DEEP ECOLOGY, MEAT CONSUMPTION, AND CONSERVATION
Today, all mainstream animal agriculture is highly specialized and segmented. One of the ideas behind this approach is the view that it is more efficient to focus on one kind of production, and even one aspect of that production. For beef cattle that means specializing in breeding, birthing and weaning, feeding and finishing, or slaughtering and processing. Most of the farmers discussed in the previous chapter stray from the norm by taking on all aspects of the life (and death) of the cattle. They do, however, specialize in cattle. Another approach involves mixing species. This used to be commonplace.
One person who spoke strongly against the specialized and segmented approach was Keith Swanson. When we spoke he was part of Thundering Hooves Ranch in Walla Walla, Washington (which has since closed), and he now runs Blue Valley Meats. When we met with Swanson at his meat shop he said, “It is hard to break out of being segmented. However, there is only a small profit margin in the segmented paradigm and the people involved in that kind of production have no idea of the quality of their end product. Their only goal is to produce heavy animals fast.” He went on to discuss the hidden costs of unhealthy animals’ reliance on grain and medication and the need to grow and harvest corn and other grain on a large scale. The segmented system results in soil degradation that then necessitates fertilizers, which require a great amount of oil and water. He said, “There is no sustainability in that system because it is only ever taking organic matter from the soil. When the farmer depends on fertilizers the soil becomes like a drug addict—every year it is more depleted and needs a bigger ‘hit’ than the last year. In that system nature is the enemy.” He thought farmers should instead see themselves as part of nature and work with the natural processes. Swanson said, “If you utilize the laws of nature as your friend then half the battle is over. Leave the ecosystem alone—the soil has micro-organisms and worms that will do the plowing for you. It pays to treat the land right, and you don’t have to be organic to know that.” Since any health benefits from meat are connected to the quality of the grass available for the livestock, the more segmented and grain-based system is bad not just for the land and animals but also for human health.
Part of any meat system includes the death of the animals. Swanson said, “Something will eat them, whether it’s wolves, bears, or humans. If you want cattle to be alive (because without humans they’ll go extinct) we have to kill them.” Thundering Hooves did try to keep the process as stress-free as possible. The cattle were not confined until right before the slaughter truck arrived. Since the cattle were regularly moved as part of their pasture rotation, they came when called. When asked whether there was any sense of betraying the cattle in doing this, he said no. “The cattle don’t ponder their fate as they’re waiting in the pasture before slaughter so as long as they don’t suffer while they wait there is no betrayal.” He did note that humans are also food for nature. Swanson mentioned an image of a casket with tree roots trying to get inside. He said he’d “rather be part of that tree’s system than not” and that this applied to all life.
While death itself wasn’t a problem for Swanson, he did think there was a problem with the specific breeds of cattle and chickens they used. It took longer to finish their cattle on grass because they were using cattle bred to fatten quickly on corn and yield as much meat as possible. Swanson said it would be better to get back to smaller-framed genetics in cows if they are going to be grass-fed. He thought breeding should return to a focus on hardiness and independence as well. The same applied to their chickens. They used a Cornish Cross chicken in their broiler production. The Cornish Cross is the meat chicken most in demand, since it is the industry standard. Mechanized slaughter processes demand a standard-sized bird; warehouse production demands a bird that will gain weight in the high-density living conditions; customer preferences demand more breast meat. To achieve this, those involved in industrial chicken farming bred the bird for big breasts and fast weight gain. They are ready to slaughter in six weeks or less. It is important that this time be short so that they don’t die from the polluted conditions in which they live. Customers are used to a certain taste and certain size of bird, so raising a different breed could cost them their customer base. But Swanson said the Cornish cross is not well suited to being pastured, and raising these birds added about a 25 percent death loss over raising a more hardy breed of chicken. This is also clearly a welfare concern.
Swanson admitted that even though they tried to do things “the right way,” Thundering Hooves was far from the ideal they hoped to achieve. They were trying to “create a system with the right amount of land and the right amount of ruminants.” Because they outsourced the chicken and pig production they couldn’t rotate grazing among different animals. Swanson said that would be “marvelous to do but it’s a time issue.” Rather than becoming more integrated this ranch became more of a meat distributor and retailer. According to Bruce King, “moving from a crop-oriented farm to a livestock-oriented farm required quite a bit of investment. The meat shop was a big part of this initial debt. As they added each different type of product there was a substantial investment in the equipment, facilities, and learning curve required for each one. Chickens, Turkeys, Cattle, Lamb” (“Thundering Hooves Postmortem”). King suggests that the family lost its focus on farming and that the founding farmer, Joel Huesby, become more interested in mobile slaughter facilities.
Thundering Hooves provides a good example of the complexity faced by livestock farmers today. The norm is to be a livestock producer rather than a farmer. A producer simply warehouses and feeds as many animals as she or he can. A farmer or a rancher, however, tries to raise animals in ways that are consistent with the well-being of the animals and the land on which they depend. At Thundering Hooves they were cattle ranchers, but with the increasing number of chickens and pigs, and the outsourcing of the work, they become more like producers. Often those critical of the industrialized meat industry focus their critiques on those producing the animal—that is, the farmer or the rancher. Animal husbandry—the practice of caring for the well-being of the livestock—is very time-intensive. Most farms small enough to manage in a way that truly cares for the animals need to charge more for their meat and milk to stay in business. If customers are willing to pay more it is possible to do, but people often say they can’t afford to buy organic or humanely raised animal products (or produce). (This is the same logic discussed in chapter 2 by those who say fish farming is necessary to meet consumer demand.) People in the United States spend relatively little on their food—an average of 11 percent of a family’s disposable income (Ogle 211). It’s more that they aren’t willing to pay higher prices for the amount of meat and dairy products they’d like to consume. Most could at least spend no more on these products but buy and consume less meat and dairy. That choice is rarely considered given the current cultural habits of consuming animal products at every meal.
