The latest issue of Sierra, the magazine for Sierra Club members, showed up in our mailbox on Saturday. One article in particular stood out: “Life Itself Is a Risky Process” , an interview with Mary Zeiss Stange, professor of religon and women’s studies at Skidmore College. Stange is a feminist, an environmentalist …and an avid hunter. When she’s not teaching at Skidmore, she and her husband run a bison ranch in Montana.
It’s an interesting interview. Take Stange’s views on women and hunting:
Sierra: How do you explain the differences between men’s and women’s approaches to hunting?
Stange: Even before I became a hunter, I was fascinated by the Greek goddess Artemis, whom the Romans called Diana. One thing that struck me was that the goddess of hunting is also the goddess of childbirth. What do taking life and giving birth have to do with each other? They put you immediately in touch with the fact that everything that lives does so because other things die. Life itself is a risky process. Certainly one of those moments is childbirth. Another is the decision to take the life of a big, beautiful, sentient animal so that you can feed yourself and your family.
Stange gets point for candor, and of course, that last sentence (bold emphasis mine) left me indignant. It’s true that death and life are woven together, and that the survival of many creatures is contingent on their ability to kill and consume other living beings. But the fact that death is inevitable and, in some instances in the animal world, crucial for the survival of species, doesn’t mean that those creatures who have free will and have the means to exercise it shouldn’t do all in their power to struggle to minimize death. Stange and her family don’t need to live off the flesh of another sentient creature. For a 21st century middle-class American, the killing of living beings isn’t a survival imperative — it’s a decision to which there are legitimate alternatives. To pretend otherwise is foolish and cruel.
At the same time, Stange has a lot that is good to say about the way in which so many modern people deliberately close their eyes to the suffering that brought the food to their table:
We are a death-denying society. We don’t like death to happen publicly–whether it’s the death of a loved one or of whatever animal that is going to be feeding us. If they understood what goes on in a factory farm or a feedlot or a slaughterhouse, most people would think seriously, if not about eating meat, at least about whether they want to buy meat at such cost to animals and human health. Those animals can only survive the feedlot to get to the slaughterhouse by being heavily medicated, eating an unnatural diet, and living in miserable conditions. We’re shielded from that in this society.
It’s often said that hunting is an intellectually honest way to be a meat eater. I began hunting in part because I thought if I can’t at least imagine being actively involved in creating meat, then I don’t have any business eating it. Because of industrial agriculture’s impacts on wildlife, you can’t opt out of your responsibility for the death of sentient beings by simply declaring yourself a vegetarian or vegan.
She’s right, at least in part. I agree with her implication that shielding yourself from the reality of how your meat comes to your table is intellectually dishonest. I agree with her as well that we ought not to eat what we are not willing to kill. And I accept what she says in her final line, about vegans still being complicit in the death of wildlife. When we eat bread grown from wheat fields which were cleared by mice-killing combines, we are — in a much smaller but still painful way — complicit in death. Stange is right that simply giving up animal products in one’s diet — without questioning how our grains, fruits and legumes are grown — isn’t enough. When the open spaces get paved over, when the mouse traps are set, when the pesticide is sprinkled on the roses, animals die. Even if I study every label at Whole Foods and buy synthetic leather shoes and wallets, somehow, somewhere, someway, some living creature is dying to keep me alive.
At the same time, the fact that even strict vegans have a nearly impossible time avoiding complicity in death is hardly a justification for hunting and shooting sentient creatures. It’s one thing to say, “We can’t really be perfectly cruelty-free yet, and we need to be honest about that.” It’s another thing altogether to say “And since we can’t avoid taking the lives of animals in some form or another, we might as well get up close and personal with death and relish the act of hunting and killing.” I understand that Stange wants to be a more active participant in the circle of life, and I honor the seriousness of her views. But there’s a colossal distinction between the sober acknowledgement that in this yet-imperfect world, some death must happen — and the eager and enthusiastic embrace of killing. Because some creatures still must die so that others may live does not mean that it is somehow moral to be a cheerful agent of their deaths, particularly when one can make intelligent choices that at least dramatically ameliorate the suffering of other living creatures. An indigenous African in the bush may not have a choice; Stange does, and I’ll judge her for it.
And even as I find the pleasure that some folks take in hunting to be inexplicable, I have no sentimental illusions about the possibility of creating a cruelty-free world anytime soon. In high school, my beloved biology teacher, Mr. Fletcher, cautioned us against becoming what he called “Bambi environmentalists.” A “Bambi environmentalist” hates the thought of anything being killed. To paraphrase a line from Jeffers’ “Dear Judas”, a “Bambi environmentalist” weeps for the dove killed by the hawk, and weeps for the hawk killed by the hunter, and weeps at a world so cruel that hawks must kill doves in order to live. “Bambi environmentalism” is usually an emotional response to cuteness rather than an authentic hatred of cruelty. Bambi environmentalists cry for polar bears and penguins and chinchillas — but not for the rattlesnake run over on the road.
