Farms vs. Animal Rights
Sanctuary Movements, part 8
Farms vs. Animal Rights
In the U.K., the Government’s Chief scientific advisor, John Beddington, was characterized in Country Life as suggesting that “the amount of land available could only be increased through deforestation, which nobody wants.”28
Together, between the projections of the U.K. and New Zealand, this scenario becomes reminiscent of the good Reverend Thomas Malthus, whose draconian predictions of mass starvation, did, in fact, take place, specifically in China and Ireland during the course of the 19th century. Moreover, in the absence of good population policies (see Dancing Star Foundation video) in nearly half of all countries, we have seen a continued trend towards more than two children per family worldwide, and a continuing increase that, as yet, has no food remedy, particularly in countries like New Zealand that have all but dashed the prospects for genetically modified foods to increase yields29, not that anyone was looking to New Zealand to save the world from hunger. If anything, New Zealand’s statistics from its potent agricultural sector are the envy of most other nations.
Consider the Rodale Institute report from 2003: since the demise of most subsidies in the country, New Zealand agriculture has grown aggressively in terms of its income generation for the nation’s GDP and farmers themselves; farm labor losses have been supplanted by gains from rural eco-tourism; productivity was up by nearly 6% per year between 1986 and 2003; while most of the world’s developed nations saw a 31% subsidy from their respective governments, New Zealand enjoyed a mere 1% advantage; and, most telling, 55% of all exports came from 90% of its agricultural production, whilst domestic consumption was almost entirely satisfied by that same domestic engine of rural output.30 This would also suggest a very rosy tale but for the animal rights consideration underlying an otherwise impressive Act Locally mindset. But the telling mismatch between that rural energy (amplified by New Zealand’s and now most nations’ attempted embrace of the Clean, Green mantra) and the biological bottom-line is stark and confused.
Malthus’s projections were not limited to the 19th century. Most recently, the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization’s measurement of global “undernutrition” cited 1.02 billion people deemed to be undernourished, a “sizable increase from its 2006 estimate of 854 million people.”31 Given the vast underpinnings of pollution, obesity, and cruelty arising from the exploitation of animals, and the ever increasing gap between well-fed individuals and those who are not, it is all too clear that there is much work ahead in the realms of compassion and basics of what it will take for any nation or community to come to terms with the biosphere and our humble role within it.
Part 7: The Farm Animal Conundrum
Part 1: Jaguar Sanctuaries: an example of dissension (the beginning)
28. ibid.
29. See “Media briefing — GMO debate,” 24 November 2008: “A media briefing on the GMO debate linked to the Ad hoc working group on the 24th of November and the Environment Council on the 4th of December 2008,”
30. See “Farming without subsidies?” by Laura Sayre, Rodale Institute, . Accessed 11/19/2009.
31. See “World hunger Facts 2009,”; See also “Resource Base Erosion and Sustainable Development in South Asia,” by Akmal Hussein, JSTOR: “Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 25, No. 33 (Aug. 18, 1990).
Excerpt from the forthcoming Dancing Star Foundation book, God’s Country: The New Zealand Factor, by Michael Charles Tobias and Jane Gray Morrison
©Dancing Star Foundation 2010

In a country that gave us Shakespeare and his eternal love of nature, how is it that today the English can vilify foxes and Muntjac deer, “Britain’s smallest deer species, cast, rightly, as a villain for its destruction of woodland floors.”
Finding viable habitat for such offspring, however, presents enormous hurdles. A recent WWF report states that “as few as 3,200 tigers exist in the wild in Asia” yet, in the United States, that number is exceeded by tigers kept in captivity. In the state of Texas alone, there are over 3,000 captive tigers.
Such examples should provide the beginnings of a blueprint for the nearly seven billion Homo sapiens, the majority of whom now live in cities, but must view themselves as in critical partnership with the billions of other people living in rural or wilderness areas, not to mention the more than 100 million other species multiplied by the millions of individuals per many of those species who all share and cohabit this sacred Earth with us.