This extravagant diet is a recent development. In the United States in the 1950s average annual meat consumption was 138 pounds while in 2000 it was 195 pounds. That increase of 57 pounds consisted of 7 more of red meat, 46 more of poultry, and 4 more of fish (“Profiling Food Consumption” 15). Commercials push burgers, bacon, and cheese. Such consumption only became affordable for most people with the industrialization of meat, dairy, and egg production. But with the changes in how the livestock were bred, raised, and killed, the animal products also changed. Growing concern about some of these changes means consumers need to take some responsibility as well. One way some consumers have started to put their money where their mouths are is joining a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). CSAs are a way for consumers to share the risks and rewards with the farmer. Consumers buy shares, and this money is used to raise and harvest the food. Whatever is produced is then shared with the CSA members. Produce CSAs are very common now, and meat and egg CSAs are growing in number. CSAs are usually focused on raising healthful food in ways that improve and sustain the health of the land and any animals they raise. It is the commitment of the consumers that make it possible for these farmers to live by their own commitments as well. The Crown S Ranch is an example of such a place.
The Crown S, in Winthrop, Washington, is run by Louis Sukovaty and Jennifer Argraves. During our visit Sukovaty showed us around. An engineer by training, he called himself a “scientific observer” rather than a “creator.” The 105-acre farm includes pastures, forests, and streams. He said there must be special attention paid to “learning the systems [from soil to cattle] on top of each other” in order to maintain a small-scale farm with a diverse population of livestock including cattle, sheep, hogs, broilers, laying hens, and turkeys. He sees grazing ecosystems as being as much a part of nature as other ecosystems, and their website says, “On organic pastures, we humanely raise cattle, pigs, sheep, and poultry without toxic drugs or chemicals. We protect and enhance the environment and maintain a balanced ecosystem by integrating traditional animal husbandry with innovative technology and utilizing natural cycles. Better for the Animal. Better for the Environment. Better for You.”
Sukovaty and Argraves use their engineering knowledge to make every aspect of this farm moveable. This enables them to take full advantage of their land and keep it as healthy as possible. For instance, the chickens spend the winter in the greenhouse so that the manure is there when it’s time to plant. The greenhouse is relocated as needed. Young chickens and the broilers are kept in an enclosure to protect them from predation, but it’s on wheels. Solar energy moves it very slowly around the pasture allowing the chickens to graze on fresh pasture (they obtain 30 percent of their dietary needs from insects, grass, and even mice!) and distributing their feces. There is no accumulation of ammonia and the feces can help build topsoil by feeding various microorganisms. When older, laying hens are left to roam freely in the pasture. They have a wagon they can go into for shelter and protection from night predators. Their pasture diet is supplemented with organic grain harvested and milled on the farm. For the laying hens, there is some loss due to predation, but Sukovaty said this is more than offset by the fact that they don’t lose chickens to illness caused by confinement. Having the chickens in the pasture also helps with the cattle. The cattle rotate among the pastures regularly—Sukovaty whistles and they follow. They mob graze eighteen to twenty-six cattle per acre. This can be done given the diversity of grass, clover, and herbs used to seed the pastures. The chickens go through the cattle’s manure and eat parasites and insects that would be a problem for the cattle. They also help spread the cattle manure, further increasing the health of the land. The pigs are in the same pastures, but enclosed in pens that Sukovaty moves around. Their wallowing area is moved annually and the old area becomes a garden—“the pigs have dug up the dirt and fertilized it already.” The chickens help break up the pig manure too. The pigs and sheep follow the cattle and, because they graze and use the land differently, this allows the pasture to recover even while it is supporting animals.
The Crown S now has a Washington State Department of Agriculture (WSDA)–certified poultry slaughter and processing center. They are very proud of the fact that the offal and wastewater from the slaughter facility is composted and used to nourish the land—one way of completing a cycle. Another is their use of passive flytraps. The cattle walk through a chute on their way to water and insects such as horn flies and face flies fly into a container where they die. They are then fed to the chickens or composted and fed back to the land as well. The idea is to work with the various parts of the ecosystem and keep things in balance. This balance is key to the Crown S, but while Sukovaty stressed the importance of his connection with the land during our visit, he was also concerned with utilizing this connection so that they could stay in business. He did not specifically mention welfare concerns or respect for the animals unless it was related to the quality of the product. Several times he proudly compared his finishing times and mortality rates to those of factory farms, to demonstrate that a more sustainable approach is possible and profitable. Further, he said, this balanced way of farming “works with nature, requires less energy, creates clean air and water, is a carbon sink, and builds topsoil.” While industrial farms damage the environment, this way of farming can improve it. In this context, the livestock sometimes seemed to be viewed mostly as economic investments. Sukovaty obviously has relationships with them, but he is very practical and honest about their fate and purpose. The cattle are numbered and not named; however, their health and well-being are a top priority. He runs the ranch as a business, taking pride in his operation’s ability to compete with the finishing time of industrial operations even though his cattle are on an all-grass diet. Their cattle average a weight gain of two to three pounds per day—“just 5 percent below the rate of gain in grain fed feedlot animals.” Similarly, he is proud of the fact that his birds’ mortality rate is much lower than that of industrial farms. Industrial farms do not let their chickens outdoors, but he believes “sunlight is a great sterilizer.” Even while he made comparisons with CAFOs, though, it was clear Crown S’s practices are more labor-intensive and they cannot produce as much meat. That means the Crown S has to charge more for their meat, but their products are so highly sought after that they routinely sell out.
Sukovaty is critical of industrial operations’ abstraction from the relationship with the land and the animals. He believes that industrial operations simplify the complex relations among various natural systems and dumb down the labor required to care for fruits, vegetables, and animals. This is done so that money can be saved on labor costs. The scale of the farming is a big part of the equation. The large industrial farms make it impossible to know the individuals or to work with the relationships among the various crops being raised. Sukovaty and Argraves enjoy the challenges this complex farm presents and have come up with many inventive ways to handle the labor involved. At the time of our visit, the Crown S paid for itself but didn’t generate enough income to expand, but now it has.