I’m not a vegan because I think cows have sweet faces, or because I think chickens are cute, or because I’m awed at the intelligence of hogs. I’m not just interested in my own personal piety (though I admit, as regular readers know, that I find my own pursuit of moral righteousness to be a compelling subject!) I’m an environmentalist and a vegan because I believe that truly good stewardship of the earth and its creatures requires the relentless pursuit of a world without cruelty. Hawks will still kill doves, and lions will still eat gazelles, and unlike Judas in the Jeffers poem, those truths do not make me weep. But I am not a hawk or a lion; I am a human being who is not merely sentient, not merely conscious in the manner of other higher mammals. I am a human being who has the capacity to make choices, and those of us who have the capacity to choose have a God-given obligation to choose kindness. We must work towards a world where each animal (I include humans in this) has the maximum opportunity for a life filled with pleasure and joy. Death will happen, of course; and for some creatures, killing must happen. Those like the hawk or the lion who have no cerebral cortex to regulate their instinct to kill will continue to kill until the Messiah comes and the aforementioned lion lies down with the lamb.
But for those of us who have that cerebral cortex, who are cognizant not only of our own needs but the needs of others, have a moral obligation to maximize joy and pleasure for as many living creatures as possible. If the deer is to be eaten by the mountain lion, we ought not shoot the lion to save the deer. But if the deer is going to be eaten by the mountain lion tomorrow, we ought not shoot the deer today and deprive that magnificent sentient creature of one more day of the sheer pleasure of living. That’s not urban sentimentality, that’s a ruthless commitment to life. Being alive is good.
My wife and I work hard to live a life that involves as little suffering as possible. Buying clothes that weren’t made in sweatshops, buying carbon offsets for our plane flights, and eating strictly vegan are all steps we’ve chosen to take. Not everyone can afford these measures, at least not yet. But I’m a great believer that “to whom much is given, of whom much is expected”. Those who can live cruelty-free (or as close as is reasonably possible) ought to do so. They ought to work as well to make the cruelty-free lifestyle accessible and affordable for as many as possible, something that will require a radical rethink of the way in which our food and clothing is produced. The fact that it is difficult and challenging doesn’t mean, however, that we aren’t called to try.
The Stange article stirred something up in me, and I’m grateful for it. I know that many of my fellow Sierra Clubbers do hunt, and many see their willingness to kill for food as a sign of reverence for life. I understand that position even as I reject it, and I look forward to some serious conversations soon with the friends and loved ones in my life who, like professor Stange, delight in “taking the life of a big, beautiful, sentient animal.”
I think this is well said Hugo.
I am further confused as to how childbirth and the decision to take life are so similar? (I sense she is romanticizing some sort of pseudo reciprocity).
I do agree with the desire to connect oneself to what we consume. I wish it were more possible to do that with everything.
I’m a vegetarian feminist environmentalist, so I think I understand a lot of your positions here. That said, though, while hunting for sport is deplorable, hunting for food (especially if one decides to eat meat only when one has killed the creature oneself) is, I think, a valid moral choice. Certainly it is infinitely more moral than eating meat in almost any other way (equally moral exceptions being, perhaps, local kosher meat — humane treatment, low carbon footprint).
I think where we disagree is that I don’t believe killing an animal for food is, in and of itself, wrong. Torturing animals for a profit is wrong. Going to the supermarket to buy the faceless bodies of these tortured creatures is wrong. For me, it’s about eliminating cruelty, suffering, injustice, corruption — not eliminating death. Death is okay. It’s part of life, it’s part of the plan.
in this yet-imperfect world, some death must happen
Even in a perfect world, a lot death must happen. You mention the Messiah (who I thought you Christian folks think already came!) — the Moshiach Times, I was taught, in my very liberal Reform education, mark an end to war and suffering. Not death.
So, I’m confused that you seem to think we should get rid of death (at the same time you acknowledge that we shouldn’t weep when animals eat one another). We should work to repair the world, to live cruelty-free lives (as much as possible), to eliminate brutality and injustice… But working to eliminate death will get us nowhere.
Daisy, Christians think the Messiah came — and is coming back to usher in the time when not only will lions and lambs lie down together (a clear indication of the end of the predatory-prey relationship) but “death itself shall be no more, for the former things have passed away.”
Death is part of life. But even a pain-free bullet through the head of a deer (and let’s not kid ourselves; most hunters don’t kill their prey instantly) deprives that animal not only of life but the capacity for delight. And just being alive — grazing, wandering around, nuzzling a fawn, leaping — is pleasurable. Even those who deny the consciousness of other mammals admit their capacity for tactile pleasure in the ordinariness of life.
