I’ve recently become acquainted with Barbara LaRue, a fellow animal rights blogger (who posts much more frequently than I!). She’s really well worth reading. Here’s her latest.
I hear it often and I know it’s meant as an acknowledgement of how I define myself, but having compassion for animals and therefore being vegan shouldn’t be thought of as only for a small group of people who have an unusual affinity for animals.
Most human beings have at least some sympathy for other living beings and will not deliberately do them harm.
If compassion for animals was simply something that was unique to a minority of humans, a quality that makes one person or thing different from another (like very strong artistic talent or musical ability), it would be useless to try to persuade others to at least consider why they would want to go vegan.
Vegans come from every walk of life, every age group, every color, gender and even political viewpoint (although I surmise most vegans lean a little left politically).
Those who’ve gone vegan after realizing…
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Humans did this. She had no name, only a number: 765. They restrained her and she cried out in pain when an arm was thrust inside her to impregnate her. She laboured and bellowed and gave birth. Before she could even clean up her calf, they took her baby away. She mourned deeply. They took her milk for butter and cream and cheese and yogurt. Then they did it all again, maybe three more times. Taken from her own mother at birth, that has been her whole life. Now there’s nothing left to take from her; her body is tired and spent. So now she’ll go to slaughter. She’ll be loaded onto a truck with so many other cows, all of them frightened and confused, all of them like her. They’ll travel for hours, maybe more than a day. Unable to control their bowels, they will wind up stinking, covered in each other’s shit. When they arrive, electric prods will be used to force them off the truck. It hurts. They’ll hear other cows mooing in terror and they’ll smell the other cows’ blood. If they’re lucky, the captive bolt gun will work and they’ll be unconscious when their throats are slit and they are skinned and dismembered. They’ll never know what they did wrong.
This is dairy. And every time we buy it, we are in effect saying “Do it again.” Please explore alternatives. Don’t consign another cow (or goat or sheep) to her fate.
“Wow, vegan. That’s amazing. I could never do that; I admire your discipline.”
I have very little discipline. I weigh 30 pounds more than I should. Being vegan requires absolutely no discipline at all. I am not vegan for my health or the environment; the benefits to both are a happy side effect of my veganism. I’m vegan because I love animals…not just cats and dogs, all animals. I became vegetarian because when I started learning about modern animal agriculture, about the way we treat farmed animals, I became very, very uncomfortable with what – or rather whom – I was eating.
Then I visited a farm sanctuary and met dozens of formerly commodified animals. It was so plain to see that they were smart and curious, engaged in their world, and I felt privileged that they so easily let me into it. It was immediately obvious what remarkable individuals they are. Every single one of them had a name and their own personality, had friends and preferences and moods. I couldn’t see farmed animals the same way after that; I saw them the same way I see cats and dogs. (In fact, I saw them the same way I see people, only better; animals don’t have the objectionable qualities of so many humans.)
World-renowned photographer and animal advocate Jo-Anne McArthur has said “Once you start seeing, you can’t stop,” and it’s true. It changes everything. I don’t see a chicken breast, I see a body part of an animal just like Cinnamon, for example, a cheeky, friendly hen who lives at Skylands Animal Sanctuary & Rescue. Where some see a pork chop or bacon, I see part of the chubby leg of Marge, a joyful and outgoing pig who lives at Farm Sanctuary — or Esther the Wonder Pig, whose enormous and funny personality has become known worldwide. Once you begin to see who animals are, you can’t close your eyes again, and that’s a good thing. I gave up nothing when I became vegan (which I too once said I couldn’t imagine doing); on the contrary, I gained in ways I can hardly begin to put into words.
Is it challenging to become vegan? At first, a bit — you’re forming new habits and turning your back on familiar ones you’ve had all your life. It requires a little effort as you become a label-reader, and perhaps suss out some non-animal versions of foods to replace the ones your taste buds miss. But it’s not hard. I don’t love ice cream or cheese more than I love Emma and Jackson, a beautiful dairy cow and her son who would both be dead by now (and would have suffered horrifically) had they not been rescued. And that equally applies to goats and sheep: they are treated just as badly as dairy cows and I’m lucky to have many goats and sheep in my life whom I love, every one of them no different than a dog or a cat.
When you really take in the misery, the fear and pain and loss that farmed animals endure, it’s impossible to enjoy a steak or an egg or a hunk of cheese. If you wouldn’t crowd, confine, mutilate, or beat a cat or dog, why is a pig or a chicken any different? I can’t justify what is really outright torture because I happen to like the taste of something.
So no, being vegan does not require discipline. At its simplest, it’s just a choice you make.
Less than 18 months after one of their own chicken farmers spoke out on video against industry practices, Purdue — one of the largest suppliers of chicken meat in the United States with an estimated* 14,300,000 chickens —has announced concrete steps it’s taking to improve the lives of the chickens they raise. It’s a big deal, and it wasn’t just the damning video that prompted their actions; it was ever-increasing public demand that farmed animals be treated better.
