COVID-19 shows why we need to ‘cease and desist’ from commodifying animals
It’s a strange time in so many ways. A time when the capitalist foundations of our societies are shown to be rootless, hollow, and brittle, while our public services, increasingly derided and squeezed of funding by the neoliberalist dream emerge as saviors. Their solid roots have been reinvigorated by a rapid injection of financial and ideological support.
Perspectives have shifted and priorities altered as people come to grips with what is and isn’t important to their daily survival in this time. Health is of course number one. However, there is a quieter, creeping monster that looks set to cause extensive damage long after the virus has run its course, and it has its origins in our capitalist systems of value and the ideologies that serve them.
Put simply, these systems require that commodities return a profit on investment. Minimizing production costs while maximizing output are key to this equation. If production cannot be mechanized, then a cheap, highly productive labour force is essential. But to maintain high productivity those laboring bodies must also be easily replaceable and therefore expendable. This illustrates why ideologies like patriarchy, supremacism, colonialism, and human exceptionalism, make such perfect accompaniments to capitalist logic. They provide ready-made groups consisting of those whose lives are deemed of less value, and a smaller group who own them. What unites the former groups is their oppression and associated vulnerability under this system, with the latter being clearly demonstrated in the ongoing fallout of this pandemic.
A steady stream of quality journalism and opinion pieces from different parts of the world is already highlighting the plights of all those people quickly pushed to the edge after just a few weeks of economic disruption, as well as those who were already at the edge and risk disappearing. The group I wish to speak about here is nonhuman, specifically all commodified animals, in order to further emphasize, in big, bold, underlined letters, how the foundations of capitalism, and its complementary ideological bedfellows, can only result in loss, suffering, and early demise for the exploited majority of humans and nonhumans, and ultimately the reduction of habitable conditions on this planet.
Some readers may feel it’s insensitive to talk about the plight of animals at this time considering all the human hardship. However, it is important to understand that all human oppressions — whether based on ‘race’, ethnicity, gender, class, age, religion, ability or other perceived difference — operate through the same mechanisms. Human and nonhuman oppression cannot be treated separately. They serve the same masters and point to multidimensional mechanisms of exploitation and injustice that will always favour a self-appointed elite over an expendable majority. Vulnerability is a social phenomenon and what unites those designated usable is, as Aph Ko explains, “their citizenship of the space of the Other or the ‘subhuman’”.
‘Food’ animals comprise the largest group of commodifed animals, and much is being written about the connections between industrial animal agriculture and the emergence of COVID-19, as well as previous strains of SARS and avian flu viruses. It remains to be seen whether this pandemic will have any impact on the demand for meat, dairy, and other animal-based products. More than likely, the industry will circle the wagons and double-down with assurances of tighter regulations, increased transparency and accountability, and higher standards of welfare, sustainability, and environmental friendliness. History has shown that this and other industries that use animals can take massive PR hits and emerge sometimes a little bruised but largely unscathed. The golden rules of PR disaster management are widely used because they work. First, claim it was a one-off, random and isolated incident. Second, promise that measures will be taken to ensure it doesn’t happen again (staff fired, offending businesses closed, increased regulation). And, finally, emphasise that it is not reflective of the broader industry who may also, in a collective voice, express their disapproval of the incident in question. We can already see this happening with the demonization of China’s wet markets.
While the role of animal agriculture in destroying ecosystems, decreasing wildlife habitats, and creating new threats, including virus spillover, must be recognized (it is already sufficiently proven), my focus here is on another group of animals. Like many humans, they are being pushed to the edge by this economic disruption and will likely disappear in the course of the next few months. They currently reside in zoos, aquariums, safari parks, and private collections; in breeding facilities, stables, kennels and private premises that support racing industries; and in all kinds of tourist destinations. They are also held in university departments, veterinary schools, and in medical, educational, and research centres.
Their numbers are staggering. There are well over 2,000 large and medium sized zoos, safari parks, local ‘wildparks’, and aquariums across the world. The Association of Zoos and Aquariums has 238 accredited zoos in 12 countries, and estimates these facilities house approximately 800,000 animals. Extrapolating this for an additional 1800 zoos, that means there are more than 6 million animals living in conditions that rely on a paying public to sustain them. This excludes over 2500 specialist parks and small zoos, and all the animals being kept privately. In California alone (where private ownership of exotic animals is banned), more than 250,000 exotic animals are licensed to private owners, and as anyone who has watched Tiger King will know, there are more tigers in zoos or privately owned in the US (around 7,000) than there are living in the wild.
