An Appeal to Reason and Human Kindness
In the spring of 2014, I had the opportunity to meet with Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson, the president of Iceland, on the occasion of the Spirit of Humanity forum. He told me that there had not been a single soldier on the island since the closing of the American base in 2006. He also said that the annual death rate due to firearms was only 0.6 per 100,000 inhabitants. Iceland, he told us, is “a country where people trust each other and where you are welcome.” And in truth, there was no security control at the entrance to the presidential residence, which you enter just as though it were an ordinary house. There is a lesson here for those who advocate the unregulated sale of firearms and who insist in no uncertain terms, as do many in the United States, that the more the population is armed, the more the conditions of security will prevail.1
In exchanging a few words with the president, I went so far as to say that Iceland surely set a good example for the rest of the world, but that the image of a haven of peace presented by the island would certainly be improved if the Icelanders gave up killing hundreds of whales every year. And it is indeed a curious paradox: On the plane that took me to Iceland I watched a documentary that presented Iceland as one of the best places in the world for whale watching, a place that encourages ecological tourism. At the same time, not far from one of the whale-watching zones, the employees of the Hvalur whaling company each summer carry out a large-scale massacre of these same whales.2 The president made a polite remark, averted his eyes, and turned to talk another guest.
A week later, I was in Chile, where I visited Francisco Varela School, a school named in honor of a great Chilean neuroscientist, a late lamented friend of mine, who founded the Mind and Life Institute, of which I am a member. After touring the classes, I spoke to the three hundred pupils of the school, gathered in a large hall. One of them asked me, “Do you eat meat?” After having told him no, I asked the pupils:
“Yes!”
“Are fish your friends?”
“Yes!”
“Are birds your friends?”
“Yes!”
They all demonstrated the same enthusiasm. Then I asked them: “Do you want to eat your friends?”
The answer was a resounding “no” in unison. For the pupils of this institution, which is supposed to be a progressive school, respect for animal life should be taken for granted. However, most of the pupils were not vegetarians, especially because Chile, being a neighbor of Argentina, is one of the countries in the world where meat figures most prominently in the diet.
These two anecdotes demonstrate the inconsistency that exists between our thoughts and deeper feelings, on the one hand, and our behavior on the other. Most of us are fond of animals, but our compassion stops at the edge of our plate. And our egoistic conduct without a doubt backfires on us: as we have seen, industrial mass breeding is one of the major causes of climate change, and regular consumption of meat is harmful to human health. This activity of ours is not only morally debatable, it unreasonable from any point of view.
This unreasonable approach is based on a lack of respect for other life forms, a lack of respect resulting from ignorance, pride, egoism, or ideology. As far as animals are concerned, a lack of respect caused by ignorance consists, in particular, in not recognizing that they feel emotions and are sensitive to pain. It is also a matter of ignoring the continuum that binds all species of animals into one whole. When, as is now the case, there is adequate scientific data on hand to substantiate this, then it becomes a denial of reality if we choose to ignore it.
Lack of respect resulting from pride is imagining that our superiority in certain areas gives us the right of life and death over animals. Lack of respect based on egoism consists in using animals as though they were mere instruments for satisfying our desires or for promoting our financial interests. Finally, lack of respect through ideology is justifying our instrumentalization of animals on the basis of religious dogmas, philosophical theories, or cultural traditions.
Our attitude toward animals calls into question our entire ethical outlook and is evidence of how fragile it is. This ethical outlook of ours is what governs how we behave toward each other. That is why it is essential for us to accord animals an intrinsic value, to have consideration for them and to take account of their legitimate aspirations. If we exclude all nonhuman beings from our ethical system, that system becomes shaky. This is what Milan Kundera clearly tells us: “Mankind’s true moral test, its fundamental test (which lies deeply buried from view), consists of its attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals. And in this respect mankind has suffered a fundamental debacle, a debacle so fundamental that all others stem from it.”3
As we pointed out in the introduction, we are not at all speaking here about animalizing humans or humanizing animals, but instead about showing respect to both and according to each its own proper value, whatever that may be. It seems that, if we were merely to reach out and extend to animals the golden rule that we usually reserve for humans—do not do to others what you would not have them do to you4—both humans and animals would benefit. It is clear, however, that being concerned with the fate of animals does not in the least diminish the need to be concerned with the destiny of humans—quite the contrary: both of these concerns are derived from a sense of altruism and are not, with the exception of a few cases, in direct competition with each other.
