Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer
Title: Eating Animals
Author: Jonathan Safran Foer
Published: 2009
Type: Non-Fiction
Pages: 267
(yes it’s a bit dark to pose this one next to Tilly – I apologize)
Just how destructive does a culinary preference have to be before we decide to eat something else? If contributing to the suffering of billions of animals that live miserable lives and (quite often) die in horrific ways isn't motivating, what would be? If being the number one contributor to the most serious threat facing the planet (global warming) isn't enough, what is? And if you are tempted to put off these questions of conscience, to say not now, then when?
In Brief:
A thoughtful, powerful book on the relationship between humans and our food. Foer weaves together reporting and memoir in a way that’s deft, empathetic, even occasionally humorous despite the grim subject matter.
Rating: 4.2
Synopsis:
This book starts off with a personal story – the novelist Jonathan Safran Foer is about to become a father, and decides he needs to make a final, informed, ethical decision about whether or not he and his family should consume meat. He then embarks on a journey where he spends years seeking an answer.
He sneaks into an industrial/factory turkey farm. He tours an artisanal, family-run farm. He interviews many activists, farmers, laborers, academics, etc. He compares our pets to our food, he traces the evolution of factory farming throughout the years, grimly examines the use of antibiotics and potential of a factory-farm-bred pandemic (that hit close to home). He explores potential ways to compromise, to preserve the cultural and communal importance of shared meals, while upholding morals. And of course, he learns about the process of breeding, raising, killing, and eating meat – the genetic manipulation, the squalid living conditions, the appalling slaughter.
Spoiler alert: he decides to be a vegetarian.
Where I’m At:
I was not a vegetarian when I read this book. I am still not a vegetarian. Have I ruled out becoming a vegetarian at some point? No, I haven’t. Does it seem likely for me, as a permanent lifestyle? Maybe, but likely no.
For more context – I work at an organization that focuses, among other things, on farm animal welfare. We spend a lot of time and money on this, e.g. securing and following up on cage-free pledges from major corporations/fast food chains/grocery stores. I don’t work directly on this, but I am pretty bought in – I consider factory farming one of today’s biggest ethical quandaries, as well as a major environmental hazard. When I ate most of my meals in the office, the vast majority of my meals were vegan, and I was happy with that. Now, I cook mostly vegetarian for myself, vegan when I can (I really like cheese), and save meat only for special occasions. Some call this being a “reducetarian” i.e. you try to reduce the amount of suffering caused by your consumption – I find that label a bit silly, but it is accurate. Anyway, I am pretty satisfied with this choice for myself, given that I’m pretty skeptical of what changes in individual behavior can do compared to all those giant corporations. In other words:
(Thanks Jay)
So did this book change my mind, personally? No. But it did serve as a welcome affirmation of my current choices, and a call to recommit myself. I could see it being more influential for some (not all) other people, but I’ll get into that in a moment.
Getting Into it:
I will start off by saying that Foer is a really good writer. This is not a hot take, given that he’s already famous for his fiction (see Everything Is Illuminated, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close). But what worked for me in particular in this book is his earnestness – his urgency, his passion. This might seem like a flaw to other, more cynical readers; I could see someone finding it fake or overly put-on, a ploy to connect with the reader and pull on their emotions. But I’m generally trusting of people and took his tone in good faith. I enjoyed that it read almost more like a heartfelt, personal blog series than a book. Foer pulls in anecdotes from his life, seemed genuinely distressed over the ethical considerations. He is vulnerable, admitting to his doubts and weaknesses – if you read this blog or know me, you that’s something that I prize. Even as a non-parent, I appreciated his candor about the anxieties of parenthood:
And nothing inspires as much shame as being a parent. Children confront us with our paradoxes and hypocrisies, and we are exposed. You need to find an answer for every why — Why do we do this? Why don’t we do that? — and often there isn’t a good one. So you say, simply, because. Or you tell a story that you know isn’t true. And whether or not your face reddens, you blush. The shame of parenthood — which is a good shame — is that we want our children to be more whole than we are, to have satisfactory answers.
