Through the lens: The importance of documenting animal abuse

Originally published April 2013 in Discordia online zine.

So-called "ag-gag" bills being introduced in several US states threaten to suppress those uncovering gross abuses in the farming industry. The bills aim to deter whistle-blowers and animal advocacy groups from documenting animal abuse on farms.

In my latest article, Through the lens: The importance of documenting animal abuse, I challenge the rationale of ag-gag bill proponents, and look at why undercover surveillance in slaughterhouses and farming operations is fundamentally important. 

Ultimately, I urge readers to reflect on the role they play in the exploitation of animals, via their purchase and consumption of animal products.

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The scenes are chilling.

Individuals being beaten and kicked, jabbed in the eyes, jolted with electric shocks, and rammed with machinery. And then, in a finale of ferocity, the terrified souls are thrust to their deaths.

This house of horrors once produced cow meat for human consumption. It was even tasked with supplying meat for children’s lunches under the National School Lunch Program in the US.

But clandestine footage recorded by The Humane Society revealed the now-bankrupt slaughterhouse brutalising “downed” (very ill) cows before butchering them for food, prompting the largest meat recall in US history. 

Despite the compelling public interest argument for these kinds of exposés, bills being introduced in several US states threaten to suppress those uncovering gross abuses in the farming industry. So-called “ag-gag” bills aim to deter whistle-blowers and animal advocacy groups from documenting animal abuse on farms.

It presents a backwards, “shoot the messenger” situation where those unearthing cruelty are painted as villains as their activities are criminalised, while the abusers can virtually act with impunity under inadequate industry regulation.

Catalogue of cruelty

In addition to animal protection, ag-gag laws have implications for issues of food safety, labour, free speech, and freedom of the press. The conditions of the bills vary, but apply uniformly to journalists, employees of farming facilities, and activists.

Some jurisdictions deem it illegal to take photographs or footage at a farming operation. Other provisions obligate prospective farm employees to disclose any links to animal advocacy groups. Several versions of the bill require individuals to turn any footage over to authorities within a short timeframe, or risk being found guilty of an infraction.  

An undercover activist working with Mercy for Animals argues that this time constraint can hinder thorough investigations, which are required to determine if abuse uncovered is systemic and who is involved. He reveals that ag-gag laws have stifled his work, as filming in states where ag-gag bills have been enacted is a “no-go”.

There is a concern that these laws could be duplicated around the world.

Covert investigations have long played a central role in exposing brutality within the farming industry, and in supplying valuable evidence leading to prosecution and closure of facilities.

In the UK, Animal Aid footage recently caught slaughterhouse workers viciously beating pigs and burning them with cigarettes, leading to the convictions of two of the thugs involved.

In Australia, a Victorian slaughterhouse lost its licence after Animals Australia footage showed animals being beaten to death with sledgehammers, and revealed breaches of stunning protocols. Unfortunately, charges against the owner were recently withdrawn.

In March, sickening footage recorded by Animal Liberation at a Sydney Ingham’s turkey slaughterhouse showed employees routinely beating, kicking, punching, stomping on, and committing other horrendous acts against turkeys. The footage, which shows workers celebrating the violence, was provided to police for investigation.

Clandestine footage led to the forced closure of a Sydney slaughterhouse last year, after it revealed pigs being belted and pummelled by staff with implements believed to be iron bars. Breaches of stunning rules and overzealous use of cattle prods were also recorded.  

Harrowing images emerged from Wally’s piggery near Canberra last year. Disgusting scenes filmed by Animal Liberation included pigs being beaten, attacked with sledgehammers and hacked at the throat by employees, pigs bleeding to death, dead piglets decomposing in stalls beside their mothers, and pig corpses abandoned for days and eaten by other pigs and stray cats. Inconceivably, this piggery continues to operate.  

Footage aired on Lateline in February showed the abominable treatment of baby dairy cows (“bobby calves”) in a VIC slaughterhouse. The video shows the frightened calves, who are separated from their mothers within hours of birth, being thrown and taunted by staff on their way to slaughter. These calves don’t serve any profitable purpose to the dairy industry, since the milk that is meant for them is stolen for human consumption. The doomed baby cows, deprived of their own mother’s milk, are treated like garbage.