Undoubtedly, many facilities, and individuals, will be doing their best to ensure their captives remain healthy and alive. However, many, many more will simply be unable to obtain the food their animals require or retain the staff necessary to maintain their upkeep. If any need veterinary care, this is unlikely to be available. The result is that on top of the thousands of healthy animals that are regularly ‘management-euthanised’ (zoo-speak for culled) by accredited zoos every year due to being unwanted surplus or to maintain genetic integrity (estimated at 3,000 to 5,000 animals in Europe alone), this pandemic is likely to see the loss of many thousands more. Already, some zoos in the UK are coming to terms with the possibility of having to kill some ‘if not all’ of their animals or shut down permanently.
In less wealthy countries, without the welfare, charity, and other support systems we cling onto in the UK, the outlook for larger numbers of these animals is likely to be equally bleak. Yet the fact remains, as explained to me by Sam Threadgill of Freedom for Animals, that “without breeding and maintaining stocks of captive animals for people to look at, the animals wouldn’t be in this even more dire situation.”
Racehorses and greyhounds are another large group of animals whose welfare is tightly bound to the money that flows through their associated industries. Spokespersons for UK organisations that advocate on behalf of these animals have already expressed to me their serious concerns as the economic effects of the cancellation of events start to take hold. Anticipating a spike in welfare issues, with potential widespread culling of racing and breeding populations, campaign group Animal Aid has appealed to racing’s regulator, the British Horseracing Authority, for safeguards to be put in place to protect vulnerable horses. Given that the number of racehorses sent to abattoirs in Britain and Ireland doubled after the 2008–2009 financial crisis, and that, according to the IMF, the COVID-19 recession will be “way worse”, their concerns are well-founded. CAGED NW, meanwhile, has established an online appeal to fund free pet food for licensed greyhound owners and trainers.
Even before the pandemic, these animals are already at high risk in industries that rely on high throughput of productive bodies (i.e. large numbers of animals being born) to make them financially viable, with consequent over-supply and high annual ‘wastage’.
Again, the numbers are substantial. In any one year, there are over 24,000 horses in training in the UK and Ireland. Around 14,500 new foals are born each year (over two-thirds in Ireland), many of whom will never race. Reliable figures for any horses (not limited to thoroughbreds) slaughtered in the UK are extremely hard to come by. However, of approximately 7,000 officially slaughtered in Ireland each year and 5,000 unofficially slaughtered in the UK, many are known to be thoroughbreds (over 1,000 in the UK in 2011). In Australia, where a similar number of new foals (around 13,000) are born each year, a study found that more than a third of all racehorses annually become ‘wastage’. With over 100,000 new thoroughbred foals born each year worldwide servicing around 530 tracks, this means there are conservatively (i.e. officially) about 35,000 thoroughbreds being slaughtered every year.
Greyhounds fair just as badly. Based on data held by the Greyhound Board of Great Britain (GBGB), around 15,000 are registered to race on the UK’s 21 licensed tracks in any one year, and approximately 8,000 new pups are registered annually (CAGED NW). A 2019 investigation by Ireland’s public media service RTE into the Irish racing industry, which supplies over 80% of the dogs racing in the UK, found that, as in horseracing, over a third of those born were culled (around 6,000). At least another 200 registered tracks (not counting unregistered or ‘flapper’ tracks) operate around the world, including, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, the US, Mexico, Vietnam and China. Assuming similar levels of throughput and ‘wastage’ to support these enterprises, this puts the potential number of greyhounds being culled each year at around 66,000. While the greyhound industry seems to be on the decline in the UK, enthusiastic growth in overseas markets, especially in South America, Pakistan, and China, and investments in international streaming with the Bookmakers Afternoon Greyhound Service or BAGS, are sustaining a viable enough business for owners, trainers and of course breeders.
The figures for culled racehorses and greyhounds don’t include shortfalls in the numbers of foals and puppies born each year compared with those registered to race. Many animals that are born are simply untraceable — they disappear. For those that do make it onto the track, their careers typically last only 2–3 years before their performance drops to unprofitable levels. When they can no longer make money for their owners they will be ‘retired’ which can mean anything from rehoming, selling for breeding if their bloodlines are sufficiently valued, or killing, including for meat. Greyhounds are more easily disposed of, and RTE’s investigation uncovered how routinely greyhounds are shot, dumped in ditches, buried in back gardens or simply left with mutilations to remove their identifying tattoos.
This is the pre-COVID-19 situation for these animals. Kennel and stable fees are expensive, not to mention veterinary treatments. As priorities continue to shift, it will not be long until owners of racehorses and greyhounds everywhere, like zoo managers, will be forced to make ‘non-essential’ cuts. As Dene Stansall of Animal Aid explains, “As the current pandemic increases vulnerability, there will be little hope for the poor racecourse performers and the less than blue-blooded breeding animals and their offspring, all of whom face an uncertain future — while business at the abattoirs will see a boom in trade.”