If a backyard, even potted native plants on a balcony can help in the effort to restore some balance to the ecological tumult our species has precipitated, then the world is indeed watching and listening to our individual efforts. As James Cameron’s film “Avatar” magnificently points out to the popular audience, the Earth seeks balance, taking no sides. That said, compliance with said balance requires more than disinterest and neutrality. Neutrality will not save the destruction of rainforests, and while no one can claim understanding of the laws of nature, as science, bioethics, even religions debate, falter, flounder and test one hypothesis after another, opinions and test results, whether biased, divisive, or inconclusive, require effort. Effort, in turn, relies upon deeply invested convictions, whether they prove to be misguided, or spot on. Conviction is everything, even as it morphs and undergoes refinement. And because we are a young species relative to most others on the planet, we behave like restless adolescents, eager to make things happen; to unfold our wings. This collective energy can easily be harnessed, and that is the true message of hope. Examples from daily literature are legion.
The complexities are worth exploring in some depth because they rightly point the way, in each instance, to the same need for hope. In the case of avifauna, as of October, 2009, a known 1217 bird species were “deemed endangered or vulnerable to extinction. “New Zealand is in the path of one of eight major global migratory routes, the East Asian-Australasian Flyway that goes from the Arctic, passing through on average 19 nations before touching down in Australia and/or New Zealand.
When these tried and true fundaments of the human spirit are flattened, when reality backlashes, the power goes out, a piece of the world is inundated, even compromises are stretched to the breaking point. When debate rages over a sub-division — to protect x-number of acres — a compromise, hammered out by voters, developers, lawyers and biological opinions, or a single judge, again replicates the template of an imperfect process. There will always be end-losers and no spiritual tradition has offered much guidance, beyond faith and courage. Some argue that jaguars should be returned to the Southwest United States. Others declare that such critical habitat is not critical at all because jaguars never, in fact, occupied that region during previous millennia. There is a jaguar sanctuary in Belize, which provides geographical connectivity to thousands of other individual jaguars all the way into the Amazon, whereas Arizona, for example, is cut off, and might support all of a few individual animals. For jaguars, Arizona might simply mean a kind of zoo. But nobody knows for certain and neither Darwin nor Linneaus could have invoked any ethical imperative that should help resolve outstanding ambivalences. Darwin made much of the three endemic mockingbirds on Espanola Island in the Galapagos in 1835, but was in no position to draw ethical imperatives from their vulnerability, much less any “imperative” that might assuage today’s rapacious destruction of wildlife worldwide, in the guise of human consumption or ecological stupidity.
The question of consciousness begs an even deeper issue, namely, human conscience. For all of the practical antidotes that conservation biology and sustainability thinking have come up with to protect remaining habitat and species, the matrix of “pain” as a primary qualifier seems to have been lost in the scientific, political and economic shuffle. The pain to individuals meted out by ecologists and non-ecologists alike. By that we refer to the long-overdue recognition that an enormous gulf exists between animal rights considerations and those of large-scale habitat protection. Humans are somewhere caught out in the middle of this debate; a seasoned, churning cauldron that — for many — poses no interest or discussion whatsoever, but is self-evident. Whereas the majority of humans carry on as if they are the only species dwelling on the Earth, the others — perhaps 100 million species or more — being merely scientific white noise that occasionally delight our children seated in movie theaters or in front of their computers where a digitized lion, or shark or penguin can satisfy their thirst for entertainment, temporarily.
Given that slightly less than 13% of the terrestrial planet and 1% of the world’s marine areas are so far protected under any of the more than thirty standard protection indicators, particularly those designated by the IUCN, this consumptive species of ours faces a daunting dilemma that every working conservationist is more than familiar with. The corridors and parks set aside for the sole benefit of the Other — Nature; or those areas explicitly recognized as protected for habitat, sustainability and development — often driven by the needs of indigenous human habitants, as well as the integrity of the ecosystems they are dependent upon — leaves much doubt as to our willingness or ability to concede something beyond ourselves, those of us who comprise the majority of human denizens, living in urban environments across the planet.