A farm boy reflects on animal rights

The Dallas Morning News - Saturday August 2, 2008

BY NICHOLAS KRISTOF

In a world in which animal rights are gaining ground, barbecue season should make me feel guilty. My hunch is that in a century or two, our descendants will look back on our factory farms with uncomprehending revulsion. But in the meantime, I love a good burger.

This comes up because the most important election this November that you've never heard of is a referendum on animal rights in California, the vanguard state for social movements. Proposition 2 would ban factory farms from raising chickens, calves or hogs in small pens or cages.

Livestock rights are already enshrined in the law in Florida, Arizona, Colorado and here in Oregon, but California's referendum would go further and would be a major gain for the animal rights movement. And it's part of a broader trend. Burger King announced last year that it would give preference to suppliers that treat animals better, and when a hamburger empire expostulates tenderly about the living conditions of cattle, you know public attitudes are changing.

I'm a farm boy who grew up here in the hills outside Yamhill, Ore., raising sheep for my FFA and 4-H projects. At various times, my family also raised modest numbers of pigs, cattle, goats, chickens and geese, although they were never tightly confined.

Our cattle, sheep, chickens and goats certainly had individual personalities, but not such interesting ones that it bothered me that they might end up in a stew. Pigs were more troubling because of their unforgettable characters and obvious intelligence.

Then there were the geese, the most admirable creatures I've ever met. We raised Chinese white geese, a common breed, and they have distinctive personalities. They mate for life and adhere to family values that would shame most of those who dine on them. While one of our geese was sitting on her eggs, her gander would go out foraging for food - and if he found some delicacy, he would rush back to give it to his mate.

Once a month or so, we would slaughter the geese. When I was 10 years old, my job was to lock them in the barn and then rush and grab one. Then I would take it out and hold it by its wings on the chopping block while my dad or someone else swung the ax.

The 150 geese knew that something dreadful was happening and would cower in a far corner and run away in terror as I approached. Then I would grab one and carry it away as it screeched and struggled in my arms.

Very often, one goose would bravely step away from the panicked flock and walk tremulously toward me. It would be the mate of the one I had caught, male or female, and it would step right up to me, frightened out of its wits, but still determined to stand with and comfort its lover.

We eventually grew so impressed with our geese - they had virtually become family friends - that we gave the remaining ones to a local park. (Unfortunately, some entrepreneurial thief took advantage of their friendliness by kidnapping them all - just before the next Thanksgiving.)

So, yes, I eat meat (even, hesitantly, goose). But I draw the line at animals being raised in cruel conditions. The law punishes teenage boys who tie up and abuse a stray cat. So why allow industrialists to run factory farms that keep pigs almost all their lives in tiny pens that are barely bigger than they are?

Defining what is cruel is, of course, extraordinarily difficult. But penning pigs or veal calves so tightly that they cannot turn around seems to cross that line.

More broadly, the tide of history is moving toward the protection of animal rights, and the brutal conditions in which they are sometimes now raised will eventually be banned. Some day, vegetarianism may even be the norm.

Nicholas Kristof is a New York Times columnist.