401:
One might consider the idea of veganism as a small raindrop landing on a duck’s back – the idea of it may easily enter the imagination but if it seems impossible, too painful, too daunting, then it’s likely we’ll shake off the raindrop, we’ll ditch the whole idea (despite how obvious the advantages might seem to be). No one opts for pain.
Even if one had to contemplate a vegan lifestyle and had read a couple of books about it, it might still remain beyond the pail ... to do it. Why, for example, would we voluntarily opt for living ‘vegan’ if the pleasure of it still eluded us? You’d surely agree, that if you can’t come at ‘being vegan’ you can never be of much help to the animals because if you’re not vegan it follows that you’re still eating them. How could you ever trust yourself? How could the animals ever trust you to be their spokesperson? You’d be quite the traitor if you were still helping to kill them whilst trying to save them.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Farm animals for 'the eating’
400:
The most abused animals are the food animals. What if they could speak? What would they say about caged hens and machine-controlled cows? What would they say about denuded forests and the latest frightening changes to the weather? They’d give us such an ear-bashing.
It’s just as well they’re voiceless. But it’s sad. Omnivores are responsible for so much of this sadness. And what’s worse they don’t admit to the part they play in the killing.
That act of animal sabotage happens in the clinical, mechanised surroundings of the modern abattoir or in the backyard at the hands of the farmer. It’s the same terror for the animal in the type of death it suffers. It’s murder, slaughter, execution or torture - call it what you like, it happens to every domesticated animal used for food, weather killed for its carcass or to end its life when its productivity has ended and keeping it alive no longer makes economic sense.
If you care to read the next 600 words you’ll see how an animal being killed is difficult and how it impacts on the more tender hearted person - it’s a depiction of a pig being slaughtered in the nineteenth century, not behind closed doors but out in the open, a familiar process then, yet no easier than it ever was or has become.
A passage from Jude The Obscure by Thomas Hardy - The killing of the pig
It was thick snow, and the pig-killer was over-due. It seemed he was not coming and the pig had to be killed that day since Jude and Arabella had run out of barleymeal mixture the day before. The pig had been starving since then. Jude says to his wife Arabella, “What - he has been starving?”
“Yes. We always do it the last day or two, to save bother with the innerds. What ignorance, not to know that!”
“That accounts for his crying so. Poor creature!”
“Well - you must do the sticking - there’s no help for it. It must be done”.
He went out to the sty ... and placed the stool in front, with the knives and ropes at hand. A robin peered down at the preparations from the nearest tree, and not liking the sinister look of the scene, flew away ... Jude, rope in hand, got into the sty, and noosed the affrighted animal, who, beginning with a squeak of surprise, rose to repeated cries of rage. ...they hoisted the victim onto the stool, legs upward, and while Jude held him Arabella bound him down, looping the cord over his legs to keep him from struggling.
The animal’s note changed its quality. It was not now rage, but the cry of despair; long drawn, slow and hopeless.
“Upon my soul I would sooner have gone without the pig than have had this to do!” said Jude. “A creature I have fed with my own hands.”
“Don’t be such a tender-hearted fool! There’s the sticking-knife - the one with the point. Now whatever you do, don’t stick un too deep.”
“I’ll stick him effectually, so as to make short work of it. That’s the chief thing.”
“You must not!” she cried. “The meat must be well bled, and to do that he must die slow. We shall lose a shilling a score if the meat is red and bloody! Just touch the vein, that’s all. I was brought up to it, and I know. Every good butcher keeps un bleeding long. He ought to be eight or ten minutes dying, at least.”
“He shall not be half a minute if I can help it, however the meat may look,” said Jude determinedly. Scraping the bristles from the pig’s upturned throat, as he had seen the butchers do, he slit the fat; then plunged in the knife with all his might.
“ ‘Od damn it all!” she cried, “That ever I should say it! You’ve over-stuck un! And I telling you all the time - ”
“Do be quiet, Arabella, and have a little pity on the creature.”
