tunes and play that song
back to the bird to try to get it to call again, so that we could figure out where
it was. I saw some extraordinary birds that way—through a very powerful scope,
I should say.
Later you visited one of the patches of
forest that naturalist Tom Lovejoy has
managed to preserve, where he and other scientists have been studying the
effects of fragmentation on the forest.
The result of that experiment has been to
show that these patches just bleed species. We were in a 25-acre patch, all
completely surrounded by land that had been cleared and burned several times.
In fairness, we were there at high noon, which is not a good time to see or
hear birds. But we only heard—I believe it was two birds calling at that point.
And they were very common birds.
What's the evidence that we're living through
a mass extinction comparable to the one at the end of the Cretaceous period,
when an asteroid impact wiped out the dinosaurs and three-quarters of all
species on Earth?
One of the difficulties in looking at
extinction rates is we don't know what the denominator is—we don't know what's
in the rain forest. In the book I talk about this incredible array of estimates
there are for insects, which make up the bulk of the species in the Amazon.
I think where we get the most powerful
evidence that an extinction event is going on is from those groups that we know
very well—mammals, or reptiles, or birds. Even though you occasionally find a
new mammal, it's pretty rare. So you have a pretty good sense of what mammals
exist in the world, and at what rate they are becoming endangered, critically
endangered, and then extinct.
When you look at that you say, "Wow,
something really big is going on." But there are a lot of pretty ominous
signs even from invertebrates.
You write that we're putting other species in
a double bind: forcing them to move by changing the climate, and at the same
time making it harder for them to move.
Pretty much everything now is on the move or
should be on the move. I think it's 30 feet a day you've got to be moving,
toward the Poles or upslope, if you want to track the climate. Some things are
moving very fast; some things are not.
In the past we know that some species have
survived pretty dramatic climate swings by moving. But now you have the problem
that where you might need to move is either bisected by a road or completely
occupied by Los Angeles or São Paolo. So you're bringing both of those forces
to bear.
Aren't we part of the natural world? Won't
evolution allow organisms to adapt to us and our impact on the world?
Well, that is the $64 trillion question. If
we were doing just one of these things, we could precipitate a mass extinction.
It turns out we're doing several at the same time. We're not just warming the
world, we're cutting down the rain forest. We're not just cutting down the rain
forest, we're moving invasive species into the rain forest. So you just add
these all up, and you say, that's a lot, and that's how you get to saying: We
are the asteroid now. The asteroid also had a lot of different effects, and it
didn't end too well.
Our ancestors did okay, though.
It ended okay for our relative, whatever that
was—some little shrewlike creature who crawled through the end of the
Cretaceous. So then the question is, What is going to crawl through this moment?
That's the big question.
And to say that we are part of the natural
world, or not—I think that is absolutely the subject of the book. What are we?
To the extent that the asteroid is a part of the natural world, we are. And to
the extent that the asteroid is not part of the natural world, then I guess you
could say we're not. We occupy a very, very unusual position in the whole
history of the planet. That is really the point of the book.
You don't write much here about the effort to
conserve habitat—but your next assignment for National Geographic magazine
is to write about the 50th anniversary of the Wilderness Act. Is there any chance that
wilderness will be the preservation of the world?
In a
period of rapid change, one of the few things we know how to do is to try to
leave as many places alone as possible. Big places, so that if things need to
move they can, so that evolution can take its course. If these things can
adapt, they will—but the point would be to give as many organisms as possible a
chance to make it through this moment, by leaving food webs as intact as they
still are. Many people said the same thing to me: That's our best shot.
RELATED STORIES
SIXTH
EXTINCTION,
Google Search,
AUGUST 14, 2015
The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History is
a 2014 nonfiction book written by ... as the great auk; and she
includes the accelerated widespread extinction of ...
Anthropocene - The author - Discovery - Summary of Chapters
www.amazon.com
› ... › Endangered Species
Amazon.com,
Inc.
Rating: 4.6 - 532
reviews
A major book about the future of
the world, blending intellectual and natural ... In TheSixth Extinction, two-time winner of the
National Magazine Award and New ...
www.amazon.com
› ... › Environment
Amazon.com,
Inc.
A major book about the future of
the world, blending intellectual and natural history ... Scientists around
the world are currently monitoring the sixth extinction, ...
news.nationalgeographic.com/.../150623-six...
National
Geographic Society
Jun 23, 2015 - Journalist Elizabeth
Kolbert's book The Sixth Extinction won this year's Pulitzer Prize for general non-fiction. We
talked with her about what ...
WAR ON ANIMALS: A CHRISTIAN COMPASSIONATE
RESPONSE
Dominion: The Power of Man, the
Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy
Matthew Scully. St. Martin's Griffin , 2008.
"And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness;
and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the
air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing
that creepeth upon the earth."--Genesis 1:24-26
In this crucial passage from the Old Testament, God grants mankind power over animals. But with this privilege comes the grave responsibility to respect life, to treat animals with simple dignity and compassion.