The Crown S raises an interesting question of whether it matters why people engage in environmentally responsible modes of farming and raise livestock animals in ways that respect the animals’ natures. Farmers may do this because they are primarily concerned for human well-being (an anthropocentric view) or because they see humans as just one member of the biotic community whose health is part of the health of a larger ecosystem (a biocentric view). Anthropocentrism is generally understood as a human-centeredness that gives human beings priority over other animal beings or the rest of nature. Animal rights and welfare activists and theorists, as well as environmentalists, are usually critical of anthropocentrism. It is seen as an obstacle to changing human behavior toward, and thinking about, the rest of nature—animal and nonanimal. Anthropocentrism is often connected with the view that humans have dominion over the rest of nature and so can do with it what they please. While there are interesting critiques of this understanding of dominion in books such as Matthew Scully’s Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call for Mercy, this view usually understands human beings as somehow being outside of nature and, even if dependent on nature in some ways for food and other forms of sustenance, enough in control of nature to not be affected by what might happen to nature as a result of human actions. So most animal rights and welfare theorists argue that we need to get beyond an anthropocentric outlook if we hope to change the lives of other animal beings in any meaningful way.
There are some who argue that we can’t get beyond anthropocentrism, though, since every animal sees, understands, and uses the world she or he inhabits from the point of view of that species. In fact, many animal welfare theorists make this very claim when arguing that humans need to respect how other animal beings perceive and use their environment: since humans are one species of animal among many, humans too have a human way of perceiving, understanding, and using their environment. In this way, we cannot escape anthropocentrism—at least not entirely. But the human capacities for reason and imagination do make it possible for humans to gain some insight into how others negotiate the world as well. Many argue that this capacity results in a moral obligation for humans to do their best to respect other animal beings and the natural world on which all life depends. But this may not result in any kind of obligation to abandon anthropocentrism entirely (even if we could).
One problem with most anthropocentrism is that what humans see as being in their interests does not always coincide with what might be in the interest of the environment or other animal beings. If the belief system one has is based on the idea that human interests matter most (or are the only thing that matters) this can pretty regularly result in actions that harm other beings. A quick survey of environmental literature and philosophy can serve to make this case. On the other hand, a view that puts the biotic community above all else often has the consequence of ignoring the interests of individuals—humans and otherwise. This kind of biocentric view is often related to deep ecology, promoted by philosophers such as Arne Naess, Bill Devall, George Sessions, and Holmes Rolston III.
Briefly, deep ecology makes a case for the intrinsic value of nature as opposed to the instrumental value humans find in nature when they take an anthropocentric stance. Specifically, what matters most from this perspective is the health and well-being of the whole of an ecosystem, not how it can be used by humans. Deep ecologists argue for ecological holism and say that the value of an ecosystem or species trumps the needs and interests of individuals. Ecological holism is usually to be understood, however, within the context of a biocentrism that respects all living organisms. According to Devall and Sessions, in such a view human beings are just one organism among many in an ecosystem in which “all organisms and entities in the ecosphere” are “parts of the interrelated whole, are equal in intrinsic worth” and have “inherent value . . . independent of any awareness, interest, or appreciation . . . by a conscious being” (67, 70). Deep ecologists see no bifurcation between human and nonhuman realms. Species are conceptualized as being on a continuum rather than as being on a pyramid (as in Leopold’s land ethic) in order to eschew the perception of a hierarchy with human beings at the pinnacle. Once an ecological consciousness and identification with nature have been attained, deep ecologists believe, necessary shifts in behavior will automatically follow. They tend to believe that actions in harmony with wild species and the land will be a natural outcome, and actions that harm the planet would be no more likely than for a person to cut off his or her own finger.
Naess formulated eight basic principles for deep ecology to help guide and direct the self-realization process. These principles are basically that (1) the flourishing of all life has intrinsic value that is independent of any possible human use for that life; (2) biodiversity is itself a value; (3) humans should not reduce biodiversity except to satisfy vital needs of survival; (4) the flourishing of nonhuman life would be aided by a decrease in the human population; (5) human actions interfere with the nonhuman world too much; (6) this interference is getting worse, so economic, technological, and ideological policies and practices must change; (7) we need an ideological shift that results in an appreciation of the quality of life over and above increasing one’s standard of living; and (8) humans who agree with these points have an obligation to work for change (Devall and Sessions 70). Many adherents of deep ecology also talk about learning to be more “place-specific” and building harmonious relations with the land.
In many ways this sounds very much in line with what is happening at the Crown S. The land has been in the family and they know it well. They farm in ways that respect and try to build on the biodiversity of the ecosystems on the ranch and in the surrounding area. They use technology to lessen human interference with the ecosystems. Sukovaty and Argraves, and their customers, value their quality of life as much as or more than any particular standard of living. They could make more money with less labor as engineers, and their customers could spend less of their money on the meat they buy. They and their customers are working to change the systems they see as interfering with a healthy ecosystem and good quality of life. However, it is not clear that they see the flourishing of all life as having intrinsic value that is independent of any possible human use for that life. Sukovaty and Argraves are not aspiring to be labeled deep ecologists; they obviously value their animals as useful to humans. The animals function to make the land healthier, to make the grazing ecosystem work, and to provide food for humans (and probably some dogs and cats). The livestock are treated respectfully, but this is more a consequence of their instrumental value for humans than any intrinsic value. Interestingly, though, this may not really put them at odds with most deep ecologists. Deep ecologists don’t see domesticated animals as part of the ecosystem and so don’t see them as deserving respect for their intrinsic value. In fact, unlike pragmatists, deep ecologists see domesticated animals as destructive agents and seek their removal in order to protect an ecosystem. Some examples include killing feral goats or pigs who are damaging forest or island ecosystems, eliminating cats because they kill wildlife, and removing cattle from public lands where they graze. I think this is a major limitation of deep ecology and results in a position that does not see livestock as morally considerable. This perspective also takes humans outside of nature and sees all human impact as unnatural. But, as Dewey noted, all organisms modify their environments. Any particular form of agriculture will have positive and negative impacts, but agriculture itself in not unnatural. Unlike pragmatists, deep ecologists see agriculture as interfering with the natural world and I think most deep ecologists (but not pragmatists) would question Sukovaty’s idea that his multispecies grazing rotation system is an ecosystem in the first place. Pragmatists would have to assess particular farming systems in their place and time, but deep ecologists would see all farming as a disturbance that can only be justified in order to meet some vital need.
