ANIMALS AND NON-HARMING: A FEW WIDER QUESTIONS
Horace, the vervet monkey, was adopted by tabby cat Tiger Lily when he arrived at the Twala Trust Animal Sanctuary in Zimbabwe. Unlikely interspecies friendships illustrate how compassion is not a uniquely human quality.
THE FOCUS OF THIS book is on how we can best help our animal companions in their spiritual journey through this life and into their next experience of reality. Because we interact with other animals far less than our own pets, our opportunity to help them is also generally less.
All the same, as we have explored the nature of animal sentience, and how all conscious beings are just like ourselves in wishing for happiness and to avoid dissatisfaction, a number of questions may naturally have arisen. Questions like: how should I deal with insect pests like cockroaches? What about animal factory farming—does Buddhism suggest we should all go vegan? And what, if anything, can I do about ways I have, out of ignorance, not done the best for other beings in the past?
In this chapter I try to answer some of these questions, providing answers that, in some cases, may differ according to your level of engagement in Buddhism.
SHOULD I BECOME A VEGAN/VEGETARIAN?
From a Buddhist perspective, is it desirable to go vegan or vegetarian? In a word, yes. The Dalai Lama has often said that removing meat and animal products from our diet is a very positive step. Cattle, pigs, lambs and chickens are sentient beings like us. They wish for lives of freedom and safety. They feel terror and pain, just like we do. On what basis can we say that our wish to eat their flesh overrides the suffering they must endure through the barbaric practices of factory farming, culminating in the horror of an untimely, mechanised and pitiless death?
It does not take any time or money for us to stop harming animals in this way.
The litmus test of any behaviour is to ask: what would happen if every person in the world did this? If everyone became vegan, within a matter of weeks, the factory farming industry, responsible for the deaths of 3000 animals every second, would come to an abrupt halt. Agri-business would rapidly refocus on plant-based alternatives.
The meat versus vegan debate is not, however, completely black and white. Vast quantities of pesticides are used to kill insects on the crops and fruit trees whose produce is eaten by vegans and vegetarians. What’s more, when land is first cleared, whether to grow maize or rear cattle, the natural habitat is destroyed and, along with it, countless sentient beings to whom it was home.
While being a vegetarian or vegan brings an end to the horror of the abattoir, it does not end the killing of conscious beings. There is something unthinkingly size-ist and/or species-ist about only caring for beings that weigh over 20 grams, or are attractively cute or possess demonstrably high IQs.
Is it better to kill one cow or a thousand insects? I have encountered a wide variety of perspectives on this subject. Suffice it to say—we are now dealing in shades of grey. The sobering reality is that in order for us to live, others die.
This is a subject I contemplate every time I set out for Dharma class along roads where, at certain times of the year, I regularly drive through clouds of insects, killing countless dozens. Should I stay at home, rather, and avoid the mass slaughter, but also potentially hold back my inner development, the end result of which is enlightenment for the benefit of all beings, including the bugs themselves?
Given that there are few easy answers, the advice of lamas is to strive for moderation. If giving up meat completely seems a step too far, at least try to cut down significantly on your meat intake. As Matthieu Ricard points out in his book, A Plea for the Animals, the reasons people typically give for eating meat have no moral value—for example, because we like the taste of it; because it’s too hard to change our habit of eating it; because others in the family eat it; because humans were ‘made’ to eat meat; because we don’t know what else to cook.
A visit to the local vegetarian shelves of the supermarket will reveal that there are plenty of delicious meat substitute choices available. As omnivores, humans thrive without meat. And there are signs that more people in developed countries are choosing to become ‘flexitarian’, opting increasingly for vegetarian meal options.
Rather than simplistic directives about what you should and should not eat, therefore, Tibetan Buddhism encourages us to be mindful about the impact of our food and other lifestyle choices. To avoid gratuitous waste and the unseen horror and death that it brings to untold, voiceless others, conveniently out of sight. To recollect and honour the sacrifice they have been forced to make every time we sit down to eat a meal or enjoy a drink. To get into the habit of reflecting along the following lines, as we begin to eat our meal:
‘By nourishing my body, may I quickly achieve complete and perfect enlightenment for the benefit of all living beings, and may those who died, so that I could eat this food, quickly achieve complete and perfect enlightenment.’
HOW SHOULD I DEAL WITH ANIMAL PESTS LIKE APHIDS, COCKROACHES AND OTHERS?
Aphids just want to be happy too. The trouble is, their flourishing requires the destruction of our rosebuds, and herein lies our dilemma.
Buddhists strive to live by the ideal of non-harmfulness. Compassion is one of the central themes of the tradition. So, too, is wisdom. Often, we need to apply both in equal measure.
There are many ways to help avoid being troubled by unwanted animals. Some of these preventative measures are common sense, like not leaving food out in places where it will attract ants, or spraying rosebuds, and other ‘at risk’ plants, with essential oils, which act as a powerful aphid/insect repellent.