... However unworkmanlike the deed, it had been mercifully done. The blood flowed out in a torrent instead of in the trickling stream she had desired. The dying animal’s cry assumed its third and final tone, the shriek of agony; his glazing eyes riveting themselves on Arabella with the eloquently keen reproach of a creature recognizing at last the treachery of those who seemed his only friends.
“Make un stop that!” said Arabella. “Such a noise will bring somebody or other up here, and I don’t want people to know we are doing it ourselves. Picking up the knife from the ground whereupon Jude had flung it, she slipped it into the gash, and slit the windpipe. The pig was instantly silent, his dying breath coming through the hole.
“That’s better,” she said.
“It is a hateful business!” said he.
“Pigs must be killed.”
The most abused animals are the food animals. What if they could speak? What would they say about caged hens and machine-controlled cows? What would they say about denuded forests and the latest frightening changes to the weather? They’d give us such an ear-bashing.
It’s just as well they’re voiceless. But it’s sad. Omnivores are responsible for so much of this sadness. And what’s worse they don’t admit to the part they play in the killing.
That act of animal sabotage happens in the clinical, mechanised surroundings of the modern abattoir or in the backyard at the hands of the farmer. It’s the same terror for the animal in the type of death it suffers. It’s murder, slaughter, execution or torture - call it what you like, it happens to every domesticated animal used for food, weather killed for its carcass or to end its life when its productivity has ended and keeping it alive no longer makes economic sense.
If you care to read the next 600 words you’ll see how an animal being killed is difficult and how it impacts on the more tender hearted person - it’s a depiction of a pig being slaughtered in the nineteenth century, not behind closed doors but out in the open, a familiar process then, yet no easier than it ever was or has become.
A passage from Jude The Obscure by Thomas Hardy - The killing of the pig
It was thick snow, and the pig-killer was over-due. It seemed he was not coming and the pig had to be killed that day since Jude and Arabella had run out of barleymeal mixture the day before. The pig had been starving since then. Jude says to his wife Arabella, “What - he has been starving?”
“Yes. We always do it the last day or two, to save bother with the innerds. What ignorance, not to know that!”
“That accounts for his crying so. Poor creature!”
“Well - you must do the sticking - there’s no help for it. It must be done”.
He went out to the sty ... and placed the stool in front, with the knives and ropes at hand. A robin peered down at the preparations from the nearest tree, and not liking the sinister look of the scene, flew away ... Jude, rope in hand, got into the sty, and noosed the affrighted animal, who, beginning with a squeak of surprise, rose to repeated cries of rage. ...they hoisted the victim onto the stool, legs upward, and while Jude held him Arabella bound him down, looping the cord over his legs to keep him from struggling.
The animal’s note changed its quality. It was not now rage, but the cry of despair; long drawn, slow and hopeless.
“Upon my soul I would sooner have gone without the pig than have had this to do!” said Jude. “A creature I have fed with my own hands.”
“Don’t be such a tender-hearted fool! There’s the sticking-knife - the one with the point. Now whatever you do, don’t stick un too deep.”
“I’ll stick him effectually, so as to make short work of it. That’s the chief thing.”
“You must not!” she cried. “The meat must be well bled, and to do that he must die slow. We shall lose a shilling a score if the meat is red and bloody! Just touch the vein, that’s all. I was brought up to it, and I know. Every good butcher keeps un bleeding long. He ought to be eight or ten minutes dying, at least.”
“He shall not be half a minute if I can help it, however the meat may look,” said Jude determinedly. Scraping the bristles from the pig’s upturned throat, as he had seen the butchers do, he slit the fat; then plunged in the knife with all his might.
“ ‘Od damn it all!” she cried, “That ever I should say it! You’ve over-stuck un! And I telling you all the time - ”
“Do be quiet, Arabella, and have a little pity on the creature.”
... However unworkmanlike the deed, it had been mercifully done. The blood flowed out in a torrent instead of in the trickling stream she had desired. The dying animal’s cry assumed its third and final tone, the shriek of agony; his glazing eyes riveting themselves on Arabella with the eloquently keen reproach of a creature recognizing at last the treachery of those who seemed his only friends.