The next question is whether meat is a vital need. Food is. Even if one doesn’t eat meat, the system at the Crown S makes the produce, hay, and grains possible (and better) through the presence of the various animal beings. The animals provide fertilizer, insect control, and soil aeration, though many also require the inputs of hay and grain. The Crown S now grows its own organic hay and grain—hay to feed the ruminants and grain for the poultry and pigs. Since this land could grow food to feed humans more directly, it is not clear that its meat would qualify as a vital need. But without animal inputs it would become increasingly difficult to grow produce without turning to industrial fertilizers, herbicides, and pesticides, so the livestock animals are an important part of produce production at the Crown S.
On this view, raising some amount of livestock is necessary to raise food in general. However, even if there is a way to raise animals for food that respects the environment and the lives of other animal beings, there is a clear need for a deeper examination of our cultural habits of eating meat and the ways in which we raise the animal beings whose bodies we consume and whose manure we use. It also seems that in order to create any change in action, an examination of the underlying beliefs of the actors is necessary. Without discussion of these framing beliefs it is easy to find oneself acting in ways that turn out to betray beliefs and commitments one holds dear. On the other hand, it is also possible for someone to change her or his beliefs about something but not change the practice related to those beliefs. Common examples of this include having the belief that smoking and junk food are not good for human health and should be eliminated from one’s lifestyle, or at least severely restricted, while at the same time continuing to indulge in smoking and eating junk food—or believing it is important to eat food that is free from antibiotics and hormones but not going to the effort to find that food. One may also believe animal welfare matters but not be willing to pay the price for meat from animals raised well. An important concern of the people trying to farm in ecologically responsible ways, or ways that respect animal welfare, is whether or not consumers share their beliefs and are willing and able to act in ways consistent with those beliefs. If the metaphysical assumptions of the consumers do not change, along with those of the farmers, there will be a lack of desire or motivation to support a change in practice. Given the difficulty of changing beliefs, and of changing practices, taking an anthropocentric approach might make sense—especially if one wants to stay in business.
The Crown S motto is “Better for the Animal. Better for the Environment. Better for You.” This motto makes room for those who have beliefs that lead them to care about the intrinsic value of the other animal beings (including livestock) and the environment generally, but it also works for those thoroughly rooted in the more dominant, anthropocentric view that humans are the center of concern. Does it matter that the primary motivations at the Crown S seem to be that humans have a right to food free from various chemicals, hormones, and diseases? Or that they believe humans have a right to know what is in their food and to see where it comes from? At least in the case of this farm, these motivations have had the secondary effect of providing the livestock animals with lives in which their natural behaviors and physical needs are respected and met. This is not always the case, though. I think human beings need to think carefully about how they understand their relationship with the rest of nature—animal and nonanimal—and remember that this includes the relationships with those parts of nature that humans tend to eat.
No matter one’s commitments, though, the discussion of Thundering Hooves and the Crown S demonstrates that it is hard to effect change in the world if one cannot financially sustain desired practices. Profit, however, is not usually the main motive for alternative meat production. The quality of life is at least equally important. Greg Newhall of the Windy N Ranch outside of Ellensburg, Washington, said, “There isn’t any reason to feel bad about what one does—the money isn’t worth it.” Newhall and his business partner, Gary Jones, made a living as developers. They bought the fourteen hundred acres as part of a development company and are building houses on some pieces of the land. The rest is to ranch, and “that is about happiness.” Newhall said it’s important to make it a home for all—his family and the families of his employees, the dogs, the livestock, and the plants in the garden. Johnson grew up in Cashmere, Washington, and so came from a rural background. Newhall fell in love with the idea of farming from his experience visiting his uncle in Montana when he was young. When we visited we met with Newhall. He said he does this work because of his love of, and for, the land. His love of the land includes an appreciation of its beauty and complexity. His love for the land is manifested in caring for it and the life it sustains. These two kinds of love are intertwined in how he farms. He especially noted the vibrant interaction with the varied cycles of life that come with the different plants and animals. He loves observing, and working with, these interactions.
At the time of our visit (in 2010) they grew hay and raised cattle, sheep, pigs, turkeys, and chickens. Their Wagyu/Angus herd is now over four hundred. Newhall and Johnson do not use artificial insemination for breeding and “try to mirror the birthing cycle of our local deer and elk. It’s better weather for the calves.” Newhall said most ranchers try to have all their calves born in February so that they are big when they are sent to the feedlot in the fall, but since they are not participating in the feedlot industry, they aim for April births. They use no growth hormones, steroids, stimulants, ionophores, or antibiotics. Once in a while a cow will get an infection from something like cheat grass and then antibiotic treatment is used for the sake of the animal, who is “removed from production.” Vaccinations are kept to a minimum because the herd is closed except when they purchase a breeding bull. They feed the cattle a mineral salt mixed with garlic and apple cider vinegar that helps with flies, ticks, and worms. Newhall said, “If you don’t work with nature, things get messy. It’s better if it’s a cooperative effort.” Windy N is committed to treating the animals as well as possible if they are going to be killed for subsistence. That includes having the mobile slaughter truck come to the farm so that the cattle don’t experience the stress of travel.
The Windy N grows alfalfa and orchard grass hay (organic since 2013). They use fish fertilizer, granulated crab and shrimp shell, and chicken manure. While the cattle are fed off their land, they have to buy feed for the pigs, chickens, turkeys, ducks, and pheasants. They are getting away from having soy in the food, but it’s hard to find soy-free food. The pigs are in a pasture, which allows them to have some “greens.” There is water so that they can make wallows to cool off and prevent sunburn. Solar panels (and some plug-in fencing) power the electric fence that forms their enclosure. The pigs are very smart, though, and know when it is off. Their personalities and intelligence make it harder to kill the pigs than it is the other animals they raise. Newhall said, “You do wonder how much they know.” “But,” he continued, “it’s part of the cycle of life.” They “harvest” them at about six months of age, when they are between 220 and 240 pounds.
