As of late, I have immersed myself, as only an anthropologist can, in the culture of the animal rights movement and the curious world populated by proponents of a vegan lifestyle (a diet that abstains from any food derived from animals including; dairy, eggs, fish and meat). During my studies, I fell upon the book “Eating Animals”, by Jonathan Safran Foer. Foer’s book, which became a national bestseller in 2009, was a glaring expose on the current escalation of factory farming in the United States, along with all of its horrific consequences, from the environmental devastation of factory farming, to the inhuman treatment of animals and the effect that eating large amounts of factory farmed meat on America’s overall health. Among the glaring statistics mentioned by Foer, are the fact that factory farms account for more than 40 percent of the global warming in our country (due to the astronomical amounts of methane gas being produced), loss of natural habitat, contamination of hundreds of lakes and streams, due to the run off from massive amounts of animals manure, pandemics (like Swine flu), and multiple medical problems like heart disease, diabetes, autoimmune disorders, and obesity.
Sprinkled within the pages of this exhaustively well-researched book, are stories of his own childhood, as the grandchild of a holocaust survivor, and the significance that culture plays on our view of food and our food choices. The point being, that food is not just eaten for its taste, but also holds significant emotional meaning for us. Certain foods, such as traditional holiday foods can be eaten together with others in order to help create community and shared experiences. When we “break bread” with another human being, we are also creating bonds and shared experiences. A person who chooses to change their diet to a vegan diet does more than simply decide not to eat meat s/he chooses to challenge those old bonds and traditions. An example would be deciding to host a vegetarian Thanksgiving, instead of a traditional one with turkey. Perhaps this new Thanksgiving might create new traditions and a new community, but not with perhaps straining old ones.
Perhaps the thing that most influenced me about Safran’s book, peppered with dozens of studies citing the reasons not to eat meat, was his first hand accounts—by slaughterhouse workers—of horrific animal abuse they either witnessed or engaged in on a daily basis. While in some distant and abstract way I understood that animals are slaughtered in order that I eat meat, I had never really taken the time to thoroughly examine what goes into making meat on my plate so inexpensive and available.
The images in this book haunt me, and left me committed to finding a way to make it possible for both myself, and my patients, to choose a vegan lifestyle that was affordable and healthy. This book changed my life, made me re-evaluate the way I live and why I became a doctor in the first place. I became rededicated to my work as a health educator and to the firm commitment to contribute to a form of medicine that takes into account not only the health and welfare of the individual, but the planet as a whole. This book comes highly recommended.
