Meaty Issues

Since picking up Jim Mason’s and Peter Singer’s The Ethics of what we Eat a little over a month ago, it seems that all my reading for this month has in some way or another been circling this issue of ethical eating.

To be honest Singer and co’s book is not really my usual cup of tea. Consider it a failing or narrowness in my literary habits, but I don’t usually read books about food, health, agricultural practises, animal welfare, or environmental politics etc. Singer’s book also has the unfortunate distinction of having also attracted considerable noise since its publication, which I have to admit also tends to turn me off a book, at least until all the fuss has died down. However, after a number of trusted sources extolled the virtues of this book and implored me to read it with a zealousness that I haven’t seen since the anniversary edition of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was released, I relented and decided it would do me good to expand my horizons. Whilst I’ve not completely finished the book yet, to say that this book has indeed expanded my horizons would be the understatement of the week! Exploded my little brain out of my skull, shifted my daily life off its axis would perhaps be a more accurate statement!

To cut to the chase, for me at least, this book is rather confronting stuff. I can honestly say that I’ve never had a book make me physically ill before. To those of you not familiar with the book (yet!), The Ethics of what we eat traces the food choices of three disparate American families; the standard American diet family, the health conscious but convenience food reliant family and the vegan family, from farm to table, turning the magnifying glass on the food production industry and processes and exploring the ethical questions that surround it.

I’m not really going to go into any detail with descriptions of any of the practises or processes detailed in the book, mostly because I’m still traumatised from reading them and thus don’t really want to type them out, but also because if I’ve even slightly managed to pique your interest/macabre fascination then you really should read it for yourself. However I will say that whilst Singer is an elegant writer, he doesn’t spare you the gritty details (I will never be able to look at a roast chook again without thinking of their poor beaks), and to those who write off what Singer has to say as nothing more than dystopian hyperbole (this means you conservative critics), I think you are very wrong and I’m wondering what alternate universe you are currently existing in.

Now for a bit of context.  I’d have to say that I wouldn’t consider myself as someone who is easily shocked. I grew up on farms. I’ve seen animals being put down, I’ve seen museling, and I’ve seen the devastating results of leaving the gate to the chicken coop open overnight, yet my current record for consecutive pages read without feeling ill currently stands at eleven. Perhaps my heightened sensitivity to such issues is a result of my increased reading in philosophy, perhaps it’s Singer’s cogent argument, or perhaps it’s simply the dawning realisation that at every meal I am helping perpetuate the mutilation, suffering and frankly abhorrent farming practises rife throughout many western societies. I’ve always kind of assumed in a hazy vague kind of way, that the food industry had its dodgy elements and that yes a fair amount of ‘bad stuff’ was going down. But there is a chasm of difference between a hazy idea and the meticulous details of everyday agricultural practises. After reading what Singer and Mason describe I find myself gobsmacked at my own naivety. I had no idea how endemic and shocking a lot of industry practises are, and feel sickened that at the end of the day, it is ultimately my consumer demand that allows these practises to perpetuate.  Clearly I’m a little slow on the uptake, but making that link between my consumer choices and lets call a spade a spade, my greed, and these practises really did my head in.

A couple of days later, needing a little respite from Singer’s relentless horrors, (The horror! The horror!) I started reading A. C Grayling’s The Reason of Things which is a collection of absolutely marvellous philosophical essays covering all the big questions of an examined life; ethics, morality, sex, marriage, justice, war, luxury etc. etc. As I settled in for a read, on a whim I decided to eschew the order of the book and just start reading it from wherever (I know, I’m such a rebel!). So I cracked the cover in a random spot and turned my eyes downward to the page only to be greeted by the single word Meat staring boldly back up at me. Of all the essays I could have opened this book on, I opened it up to Grayling’s philosophising on the ethics meat consumption! Ok universe, yes I’m listening. Grayling’s take on the issue of meat consumption I must admit kind of threw me. For whilst he predictably advances the moral argument against killing sentient creatures for our pleasure, he also throws in this very curious argument that for what I understand, is suggesting that we should abstain from consuming meat because of its lack of ‘freshness’. Grayling writes:

” It is prudent to take the health argument seriously. We do not eat ‘fresh’ meat, we eat carrion, for the former would be stiff with rigor mortis, and meat only becomes soft enough to cook and eat once it has begun to rot. We like our games especially rotten, which is why we leave it hanging for days so that the microbes swarming in it can do their work. Microbes are the meat-eaters friend; without them there could be no tender steak, no juicy roast, no tasty chop or rib. To see how they work, put a dead mouse in the garden and watch what happens. The little corpse decomposes with such fury that it seems to be wriggling and trying to run away, such is the pullulating mass of microbes consuming it within…Everything is finished off by bacteria, which in ten hours multiply from 100 to 100 million. They are present in these numbers on the meat in your kitchen; they eat your meat as they ate the mouse, and since everything must defecate, it is their lack of toilet training that gives exposed meat its gamey aroma.”

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t see that one coming. I’d like to thank Mr Grayling for ensuring that the mental image of microbes swarming all over my (rotted) steak will be burned into my memory for eternity! Both these books left me feeling disconbobulated and questioning my values and lifestyle choices. And its quite a new thing for me to have such a powerful visceral response to something I’ve read. If Singer’s book left me tottering on the edge of veganism, its safe to say that Graylings biochemistry lesson pushed me across the line in emphatic fashion, and impelled me to start making some changes, the first of which is to start moving towards a vegan diet.

I’m under no illusions as to how hard this is going to be, it will be challenging and I could pretty easily come up with a number of excuses to not do it, but perhaps its time I stopped apologising for my politics and stood my ground. Having said that, I still have a lot of worries. I’m worried I’m not going to maintain my body’s nutritional requirements, especially as I play an awful lot of sport, I’m worried that I’m going to struggle to find the food stuff I need and I’m a little worried about how my friends are going to react. All of which I figure is completely normal at this point. I’m clearly going to have to learn to cook as that’s not really been my forte in the past (Lesson one: toasting is not cooking), and my reliance on takeaway food will obviously have to desist. But nonetheless I’m feeling positive about the change.

I must admit that a great deal of my anxiety also eased after a rather fruitful stint of recon at my local Borders, yielded Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero’s Vegan with a Vengeance and Veganomicon. All I can say is where have these titles been all my life? I think they are magic! Not only do they make eating a vegan diet not only infinitely achievable and possibly enjoyable, but they also make it appear so normal and everyday, it goes some of the way to shattering the cliché that veganism is only the domain of dope smoking hippies. These girls have spunk and great tattoos and I like it. I also like their have-a-crack attitude, the fact measurements are included in metric (praise the lord) and that none of the meals in here require a food chemistry degree or Swiss bank account to prepare, which for a cooking retard like me is refreshing and encouraging. Moreover the recipes in are so varied and damn tasty that I’d wager than many a non-vegan would love this book as well. In fact both the non-vegans (henceforth known as ‘fleshmunchers’) that I’ve feed using this cookbook have both asked for the recipe, so there inner sceptic!

Anyway enough babbling and gushing. I will sign off from this rambling post with a reminder from A. C Grayling that ‘a person who does not think about life is like a stranger mapless in a foreign land’, and will endeavour to keep you all updated with tales from my own personal foreign land, the kitchen.

P.S. if any of you vego’s and vegans out their have any advice/tips/great recipes I’d love to hear them!