Somewhere along the way, something has gone wrong.
In Dominion, we witness the annual convention of Safari Club International, an organization whose wealthier members will pay up to $20,000 to hunt an elephant, a lion or another animal, either abroad or in American "safari ranches," where the animals are fenced in pens. We attend the annual International Whaling Commission conference, where the skewed politics of the whaling industry come to light, and the focus is on developing more lethal, but not more merciful, methods of harvesting "living marine resources." And we visit a gargantuan American "factory farm," where animals are treated as mere product and raised in conditions of mass confinement, bred for passivity and bulk, inseminated and fed with machines, kept in tightly confined stalls for the entirety of their lives, and slaughtered in a way that maximizes profits and minimizes decency.
Throughout Dominion, Scully counters the hypocritical arguments that attempt to excuse animal abuse: from those ... more
In this crucial passage from the Old Testament, God grants mankind power over animals. But with this privilege comes the grave responsibility to respect life, to treat animals with simple dignity and compassion.
Somewhere along the way, something has gone wrong.
In Dominion, we witness the annual convention of Safari Club International, an organization whose wealthier members will pay up to $20,000 to hunt an elephant, a lion or another animal, either abroad or in American "safari ranches," where the animals are fenced in pens. We attend the annual International Whaling Commission conference, where the skewed politics of the whaling industry come to light, and the focus is on developing more lethal, but not more merciful, methods of harvesting "living marine resources." And we visit a gargantuan American "factory farm," where animals are treated as mere product and raised in conditions of mass confinement, bred for passivity and bulk, inseminated and fed with machines, kept in tightly confined stalls for the entirety of their lives, and slaughtered in a way that maximizes profits and minimizes decency.
Throughout Dominion, Scully counters the hypocritical arguments that attempt to excuse animal abuse: from those ... more
Connect with the Author
Reviews
Praise for Dominion
"Scully's riveting account... shows
how unspeakable and systematic animal cruelty is the currency of a soulless
industry that has shattered American rural communities, poisoned our soils,
air, and water, made family farmers an endangered species, and undermined our
democracy. Scully's book gently questions whether we can foster human dignity
in a society that treats other sentient beings as production units." --- Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.
"Matthew Scully has set forth a case - in a wry and riveting manner - that will resonate with any reader who values logical reasoning and ethical conduct. I expect that Dominion will be the most influential book on animal protection in the last twenty-five years." -- Wayne Pacelle, Senior Vice President, The Humane Society of theUnited States
"Matthew Scully has set forth a case - in a wry and riveting manner - that will resonate with any reader who values logical reasoning and ethical conduct. I expect that Dominion will be the most influential book on animal protection in the last twenty-five years." -- Wayne Pacelle, Senior Vice President, The Humane Society of the
I liked this
book a lot more before I learned the author is the speech writer for Sarah
Palin. I have a hard time believing that Scully is not passionate about
vegetarianism. The book is incredibly dramatic. You can tell he is a speech
writer -- he writes as if he is before 100,000 people trying... ...more
Well. This was
a shrewdly written book. Instead of arguing for animal rights he argues that
humans have neglected to exercise care for animals in their use of them. In
other words modern humans have forsaken a biblical and moral vision of dominion
for a quite selfish and callous use of animals f... ...more
Although a bit
tedious at times, Dominion is a series of powerful arguments against the
assumption that man's cognitive superiority to animals is correlated with his
ability to use them for any purpose he sees fit regardless of how it harms or
causes them pain. One of the main assumptions that he... ...more
In Dominion,
Matthew Scully brings a conservative
Christian perspective to the cause of animal welfare. He begins the book
with profiles of the types of animal cruelty easy for the general population to
disapprove of: big game hunting, whaling, and animal experimentation. After
profiling these cr... ...more
Deeply
disturbing. This book kept me up many nights thinking of the utter horrors that
humans impart on the innocent creatures that call this world home. Thinking of
the men with their guns on their hunting expeditions to Africa
to take home what is to them just a trophy, like real "big game"
--... ...more
This, like so
many books about the systematic abuse and widespread slaughter of animals, was
a hard book to read. The raw truth can be devastatingly painful. Matthew Scully
has done an excellent job writing a convincingly powerful, and absolutely
moving argument for the rights of non-human animal... ...more
One
of the best books on the subject... without the heir of condescension that many
books on the topic have. Incredibly informative, compassionate, and full of
stories and accounts...(sometimes overly-wordy or dramatic, but for the most
part, beautifully written.)
Kelly Oliver, Animal Lessons: How They Teach Us to Be Human. New York: Columbia UP, 2009;
364 pages.
Review by Bronwyn Singleton, University of Toronto. Published in Symposium 15:1 (2011).