Foer also displays some serious technical writing skills in this book. He organizes the chapters in a way that’s linear, each clearly building on the next. He puts forwards the facts in a way that’s blunt, without being too much at once or overwhelming in his graphic descriptions – more matter-of-fact, clinical without being boring or heartless.
At first the situation doesn’t look too bad. It’s crowded, but they seem happy enough… The closer I look, the more I see. The ends of the beaks of the chicks are blackened, as are the ends of their toes. Some have red spots on the tops of their heads. Because there are so many animals, it takes me several minutes before I take in how many dead ones there are. Some are blood matted; others are covered in sores. Some seem to have been pecked at; others are as desiccated and loosely gathered as small piles of dead leaves. Some are deformed.
Beyond being impressive on its own, I think this probably helped his case be more convincing – we’ve all seen those terrible, bloody videos aimed at converting the masses to veganism. For me, and I would guess for most, those do more to make the viewer feel nauseous and guilty than seriously consider the argument on its merits.
And then he’s funny! Again, I think this is helpful for his argument – he’s not some humorless, judgmental vegan here to shame you for your sins. He can still take himself lightly. And also again, it’s technically impressive – that he can weave in these little jokes/wry observations without taking away from his serious points or really distracting from the tone.
However, I will pick a bone with Foer. Namely, he is deceiving! In the beginning of the book, he claims that he’s not making an argument for vegetarianism. He says:
A straightforward case for vegetarianism is worth writing, but it’s not what I’ve written here
And yet it totally is. I think he could have been more straightforward about that. Towards the end, he writes:
It seems to me that it’s plainly wrong to eat factory-farmed pork or to feed it to one’s family… It’s probably even wrong to sit silently with friends eating factory-farmed pork, however difficult it can be to say something. Pigs clearly have rich minds and just as clearly are condemned to miserable lives on factory farms. The analogy of a dog kept in a closet is fairly accurate, if somewhat generous. The environmental case against eating factory-farmed pork is airtight and damning… For similar reasons, I wouldn’t eat poultry or sea animals produced by factory methods. Looking into their eyes does not generate the same pathos as meeting eyes with a pig, but we see as much with our minds’ eyes.
Maybe he doesn’t say “It is definitely wrong.” He hedges a bit, makes it a personal decision. He’s even empathetic to those who might decide differently, or might hesitate, doesn’t make them out to be immoral, selfish monsters (at least not directly).
To give up the taste of sushi or roasted chicken is a loss that extends beyond giving up a pleasurable eating experience. Changing what we eat and letting tastes fade from memory create a kind of cultural loss, a forgetting.
But still. He has a conclusive answer, and even if he doesn’t technically prescribe it to everyone else, it’s hard to read that passage (or finish the book) and think it’s anything other than an argument for vegetarianism. Which is fine! He can still have an earnest exploration of other sides, make an effort to find an ethical way to do meat, then come up short and arrive at this endpoint (which he does!). Just don’t hide it!
Otherwise, I don’t have too many specific issues with the book. It was solidly good, if not great. I don’t think it really had any “new” information in it, but maybe I’m just over-educated for the audience. I also raised my eyebrows at some of the “facts” presented (such as Americans eating, on average, 21,000 entire animals in their lifetime), but even that didn’t bother me too much. I’m sure that the point is correct, which is something like “Americans eat a buttload of meat.” Some of the areas that were the most compelling for me I think got unfairly little time – such as the risks of disease that comes from factory farming (yikes), and the horrendous labor conditions for workers on factory farms. But that’s just my take, and I’m sure those subjects can and do have whole books.
I think Eating Animals could convince someone to at least reconsider their meat consumption and dietary choices, maybe even make some people into vegetarians. One of my book club friends is going veg for a few months after reading, though he was already pretty predisposed towards the argument, like me. I do broadly recommend that people should read it, if they are interested in a good entry point to farm animal welfare/ethical concerns over factory farming.
Some other resources!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXY584pT4zk&ab_channel=EzraKleinShow
https://80000hours.org/podcast/episodes/lewis-bollard-big-wins-against-factory-farming/
https://twitter.us14.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=66df320da8400b581cbc1b539&id=de632a3c62