“Make un stop that!” said Arabella. “Such a noise will bring somebody or other up here, and I don’t want people to know we are doing it ourselves. Picking up the knife from the ground whereupon Jude had flung it, she slipped it into the gash, and slit the windpipe. The pig was instantly silent, his dying breath coming through the hole.
“That’s better,” she said.
“It is a hateful business!” said he.
“Pigs must be killed.”
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Altruism and optimism
396:
Out of optimism comes stability, and if our optimism persists, stability increases, and it brings a sense of permanence. The sort of change that is made by people who ‘go-vegan’, as it stabilises and as habits form and as the practical difficulties are ironed out, brings about a sense of being ‘vegan-for-life’. There’s a sense that we’ve got past the temptation stage where we may slip back into our old ways, and find that even those things we thought we’d definitely miss ... somehow they fade in importance.
No one was more surprised at this than I was.
To achieve this change, to get to the point where I felt entirely at home being vegan, was rather strange in a way, because I knew that I lived in a society where most people have never even given ‘going-vegetarian’ any serious thought. Their meat and dairy foods, and their woollens and their leather shoes, are part of their everyday life - so much so that it might seem impossible to maintain a lifestyle where these foods and commodities don’t play a major part. That’s what I thought but it’s not how I think now, especially because other interesting bits of life open up.
Vegans, once established in their food and clothing regimes, are free to look ahead into other interesting areas, all of which are quite out of the question for anyone still using abattoir products. Those who are still omnivores will find it impossible, for example, to explore the principle of harmlessness, which is central to a vegan lifestyle. Vegans understand that a lot of the negativity which omnivores feel against us, is coming out of a frustration of, daily, being so closely connected with the violence of the Animal Industries ... so for them there’s bound to be some pessimism about the world and its future in general. If any of us allow this pessimism to dominate our reality, we might come to believe in the inevitability of ‘The Coming Catastrophe’.
Pessimism can bring us to believe that change is only made possible by the use of force - “change has to be big and fast, otherwise it won’t work. It will soon fade through lack of momentum”. Something like veganism doesn’t seem dramatic enough to set off the chain reaction major social change needs.
But here is where I think we have it all wrong - veganism establishes the basis for reform. It might seem hardly noticeable to those who can still ignore it but when it enters your life it establishes itself deeply. Veganism is so profound that most people hardly recognise it for what it is. If it suggests any sort of solution it can easily seem unreachable or unrealistic. It represents a fundamental change in the way we view life - it’s an unpopular philosophical view on life which is easily dismissed.
However, popular or not, it is precisely in tune with the character of the 21st century. It’s thoroughness and optimism promotes a root-and-branch change, despite the fact that it might not show any signs of ‘flowering’ during our own lifetime.
Is that long-term prospect off-putting?
The two reactions Society might make - “It’s already too late, so why bother?” and “I don’t give a stuff about the future anyway”, are merely expressions of pessimism and selfishness, neither of which will impress future generations one little bit when it’s their turn to analyse the history of the early part of the century. That particularly negative outlook is certainly not characteristic of ethically driven vegans.
Out of optimism comes stability, and if our optimism persists, stability increases, and it brings a sense of permanence. The sort of change that is made by people who ‘go-vegan’, as it stabilises and as habits form and as the practical difficulties are ironed out, brings about a sense of being ‘vegan-for-life’. There’s a sense that we’ve got past the temptation stage where we may slip back into our old ways, and find that even those things we thought we’d definitely miss ... somehow they fade in importance.
No one was more surprised at this than I was.
To achieve this change, to get to the point where I felt entirely at home being vegan, was rather strange in a way, because I knew that I lived in a society where most people have never even given ‘going-vegetarian’ any serious thought. Their meat and dairy foods, and their woollens and their leather shoes, are part of their everyday life - so much so that it might seem impossible to maintain a lifestyle where these foods and commodities don’t play a major part. That’s what I thought but it’s not how I think now, especially because other interesting bits of life open up.