So we can do a lot better than we have been doing. Real altruism and compassion should know no bounds. They are not merely tit-fortat paybacks carried out under the heading of good behavior or because of an idea we have about wanting to value other beings. Compassion relates to all suffering and is directed toward all who suffer. Someone who is moved by genuine compassion is not capable of inflicting suffering on other sentient beings, as Schopenhauer points out in his On the Basis of Morality: “Boundless compassion for all living beings is the surest and most certain guarantee of pure moral conduct, and needs no casuistry. Whoever is filled with it will assuredly injure no one, do harm to no one, encroach on no man’s rights; he will rather have regard for every one, forgive every one, help every one as far as he can, and all his actions will bear the stamp of justice and loving-kindness.”5
However, to the extent that there remains a significant number of us who do not feel enough compassion toward animals to give up mistreating them, it is essential for there to be recourse to the legal system, to put in place laws that protect animals. The right to live and not suffer cannot be the exclusive privilege of human beings. When humans attempt to justify their exploitation of animals, all they do is try to perpetuate the law of “might makes right,” a right which is morally contestable. As Bertrand Russell put it, “There is no objective reason to believe that the interests of human beings are more important than those of animals. We could destroy animals more easily than they could destroy us: that is the sole firm basis for our claim of superiority.”6
The enemies of animal advocates take malicious pleasure in presenting them as utopian idealists, animal idolaters who would do better to concern themselves with the innumerable sufferings of humans, as overly sensitive souls who never stop feeling sorry for their cats and dogs, even as fanatics, as stupid as they are dangerous, who do not shrink from flirting with terrorism.7
Omnivores do their best to make vegans and vegetarians look ridiculous, especially those who have adopted their diets for moral reasons (they are not subjected to reproach if they do it on their doctor’s orders). Two English sociologists made a study of how the British media portrays vegans: 5 percent of media portrayed them positively, 20 percent were neutral, and 75 percent were negative. According to the two sociologists, this negative portrayal “makes it possible to reassure omnivore readers concerning the normality of their ethical choice, and by association, the normality of their personality in contrast to the abnormality of the vegans.”8 This point is confirmed by a U.S. study according to which nearly half of omnivores associated vegetarians with a variety of negative terms: crazy, weird, uptight, strict, opinionated, radical, preachy, self-righteous.9 The study suggests that this negative approach is explained in large part by “the threat of an anticipated moral reproach” coming from the vegetarians. According to Martin Gibert, “The ‘vegephobic’ is not afraid of vegetarianism—he is afraid of being judged. If he holds a grudge against vegetarians, it is because they represent a stinging reminder to him of his own cognitive inconsistencies. Without so much as opening his mouth, the vegetarian forces the omnivore to admit that eating animals is a choice.”10
Most of us would find it revolting to have to slit the throat of an animal every day with our own hands, but we are ready to condone the killing of animals, the abusive treatment they are subject to, as well as the ecological disaster caused by industrial breeding and fishing just because “everybody does it.” Renan Larue points out:
The unanimity of violence somehow reduces the sense of individual responsibility. It helps us to avoid thinking about it too much. The mere presence of a vegetarian tends to disrupt this tacit, unconscious consensus. . . . Up to that point it was neither good nor evil to eat meat—meat-eating stood outside the sphere of morality. But in the presence of a vegetarian or vegan, the carnivore is forced to see that an alternative exists and that thenceforth he can choose between killing or sparing animals, between destroying or preserving nature.11
In the face of such prejudices, how is it possible to adopt a realistic attitude that has some chance of changing things? This is what James Serpell, a professor of animal ethics, thinks about the matter:
It would also, in my view, be unrealistic to imagine that we can hope to achieve global vegetarianism, or a complete end to the economic utilization of animals or the natural environment. Paradise, in this sense, cannot be regained because it never really existed. Nevertheless, it is clear that we cannot go on treating the world and its contents like some gigantic supermarket. Economic, political, or religious ideologies that promote unrestrained exploitation are dangerous. They threaten our survival not only by the irreparable damage they cause, but also by denying, suppressing or corrupting feelings and morality. Fortunately, and thanks largely to our past excesses, ethical arguments based on the principles of empathy and altruism, and economic objectives based on long-term human interests, are, at long last, beginning to converge. We can but hope that out of this union a sane and responsible compromise will emerge.12
How have major changes in attitude come about in society, even when those changes at first appeared improbable and unrealistic? How has it happened that things that were completely taken for granted came to be seen as unacceptable? The way it works is that, right at the beginning, a few individuals become aware of a particular situation that is morally indefensible. They come to the conclusion that the status quo cannot be maintained without compromising the ethical values that they respect. At first isolated and ignored, these pioneers end up pooling their efforts and becoming activists who upset habitual outlooks and bring about a revolution in ideas. At that point they tend to be mocked and reviled. But little by little, other people who were shy at first come to believe that the pioneers are right in what they are doing, and they begin to sympathize with their cause. When the number of those in favor of the new approach reaches a critical mass, public opinion begins to swing in their direction. Gandhi summarized this process as follows: “At first they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, and then you win.” Let us think of the abolition of slavery, of the defense of human rights, of female sufferage, and any number of other breakthroughs.
