Owning a "pet" and eating different other animals ("food animals") are two types of animal use. However, socially constructed attitudes about these categories differ considerably.
For example, it is common - universal probably - to name other animals we use as pets. We acknowledge their individuality in this way. We also tend to refrain from calling those in the pets category "it," even if we may routinely call most other animals "it" as a general matter.
One major difference in the way we view these different forms of animal use involves the notion that we "love" one type, even when they are alive, and only (in a sense) "love" the other type once they have been killed and cooked.
In line with how the animal user industries prefer it, most consumers do not think of those they eat as individuals - and neither does the industry. They regard them as "units of production" and "stock" (or "livestock.") They are not named and they are not "loved" (although the representatives of animal farming interests will try to suggest otherwise.)
We kill these categories of animal use differently too. The "loved" ones are taken to a vet, whereas the "food animals" are forced to go into a slaughterhouse.
When we begin to populate these categories, different types of other animals are chosen (generally speaking - this alters across cultures). For example, in the "pet" category of animal use, we place dogs, cats, horses and ponies, some birds, some types of fishes, and some of the smaller mammals such as guinea pigs. In the "food animal" category of animal use, we include beings such as pigs, chickens, cows, some fishes, and some other types of "seafood."
As suggested, lines get blurred across cultures and, even in the same cultural setting, some of the "pets" may end up classified for other forms of animal use, such as "working dogs" or "therapy animals." On rare occasions, some individuals usually classed as "food animals" end up in the "pet" category, as do exotic free-living beings.
This is where cultural speciesism plays a neat trick. For although everyone knows that, in fact, "food animals" are actually animals, they become somewhat invisibilised within that general category. "Pets," on the other hand, are always openly acknowledged as "animals."
Do I have examples, you ask. I do, I answer.
For example, when writing my Ph.D, I put a call out on an early internet campaigner's forum asking for examples of what could be called, "attitudes to (other) animals."
One reply was about a group of teenagers who approached an "animal rights information table." In conversation, they declared that they did not eat other animals, although none were vegan, nor even vegetarians. It transpired that they all had fully bought into the cultural invisibilisation of "food animals."
They said that "animals" were "things like cats and dogs." Although they described these other animals as "things," they nevertheless saw them as "proper animals," they said. Farmed animals, on the other hand, were not "proper" and, therefore, should not be counted as "proper animals." They were merely dismissed as, "things that taste good."
In exactly the same month in 1999, journalist Julie Burchill wrote about being "mad about animals." However, she wanted to clarify what she meant - that is, "when I say 'animals,' I don't mean the poor brutes bred for food and I don't mean wild animals you see on TV... No, what I mean, of course, is pets - dogs and cats, but cats in particular."
Therefore, even as she provided some clarification, she knows that - really deep down - "of course" - her readers knew all along that she was making this category difference.
What this means is that we grow up being taught about these category games and we begin to understand that our attitudes to other animals are closely linked to the function that we make them play in society or in "the wild." This functionalist orientation dictates our view of other animals in terms of what use we put them to - and what moral and/or financial value we assign to them.
As we have seen, some we use as pets - some we use as food. These are simply the functional differences we impose on them, along with the "use variations" discussed above.
And this, dear vegan activists, is why the idea of challenging speciesists on their animal use in terms of "loving one and eating another" doesn't always seem to turn out to be as a useful as we assumed it would - and should.
For example, when I see vegan activists doing street interviews about attitudes to "animal abuse," they often become unstuck when they switch the animal species being talked about. They may start by asking the public if they oppose "animal abuse" and, of course, everyone says that they do. We get the first evidence of the strength of cultural conditioning once the activist asks for examples of "animal abuse." Kicking dogs and cats, and beating horses may be the most common answers.
The activists and the public are reading from the same cultural hymn sheet at this early stage. Then activists try the "species switch" and suddenly everything changes, and not for the better. People are confused and, as often as not, immediately defensive. Sometimes offended; sometimes angered and hurt. What began as a discussion with a high level of agreement quickly transforms into a confrontation based on taught cultural understandings.
Often, just as with the teenagers above, people get tripped up by the categories games that they know so well. They know full well what "animals" are - dogs and cats, and those few others whom a historian has called "privileged species." They also know full well that they firmly oppose the abuse if not the use of animals. They might says, "I though you were asking about animal abuse?" When activists reply that they are talking about "all animals," the public are confused afresh because they also think that they are talking about all other animals.
If the activist tries to clarify the situation by talking about the other animals who are routinely taken to slaughterhouses and killed, the confusion persists and often, at this point, the conversation is over. Members of the public may think that they have been duped or tricked in some way - and no vegan education is possible from this time onwards.
While a vegan audience watching online may appreciate these "educational" encounters, I'm not at all sure that these "gotchas" operate as a successful means of getting people to think about the philosophy of veganism.
