You might assume that all of us in the natural foods industry are vegetarians, or maybe you know better. Or maybe, like my friend B., you only shop at the health food store when you absolutely have to, precisely because you aren’t a vegetarian and tire, as B. does, of being looked down on by the clerks when you purchase meat. You might appreciate all the arguments in favor of meatless diets, but still, like me, find yourself attracted to animal foods. Or maybe you’re vegan, choosing to give up all animal foods, like my friend W., who long ago decided not to be a part of the cycle of suffering that meat eating perpetuates. To say I fall somewhere between W. and B. might be obvious; nevertheless, my anxiety over how we’ll all come to terms with the effects of our daily decisions — and each other — continues. To me, W. represents where we need to be, while B. represents where most of us really are. How do I bridge that gap? Because I am still a hypocritical, guilt-ridden meat eater, I feel faintly foolish discussing the evils of animal foods. Yet, from my experience in natural foods, I know that the majority of Americans are quite unaware of the true price of their decisions. They may suspect that all is not rosy behind the lovely pastoral setting on the label of their skinless chicken breasts, but be reluctant to look into how that food was produced or what it might really contain. But to pretend our food choices don’t matter is a particularly unworthy stance; just because we ignore the realities doesn’t make them go away. So let’s take a quick look at why a diet high in animal foods is devastating not just to the animal kingdom, but to our health and our planet, too. One note: If you haven’t ever looked into the daily ritual performed en masse for millions of farm animals, brace yourself. The conditions are horrific whether you are a confirmed animal lover or not. Factory farming, as livestock production is now called, is a big, ugly business where the overcrowding of animals is a means of increasing profit. Laying hens are usually packed in cages measuring roughly one foot square, often with their feet wired to the bottom of the cage. Stacked by the thousands, the cages offer no escape from the schedule of forced laying, forced molting, and forced starvation designed to maximize egg output. Their agitation and panic can become so intense that they bite off their own feet in an effort to free themselves, or peck at each other through the wires. Because of this tendency, their beaks are routinely cut off without anesthetics. Dairy cows, pregnant an average of ten months a year, are given hormones to induce or prolong lactation. Production does increase, but at the expense of the cows, who suffer from anxiety, exhaustion, infected udders, and numerous other health problems. To counteract this, antibiotics are added to their feed along with the hormones. Over the course of years, they are literally worked to death to support our appetite for cheese, milk, butter, and ice cream. When they are no longer productive, their carcasses are ground up and used to feed more cows, a practice now linked to mad cow disease. Pigs are separated from their mothers around three weeks of age and are taken to fattening pens where, housed concentration camp-style, they are so crammed together they cannot move, sit, or lie down. Their suffering is so great that millions die every year before they even reach the slaughterhouse. Finally, all of these animals must endure the sounds of their brethren in the moments before death, often administered while the animal is fully conscious. It is common for cows to be strung upside down and gutted while still alive, their agony resounding from the walls of the slaughterhouse. The vibration of terror they emanate is said by many sages to be taken on by those who later eat them. Then there are the health risks. If you are eating commercially grown animal foods of any kind, you are ingesting numerous hormones, antibiotics, steroids, and pesticides that can’t be washed away with any amount of scrubbing. These harmful substances are systemically incorporated into an animal’s flesh and passed on to consumers. Meat is especially good at transporting these substances because most toxins, being fat-soluble, are stored in fatty tissue. The higher you eat on the food chain, the greater the residue of toxins in your organs and tissues. Sadly, animal suffering and toxic overload aren’t the only consequences of rich dietary habits. Scientific studies continue to confirm that diets high in animal foods and low in fruits and vegetables, coupled with a sedentary lifestyle, lead to degenerative conditions like heart disease, stroke, cancer, and bowel disorders. Let’s face it: carrots and celery don’t clog arteries. It is almost always the long-term dependence on meat, cheese, milk, and eggs — all devoid of the fiber we need in large amounts every day — that accounts for the coated intestinal tracts, stagnant livers, and brain fog that many of us assume is an inevitable result of aging. Even if the meat on your plate is from a happy steer that munched on organic grass his whole life and died