There are several factors that can facilitate such changes and contribute to cultural evolution. The first of these is the power of ideas. Satyagraha, the principle of nonviolent resistance put forward by Gandhi, means “the power of truth” or “insistence on the truth.” The second factor is the imitative instinct. The fact is, most human beings are inclined to conform to dominant attitudes, customs, beliefs, and values. Conformity to moral norms is encouraged by the community, and nonconformity draws disapproval. The third is the embarrassment and the feeling of shame that we feel when we persist in defending a moral position that is disavowed by the majority of society. Cultures evolve. In the course of generations, individuals and cultures never cease to influence each other. Individuals who grow up in a new social environment become different just by acquiring new habit patterns that transform their way of being. They then contribute in their turn to the further evolution of their society, and so it goes on.
The abolition of slavery in England is a striking example of this type of turnaround. As the historian and writer Adam Hochschild tells us: “If, early in that year [1787], you had stood on a London street corner and insisted that slavery was morally wrong and should be stopped, nine out of ten listeners would have laughed you off as a crackpot. The tenth might have agreed with you in principle, but assured you that ending slavery was wildly impractical. . . . It was a country in which the great majority of people, from farmhands to bishops, accepted slavery as completely normal.”13 Important economic interests were also in play. However, a minority of abolitionists succeeded in just a few years in winning over to the abolition of slavery a public opinion that had at first been indifferent or often hostile to that idea.
According to Olivier Grenouilleau, author of a number of works on slavery,14 four principal elements define this practice: (1) the slave is “other”; (2) the slave is a human being possessed by another; (3) the slave is always “useful” to his master; and (4) the slave is a human being whose own life has been suspended. Replace the word “human” with the phrase “mass-bred animal” and it is not difficult to see the comparison—no offense to human beings intended. The fact is, the animals we instrumentalize for their labor, their flesh, their skin, their bones, and other parts of their bodies belong to another species; they are “other.” They are also kept by an owner (the owner today being nothing but an industrial system with multiple anonymous faces); they must remain “useful,” or they are “reformed” (the euphemism for slaughter); and their own life has been suspended, not with the hope of possible liberation but just until a premature and programmed death.
According to the philosopher of science Thomas Lepeltier, the first task of the abolitionists was to make the British people aware of what lay behind the sugar they were eating, the tobacco they smoked, and the coffee they drank. Ultimately, however, before the general population came to the point of actively opposing slavery, they had to begin to see that this system was a taint on the image they had of themselves. It was not until the moment they recognized that they were implicitly complicit in a system that they saw as shameful that the British people actually opposed it.
Today, at least in the West, not only slavery but also racism, sexism, and homophobia—even though they remain endemic in our societies—are theoretically disapproved by the majority of people. Soon the same could happen, let us hope, to our attitude toward animals. “The idea that it is odious,” writes Lepeltier in La révolution végétarienne (The Vegetarian Revolution), “to see in a sow not a person but a mere mass of pâté has not yet infiltrated all minds, and it has still less begun to influence the eating behavior of the majority of the population. Many people still have difficulty making the connection ‘between the nearby and the far away,’ that is, between the pleasures of the table and the suffering of the animal, even if, in principle, no one or nearly no one any longer accepts the idea that we ought to make animals suffer for the sake of our culinary pleasures alone. So there is still a way to go before we reach the moment of abolishing the slaughterhouses.”
