From the "HUMANE CONNECTION" blog:
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Subjective Compassion: Why Do We Cheer for "Brave" Animals & Exploit the Rest?
I came across a great blog post recently by JoAnne McArthur on subjective compassion. She's the creator of the We Animals project, which "documents animals in the human environment" in order to break down the barriers humans have raised against nonhuman animals, allowing us to treat them as objects, rather than as beings deserving respect and equal consideration.In the post, McArthur uses a fairly recent incident of the escape of one lone bull to illustrate the strange compassion disconnect many of us humans have with animals. Jay the bull escaped a horrific fate when the truck he and 34 other cows were in (on their way to the slaughterhouse) crashed and caught fire. Jay was horribly burned (many of the other cows were burned alive; the "survivors" were captured and sent on to the slaughterhouse), but he managed to elude authorities until he was caught and taken to an animal shelter. He was lucky. And he was saved in part because many people spoke out on his behalf (presumably impressed with his courage and tenacity). But what about the billions of other animals we in the U.S. eat for food each year? Or those whose skins we wear? Or those we use for experiments or entertainment or deem pests? Why was Jay, and others like him, so lucky?
Part of it has to do with our inability to empathize with large numbers of others. As I've written about before, we connect with the one, not the many. But McArthur poses other potential motivations for our skewed justifications of whom we value and whom we don't:
"We should question our compassion for these animals. Or rather, we should question why our empathy begins and ends with those who have executed a dramatic escape. Aren't the more meek and fearful as equally deserving of their own lives? Why aren't those who have no opportunity for escape equally deserving of our pardon? What is it that we prize in these animals, really? Do we show these animals compassion because it gives us an outlet for the deep grieving we harbour for the harm we cause others but are afraid to admit? Does it makes us feel kinder than our consumer choices show us to be? Is it that we simply love a good story of courage, adventure and escape in which we can play a part by speaking up for the individual involved? Or is it that we understand that animals are sentient beings who can feel fear ( something with which we empathize ) and when they show us this emotion, our compassionate selves can't help but cry out in response to their needs? It seems we are compassionate towards other non-human beings who exhibit characteristics such as bravery simply because it is a characteristic we value in ourselves. It's a narrow, and typically human way of looking at things; valuing something or someone because it resembles us for a moment."
Read the complete post.
~ Marsha
December 10th, 2010
Subjective Compassion
192 - There's been a rash of accidents involving slaughterhouse-bound trucks this year. In my own city of Toronto, a speeding truck overturned, killing 81 pigs and later, 7 more were euthanized. The "survivors" were detained until they could be assessed to see if they were still fit for slaughter.
A few months ago on an Indiana interstate a truck carrying 34 cows crashed and was set ablaze. Of the 34, 18 cows were burned alive. Others escaped the wreckage but wandered the area in various states of injury, some of them still on fire. Despite serious injury, a 2-year old Holstein bull, later christened Jay, made a run for it. He was the only bull to survive. Those who were injured but not dead were corralled onto another truck and sent to slaughter.
Jay was on the run for 12 hours before he was caught and brought to an animal shelter. As is often the case in these situations of escape, people were deeply impressed by his courage and from that came an outcry for his death row pardon. He was not slaughtered but instead brought to Farm Sanctuary ( www.farmsanctuary.org )
Before he arrived at his new sanctuary home, though, he spent a month at the Cornell University animal hospital where he was kept on antibiotics and pain medication. As days turned into weeks, his burnt skin sloughed off to reveal deeper burns, some through the muscle. Three months after his arrival at the Farm, Jay continues to recover. As you can see in the photo ( taken Nov2010 ), his injuries still weep blood and his skin and fur continue the slow growth back to normal.
I hate to call Jay "one of the lucky few", considering his short life in a factory farm, his stressful transport to slaughter and then the crash and being severly burned. Though he was to be among the billions of animals killed for food every year, his fate was deviated that day and he felt the touch of human compassion. Because of this compassion, he has a life among other bovine friends with whom he spends time every day. He has soft straw to sleep on every night. He doesn't live under the threat of death so that we can eat him and wear him. He is given space. His life is recognized as valuable beyond human need.
We often read of or hear these stories of escape. Animals who flee the truck, the slaughterhouse, the factory farm or the live markets if given the chance. Humans love these stories; the animals are seen as courageous and deserving of the freedom they so bravely risked their life for. We are outraged at the idea that this individual would still be killed or put back into the food system for our use. We rejoice to hear that the animal will be given amnesty and sent to a sanctuary instead of their original destination: our plates.