Animal Lessons is a rigorous, engaging and thought-provoking account of our
relationships with animals and how we learn from them what it means to be human. A well-known feminist
philosopher, Kelly Oliver traces how this “animal pedagogy” functions, often in
covert ways, across a number of discourses from the Continental canon. Her
study culminates in an original and compelling account of what it could mean to
evolve a sustainable, “free-range ethics.” Oliver demonstrates how even
philosophers of alterity are surprisingly guilty of selling animals short,
while simultaneously illustrating how animals often “bite back” in ways that
undermine and upset attempts at their conceptual, intellectual and
philosophical domestication and training.
The book is divided into six sections. The first section outlines
how and why rights discourse and concerns with animal suffering are
insufficient for building truly ethical philosophical accounts of our
relationship with animals. Oliver’s Introduction and first chapter clearly
establish that Animal Lessons goes beyond traditional arguments that
leverage either biological continuism and/or metaphysical separation to justify
animal abuse or to promote animal welfare. Her work digs deeper to understand
what motivates stories of sameness or difference between humans and animals,
searching for a path that eschews the limits of either way of thinking. In the
five sections that follow Oliver reads
ten philosophers to show how their respective work engages animal pedagogy,
critiquing how these thinkers often disavow the role that animals play in their
own teachings and lessons. Her studies take up the treatment of “the animal,
animality and animals” in Rousseau, Herder, Derrida, Beauvoir, Lacan,
Heidegger, Agamben, Merleau-Ponty, Freud and Kristeva.
Several themes emerge as Oliver builds her argument. One of the
strengths of Oliver’s text is its illustration of the complicity between animal
oppression and the domination of women and other marginalized persons and
groups (there might be more focus on race, but such want is perhaps
supererogatory). Second, Oliver challenges our thinking on taste and
eating, questioning what it would mean to eat ethically and examining the taste
for purity that is integral to our philosophical inheritance. Finally, the
third major theme is one of responsivity and responsibility. Man and animal are
often distinguished based on man’s allegedly unique capacity to speak, a
“response” that is cast in sharp relief to the instinctual reaction of animals.
It doesn’t take Oliver long to blur these lines and to tie response-ivity to
themes of ethical responsibility. These threads work to challenge our ideas
about kinship relations, gradually building a case for a new ethics and
politics that look to an ecological and sustainable model founded on the
“strange kinship” with our animal others that comes from shared embodiment.
Section Two reaches back to address Rousseau and Herder,
challenging the romantic myths that have been used to differentiate man and
animals. Contra the received dogma, Oliver demonstrates how we cannot
distinguish man from the animals based on the assimilation of food, language or logos so that
we never really leave our animal ancestors behind. Being human becomes a form
of response to the animals, but one that we must take up more ethically moving
forward. Section Three offers a prolonged analysis of Derrida’s work on
animality in keeping with his hyperbolic ethics. These twin essays engage two
themes that will be integral to the evolution of Oliver’s overall argument:
good taste or “eating well,” and the intersectionality of animal oppression and the oppression of women. This section also
establishes the key role that Derrida’s hyperbolic ethics play in Oliver’s
ecological ethics. Derrida’s taste for purity is revealed as a promise that
offers an antidote to an absolutist ethics or to the quietism of an ethics that
recognizes the impossibility of ever achieving a static good. Section Four’s
essays on Beauvoir and Lacan are a somewhat awkward pairing; they seem to be
joined as leftovers rather than because of some natural thematic continuity.
Oliver reveals Beauvoir’s animal ambivalence by juxtaposing her attempt to
highlight the challenges of the female animal while ostensibly arguing that women
must disavow their animal nature in order to transcend their reproductive
burden and truly exist in existentialist terms and on par with men. The Lacan
essay, perhaps the least robust of Oliver’s studies, plays on the themes of
language, duplicity and the trace, building to an interesting but ultimately
unrealized conclusion about how we must learn to be more cautious of our
tracks, treading more lightly on the earth. Part Five’s three essays on
Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty and Agamben intertwine to end on a surprisingly sweet
and optimistic note. Oliver challenges Heidegger’s claim that his thinking
about animality is non-hierarchical, pointing to the violence of the
ontological distinction he uses to keep man and animal separated by an “abyss.”
Her Agamben essay examines how the anthropological machine legitimates violence
against animals and women, arguing that we must stop the machine for the sake
of the planet and not just to save “man.” Finally, the essay on Merleau-Ponty
leverages his idea of strange kinship to discuss the possibility of finding an
opening or opportunity to put us in communion with our animal ancestors based
on shared embodiment. This idea of shared embodiment becomes an important
touchstone for Oliver’s emergent ethics. Section Six takes on psychoanalysis
through two essays on Freud and Kristeva. Heavy on content, the Freud essay
addresses how animal kinship works in Freud and how it ultimately serves to
disrupt his tales of family romance. Her analysis unpacks a panoply of themes
including animal phobias, dream interpretation, Freudian anthropology, the role
of mothers and sisters in psychoanalysis and the challenge animal relations
pose to the Oedipal family. In her final essay Oliver describes how Kristeva’s
attempt to move psychoanalysis beyond its phallocentrist roots is ultimately
won at the expense of the animals that often come to function as Other in lieu
of woman.