We may need to do online research to learn about longer term, sustainable and non-harmful ways to deter insects and other animals from bothering us. For example, there are certain plants like onions, garlic and other alliums that repel aphids. Birdbaths, birdhouses and planting other bird-friendly plants will encourage a more balanced ecosystem in our garden that will also prevent aphid infestation.
At the Tibetan Buddhist centre I attend, which is bordered by a national park, we have ended up having to remove many rose bushes because kangaroos kept eating all the blooms, and we were unable to find any natural deterrent against kangaroos apart from dingo urine, which isn’t exactly something you can buy at the supermarket! The kangaroos show no interest at all in some of the native plants which have been used to replace the roses.
Sometimes we need to experiment with different products until we find one that works for us. Putting up protective barriers, like gauze curtains, can help fend off unwanted visitors. And it helps to keep large, empty matchboxes near points of entry in our house so that should, for example, a cockroach find his way inside, we have what we need on hand to capture and remove him (while recollecting our bodhichitta motivation). If the idea of catching a roach to release it outside revolts you, consider that in protecting its life, you are creating the cause for your own life to be protected or extended. Motivated by bodhichitta, you have empowered this protection immeasurably. What a wonderful opportunity that cockroach is presenting to you!
There may be occasions when the destruction of large numbers of beings is simply unavoidable—like the discovery of white ants in part of the wooden structure of our house. At these times, we can only do our best to minimise suffering, to recollect our bodhichitta motivation and to recite mantras and undertake the other practices previously outlined for the benefit of the many beings now entering the bardo.
Overall, given that prevention is generally so much easier than cure, the best way to deal with animal pests is to do all we can to avoid attracting them to us in the first place.
IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO TO DEAL WITH CONFRONTING CASES OF ANIMAL SUFFERING?
On an ongoing basis we are exposed to the reality of Buddha’s First Noble Truth—the existence of suffering—especially where it concerns other sentient beings. The body of a dead animal or ‘road kill’ at the side of the bitumen. The pursuit of vulnerable animals by predators. Road trains filled with sheep or cattle on their way to port, and an arduous journey, followed by slaughter in a foreign abattoir. Live export ranks as one of the most oppressive forms of legalised cruelty, as well as an indictment on our society which, as Gandhi once noted, can be judged by the way its animals are treated. But what can we do as we pass another consignment of sentient beings on their way to misery and death?
Zasep Tulku Rinpoche recommends reciting the mantra of Chenrezig, the Buddha of Compassion, Om mani padme hum, as we send out wishes for the ultimate happiness and enlightenment of the beings on the truck. We can do the same as we pass the body of a dead animal, wishing for it to quickly achieve enlightenment. And this mantra can be used in other situations where we are bystanders but somehow wish to help. Given that animals are intuitive, and to varying extents telepathic, we should not underestimate the effect of our positive messages of support.
On a very practical basis, we can join campaigning groups as members, or at least connect with them on social media and support their activities. Whether our support is as simple as ‘Liking’ posts, or requires more commitment, like writing to community newspapers, lobbying local members of parliament, taking part in awareness-raising activities, or becoming ongoing financial donors, we can all contribute to the ending of inequities and cruelty. My wife and I support a number of animal charities and causes for this reason. In the case of issues like live export, in particular, I am often reminded of the well-known maxim that for evil to triumph, all it takes is for good people to do nothing.
I FEEL BAD ABOUT THE WAY I HAVE TREATED PETS OR ANIMALS IN THE PAST. IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO TO MAKE IT UP TO THEM?
Buddhism takes a strong line on guilt: it is a wasted emotion. Being eaten up with negativity because of the way you acted in the past is not only of no benefit to you or anyone else, it may very well hold you back from living to your full potential.
Regret, on the other hand, can be more useful. When we recognise that we have thought, said or done something we wish we hadn’t, we can try to make amends. If that isn’t possible, we can at the very least make a determined effort not to repeat the action.
If you are filled with regret at the memory of fishing expeditions as a teenager, catapulting birds, stamping on insects or other acts of violence and cruelty, there are things you can do. The minds of the beings you hurt still exist somewhere. In the case of pets, in particular, there is still that karmic connection. If you are a Buddhist, lamas recommend saying mantras, and dedicating your practice for the benefit of the being about whom you have regrets.
The practical steps outlined in the answer to the previous question, such as supporting animal charities, are another way to help make amends, and turn regret into a positive motivating force.
And there are other, broader-based activities you can undertake, dedicating the merit from so doing to the benefit of those you harmed. These include things like installing a birdbath in your garden and keeping it replenished with fresh water. Or a feeder, especially in winter, to sustain the birds. You can volunteer at animal shelters, or foster a pet. Participate in community clean-ups, or take it upon yourself to ensure a local pond is kept free of garbage and other waste that could be harmful to birds and other wildlife.
These are just a few suggestions to help spark your own creativity, and help transform a negative feeling about something that can’t be changed, into a positive force for compassion.
I’VE HEARD OF THE BUDDHIST TRADITION OF RELEASING ANIMALS WHO HAVE BEEN CAUGHT—LIKE THE LOBSTERS YOU SEE IN AQUARIUMS AT SOME RESTAURANTS. IS THIS A USEFUL PRACTICE?
