Fancy a BLT?
In the 2019 Australian Middle Years Ethics Olympiad students were asked to consider a scene from the 1995 movie Babe. In this scene an anthropomorphised piglet is seen having a chat with a family of sheep dogs. The dogs, with an air of entitlement that stemmed from their privileged relationship to the farmer and superior intelligence, reassured the piglet that she would not be eaten as ‘the farmer only eats stupid animals’. The dogs then go on to name the piglet, Babe.
This is a disturbing scene, it would seem that it is an accepted norm that the smart eat while the dumb inevitably get eaten. One must ask, is the moral justification of our diet dependent on intelligence? Are there any other moral considerations?
This reasoning, if consistently applied, could be a ‘recipe’ for disaster. It may mean that the nightly news could replace Master Chef and an evening on social media could become a virtual buffet. On a more serious note, if we cannot accept that intelligence is a morally relevant distinguisher when determining what we ought to eat, are we ethically bound to adopt vegetarianism?
The appeal to empathy
One way in which some argue for vegetarianism or veganism is through an appeal to empathy. You may be familiar with vegan activist and animal rights campaigner Joey Carbstrong. He attempts to use moral reasoning and emotive imagery to convince people that the only truly ethical choice is to live a vegan lifestyle and he makes many well formulated points. In a recent post he uploaded a clip where he visited what was termed the world’s ‘most transparent slaughterhouse’. Part way through the interview he stated that he liked to ‘put himself in the animal’s position…’ and he knew that if he were the animal, he would prefer life to death. He also appeals to the value of the individual animal ‘in there’. Movies that anthropomorphise animals, like Babe, do the same thing, they imagine that the animal is ‘just like us’. The Babe ‘in there’ is ‘just like’ the Andrew ‘in here’. We are hardwired to be aware of other minds and thus to infer subjective experience onto other creatures. The problem is that we infer that this subjective experience is akin to our own.
I find this particular approach at least partially problematic. The problem is that when we put ourselves in the position of the animal or we engage with a film about a fictional talking pig we subsequently presume that pigs talk, that they have an inner dialogue, and thus have a self-reflexive identity. These activities imply a certain level of higher order self-concept, they imply an ability to depict things symbolically, to conceive of oneself as a temporal creature. It implies that the animal can articulate its desires, have long term goals and create traditions. It implies some critical faculty of abstract reasoning. A considerable amount of the moral value that we attribute to people stems from these distinctly human capabilities. Even when people may not have these capabilities we seem to value them, at least partially, because we know that these abilities are emerging or in regular circumstances should be there. When we tragically lose these capabilities through injury, disability, age or accident we often see this as a significant loss, the person is diminished. We can say that those suffering these misfortunes are ‘no longer themselves’, they are ‘vegetables’ or ‘no one is home’. Some go as far as to say these kinds of significant losses equate to a life that is not worth living.
I would argue that our value and membership in the moral community is at least partly tied up in this unique form of self concept and self expression. Daniel Dennett once said that if a lion could talk it could not tell us anything about what it’s like to be a lion, not because we couldn’t understand it but because once it started to talk it would not know what it was to be a lion. The human experience and human conception of identity is unique. Anthropomorphising all sentient creatures to an equal extent and seeing ourselves in the eyes of the other can be problematic and it can lead us to overstate and over simplify our case.
This does not mean that the subjective experience and suffering of sentient creatures is morally irrelevant. However, if we are to avoid rash generalisations we cannot conflate disparate things into a single category for the sake of convenience. One philosopher who is acutely aware of this is Martha Nussbaum. When considering animals in her broader theory of justice she argues that animal capability and flourishing must be considered in a way that is proportionate to their dignity, it ‘…regards each animal having a dignity all its own’. The protection of animal capabilities must be commensurate with the kind of things that that animal can ‘do’ and the kind of thing that it can ‘be’. The ‘doings’ and ‘beings’ of particular animals are distinct. In this view, one can adopt a situational ethic that develops rules appropriate to the nature of the animal in question and the situation in which the rule is being made while ensuring that at least a minimum amount of dignity can be safeguarded. In short, Babe doesn’t need a name and voice in order to be worthy of some level of moral consideration, however the ability to feel pain doesn’t automatically grant Babe moral equivalence. Furthermore, it would be equally naive if one did not recognise cognitive ability and self concept as contributing features in a suite of morally relevant considerations.