This string of appalling incidents, spotlighted by secret footage, confirms that these are not merely “rogue” operators. Conversely, these are examples of the violence and control which inhabit the very core of the animal production industries.

These incidents can be viewed as structural elements, and inevitable side effects, of industries which forcefully transform the bodies and secretions of animals into consumer food products. Dominance and suffering are the essential fabric of this process.

This is why undercover footage is so valuable: it exposes the inherent violence characterising these industries.

Setting the agenda

Two of the main arguments from ag-gag bill proponents centre on issues of privacy and context. I believe these arguments are problematic for several reasons.

Animals incarcerated within the food production system are at the complete mercy of operators. The fact that they are considered as property, as mere commodities, places them at great vulnerability. Against this backdrop, how is it appropriate for the privacy of operators to supersede the scrutiny of their treatment of the sentient creatures under their “care”? How can it override the public’s right to know how their food is produced?

Farmers profess concern that common animal treatment practices could potentially be misunderstood or taken “out of context” by the public. This not only trivialises the public’s ability to decipher between acceptable and unacceptable treatment, but ignores the fact that the industries themselves – which have a vested interest in assuaging the public, and which often fight to reduce animal living standards in order to increase profits - frame the context. 

Industry practices should be analysed in a framework transcending industry interpretation. We must beware the illusion that “context” provides a stamp of legitimacy.

Horrendous “standard” practices should be analysed independently of industry spin; for example, debeaking, dehorning, mulesing, and tail docking – all without anaesthetic; the routine gassing or mincing alive of male chicks born into the egg industry; and the forced removal of hours-old calves from their mothers in the dairy industry.

It is obviously in any industry’s best interests to have full control over the message, and, correspondingly, the perception of the product. This allows deceptive marketing campaigns (i.e., images of egg-laying hens wandering sprawling pastures) and the use of euphemistic terms (“humane meat”, “happy cows”) to conveniently gloss over oppressive conditions within the farming system.

Additionally, high-level abuse of animals, and welfare regulation breaches, are often explained by industry within the context of an “anomaly”, or “rogue” behaviour. They don’t want us to know how common they actually are. (For example, eight out of nine slaughterhouses filmed by Animal Aid UK from 2009-2011 were breaking animal welfare laws.)

Exposing the violence

It’s plain to see why farming groups are intent on shrouding their business operations in a veil of secrecy. The objective is to safeguard profits, and this will always trump animal “welfare” concerns. 

But independent evidence-gathering is vitally important, and especially so when documenting industries where the vulnerable cannot speak out for themselves.

For most people, acquiring animal products generally amounts only to a supermarket transaction. This allows them to maintain a separation and a disconnect from any role in the production process. Therefore, it is crucial for people to observe, understand, and accept responsibility for what their money is sanctioning.

There will always be violence, abuse and misery in a system where animals have the status only as commodities, rather than recognised as sentient beings with the capacity to suffer profoundly. Violence simply cannot be extricated from such a system.

Undercover footage and images pose the question to all consumers: how can this system’s continued existence be justified? Examine your conscience. 
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Originally published April 2013 in Discordia online zine.

Killing our cousins: The plight of the orangutan

I have been obsessed with primates for as long as I can remember. My infatuation led me to travel to Borneo in 2002 to visit the Sepilok Orangutan sanctuary, and subsequently inspired me to volunteer at the Gibbon Rehabilitation Project (GRP) in Phuket, Thailand, several times. My experiences with the gibbons at the GRP were intense and life changing. The gibbons at the project are victims of the illegal wildlife trade - most have formerly been abused as pets and tourist attractions. I gained an intimate understanding of the complexities of rehabilitation and re-release, within the context of the fractured lives and exploitation the gibbons had experienced.

I wrote about the gibbons in a 2011 article for The Scavenger, where I outlined the link between the wildlife trade and the tourism industry in Thailand. I have also written about the torture and total subjugation of chimpanzees in medical laboratories and testing facilities. And another piece I wrote in 2011 spotlighted the impact of Indonesia's staggering rate of deforestation and proliferation of palm oil plantations on orangutans and other forest species.