This certainly is a tradition in some Buddhist cultures, but not one that translates very well into the contemporary world. The ideas behind it are to free the animals involved, as an act of compassion, and also to cultivate the karmic causes for enjoying protection and longer life—whether in this lifetime or a future one.
There are some obvious problems when it comes to applying this practice today. If you were to head off to your nearest Chinese restaurant that has live lobsters and buy up all their stock, chances are that a fresh delivery would arrive within a very short space of time. You would therefore simply be accelerating the demand for more lobsters to be captured—the opposite of the result you seek.
Then there is the practical matter of making sure you can, in fact, release the rescued lobsters. Are you sure you can release them into an area where they can survive and flourish, and where it is legal for you to do what you are doing? And how are you going to ensure they make the journey successfully from restaurant to ocean in properly oxygenated water?
There are some markets in Asia where stallholders participate in a frenzy of bird trapping in the lead-up to Buddhist festivities, so that the locals have plenty of birds to buy up in order to release them. A grotesque aberration, surely, of the wish to practise compassion?
My own view is that the best way to bring to an end practices we find abhorrent is to vote with our wallets. To withdraw our custom from those who perpetuate cruelty and encourage others to do the same. Whether keeping lobsters in restaurant aquariums before plunging them into boiling water is any more cruel than the containment and killing practices of factory farming can be debated.
Working out the right thing to do is sometimes complex. But we may also find ourselves in situations where we can save animals from certain death without unintended consequences, and we can take joy from helping. There is the well-known tale of the man who walked along a beach, bending every so often to collect a stranded starfish to throw into the sea.
‘There are miles of beach and hundreds of starfish!’ observed a passer-by. ‘You can’t make a difference!’
Throwing a starfish into the water, the other replied, ‘I made a difference to that one!’
Snails making their way across the footpath. A mouse or lizard who has been cornered by the cat. A bird that has been stunned, or is being attacked by others of its species. These all offer the opportunity to protect life and practise compassion.
Om mani padme hum!
I HAVE THE EXPERIENCE OF ‘SEEING’ ANIMALS AND/OR BEING AWARE OF PARTICULAR SPECIES OF ANIMALS EITHER WHILE AWAKE OR IN DREAMS. WHAT IS HAPPENING?
It is not uncommon for people to be aware of animal spirits. These may be the momentary glimpse of an appearance like our once-loved but deceased pet, or perhaps an animal with whom we have no previous connection.
I personally have had the experience of feeling like I saw the ghost of my much-loved cat entering the room. The experience lasted for a second, or even less. Do I really think it was her, manifesting in some way?
My answer is: I honestly don’t know, but I doubt it. There was no purpose to the apparent sighting. No useful message was conveyed. I wasn’t feeling particularly bereft of her presence at the time. Perhaps I was just imagining what happened, and a more prosaic explanation of light and wind may be the reason I thought I saw something.
This is not to say that I don’t believe in ghosts. There are just too many anecdotal sightings made by too many level-headed people to dismiss the phenomena. Where I think we have to be careful is in jumping to conclusions about what the apparitions are. The truth is that we don’t know enough about ghosts to be certain. Saying they are the spirits of the dead is one explanation. But what if they are the work of other, unknown entities simply taking on the appearance of the dead person for some reason, good or ill?
If the concept of rebirth is correct—and, interestingly, many psychics who say they communicate with spirits of the dead also say they believe in rebirth—there is an apparent contradiction in suggesting, on the one hand, that after death, mind finds rebirth in another form, while, on the other, claiming this same mind may manifest at various intervals, perhaps years later, taking on the appearance of its old form. Can a three-year-old boy be playing happily with his toys while simultaneously manifesting as the ghost of the much-loved dog of his former lifetime to its previous owner? Can we have it both ways?
Not understanding the workings of energy at its most subtle level, all I can say is that it is a ‘known unknown’.
Our distant ancestors believed that the appearance of animal spirits, especially when they recurred—whether that of a once-loved pet, or a completely different animal—happened in order to deliver a particular message.
At the most subtle level, you may keep noticing a specific and perhaps unusual animal—say, a flamingo—incorporated into the design of items you handle, or places you visit. Perhaps this animal keeps coming up in your dreams. You don’t necessarily have to ‘see’ a flamingo walk into your sitting room in broad daylight for the presence of flamingo-ness to penetrate your consciousness.
It doesn’t really matter whether we accept the existence of animal spirits, or regard these happenings more along the lines of symbols arising from the unconscious—all arise from mind, in any case. What’s interesting is the totemic significance possessed by animals, which our forebears would have understood, but which, after centuries of dislocation from nature, we have long forgotten.
If you have the experience of being especially aware of a particular animal, or identify very strongly with a particular species, I suggest you explore the world of animal totems through writers such as Ted Andrews and Scott Alexander King to help decode the symbolic significance of what you are intuitively feeling, thereby bringing to the surface a potentially life-enhancing message.