Easier to kill are the turkeys and chickens. While they have some tame wild turkeys wandering freely around the barns, Newhall said, they are just “eye candy,” like the peacocks. They are safe from slaughter, he said, “and they know it.” They are called “non-eaters,” and “they are worth a few bags of feed.” The turkeys, chickens, and pheasants meant for eating are out on pasture with shelter and a night enclosure. They tried “chicken tractors” but were not happy with the confinement. Now chicks stay inside for two to four weeks and then go out on the grass. At the time of our visit they had Cornish cross (like Thundering Hooves) and freedom ranger chickens. They have since converted entirely to the freedom ranger birds as “they are a normal bird.” Newhall said the Cornish cross “just doesn’t feel right. They are a mish mash just designed to grow fast.” On the other hand, the freedom ranger website claims they “are a great alternative to fast-growing white broiler chicks or slow-growing heritage breeds.” Unlike industrial birds, “Freedom Ranger chicks grow at a moderate rate, reaching their peak weight of 5–6 lbs in 9 to 11 weeks. These active, robust chicks are suitable for free range, foraging and pasture environments and produce tender, succulent meat with more yellow omega 3 fat and less saturated fat than fast growing breeds” (“Freedom Ranger Chickens”). Newhall and Johnson raise black freedom rangers, who mature at fourteen weeks of age. They think this is a better match for their practices. Windy N has been working with WSDA for their organic and AWA certification. Since one of AWA requirements is selecting the right breed of animal to match one’s farming practices and environment, the change to freedom rangers was an important step. They also made changes in their laying hens and now use Plymouth barred rocks, black australorps, and Rhode Island reds, who produce no more than 280 eggs a year. Windy N doesn’t debeak chickens and would not keep chickens if that were necessary. When the laying hens are old Newhall and Johnson use them in stew. Newhall said, “there is no profitable market for the spent hens, but they can bring one more form of happiness to humans in their death.”
At the time of our visit Newhall wanted to achieve the AWA certification for the ranch’s chickens. They are now the first ranch to achieve the AWA certification for eight different species: meat chickens, laying hens, laying ducks, beef cattle, pigs, meat sheep, meat goats, and turkeys (“Our Heroes”). Additionally they have achieved AWA’s Grassfed certification for their sheep, goats, and beef cattle. They also achieved their organic certification in 2013 and have one of the few organic-certified facilities for butchering chicken, turkeys, and pheasants. They process up to four hundred birds at a time and close the cycle of life by putting the poultry parts in their compost.
Wildlife is an important part of what Newhall and Johnson like about this land and their lifestyle. Part of the land is left wild for deer and other wildlife and they do not allow hunting. Newhall said the wild animals know they’re safe, which means there are lots of coyotes too. They lost forty laying chickens to coyotes one year, but the addition of Anatolian/Great Pyrenees dogs brought that down to zero. Newhall said, “The cycles of life you see here, you just can’t see anywhere else.” Neither Newhall nor Johnson hunts, but they did when they were young. Newhall said most of his family are hunters, but “hunting just doesn’t feel fair—especially with long distance weapons. With domesticated animals you can give them a good life and an easy death. It feels better.” They are not completely against hunting, though, and think it can be used to keep numbers in balance. Newhall said they try to do things in a way that makes them feel good—“as good as one can feel when killing things.” In a letter following our visit Newhall wrote, “Birth, growth, life and dying on a meat producing ranch is a reflection of what we all experience in our own lives and I think it helps us see where we might fit into nature. I don’t see humans as dominating and subduing our animal charges as much as treating them fairly while exploiting their natural tendencies to our benefit.” Newhall said that humans need to eat protein and livestock are good sources of protein. He went on to say, “If we are going to consume them, though, it is our responsibility to treat them with respect and make the whole lifecycle pleasant. Ask yourself how you would want to be treated if you were an animal.” He did note that since he is eating his own meat, he eats less of it. He thought part of the reason for that is that it is dry-aged (versus commercial wet-aged) and so more flavorful and therefore he needs less of it to be satisfied.
At the time of our visit Windy N sold mutton but not lamb, though now their website features organic grass-fed lamb. Other products include organic American Kobe/Angus beef, organic pig, organic grass-fed goat, organic pastured turkey, organic pheasant, and pastured chicken. They also feature pastured chicken and duck eggs. One thing that is interesting about this list is that, except for the beef, the animals are named. It says pig instead of pork. This goes against a common practice that Carol Adams refers to as using a mass term to create an absent referent. What she means by this is that when you use a term like beef, the individual cattle are made invisible—they are absent from our thought. But they must be there, or there would be no meat. Such terms also serve to lump all the cattle together and remove any sense of individuality. She thinks terms like meat, beef, and pork are false mass terms because they hide the truth that when one eats meat, beef, or pork one is really eating individual animals. She believes we use terms like this because we are uncomfortable with the reality of eating individual animal beings—beings who had distinctive personalities, preferences, and life experiences.
Windy N is not hiding the reality and this often is another aspect of buying animal products from such ranches. They make it clear that they kill animals and often are proud of how they kill the animals, as these practices usually differ from those of the highly automated slaughterhouses used by the mainstream industry. They are also proud that they, and often their customers, can get to know the animals individually as well. One should be able and willing to know the animals they eat. Windy N encourages people to come tour the ranch. Education is part of their mission, and they provide a list of articles, books, and videos about food production in the United States.
This ranch is about a way of life, a way of eating, fair treatment for animals, and a family environment. Newhall said the Windy N was “always going to be a small, hands-on farm,” but things have grown since our visit. The land that makes up the ranch has decreased, but the number of animals has grown. They have about 450 cattle, 75 goats, 100 sheep, under 100 pigs, 500 hens, and 100 ducks for eggs. While this ranch raises a number of different species, each kind of animal is raised in its own way and in its own area. The Windy N is not an integrated operation like the Crown S. This is interesting, as several of the items on the reading list on the Windy N website are by Joel Salatin. Salatin promotes the integrated raising of multiple species of livestock and their feed much as we saw on the Crown S. He was made famous by Michael Pollan’s discussion of his Polyface farm in The Omnivore’s Dilemma and his interview featured in the movie Food, Inc. (both of which also appear on the Windy N list of resources).
In essence, Salatin’s system means the animals grow their own food as their manure fertilizes the fields in which they graze and the rotation of different species disrupts parasite cycles. He does raise animal species that require grain, and they receive locally grown non-GMO grain to supplement their grazing, browsing, and rooting. He is able to slaughter chickens on-site but has been frustrated in finding acceptable places to slaughter and process the rest of his meat animals. Salatin sees the more segmented approach of industrialized animal agriculture as an expression of a “disconnected, Greco-Roman, western egocentric, compartmentalized, reductionist, fragmented, linear thought process” (3–4). This kind of segmentation, he believes, results in problems that need not exist: “I am constantly angered at the time and energy devoted to solving problems that should never exist” (134). He thinks humans would be better off if we returned to grass-fed, pastured meat that is slaughtered and processed in decentralized, community-based slaughterhouses. Focusing on the rotation of crops and various animals, he promotes operating without hormones, antibiotics, pesticides, and chemical fertilizers. His view entails the end of CAFOs and the national tracking of animals and meat that goes with this kind of centralized system (270–98).