Daisy, Christians think the Messiah came — and is coming back to usher in the time when not only will lions and lambs lie down together (a clear indication of the end of the predatory-prey relationship) but “death itself shall be no more, for the former things have passed away.”
Oh okay, good to know.
Death is part of life. But even a pain-free bullet through the head of a deer (and let’s not kid ourselves; most hunters don’t kill their prey instantly) deprives that animal not only of life but the capacity for delight. And just being alive — grazing, wandering around, nuzzling a spouse, leaping — is pleasurable. Even those who deny the consciousness of other mammals admit their capacity for tactile pleasure in the ordinariness of life.
Yeah, I certainly recognize both non-human animals’ consciousness and capacity for pleasure.
This is probably a irreducible disagreement, so feel free not to respond if you think it’s not useful… I think that the binary of life/death — good/bad is both unproductive and false. Life is good and bad, and death is, too. If we simplify life to just goodness and death to something bad to be avoided at all costs, we do ourselves a disservice, both in acknowledging the full scope of life and in preparing for the inevitability of death (both our own and that of every other creature we encounter). I think allegiance to binaries such as this one, though driven by good intentions, nearly always gives way to over-simplification and an unsustainable kind of purism. Speaking, by the way, as someone who tends towards dualistic thinking and purism.
I am not anti-death as much as I am anti-killing, Daisy. I think that’s a vital distinction. Yes, death will happen, and trying to prevent it usually results in more death (like the torture of animals in laboratories to develop life-saving medicines, or just by shooting the hawk to save the dove.). But we can work to stop the killing, starting with the killing we do.
And when and if killing living things does become absolutely necessary, it ought to be an occasion for reflection and solemnity, not for delight.
But we can work to stop the killing, starting with the killing we do.
And when and if killing living things does become absolutely necessary, it ought to be an occasion for reflection and solemnity, not for delight.
Okay, Hugo. Fair enough.
And when and if killing living things does become absolutely necessary, it ought to be an occasion for reflection and solemnity, not for delight.
I wonder (and I am neither a hunter nor a vegetarian; this is a genuine question) whether this is possible. Postulating a group that needs to hunt to live, I wonder if one can hunt as well — if one can hunt well enough — if one doesn’t take joy in it? I would suspect that cultivating the skill necessitates a certain amount of delight in it.
Stephen, would you say the same about killing, when speaking of Marines? Should we train our soldiers to take a certain amount of delight in war?
Hugo, Christians also believe that return of the golden age, that end of cruelty (which is mentioned in Isaiah, during a time of animal sacrifice and very much human cruelty by the by), is the mass killing of sentient beings one to another, which is then followed by God doing a bit with the sword (perhaps the Messiah takes some pleasure in the solomn joy of killing - after all, if you were a friend of Jesus; Christian believe you died in “interesting” ways - all for good, of course).
While I suppose I applaud your ideals, I also view them as the man determined to move the ocean with a spoon. Humans have yet to demonstrate a capacity to come up with as many reasons not to kill each other as they do in order to kill each other. If you are unaware, Marines ARE taught to take satisfaction in a job well done - HOO-YAH. The best of soldiers are literal killing beings (to call them machines would take away the achievement they have made in killing abilities).
As for hunting, while I do not participate myself, I have lived in and with communities in which this is the main source of food. The North is not a sympathetic place, and while there are few predators of humans; the area I lived had between 80-100 deaths annually from exposure. And animals did what animals did (perhaps they debated they ethics of it in their dens later). And humans did what humans did. There is a reason why most northern cultures have a strong connection to a) hunting and b) a humor or culture about getting killed by nature - take Noi Albino - did the glacier “hunt” the town? No, things just happen. You have chicken because you cannot afford a cow; you have a cow because you are wealthy enough to have several children. When it is time, the cow is killed, as quickly as possible and sold or traded (slow or painful killing changes the texture of the meat).
My partners parents raise free herd cows in an environment where there is snow 2/3rds to 3/4th of the year. They come from at least 10 generations of doing the same. I was born in a city; when I was in my 20’s I found it disgusting. Now, after being with the Hudderites and Russian Mennonites, I realize that they exist because they could thrive in “tending” (or hunting) when others could not.
A question for vegans who believe in a benevolent deity of any sort: If it’s not in his/her/its plan for us to eat meat, why were our bodies engineered for it? Why the flesh-tearing canine teeth, why the forward oriented eyes of a predator, why the digestive system that is even capable of processing flesh?
In other words, if your God doesn’t want you eating meat, why did he make it so possible for you to do so?
Chief, as I’ve written many times in regard to biology and feminism, “design is not destiny.”