Vegans, once established in their food and clothing regimes, are free to look ahead into other interesting areas, all of which are quite out of the question for anyone still using abattoir products. Those who are still omnivores will find it impossible, for example, to explore the principle of harmlessness, which is central to a vegan lifestyle. Vegans understand that a lot of the negativity which omnivores feel against us, is coming out of a frustration of, daily, being so closely connected with the violence of the Animal Industries ... so for them there’s bound to be some pessimism about the world and its future in general. If any of us allow this pessimism to dominate our reality, we might come to believe in the inevitability of ‘The Coming Catastrophe’.
Pessimism can bring us to believe that change is only made possible by the use of force - “change has to be big and fast, otherwise it won’t work. It will soon fade through lack of momentum”. Something like veganism doesn’t seem dramatic enough to set off the chain reaction major social change needs.
But here is where I think we have it all wrong - veganism establishes the basis for reform. It might seem hardly noticeable to those who can still ignore it but when it enters your life it establishes itself deeply. Veganism is so profound that most people hardly recognise it for what it is. If it suggests any sort of solution it can easily seem unreachable or unrealistic. It represents a fundamental change in the way we view life - it’s an unpopular philosophical view on life which is easily dismissed.
However, popular or not, it is precisely in tune with the character of the 21st century. It’s thoroughness and optimism promotes a root-and-branch change, despite the fact that it might not show any signs of ‘flowering’ during our own lifetime.
Is that long-term prospect off-putting?
The two reactions Society might make - “It’s already too late, so why bother?” and “I don’t give a stuff about the future anyway”, are merely expressions of pessimism and selfishness, neither of which will impress future generations one little bit when it’s their turn to analyse the history of the early part of the century. That particularly negative outlook is certainly not characteristic of ethically driven vegans.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Greater good revisited
394:
I suppose I’m arguing that to ignore animal issues is dangerous. In body terms it’s like being passive about an illness when a deadly virus is taking us over. We think we can ignore it and carry on as usual, doing what everyone else is doing, getting away with it ... thinking we can grow sufficiently in the comfort of a consumer-istic atmosphere, without any ill effects.
If we want our society to be a strong force for good on the planet then we have to set personal standards. We have to let our enthusiasm for the greater good move freely with the other great forces we recognise in life - altruism and optimism.
Altruism is probably not very much different to optimism since both deal in a combination of good intention and satisfying outcome. When you set out for good results and it works for you, you tend to feel optimistic; perhaps optimism is the result of setting standards for self-pleasure that are directed by an altruistic urge to be unselfishly-useful. When it works (and how can it not work?) we recharge our energy. We experience the pleasure of discharging energy for others’ benefit, and being involved with each other in that way often results in reciprocation and a beneficial mutual exchange.
Optimism shows up like a light. Others can’t help but see it, especially when it isn’t a show-off but simply seen operating our daily habits. And that needn’t be anything special if only because we all enjoy habits which involve some self-discipline. Just as lifeguards love to be on the beach to save lives when people get into difficulties, we all like being useful. We like to be needed. Whole relationships can surely be based on this same pleasure-service principle.
As we develop new and sometimes not-so-easy-to-install habits, for example in setting up a vegan lifestyle, the main driver is usually optimism. We look forward to a better, more pleasure-giving habit, a more useful way of living based on give and take. When we act optimistically, habits fall into place. Maybe, like kids settling in on their first day at school, new habits are a bit shaky at first. It’s optimism that gets us over the hump, in our habit-building. We are, if we did but know it, preparing for the repair-journey ahead. Perhaps we instinctively know that new habits are preparing us for change, for what we will have to get used to soon enough.
I suppose I’m arguing that to ignore animal issues is dangerous. In body terms it’s like being passive about an illness when a deadly virus is taking us over. We think we can ignore it and carry on as usual, doing what everyone else is doing, getting away with it ... thinking we can grow sufficiently in the comfort of a consumer-istic atmosphere, without any ill effects.