Unlike Greg Newhall, who allows no hunting on the Windy N, Salatin argues that killing predators is one of the responsibilities that falls to humans involved in raising livestock in a respectful and responsible way. Salatin specifically notes a tension found in the position that chickens should be raised on pastures rather than in confinement. Consumers who support pastured poultry also often argue against shooting hawks or coyotes. Similarly many who are attached to dogs and cats as pets fail to acknowledge the damage those animals do to wildlife and wilderness but object to grazing cattle or allowing pigs to root in the forest. A “forest farm” is one way humans can live with and off of nature, but we’ve protected the forest and like to think it can and should be separated from agriculture. Salatin says, “You can’t take humans out of the landscape. We are part of it, like it or not, and have been for a long, long time. This notion that humans are inherently damaging to the landscape is simply an over reaction to the damage inflicted by humans” (163). Salatin dismisses the views of those who choose to opt out of eating meat. He finds the position of those who will eat eggs and milk but not meat particularly problematic as he thinks that they don’t understand the life cycles of the animals who are involved. He finds vegans to be more consistent, he says, but according to him no one can be healthy on a vegan diet (a highly disputed claim). Nevertheless, he understands why the animal welfare movement arose: “Had farm animals never been cramped into CAFOs, the inhumane description would never have seen the light of day. . . . Industrial farmers don’t seem to have a clue that for all their platitudes about efficiency and feeding the world, they can never gain the high ground morally for a production model that despicably abuses animals” (32). Salatin does promote the importance of respecting the animals raised for food but stresses that they are not human and not persons. Ironically, his insistence on this point—his support for a hierarchy of life with humans at the top—is rooted in the same “disconnected, Greco-Roman, western egocentric, compartmentalized, reductionist, fragmented, linear thought process” (3–4) that he critiques. Nonetheless, his approach offers an alternative to industrial agriculture that many think we should follow.
If it is the case that grass-fed cattle are better for humans to eat, and that cattle raised in this way have better lives than those in CAFOs, could we simply move cattle production back to smaller-scale, grass-fed operations? If grazing cattle can be done in a way that improves the health of the land and so also improves the living conditions of various forms of wildlife, why don’t we do it? Some reasons seem to be time and cost. It takes longer to raise grass-fed cattle. The time needed could be shortened to some extent with changes in breeding practices (as Swanson noted), but this would result in less meat per animal and thus in a higher price per pound. Another reason seems to be taste. People in the United States, and increasingly across the globe, are used to the taste and texture of grain-fed beef. In fact, the Windy N website lists sources for learning how to cook with grass-fed beef, because it is different. In addition to changing how people are accustomed to cooking meat, a substantial societal switch to grass-fed beef would also require people to consume substantially less beef. Since subsequent chapters will show that there are problems and costs with raising other species of livestock—probably more problems than with cattle—this would mean people would need to consume substantially less meat overall.
Some, like Salatin and Pollan, contest this conclusion. They think we can supply as much meat as we currently do, but in a way that is better for human health, better for the health of the land, and better for wildlife. They argue that when the land that is used to grow the soy and corn that are fed to cattle is factored into what is required for feedlot cattle, grass-fed cattle end up needing less land than feedlot cattle. While it is the case that there is land that is more suitable for grazing than for other kinds of farming, not that all farmland can easily be converted to grazing. To begin with beef cattle, grazing has impacts on the land, and throughout the history of the United States much of this impact has been negative.
The history of grazing on public land is complicated and ongoing. Access to such land during the time of homesteading allowed many to amass wealth and power. Even today’s grazing permits are tied to owning specific land that comes with preference for access to public lands—a result of deals that were worked out during the “settling” of the West. The desire to settle the land, combined with a lack of understanding of the western climate, resulted in overstocking and overgrazing. As mentioned in chapter 3, the government responded to this with the 1934 Taylor Grazing Act. Grazing is now managed with leases, with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) in charge of these leases and responsible for managing the land so that it can support a variety of wildlife as well. The BLM manages 18,000 permits that allow grazing on 155 million of the 245 million acres under their management. Here is how the BLM understands their charge:
In managing livestock grazing on public rangelands, the BLM’s overall objective is to ensure the long-term health and productivity of these lands and to create multiple environmental benefits that result from healthy watersheds. The Bureau administers public land ranching in accordance with the Taylor Grazing Act of 1934, and in so doing provides livestock-based economic opportunities in rural communities while contributing to the West’s, and America’s, social fabric and identity. Together, public lands and the adjacent private ranches maintain open spaces in the fast-growing West, provide habitat for wildlife, offer a myriad of recreational opportunities for public land users, and help preserve the character of the rural West. (Gorey)
Range management is understood by most to be about protecting and enhancing the soil and maintaining and improving the “output of consumable range products” such as red meat, fiber, wood, water, and wildlife. Rangeland is seen as land that can supply humans with food and fiber by using ruminants to harvest the energy stored in the plants that grow there. Rangeland in the western states supports about 20 percent of the cattle in the United States and 50 percent of the sheep (Holechek et al. 336). These grasslands evolved with the presence of grazers like the bison in numbers equal to those of the livestock that would eventually replace them. But by the late 1800s problems with the uncontrolled grazing of livestock were observed, including decreased grazing capacity, the increase of unpalatable plants, compacted soil, decreased soil fertility and absorption capacity, loss of soil, and increased prairie dog and jackrabbit populations (47). Recommendations to limit the numbers of livestock, control brush, and rest and seed land soon followed. The debates and disagreements about recommendations continue to this day.
