Heidi The Reader's Reviews > Some We Love, Some We Hate, Some We Eat: Why It's So Hard to Think Straight About Animals

Another one that I wouldn't have picked up without the encouragement of my book club. I knew most of the horrifying ways that people mistreat animals and this book doesn't offer any real solutions, so it was hugely depressing.

The author stated my position fairly well at the start of the book: "Like most people, I am conflicted about our ethical obligations to animals. The philosopher Strachan Donnelley calls this murky ethical territory "the troubled middle." Those of us in the troubled middle live in a complex moral universe. I eat meat- but not as much as I used to, and not veal. I oppose testing the toxicity of oven cleaner and eye shadow on animals, but I would sacrifice a lot of mice to find a cure for cancer. And while I find some of the logic of animal liberation philosophers convincing, I also believe that our vastly greater capacity for symbolic language, culture, and ethical judgment puts humans on a different moral plane from that of other animals." pg 11

I learned about the animal protection policies of the Nazis which made their actions towards Jewish people even more disturbing: "A bizarre moral inversion occurred in prewar Germany that enabled large numbers of reasonable people to be more concerned with the suffering of lobsters in Berlin restaurants than with genocide. In 1933, the German government enacted the world's most comprehensive animal protection legislation." pg 59

The horrors of animal hoarding: "A recent study on the public health implications of animal hoarding, reported that nearly all hoarders who have over 100 animals in their homes were women. The living conditions of these extreme hoarders ranged from lousy to horrifying. Things were particularly bad among those living alone. Over half of their houses lacked stoves, hot running water, or working sinks and toilets. Forty percent of the homes had no heat and 80% did not contain a functional shower or refrigerator. The conditions of the animals living in these circumstances are dire- cats, dogs, pot-bellied pigs, rabbits, all emaciated and ridden with disease, all running amok. First responders called in to clean up hoarding situations often encounter half-eaten animals corpses lying about." pg 139 Geez louise, people.

The romanticization of cockfighting: "But by far the most important trait, the one that gets breeders misty-eyed, is what they call true grit, or more commonly, gameness. I ask(ed) Johnny, a third-generation cocker, to tell me how I could explain gameness to my animal rights pals. "Gameness," he said, "is their heart. Their desire to fight to the death. Your bardyard rooster is cowardly.... Gameness is the drive to beat the opponent. It is so instilled in the true game rooster that he is going to give everything he has, to his last breath." pg 155-156 Think what Johnny could accomplish if he turned his passionate nature towards something that makes a difference in society. That whole chapter, In the Eyes of the Beholder, ranked right up there with the chapter on mice in animal testing (The Moral Status of Mice) as the hardest to get through. It's just heartbreaking.

The author's love of meat, which he managed to convey rather poetically: "I had never tasted pork belly, but I remembered that the local country music station used to announce their going price during the noon farm and home show. The piece of pork belly on the plate in front of me was a no-frills chunk of braised fat. One bite and my ideas about meat changed. I once stood for ten minutes in a museum staring at a painting by Mark Rothko, trying to figure out why anyone would think that an all-black canvas was art, but then something clicked and I suddenly got it. I had the same response to the taste of that pork belly. The Rothko and the pork belly had the same Platonic purity. One was distilled blackness, the other the essence of meat." pg 177

At every meal that includes meat now, that Mon Mothma line from Star Wars runs through my mind: Many Bothans died to bring us this information. Except, that inner trouble maker in my head changes it to: "Many chickens (turkeys, pigs, cows) died to bring us this food (lunch, dinner, snack, whatever)." And she nails Mon Mothma's sad delivery, every time. I wonder if the cognitive dissonance I'm experiencing will ever reach the point where I stop eating meat entirely. I suppose we'll see. Anyway, I have plenty to talk about at the club meeting tonight.