It is no longer any secret that the vast majority (about 98%) of farmed animals of every species are raised and housed in horrific conditions. With anywhere between tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of animals living in intensive confinement in massive, windowless sheds, each animal, regardless of species, is born to a life of misery. They are thinking, feeling beings. Their sentience is indisputable. Mutilated in infancy, denied the ability to express every basic, natural behaviour, their lives are filled with pain and fear and little else. They have no space to move around. They are repeatedly forcibly impregnated, only to have their children taken from them. They cannot live in family units as they would naturally do. They cannot choose with whom they live or when they eat. Their food is loaded with antibiotics simply so they may survive the horrendous conditions in which they live. They live with one another’s illnesses, feces, and urine, every single day. They go blind and develop serious respiratory problems. (Those cows you see on pasture when you’re driving outside the city? Those are the other 2%.)
But change is, slowly, coming. Most people agree that animals, even the ones “destined” for our plates, should not be made to suffer. Most people want “happy meat.”
To that end, some in the industry are beginning to respond. More and more restaurant chains are committing to cage-free eggs. Smithfield, one of the largest “pork” suppliers in the U.S., is phasing out gestation crates for pigs by 2022 (though they previously said 2017). On a political level, several U.S. states have banned the use of gestation crates: Arizona in 2012, California in 2015, Colorado in 2018, Florida in 2008, Maine in 2011, Oregon in 2013, with Michigan, Rhode Island, and Ohio (who is including battery cages and veal crates in the ban) all in progress. Canada made it illegal for newly built or renovated facilities to include gestation crates after July 1, 2014; established operations must convert to open-housing systems by July of 2024.
So yes, the tide is turning.
But treating the animals marginally, or even somewhat, better than they were before should not be seen as an excuse by omnivores to go about gustatory business as usual. The so-called “humane myth” is just that — a myth. Everyone knows about gestation crates, but no one’s talking (yet) about the farrowing crates: a very similar confining device where sows lie for weeks on cement, with bars separating them from their offspring so they don’t roll over on them (not something they’re really all that prone to doing, by the way). There’s nothing humane about picking up the runt of the litter, knowing she’ll take too long to reach market weight, and slamming her head into the floor under the guise of “euthanasia,” only to leave her lying twitching and in agony. (One of the industry terms for this, incidentally, is PACing — Pounding Against Concrete.) There’s nothing humane about cramming chickens in a shed where the air is so thick with ammonia from their urine that your eyes burn and you can’t breathe without a mask — an option the birds don’t have. There’s nothing humane about breeding birds to be so prolific in their egg-laying that they become too weak to push an egg out and successive eggs build up and rot inside them. There’s nothing humane about a “farmer” restraining a cow and ramming his arm up her vagina to the elbow to impregnate her (the restraining device, incidentally, is called a “rape rack” by the industry), and then removing her baby from her almost immediately after birth. There’s nothing humane about cutting off an animal’s tail and testicles without anesthetic or pain relief. There’s nothing humane about branding. There’s nothing humane about cutting off a bird’s toes so that when they fight (a result of intensive confinement), they don’t scratch up the “meat.” There’s nothing humane about the way hatcheries — from whence egg-laying hens come — throw the male chicks in garbage bags to suffocate amongst one another, or into a macerator to be ground alive (there’s the “chicken meal” you see on ingredient lists).
In the vast majority of U.S. states, the animal cruelty laws specifically exempt any practice deemed to be common on farms, making everything I’ve listed above, and more, perfectly legal. In Canada, the Canadian Food Inspection Agency (you’ll notice this comes under “food inspection,” not an anti-cruelty act) has a Code of Recommended Practice. If you read it, and it’s pretty easy to find online, it sounds good, all things considered. No mutilations are to be performed without anaesthetic, no downed animal is to be treated with anything but kindness, no undue loud noises are to be made which might frighten an animal, you can’t hasten one along the chute towards slaughter with an electric prod in the eye or the anus, and no animal is to be slaughtered while conscious. It’s a very comprehensive document. But it’s not law, it’s recommended practice, and it’s massively unenforceable — as evidenced by every single undercover investigation ever conducted in Canada.
I am really pleased to see the plight of farmed animals becoming more and more part of the public consciousness. We simply must treat farmed animals much better than we do, because they are individuals with personalities and preferences. While I personally wish we didn’t raise them for food at all, I still have to applaud incremental improvements in their welfare even while the tiny increments frustrate me no end…because those increments still matter to the animals.
I do not want people to interpret these small improvements in the lives of farmed animals as a pass to continue eating them. If you eat meat or eggs or dairy, do not let these little changes lull you into thinking the animals had a nice life. They still didn’t, believe me. Their lives will be only marginally better than they were before. The abuses I’ve written of here and in the past still continue every day. Sheep are punched in the face. Pigs are beaten with pipes. Chickens are scalded alive. Downed cows are still poked in the eyes and rectum with electric prods. Betterments in animal welfare are not a free pass to participate in the system. Every time you pay money for meat, eggs or dairy, you are telling someone somewhere, “Do it again.”
I do believe people care how animals are treated. But we also don’t like to change, and we have cultural and emotional attachments to certain foods that seem to transcend our sense of compassion. We are positively expert when it comes to cognitive dissonance, skilled at emotionally distancing ourselves from a piece of knowledge.
