The PETA Principle

Just as the floodwaters are abating in New Orleans, so has the degree of morbid fascination with the disaster and its aftermath, but not so much that related news reports have not dominated the Nielsen ratings, even outpolling the summer's earlier obsession, "Dancing with the Stars." I continued to watch my share of news coverage but found that while I could tolerate the footage of struggling evacuees and destitute regional homeowners I had to turn away from stories involving the plight of abandoned pets and other helpless animals. The picture of a starving dog atop one of the rooves was simply too much to bear.

So I begin to question the odd priority that allows me to endure pictures of human misery but not that of "dumb" animals. I'm not alone in this; perhaps it's simply the understanding that humans have the resources (even with a mismanaged FEMA) to cope with and eventually recover from the catastrophe, but animals, who are at least as benign as people, do not. Also there is the empathy I feel for pet owners who had to leave their charges behind, to a likely death. I appreciate completely the reluctance of those few stragglers whom the National Guard have been trying to pry out of the deluged areas who refuse to go because it would mean abandoning their pets. I discussed this with members of my poker table, almost all of whom are dog owners, and there was unanimous agreement that forsaking our dogs in an emergency would be simply unthinkable. Fortunately my dog is little and I could secret her and her foodstuffs among my belongings if disaster hit my neck of the woods (as Al Qaeda and the San Andreas Fault are both threatening).

The preferential treatment we give our pets does not stem from practical considerations at all. Frankly I can't see how a large convention center could accommodate all the animals that would be involved in a mass evacuation, so humans can expect to receive the lion's share (pun intended) of resources. That is the rational approach. I am speaking, for a change, from emotion, which as we've learned from politics and religion, is usually more powerful and persuasive. But this is not the only arena where the interests of humans and their beloved charges could conflict. The relationship of humans and animals has become shakier as we have "progressed" and developed needs that range from food provision to medical experimentation. And this is where the concepts of humaneness, practicality, ethics and natural selection all coincide to create a checkerboard of conflicting priorities.

This is best illustrated in the emergence of PETA, the advocacy group for animal rights, whose acronym stands for "People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals." The "ethical" treatment of animals is a very subjective term for there have been few historical laws, religious or secular, to establish the boundaries of appropriate behavior between species. The laws of natural selection somewhat demand necessary fatal interrelationships that constitute what we call "The Food Chain." PETA wants to eliminate animals as part of the human food chain, which may or may not be useful biologically, for it's not certain whether we are naturally carnivorous, herbivorous, or omnivorous. Their aim is (perhaps) laudable but certainly impractical and arrogant. I respect vegetarianism but am not a vegan myself; I enjoy meat, chicken and fish but wear those convenient blinders that keep me from visiting slaughterhouses or chicken farms. I could probably live with substitutes for the leather clothes and goods I use, but do not feel pangs of guilt when I finger a snazzy new wallet or one of those fine-smelling jackets at the mall.

Over this last weekend there was a local convention of PETA, in which the major topic was the evil of animal experimentation for medical advances. As loud as that campaign was expressed, an equally vocal cadre of scientist and medical personnel counterdemonstrated and urged to public to consider the ultimate benefits of animal testing--not just for humans, but for pets as well. This was a good point, but probably eluded the rats with gigantic tumors embedded in their guts. I think by now we can all agree that dropping poison into a bunny rabbit's eyes to test perfume tolerance is over the top; but if trials of insulin substitutes can help prevent the detrimental effects of adult-onset diabetes, it's hard to argue about the ruthlessness of the process.

I admit to understanding both sides of the argument and succumbing to the hypocrisy of agreeing with both viewpoints. Nor am I troubled by it, because I know that I am a fundamentally humane person who hates to swat a fly and allows all spiders cohabiting my condo to go with their merry lives (of consuming other less appealing insect species). I think most of the PETA contingent are well-meaning idealogues perhaps a little less aware of their own inconsistencies. Still, there is a note of progress in their ascendence, as it's useful for humans to realize that we are, for better or worse, the dominant species among so many others, and have a certain moral responsibility that goes along with that dominion.