Oliver is clearly dealing with a surfeit of material, inspiration
and ideas, so that the essays can sometimes seem a bit busy and over-flowing.
They are immensely rich, but they have a tendency to raise rolling bars of
questions that could be essays in and of themselves (such as Oliver’s
parenthetical remarks on Merleau-Ponty’s substitution of the machine for the
animal other, opening important questions of the post-human or her speculations
about how animals might become friends or family at the end of the Heidegger
essay). I frequently found myself pausing and wishing that Oliver could flesh
out and respond to such remarks, while yet realizing that to do so would invite
her to write entirely new essays. In some ways this is a luxurious difficulty,
but occasionally the feeling that Oliver was piling it on became overwhelming.
The real brilliance and potential in Animal
Lessons comes
with the much too short conclusion, wherein Oliver begins to sketch the alternate ethics that evolve from her
animal studies and as a result of her own animal pedagogy. The sustainable
ethics she innovates is based on “ecological subjectivity,” Derrida’s
hyperbolic ethics, Merleau-Ponty’s ideas of strange kinship and shared
embodiment and the fundamental but often forgotten childhood virtue of sharing. This ethics recognizes that it must be
more than an ethics of sameness or difference and explores how these things are
always intertwined. Taking on critics who argue that animal studies are
indulgent distractions to more pressing ethical concerns about human violence
against one another, Oliver challenges that we can ever separate these two
streams of abuse. Arguing that man/animal is the original binary structuring Western
intellectual thought, she proceeds to say that its dismantling could yet offer
the hope for a new and renewed ethics and a path to planetary healing. We are
at a juncture in history where a sustainable ethics is an exigency. As Oliver
argues: “We need an ethics born from, and nurturing, a transformation from the
traditional image of man as conquering nature to one of human beings nourishing
it.” (305) Cultivating our “ecological conscience” means sacrificing
human greed for the sake of those others with whom we share the planet. Oliver
argues that all living things are responsive and in this sense we all have a
responsibility to one another. “Sustainable ethics is an ethics of the
responsibility to enable response, not as it has been defined as the exclusive
property of man (man responds, animals react), but as it exists all around us.”
(306) Such responsibility is a hyperbolic demand, but one that
nonetheless cannot be shirked. Oliver is on the cusp of some fascinating and
original thought and research and I hope that this hasty conclusion is also a
promise for the future since it opened many lines that had me writing “say
more!” in my margins.
Animal Lessons is part of the “Critical Perspectives on Animal Studies” series
from Columbia,
which explores this nascent field from a cross-disciplinary perspective. The
study of animality has become a cottage industry among continental philosophers
in recent years and is becoming a popular course subject. Oliver engages not
just the canonical texts, but also addresses key voices contributing to the
ongoing conversation, including Lawlor, Calarco, Diamond and Toadvine. Her text
is suitable for scholars reasonably familiar with continental philosophy who
want to brush up on its treatment of the animal, but it is also sufficiently
erudite to challenge those already engaged in such debates. Animal
Lessons would be a
great companion piece to more advanced undergraduate or graduate studies on
animality.
Finally, Oliver casts Animal Lessons as a work of mourning dedicated to her
cat, Kaos, but ultimately it proves a most worthy labor of love.
OUR ANIMAL CONTRADICTIONS: How
Unitarian Universalism can help us sort out our place in the animal world.
KIMBERLY FRENCH . Unitarian World. 9/9/2013
| FALL 2013 http://www.uuworld.org/articles/our-animal-contradictions
Published by the Unitarian Universalist Association.
When I first heard the words “animal” and “ministry” together, I
had to pause. Really? What was this? Ministers who help animals with their
spirituality? Animals who comfort people, like therapy dogs? Or perhaps a
spiritualized form of animal-rights activism?
As I learned more, I realized both my animals and my church
community have spiritually fed me throughout my life. At one of the first
classes I took at my local church, the minister asked us to list ten words that
described us. I wrote “animal lover” at the top of my list.
I had just moved to a small rural town, to start a hobby farm on a
few acres. Since then, scores of animals have been in my life—dogs, cats,
sheep, goats, chickens, hamsters, and lots of wild creatures. I go to extreme
lengths to care for some of these animals. Some I eat. Some I kill. Like most
people in our culture, I live with contradictions in how I relate to the animal
world.
My daughters roll their eyes when they hear me talking in my
garden: “Mom and her snakes.” Seeing snakes—an often-endangered animal in the
middle of the food chain, both predator and prey—makes me feel more hopeful
about the environment. I appreciate their eating the slugs and beetles. I pet
them if they’ll let me.
