je suis cecil

pig cratesSocial media outrage can reach such a pitch that mainstream media pick up the story. This is what has happened with the story of another trophy hunter, someone who paid more than twice the average salary in the UK to go and hunt a lion, kill him, skin him and behead him. I imagine it is not easy hunting a lion, but the skill of this is surely diminished since this lion was baited, i.e. tempted into an area that would make him an easy target. Male lions are majestic creatures and this lion bore a human-given name as he was a familiar inhabitant of a National Park in Zimbabwe and one of the subjects of an Oxford University research project.

A similar wave of outrage swept through social media in April this year at the offensive photographs trophy hunters publish on social media sites. Typically they stand or squat victorious over their prey, shiny weapons and shiny smiles on display. At the time, I made reference to the Tory government’s push to repeal the Hunting Act in the UK which would legalise once more the hunting of foxes with packs of hounds and their retinue of scarlet and black coated hunters on thundering horses. All this under the guise of ‘vermin’ control while video footage circulates strongly suggesting foxes are being bred for hunting, as well as showing fox baiting activities.

A commonplace fox does not have the stature of a lion so the outrage does not swell globally, but swell it does because there is something in the human ‘spirit’ that is outraged by cruelty to animals. When you look into the eyes of another animal an un-namebale connection is made. It is not dissimilar to the connection we make through eye contact with each other, something arrests us in that moment as we share the magnitude and intimacy of actually being alive, awake and aware.

Interestingly, somewhere along the line, the animals raised for eating are removed from our view, we not only never look them in the eye, we rarely see them in the fields around us. The food on display in the supermarket is called meat not animal, and there is no imagery on the packaging that relates the body parts to a whole creature, like the ones we remember from our childhood picture books. This is because these animals are usually bred and raised in huge, huge numbers in factory farms, living short and tortuous lives, the sight of which is somehow deemed unfit for human consumption. (Aside: in certain US states it is now illegal to take photographs or make video footage of the conditions inside factory farms as these firms are “private”, and whistle-blowers will face prosecution.)

I am utterly convinced, however, that the vast majority of humans would not be able to bear witness, not be able to hold eye contact with any of these animals, without it touching their hearts and minds, without it impacting the way they choose to eat and live. It might not be an overnight sweeping change, perhaps like me it is a one day at a time effort, even a one meal at a time effort, but collectively we make a big difference to the animals and to the wider environment affected by these farming methods. This is why I chose the title for this piece: je suis Cecil, with all due respect to those affected by the events in Paris in January of this year, to name a connectedness and shared responsibility to all living things however majestic, however commonplace.

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Image via farmsnotfactories.org, shows pig crates. About only 1/4 of pork produced and eaten in the UK comes from outdoor farms. Nearly 70% is imported from farms outside the UK with standards not permitted in the UK.

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