There was real growth in livestock after the Civil War, and the government began to try to manage the situation. Further complicating matters, horse breeding often occurred through a process wherein a purebred stallion was purchased and then turned out on the range, with the offspring being later gathered and sold (de Steiguer 133–34). Then the Panic of 1893 hit the cattle industry hard and had an impact on the demand for horses. The mechanization of farm equipment and cars soon after further depressed the market for horses (137–38). But nothing stopped the horses from breeding. The range horses, along with the sheep and cattle, put real pressure on the land, and the government acted, but these actions were often at cross-purposes. The 1862 Homestead Act gave people 160 acres of free land after five years in residence, and the 1909 Enlarged Homestead Act gave away larger tracts of land (320 acres) if some of it was cultivated (which degraded the soil as it was not suited for crops). In 1916 the Stockraising Homestead Act granted 640 acres of land if fifty cattle were raised on it. (This often exceeded the carrying capacity of the land and resulted in range damage). The 1862 Transcontinental Railroad Act increased access to the land and increased pressure to “remove” bison and American Indians. Land had already been set aside for timber and grazing with the 1891 Forest Reserves Act. By the time the 1934 Taylor Grazing Act tried to address range damage by allocating grazing privileges and the 1935 Soil Erosion Act tried to address soil erosion, much damage had been done (Holechek et al. 52).
The “solutions” of the Taylor Grazing and Soil Erosion Acts were attempts to mitigate this damage, but they were far from perfect. Grazing districts were established and divided into allotments that were licensed to livestock ranchers for ten-year periods. These were not to function as property rights but they effectively did as the rights to lease the public land were transferred with the sale of particular ranches. As stocking rates were created the range horses came to be seen as a pest to be removed. One of the first solutions was to use the horses in wars. Later, funneling the horses into the dog food industry became a way to relieve the perceived pressure the horses put on the land. De Steiguer writes, “In 1935, the United States counted some two hundred firms producing pet food from slaughtered horses, most of which were wild mustangs” (140).
This is an example of the intertwined fate of livestock and pets. The inhumane methods of rounding up, handling, and slaughtering these horses eventually resulted in moral outrage and the passage of the 1971 Wild Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act. Prior to that, however, government sharpshooters were paid to kill wild mustangs, and the U.S. Forest Service paid hunters to kill twenty-two hundred mustangs in Nevada in the 1920s. The Nevada legislature passed laws in 1897 and 1914 encouraging ranchers to “kill free-roaming horses” (146). After World War II, the settling of suburbia resulted in a rise in the number of pets and another increase in the slaughter of wild horses for pet food. In Wild Horses of the West, Edward de Steiguer writes that “in response to the increased demand for horsemeat, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) in Nevada alone had allowed the removal of some one hundred thousand wild horses from federal rangelands within a mere four years following the end of the war” (153). “Wild Horse Annie” famously publicized the cruelty of such “removals” and worked to protect the wild horses. Cattle ranchers and hunters were her main opposition as horses were seen as competing for grass with cattle and wild game. Since any grazing animal counted in the allotments permitted by the Taylor Grazing Act, the ranchers wanted no horses on “their” land (155).
Other pressures emerged with the passing of the Multiple Use Act in 1960. This required the Forest Service to manage the land for the benefit of grazing, wildlife, timber, and recreation. The Federal Lands Policy and Management Act of 1976 tried to set up guidelines for this multiple use, and the Rangeland Improvement Act of 1978 was passed in order to use a portion of the grazing fees to improve these lands. As a part of this effort the number of livestock and horses on federal lands was decreased between 1960 to 1993 (Holechek et al. 54–55). In the midst of these actions the National Environmental Policy Act passed in 1969 and the Endangered Species Act passed in 1973. These required Environmental Impact Statements for any actions that affected federal lands and protection for listed wildlife species (52). One of those competing interests was, again, the population of wild horses and burros.
In the West there is still evident tension between advocates for the range horses and those who rely on the range to graze their animals. One issue is the relative cheapness of leasing public rangeland for grazing and a history of less-than-stellar enforcement of rules and fee collections. The standoff between Cliven Bundy (who had grazed cattle without a permit and without paying fees for twenty some years) and BLM officials in Nevada in 2014 is one example. More recently in 2016 the Bundys and others participated in the occupation of the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Oregon to protest the sentencing of ranchers to five years in prison for unauthorized burning of rangeland on which they grazed cattle. Many ranchers argue that they are the best stewards of these lands, since their livelihood depends on the health of the land. Most follow rules, pay fees, and make improvements on the land that benefit wildlife as well as cattle—augmenting watering holes and improving grass. At the same time, however, most ranchers kill (or seek to eliminate) predator species. Ecosystem health depends on a number of factors, including the presence of predator species. Much of this predator control is carried out by federal employees, sparing the rancher the cost. Federal agencies also remove grazing competitors such as the wild horses and burros. Given that the cost of grazing on these lands is substantially less than buying private forage, many see this kind of access to public lands as a government subsidy for the livestock industry.
The fees charged for using these lands to graze livestock do not equal government appropriations for managing and improving these lands, so it is not the case that the grazing fees pay for other users of the land. It is not clear that these fees even cover the full costs of grazing the livestock. A study that examined the years 2002–2014 found that “the direct federal subsidy of the BLM and USFS livestock grazing programs exceeded $120 million every year for the past 12 years” (Glaser et al.). Since the fee system is constrained by the market price of the meat, it is almost assured to operate as a subsidy to ranchers rather than as a system that pays for use, reclamation, and improvement of the land. This is an important issue, and one that must be dealt with in order to create and sustain ecosystem biodiversity and health. But while these issues gain much public visibility, those who benefit from this arrangement represent less than 3 percent of the livestock industry. Grazing livestock, on public or private lands, raises environmental concerns, but there is less ability to monitor and address the damage done on private lands. There are a number of competing grazing theories: deferment systems that delay grazing until grass maturity is established, rest systems that require a retirement from use for at least a full year, and rotation systems that involve a variety of approaches to moving stock among grazing areas. Continuous grazing is also supported by many but requires lighter stocking rates than other systems (Holechek et al. 228–29). What there is agreement on is that some amount of grazing is probably better for the land than no grazing at all. After that things get less clear.
