Photo by Joe Satran
When I was ten years old, I became a vegetarian. I knew what I was about. Growing up in Mississippi, I had seen the trucks that barreled down the highway shedding feathers, carrying chickens in cages that were obviously too small for any kind of movement. I had seen the huge cattle operations that lined the roads on the way to my grandmother's house. I was not down to eat anything that came out of any of that.
As I got older, my argument against meat became more sophisticated: It had to do with the economics of hunger and with the environmental impact of the meat industry in the U.S. I still don't want to support a system that uses such a huge percentage of farmland to produce meat products (a much less space-efficient way to produce food than growing vegetables, say) or that adds such a deep tread mark to our national greenhouse gas footprint.
"Finally," I thought. "Someone who's not raising vegetables talking about soil fertility!"But, last Tuesday, I was proud to be a meat eater again.
Once I moved to an area where sustainable meats and cheeses were available, I gradually began to incorporate those items back into my diet. I haven't been a complete vegetarian in two years. And last week, I got the chance to see an example of where and how the meat I now eat is raised when our Yale Farm summer interns and I drove up to Dom Palumbo's heritage livestock and poultry farm, Moon in the Pond in southern Massachusetts.
This farm was nothing like the sprawling, stinky operations I'd driven by as a child. Well, it was a little bit stinky. But other than that, the farm was a completely different beast.
As soon as we arrived, Dom walked us over to a giant compost heap. He talked about thinking in cycles, and about reinvesting nutrients into land you're taking them from. "Finally," I thought. "Someone who's not raising vegetables talking about soil fertility!"
From there, we looked at chicken tractors (hut-sized contraptions that encourage chicken to eat grass, poop, and scratch in a specific area), a new litter of piglets, oxen, ducklings, and sheep. All of them are heritage breeds, which means they are breeds that were raised before the rise of industrial agriculture. Many of the animals raised by the meat industry in the U.S. have been bred to enhance a certain feature, often at the expense of qualities that are crucial for the animal to survive outside of the context of a confinement operation.
One of the saddest examples of this is the large-breasted white turkey, whose breasts have been bred to be so large and whose legs have been bred to be so short that it cannot stand. It also can't procreate: because of their large breasts and short legs, the males can't mount the females. Every large-breasted white turkey you've ever eaten was the product of artificial insemination. In the last 15 years, 190 breeds of farm animals have gone extinct. But Dom raises turkeys that have long legs to keep them high off the ground as they run around.
Dom cares a heapload about preserving the genetic diversity of hens, ducks, pigs, and cows, but he's the most passionate about preserving something else: farmers. When he's not working at Moon in the Pond, he's looking to find ways to help other people get started doing the same thing. He always has at least one apprentice on hand, and he welcomes visitors.
Our interns and I learned about heritage breeds and about agricultural land trusts. We're not just losing the breeds that make sustainable meat production possible, we're also losing the knowledge of how to raise them. Dom would say we need to invest in rural communities, both by supporting them and by joining them. I say, in order to fix the food system, we don't just need to eat sustainable products. We need to grow them.
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Dear Atlantic,
We might come from different planets? On my planet there is a problem that nobody perceives seriously. Offering a solution at this point is a useless hobby for some rich pensioners. If somebody does not know or does not believe that smoking causes cancer - there is no point in telling her about the benefits of not smoking?
In this context - allow me to be a tad satiric.
Thank you, Atlantic & Co, so much for you unbiased and guilt-free reporting. The mainstream media usually shows and discusses 100 happy freerange pigs before showing one unhappy animal. I believe that The Atlantic has reached a ratio of 80 to 1 - which is 20% better. It is a pity that 95% of all animals cannot move around however and I would love for you to show the truth at some point and not just mention it as a side note that everybody knows about anyway? They don't. How about "reality" if you prefer that term to "truth"?
After all - what the world really needs is for more vegetarians to start eating sustainable meat and not for meat eaters to reduce unsustainable meat, right? Right?
By the way - what is is the definition of sustainable meat with 7 billion people on the planet other than 'oxymoron'? The Union for Concerned Scientists and the World Watch Institute both claim that when it comes to red meat - pigs and cattle - there is no sustainability with 7 billion people already on the planet.
In this context - the question of what do you produce and consume comes always before the question of how - at least when we are discussing the environment. World Watch Quote:
Meat per se is not sustainable and in contrast to vegetables the problem is not the way it was produced.
But moving from the ecology to ethics...
This is what an animal rights activist would read above:
A Cotton Farm an Abolitionist Could Love
Written ca 1820 in the South.
When I was ten years old, I became anti-slavery. I knew what I was about. Growing up in Mississippi, I had seen the trucks that barreled down the highway shedding hair and blood, carrying chained blacks that were obviously restrictive for any kind of movement. I had seen the huge cotton operations that lined the roads on the way to my grandmother's house. I was not down to wear anything that came out of any of that.
As I got older, my argument against slavery became more sophisticated: It had to do with the economics of slavery and with the economic impact of the slave industry in the U.S. I still don't want to support a system that uses such a huge percentage of salves to produce products (a much less economic way than having free agents instead of slaves - only the slave owner benefit from slavery but the masses and the country loses).
But, last Tuesday, I was proud to be a slave owner and user again.
Once I moved to an area where sustainable numbers of slaves were used, I gradually began to incorporate those services back back into my life-style. I haven't been a complete abolitionist in two years. And last week, I got the chance to see an example of where and how the slaves I now deploy are raised when our Yale Farm summer interns and I drove up to Dom Palumbo's heritage cotton farm.
This farm was nothing like the sprawling, stinky operations I'd driven by as a child. Well, it was a little bit stinky. But other than that, the farm was a completely different beast.
As soon as we arrived, Dom walked us over to a giant compost heap. He talked about thinking in cycles, and about feeding slaves with good nutrients so that they can give back more. "Finally," I thought. "Someone who's not raising animals but slaves talking about health, free markets and productivity!"
From there, we looked at the huts of the Malis (hut-sized contraptions that encourage Malis to eat, poop, and scratch in a specific area), a new birth of Segou, Songhai, slaves from Bornu and Nigeria. All of them are heritage breeds, which means they are breeds that were raised before the rise of industrial slavery and before the Atlantic crossing from Africa or the Middle East. Many of the slaves raised by the cotton industry in the U.S. have been bred to enhance a certain feature, often at the expense of qualities that are crucial for the slave to survive outside of the context of a confinement operation.
One of the saddest examples of this is the large-breasted Somali, whose breasts have been bred to be so large and whose legs have been bred to be so short that it cannot stand. It also can't procreate because not woman would mate with it. Every large-breasted Somali we have ever deployed was the product of artificial rape.
Dom cares a heapload about preserving the genetic diversity of Somalis, Malis, Ethiopians and Eritrea, but he's the most passionate about preserving something else: cotton farmers. When he's not working at Moon in the Pond, he's looking to find ways to help other whites get started doing the same thing. He always has at least one apprentice on hand, and he welcomes visitors.
Our interns and I learned about heritage breeds and about agricultural land trusts. We're not just losing the breeds that make sustainable slavery possible, we're also losing the knowledge of how to raise them. Dom would say we need to invest in rural communities, both by supporting them and by joining them. I say, in order to fix the system, we don't just need to consume sustainable products. We need to breed them.
I forgot to add this link from Foreign Policy: Meat: the slavery of our time