The problems of ideology
In relation to the question of vegetarianism, ideology can reign supreme on both sides of the debate.
Those who indiscriminately defend the consumption of animal products often defer to tradition in one form or another. In a recent discussion with students I (playing the devil’s advocate) suggested that we should eat koalas. They were appalled – “but it’s a koala!” they exclaimed. Here are some facts: koalas have disproportionately small brains, low levels of adaptability, they sleep most of the day, they live mostly solitary lives and have minimal perceived benefits to the ecosystems that they are a part of. It seems that killing a koala for food could possibly be a morally neutral, if not justifiable, action… and yet it just feels wrong. At this point one student will interject and say ‘Aww… but they’re cute!’ I quickly respond, ‘Surely cuteness is not morally relevant and even if it were, we eat lambs, calves and piglets all of the time. Do you not find them cute?’
There is an awkward silence.
Problematic ideological reasoning can similarly infiltrate those who maintain an ideological commitment to vegetarianism. People become vegetarians for a multitude of reasons. The reasons include the intuitive wrongness of killing, the concerns for ecological sustainability and preventing the needless suffering of sentient creatures. Most vegetarians justify their positions with reference to one or more of these greater effects or principles.
Let’s consider a short case study: Peter is a strict vegetarian. Peter is at a restaurant, he orders the mushroom burger, what he doesn’t realise is that the mushroom is fried in a sauce that contains anchovies. Upon finding out this fact he calls the waiter, the waiter swiftly disposes of the burger. Peter orders the halloumi salad instead. Peter is satisfied.
In this case Peter has wasted food for no net gain. The suffering and killing that occurred has still occurred and no one has benefited. Furthermore, the second meal has added to the ecological impact of his dining experience, food has been wasted and more food has been produced. Finally, replacing halloumi for anchovies may also be more generally problematic. Anchovies are small fish with relatively low cognitive ability, high reproductive capacity, short life spans and they are often consumed in short timeframes in their natural settings. Dairy on the other hand, involves proportionately higher levels of cruelty. Dairy cows have a significantly higher cognitive capacity and are kept perpetually pregnant or lactating, they have their calves routinely stripped from them, their male calves supply the veal industry and their female calves share the fate of their mothers. When they are no longer useful they are slaughtered. In this case ideological commitment to vegetarianism leads to a response that is contrary to all the morally relevant reasons as to why one may be a vegetarian in the first place.
It would seem that deference to tradition either through affiliation to a particular ideological group or the enculturated values of one’s own society inhibit one’s capacity to make ethically defensible choices.
Back to the BLT
Sometimes we have a tendency to habitually exclude animals from the things that we see as morally relevant. Once we stop and consider that animals too have inner lives, we may be led to see reflections of ourselves in them. We may very well share some common experiences, however the homosapien is a very distinct species and the human experience is a unique one. Animals are not mindless machines and they are not fully functional, responsible human beings – their place in our moral community is nuanced and complex.
Personally, I think that it is unjustifiable for a person of sufficient means and education to indiscriminately dismiss the preferences and experience of sentient creatures. Equally, I do not think that all creatures, or their experiences, are equal. Ideological commitment to particular rules inevitably sets the bar at an unrealistic height and can ultimately lead to the perfect getting in the way of the good. Furthermore, such rules can actually be, in themselves, inhibiting when attempting to reach more ideal standards in general terms. Avoiding deontological rules in favour of nuanced and situational analysis is hard and is riddled with problems of incommensurate goods and unforeseen consequences. Considering each meal, each moment can be exhausting.
Despite this, we can aim to develop a disposition that is considered, conscious of the proportional dignity and capabilities of sentient creatures and compassionate toward the pain of others. Such an ambition may enable us to imperfectly walk the line between apathy and dogmatism in a way that perfectly captures the complexities of the human condition.
Would I order the BLT?
Probably not, because such an action is seldom justifiable in my given context. Despite this, if you had already ordered it for me – perhaps while I was on my soapbox – I would eat it..
Andrew Costantino, Santa Sabina College, Sydney, Australia