A Thinking Reed

Month: November 2009

  • Building a better farm animal?

    Thanks to mizm of the fine blog Left at the Altar for alerting me to this paper by Adam Shriver that makes a case for replacing factory farmed animals with animals genetically engineered to feel less pain. The author cites recent research that seems to show that it’s possible to eliminate, or at least reduce, animals’ capacity for suffering and goes on to argue that, on consequentialist grounds, this could provide a certain technological fix to the moral problem of factory farming.

    I have two problems with this piece, a somewhat superficial one and a deeper one. First, even if it is possible to reduce or eliminate the unpleasant sensations associated with pain, there’s still the issue of how factory farming frustrates animals’ natural tendencies toward certain behaviors. A pig wants to get up and move around, and a hen wants to stretch her wings. This is true even if they aren’t in pain per se. Not to mention the various social and other behaviors that are proper to these creatures but which the confined conditions of factory farming prevent them from engaging in. Even if we could genetically engineer away pain, is it possible to engineer away the frustration, boredom, and fear that these animals undoubtedly also experience?

    Suppose it is possible, though–is it desirable? This brings me to my more fundamental objection. Even if such a thing was technically feasible, would it be right to engineer animals with such radically different natures that they no longer even wanted to express the patterns of behavior proper to their kind? Granted, we can’t necessarily see natural kinds in quite the same ways that our pre-Darwinian ancestors might have, but isn’t there something monstrous about the prospect of fashioning such unnatural beings? Is our gluttony for flesh so insatiable that there’s no length we won’t go to in order to satisfy it?

    In fairness to Shriver, he seems to be an animal advocate, and his argument is motivated in part by a deep pessimism that moral argument will persuade large numbers of people to boycott the products of factory farms. Replacing existing farm animals with ones incapable of suffering is, for him, a second-best option. I’m not sure I share his pessimism, but even if I did, there are some things that we shouldn’t do even if they seem to promise the best available utilitarian outcome. The kind of engineering he envisions would, it seems to me, be the ultimate reduction of animals to commodity status–it would be an explicit affirmation that they are entirely material to be manipulated for our use, rather than creatures with an independent dignity and worth. The result might well turn out to be a case of winning the battle only to lose the war: a society with such a wholly instrumentalist view of non-human life is not likely to learn to restrain itself from running roughshod over creation whenever it feels like it. Is that the kind of society we want? And is it one that can last?

  • A broad orthodoxy

    Pastor Robb (a.k.a. LutherPunk) recently asked how people defined orthodoxy. The question was raised in the context of the recent decisions of the ELCA church-wide assembly, as many traditionalists are now accusing the ELCA of lapsing into heresy. Interestingly, Robb got about as many different definitions of “orthodoxy” as he had commenters responding to his post, which might say something.

    The way I think about it is this: you’re essentially “un-churching” whomever you declare a heretic (i.e., not orthodox). That is, a heretic is someone beyond the pale of orthodox, historic Christianity. So, in pondering how I define orthodoxy, I have to think: who would I consider a heretic?

    Put this way, I end up with a very generous definition of orthodoxy. Despite theological differences, I certainly don’t consider Catholics, Orthodox, Anglicans, Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, Mennonites, free-church Christians, non-denominational evangelicals, or Pentecostals to be “heretics” in the sense of being beyond the bounds of Christianity.

    This seems to imply that there’s a kind of Lewisian “mere” Christianity that all these groups have in common. I’d specify that as roughly (1) a confession of the triune God (2) a commitment to the authority of Scripture and (3) participation in a community gathered around the proclamation of the gospel and the administration of the two dominical sacraments. I think I’d also want to include certain other key practices, or “marks” of the church, like the forgiveness of sins, hospitality to the poor and marginalized, and a triune pattern of prayer.

    Beyond that core there are theological elaborations of first-order proclamation and practice. I’d include here things like theology of the sacraments, church polity, soteriology, views on election and predestination, eschatology, etc. And beyond that are all our attempts to work out concrete moral, social, and political implications of the gospel. Here we get into the realm of adiaphora–things that Christians can in good faith disagree about.

    This definition, admittedly broad though it is, does recognize certain borderline cases: Unitarians, Mormons, and some Quakers for example (depending on their specific beliefs) would likely fall outside my definition of orthodoxy. And, naturally, a Muslim, or Jew, or Hindu would not be included. Though it makes little sense to consider them heretics: they’re simply not Christian and make no claims to be.

    My view clearly allows for a lot of diversity in both belief and practice. I’m not claiming that this is what most Christians have historically meant by “orthodoxy,” but I just don’t think it’s feasible, for a whole host of reasons, to insist on a fully specified list of doctrinal beliefs in order to be considered orthodox. A certain epistemological pluralism is just our lot in life at this point, and I don’t think people should claim to know with certainty things they couldn’t possibly know. Plus, if, as we believe, truth is primarily a Person, we should expect that truth will elude complete capture in our theological and doctrinal language.

  • Factory farming power grab in Ohio?

    Ohioans will vote Tuesday on a measure to amend the state constitution and create a board of political appointees that will set standards for the treatment of farm animals. The problem, as this Mother Jones article spells out, is that any such board would be outside the normal rule-making process, immune from public comment, and is bound to be dominated by big agriculture interests, who have been the prime movers in getting this measure on the ballot.

    The opposition–a loose coalition of small farmers, animal welfare groups, and even some small-government conservatives–argues that the measure would create a permanent place for special interests in the state constitution. Moreover, any measures to improve the conditions of farmed animals (like last year’s Proposition 2 in California) would have to amend the state constitution. Here’s a summary of their arguments. It’s very difficult to see this measure as anything but an attempt by a powerful and influential industry to insulate itself from pressure for reform.