The Case for Compassionate Conservatism –for Animals
By Matthew Scully
A few years ago, I began a book about cruelty to animals and about factory farming in particular; problems that had been in the back of my mind for a long while. At the time, I viewed factory farming as one of the lesser problems facing humanity – a small wrong on the grand scale of good and evil. By the time I finished the book, I had come to view the abuses of industrial farming as a serious moral problem, a truly rotten business. Little wrongs, when left unattended, can grow and spread to become grave wrongs, and precisely this had happened on our factory farms.

The result of these ruminations was Dominion: The Power of Man, the Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy. And though my tome never quite hit the bestseller lists, there ought to be some special literary prize for a work highly recommended in both the Wall Street Journal and Vegetarian Teen. When you enjoy the accolades of PETA, George Will and Policy Review, Deepak Chopra and Gordon Liddy, Peter Singer and Charles Colson, you can at least take comfort in the diversity of your readership.

The book provides an occasion for fellow conservatives to examine animal cruelty issues on the merits. Conservatives have a way of dismissing the subject, in part based on their dislike of certain animal-rights groups. It is assumed that animal-protection causes are a project of the Left, and that the proper conservative position is to stand warily and firmly against them.

I had a hunch that the problem was largely one of presentation and that if fellow conservatives saw their own principles applied to animal-welfare issues, they would find plenty of reasons to be appalled and support reasonable remedies. Conservatives, after all, aren’t shy about discoursing on moral standards or reluctant to translate the most basic of these into law. Setting aside the distracting rhetoric of animal rights, that’s usually what these questions come down to: What moral standards should guide us in our treatment of animals, and when must those standards be applied in law?

We don’t need novel theories of rights to do this. The usual distinctions that conservatives draw between moderation and excess, freedom and license, moral goods and material goods, rightful power and the abuse of power, will all do just fine. Treating animals decently is like most obligations we face, somewhere between the most and the least important, a modest but essential requirement to living with integrity.

A certain moral relativism runs through the arguments of those hostile or indifferent to animal welfare – as if animals can be of value only for our sake. In practice, this outlook leaves each person to decide for himself when animals rate moral concern. It even allows us to accept or reject established facts about animals, such as their cognitive and emotional capacities and their conscious experience of pain and happiness.

There is a disconnect here: Elsewhere in contemporary debates, conservatives consistently oppose moral relativism by pointing out that, like it or not, we are all dealing with the same set of physiological realities and moral truths. We don’t each get to decide the facts of science on a situational basis. We do not each go about bestowing moral value upon things as it pleases us in the moment. We do not decide moral truth at all: We discern it.

Likewise, the great virtue of conservatism is that it begins with a realistic assessment of human motivations. We know man as he is, not only the rational creature, but also, as Socrates told us, the rationalizing creature, with a knack for finding an angle, an excuse and a euphemism. Whether it’s the pornographer who thinks himself a free-speech champion or the abortionist who looks in the mirror and sees a reproductive health care services provider, conservatives are familiar with the type.

So we should not be surprised that these very same capacities are at work in the $125 billion-a-year U.S. livestock industry. The human mind, especially when there is money to be had, can manufacture grand excuses for the exploitation of human beings. How much easier it is for people to excuse the wrongs done to lowly animals. Corporate farmers hardly speak anymore of “raising” animals, with the modicum of personal care that word implies. Animals are now “grown.” Barns became “intensive confinement facilities” and the inhabitants “production units.”

The result is a world in which billions of birds, cows, pigs and other creatures are locked away, enduring miseries they do not deserve for our convenience and pleasure. We belittle the activists with their radical agenda, scarcely noticing the radical cruelty they seek to redress.

At the Smithfield Foods mass-confinement hog farms I toured in North Carolina, the visitor is greeted by a bedlam of squealing, chain rattling and horrible roaring. Creatures are encased row after row, 400- to 500-pound mammals trapped without relief inside iron crates about six feet long and less than two feet wide. They chew maniacally on bars and chains, as foraging animals will do when denied straw, or engage in stereotypical nest-building with straw that isn’t there, or just lie there like broken beings.

Everything about the picture shows bad faith, moral sloth and endless excuse-making. We’re told that they’re just pigs – or cows or chickens or whatever – and that only urbanites worry about such things, estranged as they are from the realities of rural life. Actually, all of factory farming proceeds by a massive denial of reality – the reality that animals are living creatures with natures and needs. The very modesty of those needs – their humble desires for straw, soil, sunshine – is the gravest indictment of the men who deny them.

Conservatives are supposed to revere tradition. Factory farming has no traditions. The whole thing is an abandonment of rural values and a betrayal of honorable animal husbandry – to say nothing of veterinary medicine, with its sworn oath to “protect animal health” and “relieve animal suffering.”

For the religious-minded, and Catholics in particular, no less an authority than Pope Benedict XVI has explained the spiritual stakes. Asked recently to weigh in on these very questions, then-Cardinal Ratzinger told German journalist Peter Seewald that animals must be respected as our “companions in creation.” While it is licit to use them for food, “We cannot just do whatever we want with them... This degrading of living creatures to a commodity seems to me, in fact, to contradict the relationship of mutuality that comes across in the Bible.”

If reason and morality are what set human beings apart from animals, then reason and morality must always guide us in how we treat them. When people say that they like their pork chops, veal or foie gras too much to give them up, reason hears in that the voice of gluttony, willfulness or, at best, moral compliance. What makes a human being human is precisely the ability to understand that the suffering of an animal is more important than the taste of a treat.

Factory farmers assure us that this is an inevitable stage of industrial efficiency. Leave aside the obvious reply that we could all do a lot of things in life more efficiently if we didn’t have to trouble ourselves with ethical restraints. Leave aside, too, the tens of billions of dollars in annual federal subsidies that have helped megafarms undermine small family farms and the decent communities that once surrounded them (and to give us the illusion of cheap products). And never mind the collateral damage to land, water and air that factory farms cause and the billions of dollars it costs taxpayers to clean up after them. Factory farming is a predatory enterprise, absorbing profit and externalizing costs, unnaturally propped up by political influence and government subsidies much as factory-farmed animals are unnaturally sustained by hormones and antibiotics.


So it shouldn’t be surprising that every conservative who reviewed my book conceded that factory farming is a wretched business and a betrayal of human responsibility. And having granted that certain practices are abusive, cruel and wrong, we must be prepared to do something about them.

Americans, conservatives and liberals, need to start by confronting such groups as Smithfield Foods (my candidate for the worst corporation in America in its ruthlessness to people and animals alike), the U.S. National Pork Producers Council (a reliable Republican contributor) and the various think tanks in Washington subsidized by animal-use industries for intellectual cover.

If such matters were ever brought to President Bush’s attention in a serious way, he would find in the details of factory farming many things abhorrent to the Christian heart and to his own kindly instincts. Even if he and other world leaders were to drop into relevant speeches a few of the prohibited words in modern industrial agriculture (cruel, humane, compassionate), instead of endlessly flattering corporate farmers for virtues they lack, that alone would help set reforms in motion.

The law that’s needed would apply to corporate farmers a few simple rules that better men would have been observing all along: We cannot just take from these creatures; we must give them something in return.

We owe them a merciful death and a merciful life. And when human beings cannot do something humanely, without degrading both the creatures and ourselves, then we shouldn’t do it at all.