If we want our society to be a strong force for good on the planet then we have to set personal standards. We have to let our enthusiasm for the greater good move freely with the other great forces we recognise in life - altruism and optimism.
Altruism is probably not very much different to optimism since both deal in a combination of good intention and satisfying outcome. When you set out for good results and it works for you, you tend to feel optimistic; perhaps optimism is the result of setting standards for self-pleasure that are directed by an altruistic urge to be unselfishly-useful. When it works (and how can it not work?) we recharge our energy. We experience the pleasure of discharging energy for others’ benefit, and being involved with each other in that way often results in reciprocation and a beneficial mutual exchange.
Optimism shows up like a light. Others can’t help but see it, especially when it isn’t a show-off but simply seen operating our daily habits. And that needn’t be anything special if only because we all enjoy habits which involve some self-discipline. Just as lifeguards love to be on the beach to save lives when people get into difficulties, we all like being useful. We like to be needed. Whole relationships can surely be based on this same pleasure-service principle.
As we develop new and sometimes not-so-easy-to-install habits, for example in setting up a vegan lifestyle, the main driver is usually optimism. We look forward to a better, more pleasure-giving habit, a more useful way of living based on give and take. When we act optimistically, habits fall into place. Maybe, like kids settling in on their first day at school, new habits are a bit shaky at first. It’s optimism that gets us over the hump, in our habit-building. We are, if we did but know it, preparing for the repair-journey ahead. Perhaps we instinctively know that new habits are preparing us for change, for what we will have to get used to soon enough.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Consistent ethics
393:
Most people think that we can only be effective if we have specialist knowledge, but what expertise is needed to know that the animal business is wrong and to know to keep well clear of it? When something isn’t right we know it in our gut, it comes from intuition and inborn values. A familiar comment from new vegans is, “Why didn’t I see it before?”
From my own experience, as soon as I tap into instinct, things become clearer, and then I’m more likely to gravitate towards ‘the greater good’... only because it seems so obvious. What counts, I think, is optimism and faith and you can’t sustain much of that if you are hanging around the gates of the abattoir, figuratively speaking. Following convention without questioning it, eating food which we haven’t examined ethically, doesn’t bode well for the future.
When any of us choose not to buy something that we may want, and we stop ourselves for ethical reasons, we make an important statement. We say, for instance with animal food, that we can’t eat what shouldn’t even exist - namely foods associated with animals.
By setting an example in one field but not in another equally important field, we lose credibility. It’s the same problem we have in any advancement, whether it’s our career, lifestyle, relationships or spiritual progress. By neglecting any one vital issue, simply because it doesn’t suit our convenience, we introduce too much incompleteness into our life, and that surely leads to double standards.
In the end, if we can’t muster sufficient personal power to change any faulty parts of our own daily existence, then we have less personal authority ... without which we can’t fight corruption or change the system we live in.
Most people think that we can only be effective if we have specialist knowledge, but what expertise is needed to know that the animal business is wrong and to know to keep well clear of it? When something isn’t right we know it in our gut, it comes from intuition and inborn values. A familiar comment from new vegans is, “Why didn’t I see it before?”
From my own experience, as soon as I tap into instinct, things become clearer, and then I’m more likely to gravitate towards ‘the greater good’... only because it seems so obvious. What counts, I think, is optimism and faith and you can’t sustain much of that if you are hanging around the gates of the abattoir, figuratively speaking. Following convention without questioning it, eating food which we haven’t examined ethically, doesn’t bode well for the future.
When any of us choose not to buy something that we may want, and we stop ourselves for ethical reasons, we make an important statement. We say, for instance with animal food, that we can’t eat what shouldn’t even exist - namely foods associated with animals.
By setting an example in one field but not in another equally important field, we lose credibility. It’s the same problem we have in any advancement, whether it’s our career, lifestyle, relationships or spiritual progress. By neglecting any one vital issue, simply because it doesn’t suit our convenience, we introduce too much incompleteness into our life, and that surely leads to double standards.