Here’s a little thought to take with you and remember when you read about improvements to farmed-animal welfare. It’s a quote from Andrea Kladar, a Canadian animal advocate:
“To examine whether something is humane, first determine if you would want it done to you.”
*Estimated by me, based on: Purdue has 2200 farmers contracted. Each farm has approximately 4000 to 10,000 chickens. I split the difference at 6500 chickens x 2200 farms.
I’ve just discovered a blog by fellow writer and sympatico advocate Barbara LaRue. I particularly like this post.
I learned a long time ago that you can’t change anyone but yourself, and that is a truth that most of us come to face eventually.
The message of veganism has been attacked by some as a message that tries to force people to change, and while it may seem that way, no one can force another to feel something they don’t feel or to change internally.
No one likes to feel forced to act or think a certain way, and I get that.
It’s simply not possible to force anyone to change, no matter how noble the cause that’s being fought.
What veganism does try to do is simply to expose the cruelty that exists with regards to how man treats the animals he uses for food, fur, research and entertainment.
I realize that I have no power over anyone else and my work on behalf of animals is…
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This is the Mothers’ Day post nobody wants to see. You can turn away, but that won’t change anything. There is nothing graphic here & the video is just two minutes long. I know most of you love goat cheese; I used to, too. But it comes from a mother whose baby has been taken from her, just like cows. It’s as traumatic for them as it would be for anyone. It just isn’t right to do this. And what happens to those babies? Their sole purpose in life was to make their mothers lactate. So they are slaughtered for meat.
While there isn’t a huge market for goat meat in North America, it is the most-consumed meat worldwide. So the U.S. and Canada, along with a number of other Western nations, export the baby goats to places like the Middle East, where demand for goat meat is high. Live export means these adorable animals, who have so much character and personality, will be herded by the thousands into the cargo hold of massive ships, where they will endure a journey that will take weeks. They will be crowded. They will be very hot. They will be scared and confused. Many will get sick; some will die. They will live in their own waste for the duration of the trip. Those who survive will be slaughtered barbarically, though not before seeing their friends and family slaughtered too.
Dairy is not harmless. Many people believe it’s even worse than meat, because the animals involved suffer so much more and for so much longer. It doesn’t matter if the dairy products come from cows or goats or sheep: the process and the suffering are the same. No animal produces milk without first giving birth. And we’re the only species who consumes the milk from another species — how weird is that? We don’t need it. The babies of these countless mothers do. If you’re consuming milk — or a product made from it — it’s because somewhere a baby isn’t.
Celebrate Mothers’ Day by honouring all mothers: kick the dairy habit.
I’m deviating a bit from animal rights in this post, because it’s my blog and I can do that. With Christmas just around the corner (and yes, of course I realize not everyone celebrates Christmas, but that doesn’t diminish the relevance of this post), this seems as good a time as any to bring this up — what I’m going to share with you could easily apply to any family dinner. If you love a vegan, or even just like one well enough to feed them, this post is for you.
Veganism, from the outside, can seem kind of radical and restricting and leave even an accomplished home cook at something of a loss. While you might not bat an eyelash at accommodating a vegetarian at your table, many people seem pretty flummoxed about what or how to cook when you take dairy and eggs out of the equation. (I know, because that used to be me!) So I’m going to take the mystery and intimidation out of it for you.
First of all, most vegans don’t expect you to make them a separate meal. I mean really, that kind of expectation is just not even polite. Some of us bring a dish or two, figuring it might be the only thing we’ll be eating. Most of us are fairly easy-going and don’t want to make a fuss or put you out (of course, we hope you would still include us on your guest list if we were lactose-intolerant, and this isn’t very different from a culinary standpoint).
Making your average Christmas dinner vegan is easy with a few minor substitutions. (Non-vegan “foodies” may balk at this, but hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it — it won’t ruin dinner, I promise!)
Where you would normally use chicken stock, use vegetable stock.
Where you would normally use butter, use a vegan butter, like Earth Balance.
If there’s a dish you make with sour cream or cream cheese, Tofutti’s vegan alternatives are excellent.
For milk, substitute almond, soy or rice milk (the first time I made mashed potatoes with almond milk I had serious reservations about it…and was very surprised when they tasted exactly the way I expected mashed potatoes to taste!). For cream, you could substitute cashew milk or a soy cooking cream like Belsoy. The latter is a bit of a specialty item, but I’ve seen it at major grocery chains in Canada. Look in the refrigerated organics section.
The other incredibly thoughtful thing every vegan eating with omnivores will hugely appreciate is not putting the turkey (or goose or ham, etc.) on the table. We know that to you it’s food, but to us it’s a dead animal. That might be hard for an omnivore to understand, but if you can imagine a dead, cooked pet on the table while you’re eating, trust me when I tell you that’s pretty much how we see it.
We don’t want anyone to sweat over what to feed us, but a host who makes an extra effort to make all of their guests comfortable is…well, simply a good host! But you will touch the very heart of the vegan in your life if you’d be willing to make a few substitutions for one meal. That’s a gift in and of itself.