We should question our compassion for these animals. Or rather, we should question why our empathy begins and ends with those who have executed a dramatic escape. Aren't the more meek and fearful as equally deserving of their own lives? Why aren't those who have no opportunity for escape equally deserving of our pardon? What is it that we prize in these animals, really? Do we show these animals compassion because it gives us an outlet for the deep grieving we harbour for the harm we cause others but are afraid to admit? Does it makes us feel kinder than our consumer choices show us to be? Is it that we simply love a good story of courage, adventure and escape in which we can play a part by speaking up for the individual involved? Or is it that we understand that animals are sentient beings who can feel fear ( something with which we empathize ) and when they show us this emotion, our compassionate selves can't help but cry out in response to their needs? It seems we are compassionate towards other non-human beings who exhibit characteristics such as bravery simply because it is a characteristic we value in ourselves. It's a narrow, and typically human way of looking at things; valuing something or someone because it resembles us for a moment.
Those who know Jay have learned that he is playful, kind, gentle, forgiving and loves to run and buck and kiss the other cows. What of the others, though, who don't have the opportunity to be known as an individual but who might share the same characteristics that other animals and humans value in a living being? Though their personalities are unknown to us, do they not also deserve a chance to live their lives?
Subjective Compassion
 click to enlarge |
A few months ago on an Indiana interstate a truck carrying 34 cows crashed and was set ablaze. Of the 34, 18 cows were burned alive. Others escaped the wreckage but wandered the area in various states of injury, some of them still on fire. Despite serious injury, a 2-year old Holstein bull, later christened Jay, made a run for it. He was the only bull to survive. Those who were injured but not dead were corralled onto another truck and sent to slaughter.
Jay was on the run for 12 hours before he was caught and brought to an animal shelter. As is often the case in these situations of escape, people were deeply impressed by his courage and from that came an outcry for his death row pardon. He was not slaughtered but instead brought to Farm Sanctuary ( www.farmsanctuary.org )
Before he arrived at his new sanctuary home, though, he spent a month at the Cornell University animal hospital where he was kept on antibiotics and pain medication. As days turned into weeks, his burnt skin sloughed off to reveal deeper burns, some through the muscle. Three months after his arrival at the Farm, Jay continues to recover. As you can see in the photo ( taken Nov2010 ), his injuries still weep blood and his skin and fur continue the slow growth back to normal.
I hate to call Jay "one of the lucky few", considering his short life in a factory farm, his stressful transport to slaughter and then the crash and being severly burned. Though he was to be among the billions of animals killed for food every year, his fate was deviated that day and he felt the touch of human compassion. Because of this compassion, he has a life among other bovine friends with whom he spends time every day. He has soft straw to sleep on every night. He doesn't live under the threat of death so that we can eat him and wear him. He is given space. His life is recognized as valuable beyond human need.
We often read of or hear these stories of escape. Animals who flee the truck, the slaughterhouse, the factory farm or the live markets if given the chance. Humans love these stories; the animals are seen as courageous and deserving of the freedom they so bravely risked their life for. We are outraged at the idea that this individual would still be killed or put back into the food system for our use. We rejoice to hear that the animal will be given amnesty and sent to a sanctuary instead of their original destination: our plates.
We should question our compassion for these animals. Or rather, we should question why our empathy begins and ends with those who have executed a dramatic escape. Aren't the more meek and fearful as equally deserving of their own lives? Why aren't those who have no opportunity for escape equally deserving of our pardon? What is it that we prize in these animals, really? Do we show these animals compassion because it gives us an outlet for the deep grieving we harbour for the harm we cause others but are afraid to admit? Does it makes us feel kinder than our consumer choices show us to be? Is it that we simply love a good story of courage, adventure and escape in which we can play a part by speaking up for the individual involved? Or is it that we understand that animals are sentient beings who can feel fear ( something with which we empathize ) and when they show us this emotion, our compassionate selves can't help but cry out in response to their needs? It seems we are compassionate towards other non-human beings who exhibit characteristics such as bravery simply because it is a characteristic we value in ourselves. It's a narrow, and typically human way of looking at things; valuing something or someone because it resembles us for a moment.
Those who know Jay have learned that he is playful, kind, gentle, forgiving and loves to run and buck and kiss the other cows. What of the others, though, who don't have the opportunity to be known as an individual but who might share the same characteristics that other animals and humans value in a living being? Though their personalities are unknown to us, do they not also deserve a chance to live their lives?
No comments:
Post a Comment