of old age, there is still a heavy price to be paid by the environment. For instance, most people don’t realize it takes roughly 600 gallons of water to produce one pound of beef! This includes water used by livestock for drinking, plus that needed to water crops grown to feed them. If irrigation is needed, that figure can increase up to three times. Perhaps the greatest threat of all is the massive contamination of groundwater that routinely occurs when the waste products of livestock animals are stored in lagoons or sprayed directly back onto the fields where crops are grown, both common, unregulated practices. The lagoons are typically overloaded, and leaching of fecal matter into the ground has led to another alarming problem: the chemical, fertilizer, and waste pollutants have become a breeding ground for virulent pathogens that thrive in the chemical soup created when livestock are mass-produced. This blatant disregard for our water sources renders lifeless vital elements of the aquatic ecosystem needed to perpetuate the cycles of life shared by humans, plants and animals. Oceans are rising, our groundwater is contaminated, millions starve annually, and eating too well kills us. What hubris causes me to eat meat at all? It may seem an inadequate excuse, but meat is comforting for many of us. Perhaps we associate a nice chicken dinner with home and security; I admit I do. But is the craving physical or psychological or both? Why does meat sometimes satisfy when nothing else will do? In his book Healing with Whole Foods, author Paul Pitchford says it best: "The similar structures of animal and human cells make possible the quick exchange of energy and nutrients that gives many meat eaters a certain sense of being well-nurtured, without which they feel deprived. Rather than consisting of just protein, this exchange is in reality the emotional and physical sense of having consumed a large concentration of minerals, vitamins, enzymes, fatty acids, amino acids, sugars, and other nutrients. The initial experience is short-lived, because only a certain portion of meat is digestible." There it is: eating meat makes us feel good, fast. What if we completely abandoned killing for food, instead eating entirely from the plant kingdom? What would the world be like? By their nature, animal foods tend to be more yang, enhancing qualities of direction and focus when eaten in moderation, but feeding aggression when used excessively. Isn’t that exactly what’s wrong with our culture? Wouldn’t it drastically reduce the hostility and anxiety that characterize post-modern life if we collectively adopted a "cruelty-free" dietary path? Surely the coming paradigm shift away from outmoded patriarchal values will be accompanied by a correlating evolution in our attitudes about eating other sentient beings. Because I know all of these things, and yet because I am human, I walk a fine line between knowing the truth and living it. I desire both to live in peace with other living creatures and to feed my hunger. I don’t want to be responsible for even one more death, but I also have a deep need to accept myself as I am at this moment. I don’t want to die of heart disease, I don’t want to be a cow in my next life, and I know I’m not living my highest if I feed my every whim. Am I destined to feel guilt with every mouthful until I finally give up all animal foods? Is it more important to take on the painful work of breaking my addiction to meat, or to accept my fallibility? I don’t want to pretend to be more evolved than I am. As I’ve matured, I’ve learned that the more I accept myself as I truly am, the freer I am to change. Today I eat a third of the meat I did twenty years ago. Perhaps one day I’ll give it up entirely, but I don’t think that’s the only point. Did I speak kindly today? Was my heart open? Did I allow those different from me to have their say, make their choices, live as they feel they must? Or did I behave haughtily, looking down on the hungry masses queuing up at McDonalds? My own child might be in that crowd, or a hungry man in a hurry who might be just about to stumble onto a truth that will transform all our lives. Judging them for something I occasionally do myself can’t be the answer. Blessing them, however, may be. For in them, I see myself. In the meantime, I’ll make sure most of my diet is plant-based, and when I do eat the occasional ham sandwich, I will revel in it, chewing it slowly and in awe of the sacrifice made by others so that I might live. The author wishes to acknowledge Earthsave as the resource for much of the research cited here. For more information on factory farming, go to <http://www.earthsave.com/> or read John Robbins’ classic book Diet for a New America. Lori Lively is Education and Special Events Director at Marlene’s Market & Deli stores in Federal Way and Tacoma. She is available for speaking engagements and publications at <mojolively@home.com> or (253) 564-1668. |
I just finished most of a ham, cream cheese, and pineapple sandwich. What am I doing writing a column on food and spirituality? I just broke every covenant of my own personal nutrition code! Or did I?