For example, it is common - universal probably - to name other animals we use as pets. We acknowledge their individuality in this way. We also tend to refrain from calling those in the pets category "it," even if we may routinely call most other animals "it" as a general matter.
One major difference in the way we view these different forms of animal use involves the notion that we "love" one type, even when they are alive, and only (in a sense) "love" the other type once they have been killed and cooked.
In line with how the animal user industries prefer it, most consumers do not think of those they eat as individuals - and neither does the industry. They regard them as "units of production" and "stock" (or "livestock.") They are not named and they are not "loved" (although the representatives of animal farming interests will try to suggest otherwise.)
We kill these categories of animal use differently too. The "loved" ones are taken to a vet, whereas the "food animals" are forced to go into a slaughterhouse.
When we begin to populate these categories, different types of other animals are chosen (generally speaking - this alters across cultures). For example, in the "pet" category of animal use, we place dogs, cats, horses and ponies, some birds, some types of fishes, and some of the smaller mammals such as guinea pigs. In the "food animal" category of animal use, we include beings such as pigs, chickens, cows, some fishes, and some other types of "seafood."
As suggested, lines get blurred across cultures and, even in the same cultural setting, some of the "pets" may end up classified for other forms of animal use, such as "working dogs" or "therapy animals." On rare occasions, some individuals usually classed as "food animals" end up in the "pet" category, as do exotic free-living beings.
This is where cultural speciesism plays a neat trick. For although everyone knows that, in fact, "food animals" are actually animals, they become somewhat invisibilised within that general category. "Pets," on the other hand, are always openly acknowledged as "animals."
Do I have examples, you ask. I do, I answer.
For example, when writing my Ph.D, I put a call out on an early internet campaigner's forum asking for examples of what could be called, "attitudes to (other) animals."
One reply was about a group of teenagers who approached an "animal rights information table." In conversation, they declared that they did not eat other animals, although none were vegan, nor even vegetarians. It transpired that they all had fully bought into the cultural invisibilisation of "food animals."
They said that "animals" were "things like cats and dogs." Although they described these other animals as "things," they nevertheless saw them as "proper animals," they said. Farmed animals, on the other hand, were not "proper" and, therefore, should not be counted as "proper animals." They were merely dismissed as, "things that taste good."
In exactly the same month in 1999, journalist Julie Burchill wrote about being "mad about animals." However, she wanted to clarify what she meant - that is, "when I say 'animals,' I don't mean the poor brutes bred for food and I don't mean wild animals you see on TV... No, what I mean, of course, is pets - dogs and cats, but cats in particular."
Therefore, even as she provided some clarification, she knows that - really deep down - "of course" - her readers knew all along that she was making this category difference.
What this means is that we grow up being taught about these category games and we begin to understand that our attitudes to other animals are closely linked to the function that we make them play in society or in "the wild." This functionalist orientation dictates our view of other animals in terms of what use we put them to - and what moral and/or financial value we assign to them.
As we have seen, some we use as pets - some we use as food. These are simply the functional differences we impose on them, along with the "use variations" discussed above.
And this, dear vegan activists, is why the idea of challenging speciesists on their animal use in terms of "loving one and eating another" doesn't always seem to turn out to be as a useful as we assumed it would - and should.
For example, when I see vegan activists doing street interviews about attitudes to "animal abuse," they often become unstuck when they switch the animal species being talked about. They may start by asking the public if they oppose "animal abuse" and, of course, everyone says that they do. We get the first evidence of the strength of cultural conditioning once the activist asks for examples of "animal abuse." Kicking dogs and cats, and beating horses may be the most common answers.
The activists and the public are reading from the same cultural hymn sheet at this early stage. Then activists try the "species switch" and suddenly everything changes, and not for the better. People are confused and, as often as not, immediately defensive. Sometimes offended; sometimes angered and hurt. What began as a discussion with a high level of agreement quickly transforms into a confrontation based on taught cultural understandings.
Often, just as with the teenagers above, people get tripped up by the categories games that they know so well. They know full well what "animals" are - dogs and cats, and those few others whom a historian has called "privileged species." They also know full well that they firmly oppose the abuse if not the use of animals. They might says, "I though you were asking about animal abuse?" When activists reply that they are talking about "all animals," the public are confused afresh because they also think that they are talking about all other animals.
If the activist tries to clarify the situation by talking about the other animals who are routinely taken to slaughterhouses and killed, the confusion persists and often, at this point, the conversation is over. Members of the public may think that they have been duped or tricked in some way - and no vegan education is possible from this time onwards.
While a vegan audience watching online may appreciate these "educational" encounters, I'm not at all sure that these "gotchas" operate as a successful means of getting people to think about the philosophy of veganism.
RSS Feed
