Saturday, March 28, 2015

Does It Matter If the Chicken You're Eating Was Humanely Raised?






I just don't get it. As long as you are going to eat a chicken, why does it matter how that chicken has been raised? The chicken's life might be a journey, but still...  Is its ultimate destination completely meaningless? It's one thing to die, and another to die and have your body processed into unrecognizable bits that end up on on someone's table and plate. The fact that a chicken might be eaten or not upon its death is an apparently insignificant detail for the supporters of the humanely raised movement. But how could that be? Death is, in a weird way, part of life, and the way in which you die may cast a certain light upon the way in which you have lived. That's why we, humans, have such things as martyrs. Now, when it comes to chickens and our humanity in raising them, it doesn't make much sense to invest a lot of effort and resources in order to make a chicken's life more enjoyable just so that, in the end, you can roast it in the oven. If we are really serious about treating chickens and other animals humanely, then we proceed from certain assumptions that leave no room for picturing them as edible meat. A humane treatment presupposes kindness, compassion, some kind of empathy. Where do killing and eating fit into this scene? When chickens are indeed humanely raised, your very attitude towards them and their life will not allow you to eat them. A humane treatment encompasses attachment and it's hard to believe that most reasonable people would be able to eat the living object of their sincere attachment.

For sure, eating humanely raised chickens will not help anyone other than ourselves. It will deceive us. It will make us feel that we're doing the right thing, whereas, in fact, we're making matters worse. Let me be more specific.This so-called humaneitarianism has been growing so much in the last couple of years up to the point that even big meat producers have decided to embrace it. Look at the Perdue Farms, for instance. Perdue was quick to adapt to the new values and needs of their costumers and, as such, they started labelling their chicken products as being humanely raised. Their chickens, however, are still raised to grow unnaturally fast and large, which makes walking impossible for them. The barns continue to be crowded and exceptionally dirty. Where is the humanity in all of this? 

We have to be honest about our values and expectations. The labor division within the food industry has alienated us from the moral implications that permeate our meals. Perhaps it is easier for us to eat meat that was raised under decent conditions as long as we ourselves are estranged from them and keep on thinking that the animal sacrificed for us had a relatively joyful life. Nonetheless, this does not change the fact that we are eating its meat. Whether it was humanely raised or not, you are still eating that chicken. And that's the only thing that matters, in the end.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

What Does It Mean to Really Help Someone?








I'm seeing it everyday and I'm seeing it more than ever: people willing to help other people. This is amazing and it's the pinnacle of human altruism, probably the most precious gem on our moral crowns. Not only that many of us respond to the perceived needs of others when our paths happen to cross, but there is even a trend nowadays to actively search for recipients of help. If you have any doubt that this is happening, just check out the recent story of the Dancing Man. After a 4chan post showed something that resembled the bullying of an overweight man's attempt to dance, a viral Twitter campaign was launched in order to identify the Dancing Man and help him. Help him feel better about himself, help him feel better about the story, help him dance, in the end, and be the dancing man that everybody knew he could be.

It took many hashtags to find the Dancing Man. It took the power of a relatively large group of ladies whose self-declared aim was 'to do something special'. It even took a couple of celebrities on board, who offered their support, blessing and free DJ services. Finally, help could be offered. The Dancing Man was found, a party was organized and our hero had his chance to dance. While there's enough Twitter evidence to safely argue that the helpers were ecstatic about the help they were able to give, we don't really know much about how the Dancing Man himself really felt about all this story. His after-party tweet seems anything but enthusiastic: 'Trying to keep low profile!! Turned down couple interviews yesterday as well. Promise will provide interview when there.' Hangover or something deeper?

I recently googled 'helping others'. I was extremely curious to see what people thought about what helping others really meant. On the first results page, I came across articles with titles such as 10 Ways to Help Others That Will Lead You To Success and How Helping Others Can Reduce Stress and Increase Happiness. So, my intuition, recently fuelled by the whole Dancing Man story, wasn't failing me after all, pointing towards a sad, though realistic, conclusion. Helping has ceased to be something that we do primarily for others. We do it mainly for ourselves. Because it reduces stress. Because research has shown that people who help other people tend to be happier and to live longer. Because it makes us feel good about ourselves.

But is this really what helping others should be really about? In a relationship focused on giving and receiving help, which part should set the ground and parameters for action? The helper? Or the helped? I would say it is within the prerogatives of the helped to define the object of the helping relationship. Otherwise, a helper might very well offer you an extraordinarily tasty chocolate while you are dying of thirst. Or a beautiful pair of shoes that might suit you just wonderfully were they three sizes bigger. You cannot offer a person whatever you are ready to get rid of and label it as help. It just doesn't work this way. Call it 'offering' at most, but definitely not help because it isn't. Helping someone amounts to responding to a well-defined need of a person. Fulfilling this need might come at a greater cost for you, because if it is a real need, chances are that most of us experience it as well, which also includes you. But this is genuinely what help amounts to: the type of action which might leave you missing something (an object, a state of mind) because you took the time and effort to put yourself into someone else's shoes - which is never easy - and fill a gap that made a difference.