The myth of happy meat

http://theseglasswalls.wordpress.com/2012/01/29/the-myth-of-happy-meat/

“I make sure my eggs are organic and free-range.” “I only buy organic dairy.” “Yeah, I still eat meat, but I only eat happy meat.” Sound like you? I used to sound like that, too. There’s a lot behind statements like these, not least of which is concern for the animals involved. Generally speaking, the people who say things like this are aware of factory farming and have some idea of what goes on. They might be fuzzy on the details, especially the more horrific ones, but they know about the intensive confinement practices, the hormones and drugs in the animals’ feed, and they’re not comfortable with it. They want to know that the eggs they’re eating come from a chicken who’s allowed to run around and be a regular chicken, and that whatever meat they’re eating had a nice life while it was here.

I have a friend whose sister has a small herd of cows she raises for beef. She loves her cows. They have names. They graze in the pasture, they have nice stalls in a heated barn. Their stalls are mucked out every day, soiled straw replaced with fresh, and the cows are petted and talked to and treated with love and kindness. She even plays music in the barn and decorates the cows’ stalls at Christmas. And then one day she walks them onto a transport truck and says goodbye. I said to my friend “How can she do that??” He sort of chuckled and said “I don’t think she really thinks too much about where they’re going once they leave the farm.” Evidently not.

Here’s the thing: they’re going to the same slaughterhouse the other cows (and pigs and sheep and goats) go to. The same slaughterhouse where the workers have lost their sense of humanity and decency, or are so intimidated by the managers that they’ll do whatever they have to do to keep their jobs. That often means doing things that would give any normal person nightmares (and indeed, many slaughterhouse workers suffer from PTSD, alcoholism, and drug abuse, along with having the highest rates of workplace injury in the country).

So here’s what happens to the cows who had a nice life. They are tortured to death. No exaggeration. They are not killed “humanely.” Industrial slaughter is a disassembly line where time is money. The line moves from worker to worker so fast that anything remotely resembling a humane death is an impossibility. You probably know that animals are supposed to be stunned, rendered unconscious, before they are killed. But because of the speed at which animals are moving through a slaughterhouse, that doesn’t necessarily happen, or when it does they are insufficiently stunned and come to somewhere along the production line. All too often, they are fully conscious while they are shackled and hanging upside down by one leg…fully conscious while their throats are slit…and fully conscious when their legs are cut off and still conscious when they’re skinned. Before any of this happens, they may be treated with incredible and callous cruelty by workers who have become completely desensitized to the suffering and pain of other beings. And they are subjected to this because people like meat. Think about that, please. Think about that the next time you feel like having a steak, or a pork chop, or lamb souvlaki.

This is why I became a vegetarian, and ultimately vegan. I couldn’t justify any animal suffering because I felt like indulging a particular taste. I used to be really careful about where my meat and dairy came from. Until I figured out that ultimately, it all comes from the same place.