One morning I woke to find a colorful milk snake in my
second-floor bedroom, and that did tighten my breathing. Two nets made simple
work of taking it outside, just as I do with birds, bats, and chipmunks who
find their way inside my farmhouse. Another summer day I noticed a long black
snake living under the playhouse. I brought it mice I’d killed in my traps. I
called my daughters to the window and we watched, fascinated, as the snake
dislocated its tiny jaw to devour them.
Living in the world without killing other sentient beings, or
being responsible for their deaths, is nearly impossible, so we have to draw
lines. I happily share my homestead with snakes, but I’ve made peace with
killing mice and rats—mammals like me—who rip open feed sacks in the barn, poop
under the kitchen sink, and keep coming back and multiplying. I save spiders,
crane flies, and antlions, but I may kill dozens of mosquitoes, ticks, flies,
yellow jackets, beetles, ants, and moths in a day. I have loaded my car with
lambs and chickens I have raised, and borne witness to the slaughter. When a
desperate woodchuck was slashing its long incisors and claws into my frail
elderly dog, I pinned it with a pitchfork then smashed its head with a
sledgehammer—the most violent act I have committed.
I do think of myself as an animal lover, but it’s complicated.
We live in a culture that has a contradictory view of the animal
world rooted in a religious idea: that humans are more important than other
animals. We humans have had no trouble obeying the Genesis verse to “be
fruitful and multiply . . . and have dominion . . . over every living thing.”
At the same time, humans have a need to connect with the natural world—what
biologist E.O. Wilson calls “biophilia.” It feeds our spirits.
As the human population has abandoned or built up the countryside
to live in cities and suburbs, we have less and less contact with the animals
that produce our food and clothing, and we have destroyed wild-animal habitats.
At the same time, Americans’ consumption of meat has risen dramatically (now
averaging 240 pounds a year), and our relationships with our pets have become
closer than ever, even neurotically close.
Religion can give us a way to face our imbalance and our
disconnection from the animal world. Unitarian Universalism may be especially
well suited to break down the religious firewalls between divine, human, and
animal. We can find guidance in both our First Principle (“the inherent worth
and dignity of every person”) and our Seventh (“respect for the interdependent
web of all existence of which we are a part”). We can treat each other with
respect as we struggle with ethical and spiritual questions about our
relationship to animals, even when we come up with different answers.
Psychologist Dan Gilbert jokes that everyone in his profession
dreams of writing a sentence that starts, “The human being is the only animal
that . . .” Not just psychologists, but also religious thinkers have filled the
blank with: “is moral,” “makes art,” “makes tools,” “has an imagination,”
“knows it is going to die.” One by one, scientists are disproving these
pronouncements.
Yet I cannot help but offer my own: the human being is the only
animal that agonizes over what it eats. Eating is the most intimate and violent
interaction most people ever have with other living beings.
My grandparents slaughtered steers, hogs, and chickens on their
farms. Growing up in a suburb, I ate meat at every meal, and saw no
contradiction with my passion for pets until I tried to make the pieces of my
own homestead fit together. I spent an afternoon at the local slaughterhouse
watching how animals were killed and converted into meat. I was prepared to be
turned off meat entirely, but that’s not what happened. The killing was so
quick, the workers had killed three hogs before I could figure out how they did
it: they wrapped a chain around the hog's rear leg, raised it with a hydraulic
lift, then stuck a knife in the throat.
I can’t say I’ve resolved the tension in myself between loving and
eating animals. I have, however, found three practices that help me to be more
mindful as an eater of meat.
The first discipline is returning to the earliest religious
practice I can remember: taking a moment to bless my food, to feel reverence
and gratitude for what it means to take another life in order to sustain mine.
I imagine that animal, just as I could picture my own sheep or chickens, along
with the growers and workers who made it possible for me to eat.
Second, I eat far less meat than I did growing up, and I avoid
factory-farmed meat. It feels right to eat meat from the goat farm whose
nannies board at our place; to enjoy the eggs of my chickens, who run to me for
treats; and to barter fruit for venison with my hunter friend at church. I find
my health is better when I eat some animal protein. After years of reporting on
health, my hunch is that in time we’ll see a diet that includes cleanly raised
animal protein nutritionally vindicated.
A far more pressing ethical issue than whether humans should ever
eat meat is our responsibility for factory farming on the scale required to
feed the human and pet population today. The horrors of huge lagoons of animal
waste, routine use of antibiotics, and animals so tightly confined they cannot
stand have been well documented. The most compelling argument against eating
meat, for me, is that farm animals contribute more greenhouse gases than all
modes of transportation put together.
Third, I ask myself at each meal, “What is the best food choice I
can make?” This trumps everything. The answer is different if I’ve selected and
prepared my food, if someone else is cooking, or if I’m eating out. My choice
may be based on health or the environment, or on my love of culinary pleasure
or being in community. If someone has made me a meal, or invited me to
celebrate with them, then it’s obvious: I eat what I’m served. Nothing is, so
to speak, off the table.