We are all in favor of morality, justice, and kindness. Therefore, there is not one of us who could not tread the path that leads to greater ethical consistency and put an end to the psychological acrobatics and contortions that we put ourselves through constantly in an attempt to reconcile our moral principles with our behavior. It is entirely up to us, as the words of philosopher Martin Gibert make clear: “I like meat. . . . I also like the feel of leather and fur. Nevertheless, I no longer put animal products on my plate or on my shoulders. I no longer condone animal suffering. I am a vegan. It’s not that I particularly like animals. . . .
I’m a normal type in my relationship to animals. But I am also sensitive to moral arguments. And today these arguments—with regard to animal and environmental ethics—have become too serious for me to set aside veganism with a shrug of the shoulders and a wave of the hand. . . . Veganism is not a dietary program. . . . It is a movement of resistance to the oppression of which the animals we exploit for their meat, their milk, or their fur are the victims. . . . The basic argument is simple. If it is possible to live without inflicting unnecessary suffering on animals, then that’s what we ought to do.”15
According to a study conducted in Australia, the reasons given for continuing to eat meat, in spite of all the arguments, are eating pleasure (78 percent—“I like it, period!”), reluctance to change habitual patterns (58 percent), the idea that humans were made to eat meat (44 percent), the fact that one’s family eats it (43 percent), and a lack of information on vegetarian and vegan diets (42 percent).16
Excepting populations that cannot survive except through hunting and fishing, it seems to me impossible to put forward a valid reason—based on morality, justice, and kindness or on necessity as opposed to appetite, habit, dogma, ideology, conformism, profit, or lack of information—that justifies eating, clothing oneself with, or seeking entertainment at the price of the suffering and death of other sentient beings.
It is clear that the way we eat and our use of products derived through animal suffering go against the values that are upheld by a society that never ceases to boast of the progress it has made in the realm of human rights, women’s rights, the rights of children, and the rights of minorities and the oppressed. How can we see ourselves as manifesting equality, fraternity, and liberty when we subject, exploit, imprison, and massacre our neighbor, whether this neighbor is a person of a different skin color, walks on four legs, is covered with hair, has to live in the water, or has other characteristics we do not have?
Clearly it is time to extend the notion of “neighbor” to other life forms. If we were to understand and feel thoroughly and fully that in truth we and animals are fellow citizens of the world, rather than seeing animals as some subcategory of living beings, we could no longer permit ourselves to treat them as we do. At the dawn of the twentieth century, Émile Zola was already writing: “Could we not begin by coming to an agreement on the love we owe to animals? . . . And that simply in the name of suffering, to kill suffering, the abominable suffering by which nature lives and which humanity should exert itself to reduce as much as possible by means of a continuous struggle, the only struggle in which it would be wise to remain obstinate?”17
But certainly there is good news as well. For the past three decades, mobilization in favor of animals has not ceased to increase. This is not the work of a few fanatical “animalists,” but the work of sensible people whose empathy and compassion have turned toward animals. It is becoming more and more difficult to pretend to be ignorant of the relationship between the sufferings of the calf and the cutlet on the table. Sympathy for the protection of animals is continuously growing in public opinion.
The number of vegetarians in the world (half a billion today) also continues to grow, especially among young people. At the present time in France there are as many vegetarians (between 1 and 2 million) as there are hunters (around 1.2 million), and the number of the latter on a global scale diminishes each year. The percentage of hunters in the French population has gone from 4.5 percent to 1.5 percent from 1970 to 2014.18 This percentage is diminishing especially among the young. The same thing is happening in the United States, where the number of households containing a hunter has gone from 32 percent to 19 percent between 1977 and 2006.19
In April of 2014, an amendment to the French civil code was passed that recognized animals as sentient beings, and in this way this recognition was extended to the entire French legal system. The logical march of history seems to favor progressive discrediting of the mass killing of animals. One day, let us hope, an international convention prohibiting zoocide will be promulgated and the vision of H. G. Wells will become a reality: “No meat on the round planet of Utopia. There was a time when there was. But today we no longer tolerate the idea of a slaughterhouse. . . . I still remember my joy when I was a child at the closing of the last slaughterhouse.”20
A growing number of us no longer are content with a conservative ethic regarding the behavior of humans toward their fellow beings. Many of us now feel that benevolence toward all beings is no longer an optional addendum to our ethics but an essential part of it. It is incumbent upon us to continue to promote the achievement of impartial justice and compassion toward all sentient beings.21 Kindness is not an obligation, it is the most noble expression of human nature.
Thegchog Chöling
Paro, Bhutan
May 21, 2014