Much work has been done to identify and understand the interrelatedness of various aspects of the range ecosystems. The cycles are complicated and are impacted by variations in climate. The hope is that these lands can be managed in ways to promote more diverse and productive ecosystems. Fire and grazing are seen as important for maintaining many forest and grassland ecosystems, but this entails getting the stocking rates right to allow recovery and maintain productivity (Holechek et al. 130, 145, 190). The problem is that what might be best for a particular grassland at a particular time might not coincide with the grazing pattern that will optimize weight gain in the grazing animals. Popular now is the idea of pulse grazing, also referred to as mob grazing, controlled overgrazing, or short-duration grazing. Many of the farmers with whom we talked tried some version of this on their land. The idea is to graze cattle and sheep in ways that mimic the natural grazers with whom the grasses coevolved. In the United States, that includes bison, and it is thought that the Blackfeet Nation (who again raise bison today) moved the bison around in much the same way. On this view, there are not too many animals but too few, and these few are mismanaged (Fairlie 191–93). Nicolette Hahn Niman also promotes this idea in her book Defending Beef: The Case for Sustainable Meat Production.
Niman brings together much of the research that supports the idea that since millions of caribou, elk, deer, and bison grazed much of the U.S. territory in the past, the key to restoring and maintaining healthy ecosystems now “lies in making herds of domesticated animals function more like the wild herds of herbivores with which the ecosystems evolved” (14, 37). Since grasslands coevolved with grazing animals, healthy grasses require such grazing to remain healthy. Niman advocates mob grazing in order to stimulate “biological activity in the soil.” The cattle manure “adds fertility”; their “hooves break the soil surface and press in seed, and push down dead plant matter so it can be acted upon by soil microorganisms.” The overall effect is greater water retention and increased biodiversity (39). On this view, overgrazing is not the problem, but rather poorly managed grazing.
This is important not just for those who wish to raise cattle but also for those who want to grow crops as well. With the advent of monoculture agriculture, which relies on plows, pesticides, and fertilizer, the quality of the soil available for crop farming has deteriorated. The United States has lost 30 percent of its topsoil over the last couple of hundred years. The soil has also suffered from degraded water retention and filtration. Niman writes, “Regularly rotating cropland into pastures—especially of mixed grasses and clover—reverses much of the damage done by row crop cultivation. Thus . . . such meadows not only fed grazing animals, but were also fundamental to creating a permanent farming system that could produce food sustainably over the generations” (63). Niman argues that this would also greatly reduce (if not eliminate) the water waste and pollution that results from current agricultural practices.
The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) attributes 60 percent of river and lake pollution to agriculture—the increased presence and runoff of chemicals, nutrients, pathogens, and sediments being their main focus (69). Intensive animal agriculture is a primary culprit. In her work as an environmental lawyer Niman worked to enforce water pollution laws that CAFOs ignored. Speaking specifically about her work with the hog industry in North Carolina and Missouri she writes, “I met people who’d lived in the same home their whole lives yet could no longer sit on their front porches or hang their laundry outside due to the stenches. I saw cold, lifeless facilities with metal walls and concrete floors holding thousands of sentient creatures. And I saw, and smelled, giant festering ponds of liquefied manure behind every cluster of buildings. Manure was leaking and spilling into local streams and rivers, now choked with algae, and periodically filled with dead and diseased fish” (71). The polluted waste stream from the animal operations is only one part of the problem. Over 50 percent of U.S. grain goes to industrial animal agriculture. Raising corn and soy is energy-intensive, soil-depleting, water-hungry, and water-polluting (75).
Niman argues that sustainable agriculture requires that water and soil be protected by an increased focus on rotating grass and crop production, using cover crops to restore soil balance, and turning animals back out into the pastures. She says, “All farm animals, but especially cattle and other grazing animals, should be moved out of buildings and feedlots and reared on grass instead, on meadows, rangelands, or as part of mixed-crop rotations” (67–68). While pigs, chickens, and turkeys cannot live on grass alone it is much better if they spend “their days on grass, foraging and grazing, and are given some feeds and crop residues, along with surplus and leftover human foods. Such an approach will lead to reduced pollution from feed production, prevent antibiotic overuse, and allow animals to live healthier better lives.” Even more environmental improvements result from turning cattle back out onto grass: “Feed production—with all its attendant problems of fossil fuel consumption, soil erosion, greenhouse gases, and chemical pollution—can be avoided altogether” (79). She notes that such a shift would entail the United States raising fewer livestock animals than it does now and employing more labor in animal care and rotations (68). This would probably result in more expensive meat and dairy products.
Another benefit, however, would be increased biodiversity in the pasture and range ecosystems. First, if the land is being grazed it’s not being converted to cropland and plowed and covered in chemicals. Second, many studies have found that grasslands that are not grazed have less plant diversity and more nonnative grasses than grazed land (96). Third, grazed land provides better habitat for many birds and butterflies as well as for foxes and bears. Very importantly, it provides valuable space for pollinators such as bees. This, in turn, is important for the future production of many crops. Niman’s point is that if it is done well, grazing cattle is good for the land, the climate, and biodiversity. However, using lands in a way that is compatible with the increased biodiversity of wildlife means predation of livestock will be a reality. Wolves, coyotes, bears, and big cats are all potential predators. If, as Leopold suggests, such predators are important for the maintenance of healthy ecosystems, then ranchers will need to find ways to coexist. Several of the farms we visited used guard dogs and llamas to protect their sheep and goats. Many raising cattle focused on breeding cattle who are capable of protecting their own young. If there is a serious commitment to the flourishing of wildlife, then in addition to a changed mindset about predators, there will also need to be a re-visioning of what is now seen as competition from animals such as wild horses, elk, deer, and moose.
Interestingly, there is no room for the ideas Niman presents in a deep ecology framework, even though the approach she describes could do much to achieve some of the goals of deep ecology. The focus on ecosystems and understanding the systems as a whole would work for deep ecologists, as would the promotion of species diversity. The inclusion of livestock animals, though, has no place in deep ecology except as an unnatural disturbance. I believe this is rooted in an untenable metaphysical view that sees humans as being outside of nature, even as deep ecology calls on humans to see themselves as part of nature. Bringing pragmatism into the conversation is an important corrective as pragmatism more fully integrates humans, and the modifications to the environment that humans make, into the rest of nature. That doesn’t mean all human impacts are good or unproblematic. But rather than try to avoid problems by pulling humans out of nature, pragmatism requires that humans wrestle with the long and complex history of human agriculture and face the moral questions that accompany living with livestock.