When Congress lifted a ban on slaughtering horses in the U.S. last week even PETA kept quiet. Here's one possible explanation.
Early last week Congress voted to lift the ban on horse slaughter in the United States. The act has surely sent legions of horse lovers into deep depression. But the message I'm hearing from many advocates in the animal welfare world is that this decision will benefit domestic horses.
As it turns out, the most common destination for U.S. horses deemed ready for slaughter was Mexico, where slaughterhouse regulation is weak. Horses killed in the United States, I'm told, will assuredly be better off than if they'd been killed in Mexico. The People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), partially in deference to this logic, agrees. And as the matter is now framed, so do I.
But what I find especially disturbing is the frame. As a culture that's becoming increasingly serious about the ethics of eating, why are we more concerned with discussing where an animal should be slaughtered than whether it should be slaughtered at all? Such an ethical bypass is a stark reminder of how impoverished our thinking about the place of animals in our diet remains. The goal of this essay is thus not so much to elaborate on Congress' decision per se, but to expand the framework in which it was made and, in turn, see how the picture changes.
We can empathize with having a tube shoved into our throats, but we cannot even remotely empathize with being shunted off to a slaughterhouse.
To do so, we might consider ducks. A significant number of ethically concerned consumers deem foie gras nothing short of a diabolical slice of suffering. Famous chefs have sworn off the stuff, and I wish I had a dime for every omnivore I know who opposes foie gras on ethical grounds. This opinion prevails despite humanity's remote relationship with the duck -- we've never worked or lived closely with these creatures, nor do we care for them as companion animals. Nonetheless, we're somehow vehement about protecting one of their internal organs.
This position stands in obvious contrast to the collective yawn we just let out upon hearing the big news that the domestically-slaughtered horse -- an animal with whom we've plowed fields, colonized continents, waged war, rode to victory, and (with thankful rarity) buggered --may be coming to a meat counter near you.
So, the question: Why do so many people consider duck liver bad but horse meat OK? The most common response to this disparity will likely be that it's the the way an animal is raised that matters when it comes to the ethical consumption of animal products. Ducks suffer when tubes are shoved down their throats to swell their livers, but horses can lead a good life and die peacefully in an abattoir. This argument is flawed.
The duck/horse dichotomy ultimately centers on the matter of empathy. Most opponents of foie gras come to their position after hearing about or seeing videos of ducks being force-fed mush through a tube jammed down their gullets. Even if it's true that ducks lack a gag reflex, these images disgust us. They disgust us, I would contend, for the basic reason that humans can imagine what it's like to have something shoved down throats. Every one of us has choked on something in our lives and we know that it's a crappy feeling. Can you imagine your whole life choking on a tube? We can, and it's for this very reason that we empathize with ducks raised for foie gras and, no matter how distant our shared past, declare the process abhorrently inhumane.