Cases of extreme cruelty, abuse, and suffering within these industries have been exposed but highlighting these alone can create the impression that they just need to be cleaned up and better regulated. Yet however ‘loved’ and well cared for some of these animals may be, securing a return on investment is the rationale behind their existence and all the practices of breeding, ‘breaking,’ training, coercion, control, and killing this existence entails. They are objects in human lives, not subjects of their own.
While I have not gone into detail on the hundreds of thousands of animals worldwide that are part of tourist operations of all scales (for example elephants in Thailand), it stands to reason that for many people reliant on them for their own livelihoods, if they can no longer afford to feed and keep them, they will also have few options but to get rid of them. Similarly for millions of laboratory animals who, with the closure of research and education institutions, and lack of staff to care for them, have become surplus to requirements and face mass culling. Not to mention the others being used unnecessarily to test vaccines.
On the surface the pandemic seems to be disrupting some aspects of the animal-industrial complex, such as bullfighting in Spain, and the hunting of grouse and deer in the UK. However, there has been no fundamental change in the legislation surrounding these activities and so it’s unclear what the fate of these animals, that would otherwise have been killed, will be once the virus has run its course.
This is the crux of my point. Commodified animals are always at risk of not matching up to what is required of them to be considered of value, and also of shifting values. However, when the system of exchange as a whole is shaken, they face the possibility of mass extermination simply because the services they provide are no longer a priority. And even though industry authorities (when they exist) may recommend ‘humane’ euthanasia, these animals’ status as property permits their legal ‘owners’ to kill them in any way they want with no recourse, as long as they can prove they didn’t ‘suffer’.
We have to become accountable for the consequences of our consumerist and throwaway lifestyles, especially when they come at the cost of millions of lives, and of species and environments that may never recover. Animals don’t have second homes, pension schemes, insurance, savings, or social services to rely on. Even though many people live in countries that don’t have these, there is at least a general understanding (still short of consensus) that they should. But our uses of animals proceed with no regard for back up plans or contingencies. When things go to shit, animals are on their own, which is what makes their entrapment in capitalist political economies so doubly heartless. That this animal-industrial complex is so directly implicated in the COVID-19 pandemic and the climate crisis, with myriad animals being substantial victims of both, only emphasises the cycles of violence that result from capitalist commodification.
A step on the path toward accountability is accepting that capitalism is not working for us or for animals. Sure, those people with their islands, bunkers and gated communities may be alright for a while. But they won’t last long in a world where their systems of worth have become meaningless and industrial food and energy systems have collapsed. In that world, borders, nation states, free markets, and protectionism become liabilities, not ideals.
Many writers and scholars over the years have been explaining why we need to think differently, among them Arundhati Roy, Naomi Klein, and David Harvey. Recently, author Rebecca Solnit speaks more vaguely of hope and change, though it is clear that the “pack ice” of power relations she pictures being broken up by this crisis is held together by social inequality, privatization, and neoliberalism. Now even the UN is recognizing that the writing is on the wall for capitalist economies. Back in 1997, evolution biologist, futurist and author Elisabet Sahtouris said:
The Globalization of humanity is a natural, biological, evolutionary process. Yet we face an enormous crisis because the most central and important aspect of globalization — its economy — is currently being organized in a manner that so gravely violates the fundamental principles by which healthy living systems are organized that it threatens the demise of our whole civilization.
Echoing her implicit call, author Umair Haque urges that “without building global systems, nothing much will change. Every single existential threat of now, from pandemic to climate change to inequality to fascism, will simply rage on and continue”.
But before we can accept the real possibility of a globalized future, we need to understand how our economy can be organized differently, right? We need writers to show us not only what non-capitalist, truly democratic and sustainable societies for humans and nonhumans might look like, but also how to get there in ways that are compassionate and respectful. Because until we can see how our existing systems can be dismantled in an organized way that causes the least harm to those individuals and communities dependent on them, we’ll be waiting until they completely (and inevitably) fall apart and that will be so much worse than COVID-19 for every living thing.
So I’m calling on all those eloquent visionaries and speculative thinkers out there to help popularize a new way of thinking about our lives and how we can begin to consciously extract ourselves from an ideology that is holding us back in every way from the kinds of futures I’m sure we all want to imagine. A good place to start might be to think about all the ways you directly or indirectly support making money from the bodies of animals (living or dead) and simply deciding from this point on to ‘cease and desist’. If this can precipitate even a small shift in practices of the sort that can stop capitalism destroying the planet, then it will be worth the effort.
Acknowledgements: My thanks to Dr Richard Twine (Edge Hill University) and Dr Alex Lockwood (University of Sunderland), for their comments on an earlier draft of this work, and to Dene Stansall (AnimalAid), Rita James (CAGED NW), and Sam Threadgill (Freedom for Animals) for their comments and contributions.