In the end, if we can’t muster sufficient personal power to change any faulty parts of our own daily existence, then we have less personal authority ... without which we can’t fight corruption or change the system we live in.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
An end to pessimism
391:
For over sixty years vegan activists have been forming teams of animal advocates, each working to stop the juggernaut before it swallows us whole, doing it by boycotting the animal-abuse industry and all the other highly destructive industries. What we do is done in the spirit of optimism, helping each other to drop our ingrained pessimistic belief, that whatever we do we won’t even scratch the surface.
We do what we can do - we change to eco-friendly light globes, recycle newspapers, support organic farming if we can afford to and, most importantly, eat plant-based foods. Everything we do in this way is valuable, but if we think what we do “won’t make a scrap of difference to the world” then we’re doomed before we’ve even started. If we can drop our pessimism we’re more likely to avert Earth’s downfall.
If optimism is to gain strength, to become something more than just a nice idea, it must be substantial enough to carry us over the tough spots. It must be based not on personal success but on the greater good ... with ‘my interests’ put second. Then nothing can possibly go wrong.
For over sixty years vegan activists have been forming teams of animal advocates, each working to stop the juggernaut before it swallows us whole, doing it by boycotting the animal-abuse industry and all the other highly destructive industries. What we do is done in the spirit of optimism, helping each other to drop our ingrained pessimistic belief, that whatever we do we won’t even scratch the surface.
We do what we can do - we change to eco-friendly light globes, recycle newspapers, support organic farming if we can afford to and, most importantly, eat plant-based foods. Everything we do in this way is valuable, but if we think what we do “won’t make a scrap of difference to the world” then we’re doomed before we’ve even started. If we can drop our pessimism we’re more likely to avert Earth’s downfall.
If optimism is to gain strength, to become something more than just a nice idea, it must be substantial enough to carry us over the tough spots. It must be based not on personal success but on the greater good ... with ‘my interests’ put second. Then nothing can possibly go wrong.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Investing in vegan principle
389:
If the number one fear for most of us is killer disease and degenerative illness then number two must be fear of energy-loss. The energy that can keep deterioration away is almost horded.
Energy equates with health and any energy spent must be justified and purposeful. It isn’t something we use up for no reason, so for ‘unsupported’ causes like veganism people may not want to invest in it if they don’t think it stands a chance of coming to anything. If we see no ‘me-advantage’ in the vegan deal, perhaps we’re likely to be stingy with our energy.
If we take up any major cause we probably want to believe that it will make a difference, otherwise our efforts will be wasted. And there’s the rub. We’re all afraid of backing the wrong horse (horrible expression) and no one wants to be associated with a bunch of losers.
It’s a gamble going vegan. We gamble with energy, time and money. We gamble on very long-odds.
Taking up veganism as an idea is hard enough but to engage our minds in it, invest in it, expect so much of it, squander energy on promoting it … perhaps we say to our self “What a waste of time”.
Having faith in this one single idea is a big ask.
If the number one fear for most of us is killer disease and degenerative illness then number two must be fear of energy-loss. The energy that can keep deterioration away is almost horded.
Energy equates with health and any energy spent must be justified and purposeful. It isn’t something we use up for no reason, so for ‘unsupported’ causes like veganism people may not want to invest in it if they don’t think it stands a chance of coming to anything. If we see no ‘me-advantage’ in the vegan deal, perhaps we’re likely to be stingy with our energy.
If we take up any major cause we probably want to believe that it will make a difference, otherwise our efforts will be wasted. And there’s the rub. We’re all afraid of backing the wrong horse (horrible expression) and no one wants to be associated with a bunch of losers.
It’s a gamble going vegan. We gamble with energy, time and money. We gamble on very long-odds.
Taking up veganism as an idea is hard enough but to engage our minds in it, invest in it, expect so much of it, squander energy on promoting it … perhaps we say to our self “What a waste of time”.
Having faith in this one single idea is a big ask.
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