Long before we get a whiff of the sea, Opal, my rescued greyhound,
knows where we’re headed. With her deep chest, muscular haunches, and almost
furless body, Opal was born to run. Every day I can, I take her to a beautiful
spot where she can lay tracks at 30 miles per hour, spin in tight circles, and
zoom around long ovals of her choosing.
My spirit soars as I watch her coursing flight. Hiking with my
dogs through cathedrals of tall straight pines, seeing them leap up granite
boulders to a mountaintop or run along beaches that stretch forever are among
my deepest joys. When I take a walk without a dog, it feels like a part of me
is missing.
One day when Opal and I were finishing our beach walk, rain began
to fall. A nursing-home van sat in the parking lot. The residents’ outing was
ruined, and the driver had opened the door while they ate their lunches. Opal
peeked in. “Oh, please let her come on.” “Here, doggie.” The driver invited her
on board. She walked slowly from front to back, greeting each person, as if
inquiring how they were, how they liked their lunch. Smiles and crinkly eyes
lit up each face. I watched as the joy I get from my dog spread from person to
person. This felt like animal ministry.
The openheartedness of many domesticated animals, their
sensitivity to body language, can cut through to places we may not even realize
we’ve shut away. Therapists know the value of animals in working with children,
the elderly, abuse victims, people with mental and physical disabilities, the
grieving, and anyone who feels misunderstood or lonely. Families with pets know
the lessons animals teach about responsibility and kindness, about birth and
death.
On the farms where my parents grew up, dogs and cats lived under
the porch and ate table scraps plus whatever they could catch. Opal sleeps on
the couch and wears a coat when it’s cold. Americans’ spending on pets keeps
rising, and now totals more than $61 billion a year. The greatest growth is on
items that would have shocked my grandparents: specialty foods, pet clothing,
surgeries, dental work, daycare, and spas. I have no doubt my grandparents’
free-range dogs led better-quality lives than Opal does. Confining pets indoors
or in fenced yards is safer for them, for us, and for the wild animals they may
prey on. But twenty-first-century pets are more like captive animals we keep
for our own pleasure than companion animals—and at a tremendous cost of
resources.
A woman in my church took the microphone from the minister. All of
us sitting in the congregation knew from past Sundays how much she cared for
the feral cats who flock to her back stoop. Now the town was threatening to
evict her from senior housing if she didn’t stop feeding them. She wouldn’t
stop. She lit a candle of concern.
If any group would understand her plight, our Unitarian
Universalist congregation would. Sprinkled through the pews were others who
give up rooms to foster difficult-to-place animals, spend weekends driving dogs
to adoptive homes, and run equine therapy workshops. Some years back, under
cover of night, a church women’s group organized a mission to steal a neglected
German shepherd with mastitis and mange from a cramped backyard kennel after
legal attempts to get the dog away from its owner had failed.
Visiting a larger UU church, I listened to a parishioner whose dog
had almost died in labor and had been turned away at an animal hospital. As a
lay worship leader, I wonder how newcomers and members who aren’t animal people
may react to these pet-related “joys and sorrows.”
Yet I know from experience these heartaches are real. I’m sure my
unease comes from having a foot in each world—farming and pet owning—and from
my own self-consciousness about how far I’ve gone down the pet-neurotic and
unsustainable road myself. Our religion asks us to honor one another’s
experiences with compassion. Who am I, or who is any of us, to question what
brings a person joy, pain, solace, even moments of divinity?
Unitarian Universalism doesn’t draw a line at what counts as
spiritual—and that aspect of our tradition is sometimes misunderstood, or made
fun of. It has also, however, compelled us to push at evils rooted in
conventional religious thinking such as slavery, racism, sexism, and
homophobia. How we draw lines between the divine, human, and animal needs a
push, too. We should be talking about this at church. The UU Animal Ministry
started a conversation in the 1980s, focusing on animal rights and
vegetarianism. As ministers have joined, including the Rev. Gary Kowalski (The
Souls of Animals) and the Rev. Dr. LoraKim Joyner, who leads bird conservation
projects in Central America, the group has created animal blessing liturgies,
written curricula, and promoted rephrasing our First Principle to include “the
inherent worth of all beings.”
It’s not our “relationship to animals” we need to rethink. We are
animals, and just one small, very out-of-balance part of the animal world. The
hubris of thinking that we are above other animals—denying our own
“animalness,” our sexuality, the violence inherent in eating, the inevitability
of death, and the limits of our control—has gotten us into serious trouble on
this planet. The human-centered perspective is so entrenched in how we think,
we may not even realize it: we speak of an alligator-“infested” swamp, rather
than a natural habitat; fearful of mosquito-borne viruses, we demand aerial
spraying that also affects fish, amphibians, and pollinators critical to the
delicate web of life.
Our love for animals may be a way to help us change course. As my daughter
Shaya wrote in a college essay: “We won’t survive as a species with our current
understanding and sense of entitlement toward the planet. We need a paradigm
shift from owning the earth to being part of it. Understanding animals is one
way humans can learn this paradigm.”