Might as well ask a woman on birth control, why she’s not willing to get pregnant? Why else would God give her a uterus?
the forward oriented eyes of a predator
The rest of the primates have forward oriented eyes, yet they eat very little, if any, meat.
While I understand not wanting to hunt because of the belief that killing is cruelty, there is a part of this debate that has not been brought up yet: there may be (I think there is) a broader societal or environmental need for hunting that cannot be reduced down to an individual need for food.
Environmentalists and ecologists say that we must enforce population control measures on certain species that can cause great environmental harm if left unchecked. Rats are most often cited, but pigeons, gulls, rabbits and deer are also included. Any method of short-term population control is going to have cruelty issues tied to it, and long-term solutions (like reintroduction of predators) are not always viable options. If there is a natural woodland ecosystem that needs 100 fewer deer in order to maintain its health and biodiversity, then let’s eat the deer and use that much less of any other food source.
Sure, hunting can be done in very cruel and inhumane ways, but there are instances where it is a good moral choice even when it is not, strictly speaking, a necessity for feeding oneself and one’s family.
I’m sure the deer would feel joy about not having any predators, but when they pass their carrying capacity and become overcrowded, malnourished, and diseased, I don’t think their joy will be as great.
Quercus, this is why I accept the need for fish and game officials to do some very limited culling, to do it with reverence and solemnity, and to do it after all other options have been exhausted. And they damn well better be world-class marksmen.
So if you’re going to cull deer, why not eat them? Deer are a big environmental problem, since we’ve killed off all their natural predators. They’re one of the main factors in the spread of invasive plants, and they’re way overbalancing their ecosystem. Apart from the re-introduction of wolves and other natural predators, one of the best things we can do for a forest ecosystem is get rid of a large percentage of the deer. And being that deer are also free-range, plant-fed, and organic, venison is pretty much the only meat that is environmentally friendly (as in, it’s better for the environment to eat the deer than not). The ethics of veganism make sense to me, from a certain point of view. But culling deer is necessary for the health of the ecosystems in which the deer live– is there a good reason to not eat them?
I’m with Stange on this one.
Hugo, you say: “For a 21st century middle-class American, the killing of living beings isn’t a survival imperative — it’s a decision to which there are legitimate alternatives.” The trouble is that we are far from finding any really legitimate alternatives. Let me illustrate what I mean by an example.
You said: “When we eat bread grown from wheat fields which were cleared by mice-killing combines, we are — in a much smaller but still painful way — complicit in death.” Well, even if we could invent a mice-safe combine, the fact remains that the wheat field was once a natural forest or grassland. An area of habitat that once used to support a wild diversity of life, is now used primarily to support human life. Over the past ten thousand years, we humans have made dramatic changes to our planet, all for the purpose of supporting our burgeoning population at the cost of the other animals that share the planet with us (many of which have gone extinct or face extinction). The only other animals and plants that have prospered are the ones that we have domesticated for our own purposes - cows, hogs, chickens, cats, dogs and plants like wheat, corn and rice. So what was that legitimate alternative again? As a species, we are not yet intelligent or sophisticated enough to come up with an alternative that is truly harmless, or even one that is indisputably less harmful than any other.
I actually disagree with Hugo’s argument at so many other levels. That it is ok to eat plant matter, and not animal matter, as if plants are not living entities (I find it telling that Hugo uses animals and living things interchangeably). Plants respond to stimuli too, and I’d argue a plant has as much capability to experience “delight” as an animal, only in a way that we cannot comprehend. Fundamentally, Hugo, your argument is anthropomorphic. You are selectively empathizing with those closer to us in nature (animals), at the cost of those further away (plants).
John, the key here is sentience and the capacity to feel pleasure and pain — something we have demonstrated with animals, and something the vast majority of biologists do not believe is possible with plants. It is not anthropomorphic to recognize terror in a cow about to be slaughtered, any more than it is culturally chauvinistic to recognize pain in the face of a Darfur refugee.
why were our bodies engineered for it?
They weren’t “engineered” for anything. We’ve evolved to be able to eat a wide variety of foodstuffs because helped us survive to do so.
Acer, yours is a compelling argument — and relates to the way in which most vegans don’t see any need at the present time to go after those who are true subsistence hunters.
My own objection to culled deer being eaten is twofold. On the one hand, it’s moral: I’d no more want to eat a deer that’s been shot than I would want to eat a dead human who’s died of natural causes. I acknowledge that humans may have higher consciousness than animals, but our similarities as creatures outweigh our differences. The fact that the death was necessary doesn’t make the consumption of the corpse pragmatic, healthy, or just — whether we’re talking about humans or deer.
Second, I’m convinced by the suggestion that meat isn’t good for us, and that our bodies thrive best on plant-based diets.