Unitarian Universalism can help us sort out our place in the
animal world—how we find joy in other animals; how we bless, celebrate, and
grieve our bonds with them; how we act on the ethical questions about animal
products we consume and resources we devote to pets; and most important, how we
can call one another to reverse the imbalance and damage we’ve done to the
earth that all of us animals depend on.
These interlocking ethical and spiritual questions are complex.
What guides me is a belief that we are all one. Life sustains itself by
consuming other living things. Everything living reproduces, dies, and goes
back to the earth. I will keep walking with my dogs, gardening with snakes,
laughing at my chickens, and pushing toward answers.
Related Stories http://www.uuworld.org/articles/our-animal-contradictions
Pet ministry Caring for all creatures
Eating ethically
Related Resources
Unitarian Universalist Animal Ministry. Organization promotes the
“inherent dignity and worth of all beings.” (uuam.org)
ACTION ORGANIZATION FOR ANIMAL
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Working to
reduce the pain and suffering of non-human animals through legislative
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PEOPLE FOR THE ETHICAL TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, PETA’S ANIMAL TIMES: THE MAGAZINE THAT SPEAKS
UP FOR ANIMALS. www.PETA.org
PETA is a comprehensive animal support organization. This number of its magazine promotes healthy
food, rescuing distressed, abused, neglected, abandoned animals, vegetarianism,
veganism, books on all aspects of animals, defenders of animals, sanctuaries,
adoption rather than purchase; and it rejects animal use for cosmetic testing,
killing animals for fur, killing ducks and geese for foie gras; and much
more.
Home • Features
• Video • Action • Blog • Issues • About PETA • Donate
Now PEOPLE FOR
THE ETHICAL TREATMENT OF ANIMALS, PETA’S ANIMAL TIMES: THE MAGAZINE THAT SPEAKS
UP FOR ANIMALS (#3, 2013). www.PETA.org
The Flick You Can't Miss This Halloween
Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they aren't
there.READ MORE
• WATCH: Flesh-Eaters
Are Everywhere!
Are you a flesh-eater? Run from the curse of the meat-eater this
Halloween and go vegan! READ MORE
• PETA Goes All
RoboCop on RoboRoach
Not only is a twisted mail-order company encouraging kids to
torture bugs, it's also upping the ante by turning bullying into a high-tech
"experiment." READ MORE
• PETA Pays Tribute to
Scream Queen on Halloween
Karen Black may be gone, but the iconic actor is still helping
animals from beyond the grave. READ MORE
•PETA's Office Cats Hard at Work
Catch a glimpse of PETA's office cats lending a helping paw. READ
MORE
• Morrissey Walked Out
on Date Because He Ate Meat
British pop icon Morrissey dishes on a meat-eating paramour in his
tell-all memoir. READ MORE
• Help Stop Cruel
Cosmetics Tests on Animals in the U.S.
The European Union, Israel, and India have made great strides in
banning cosmetics tested on animals, and now it's time for the U.S. to hop on the
compassionate train. READ MORE
animals an even easier experience for you. READ MORE
Sign Up for PETA Updates
Urgent Alerts www.PETA.org
• Bulls Ripped Apart in
Barbaric Ritual--Take Action Now!
• Urge the Rose Parade
to Cancel SeaWorld's Float!
• Rats Used at Haunted
House Need Your Voice!
See All Alerts www.PETA.org
For Youth
• Enter the Most Epic
peta2 Contest Ever!
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Popular Resources www.PETA.org
• How to Go Vegan in 3
Simple Steps and more
• Almost all of us grew
up eating meat, wearing leather, and going to circuses and zoos. We never
considered the impact of these actions on the animals involved. For whatever
reason, you are now asking
People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals
501 Front St., Norfolk, VA 23510 | 757-622-PETA (7382) |
757-622-0457 (fax)
The latest issue of PETA's Animal Times magazine just rolled off
the presses, and the PETA Files is offering you a sneak peak inside. In
addition to campaign news and updates, investigative reports, and tasty
recipes, this issue includes an exclusive excerpt from PETA President Ingrid E.
Newkirk's latest book, The PETA Practical Guide to Animal Rights. In this
excerpt, Ingrid talks about a personable rooster named Lucie, who changed the
lives of the family that had the good fortune to adopt him:
A man selling chicks under
a bridge sold Lucie for a dollar to a little girl. … She put him … in the
basement in a shoe box with air holes and a tissue for a blanket …. The next
day, the girl's mother Barbara Munroe, realized that the chick was freezing.
She made a bed in her night table drawer .... Finally, Lucie went to sleep.
Barbara took to carrying Lucie around in her hand. He always
wanted to be with people. "The most amazing thing to me," says
Barbara, "was the way Lucie adapted to suburban life, sitting in a car
like a perfect gentleman or on the sofa while the family read or watched
television."
When Barbara would come home from work, she often saw Lucie
sitting on the back of a chair in an upstairs window, watching for her. By the
time that she got in, he was down in the kitchen, jumping up and down, greeting
her.
If people in the house raised their voices, Lucie chimed in
loudly. It was almost impossible to shout over him, and usually everyone ended
up laughing.
Barbara's daughter kept her bedroom door closed. Lucie hated that
…. Every once in awhile, the girl forgot to close the door. Lucie would run in
and jump on her bed but remain very quiet, so as not to alert her.
All chickens have the potential of Lucie or more, if allowed to
live a natural life—by which I mean, not confined to a tiny wire cage or to a
filthy, ammonia-filled shed crammed in with thousands of other birds. The same
is true of all animals we think of as "food." It is just that we
never get to know them.
Want more? An annual subscription to Animal Times can be yours for
just $16. What a bargain!
Written by Alisa Mullins
For those of you who receive PETA's quarterly magazine, Animal
Times, you're in for a treat (as always) when the latest issue hits mailboxes
this month. If you haven't gotten around to subscribing (it's free with your
PETA membership), here's one of the many great articles you'd find—an exclusive
sneak peek at PETA President Ingrid E. Newkirk's newest book, The PETA
Practical Guide to Animal Rights. Don't say we never gave you anything:
Man's best friendisn't, in
many parts of the world. In Korea, the Philippines, Vietnam, and China, among
other places, dogs are kept in the burning sun in small cages behind
restaurants, often with tin cans shoved over their muzzles and their broken
forelegs tied behind their backs. They are "tenderized" by being
beaten while alive and then strangled to death and skinned for their flesh. In
Thailand, dog-hide factory trucks prowl the streets, offering to trade plastic
buckets for live dogs, who will be slaughtered and made into bags, drum skins,
and golf-club covers.
I grew up in India, where—although dogs are not
eaten—mange-covered and starving stray animals are so common and so pathetic
that they can't help but capture your attention. In the pounds, death was
courtesy of a crude electrocution machine that seared the animals' skin and
often set their fur on fire or via blows from men wielding billy clubs.
In Taiwan—which has a robust economy as well as a large Buddhist
population—one would think that animals would fare much better. The reality is
quite the opposite. In Taiwan's pounds, death for dogs can come from live
burial (digging a pit and throwing the dogs into it), electrocution,
poison-laced food, starvation, or drowning. In April 1998, I rescued 11 dogs
from the Keelung city pound's drowning tank and extracted a promise from the
minister of the environment to immediately stop drowning animals. The city
administrators have been good to their word, but all these years later, animals
in Sanchung, Tu Chung, and other cities continue to suffer, confined to
cramped, filthy cages at severely crowded pounds. Pressure is still desperately
needed to bring about reforms.
I used to harbor the illusion that all animals in Europe and North
America were well-treated. But we have plenty of room for improvement too—to
say the least.
A Baltimore, Maryland, rescue group called Alley Animals has seen
it all, right here in America: animals with festering wounds from slingshots
and bottles, cats with elastic bands embedded in their necks, kittens blinded
and used as bait in pitbull fights, abandoned Easter rabbits, a rooster wearing
a broken ankle leash, and even a green iguana—now themostcommon exotic
throwaway pet, according to news reports.
Alley Animals operates simply and on a shoestring. When dusk falls
on Baltimore, the group's volunteers drive into the sprawling old city's most
rundown areas. Their job is to find the animal waifs and strays who creep out
from their hiding places when the city grows quiet, knowing that they are less
visible to juveniles armed with free time and a rock or a firecracker.
One evening, volunteer Alice Arnold and her partner for that
night's trip, Eric, were just leaving an alley after putting out food when Eric
said, "Did you see that puppy?"
He pointed to an overturned reclining chair amid the trash, where
a tiny head was sticking out ever so slightly, the puppy's reddish-brown fur
almost blending in with the color of the old chair in the alley's black
shadows. The stuffing had come out of the chair, allowing the dog to claim its
interior as her shelter from a world that had rejected her.
Within a week of her rescue, it was obvious that the puppy—now
known as "Stuffing"— was very intelligent and lovable. After a few
weeks, Stuffing had gained weight, was paper-trained, and spent every night
snuggled up in bed with her new human friend. Alice says that to look at her now,
no one would ever guess that this happy little girl spent the first months of
her life eating from trash cans and sleeping inside an overturned chair in a
dark alley.
Most people don't think that the problems of strays and chained
"backyard" dogs have anything to do with them. But they do. The
biggest nightmare plaguing domesticated animals in our society does not involve
the wanton acts of violence directed toward them by cruel humans. Rather, it
involves thoughtlessness by otherwise intelligent and caring people who simply
do not understand what or who dogs and cats really are, and what they need to
thrive.
Want to read the rest of Ingrid's new book? You can order your
very own copy atPETACatalog.com. In the meantime, you can find out what you can
do to help strays and other neglected and abused animals here. Written by Alisa Mullins
ANIMAL CROSS-SPECIES FRIENDSHIPS
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