My latest article for Discordia, Killing our cousins: The plight of the orangutan, revisits the issue of palm oil, and the alarming violence being inflicted on orangutans to keep the wheels of industry - and its huge profits - turning. I also reflect on my time in Borneo, and an intense encounter with two orangutans.

I suspect that this won't be the last time that I am compelled to write about primates!
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Killing our cousins: The plight of the orangutan

A baby’s cries penetrate the air as the mob surges forward to continue its attack. The focus of attention is the baby’s mother, an adult orangutan, whose lifeless body the infant is desperately clutching.

Earlier, the mother orangutan had fought bravely to protect her infant while sustaining savage beatings with sticks and rocks, despite the tight ropes encircling her limbs. Finally, she was thrust head-down into a pool of water, to be wrenched out only after losing consciousness.

Now thrown into a makeshift pen, the mother slumps forward as her baby grasps her rust-coloured fur and cries out in panic.

Many local residents were incensed that the mother orangutan had entered the village to scavenge for fruit. But like increasing numbers of her fellow species, her ever-shrinking habitat had presented little other choice. 

Shockingly this brutal event in Borneo, culminating in the courageous mother’s death, is not an isolated incident.

In the line of fire

Approximately 5,000 orangutans perish each year as a consequence of forest destruction, hunting, and the illegal pet trade. A mere decade could see one of our closest living relatives wiped off the face of the Earth.  

In Indonesia and Malaysia, the expansion of the palm oil trade and prevalence of legal and illegal logging have eroded enormous forested areas, leaving orangutans residing within fragmented and shrinking pockets of vulnerable rainforest.

78% of forests inhabited by orangutans in Borneo are unprotected, with a large proportion made up of logging concessions or slated for conversion to palm oil and timber plantations. The insatiable economic interests of these industries and the livelihoods of wildlife such as the orangutan are intrinsically incompatible.

Escalating encroachment onto orangutan habitat is not only having a devastating impact on the species, but has seen an unprecedented level of violence perpetrated against individual orangutans.

The palm oil industry considers the endangered primates a hindrance to production, and some companies have employed ruthless measures to destroy them - even going to the extent of bankrolling their extermination. 

Disturbingly, monetary incentives have been offered to bounty hunters to seek out and kill orangutans. Last year it was reported that a Malaysian company was paying their workers one million Indonesian rupiah ($100 AUD) per dead orangutan. Mass graves of orangutans have also been discovered on palm oil plantation sites.

Captured orangutans are often viciously attacked and tortured to death.

Uncontrolled burning is also regularly employed by palm oil companies to rapidly clear land, placing orangutans in the line of fire. Burning of forest has a comprehensively damaging effect on the species: it shrinks their habitat, destroys their food sources, and often kills them directly.

An encounter

Eleven years ago I travelled to Malaysian Borneo to visit the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre and Labuk Bay Proboscis Monkey Sanctuary to indulge my fascination with primates.

The Sepilok centre aims to rehabilitate orphaned orangutans, and provides supplementary feeding to recently released orangutans within the forested reserve. At Labuk Bay, the quirky looking proboscis monkeys living in the vicinity are given supplementary provisions to strengthen their community in the face of dwindling wild food options.

In Borneo, the reality on the ground was confronting.

Peering out of the window during car trips on the island, I’d often perceive a sudden change in landscape. The view would come to be dominated by derelict tracts of land; what our guide explained were palm oil concessions.

My stomach would tighten as my eyes focused on desolate wastelands which formerly hosted lush and vibrant rainforest. The situation was more desperate than I could have imagined.

One day at Sepilok, I slowly proceeded towards the viewing platform where the orangutans were fed. As I meandered along the wooden walkway through the forest, absorbed in the bird songs and jungle chatter, my eye caught a bright spot of colour. I lifted my head up to focus on it.

I froze. In front of me, perched on the wooden handrail, was a mother orangutan. In her protective arms an infant was snuggled to her breast. The mother sat still as we quietly contemplated each other. She seemed unruffled by my presence; her calm manner surprised me. But what happened next surprised me even more.

The adult female grabbed her baby under the arms, and swivelled the infant around to face me. She held her baby up, in what I interpreted as a proud mother showing off her gorgeous child. They then both sat, unmoving, observing me in the shadows of the buzzing forest canopy. We remained like this for several minutes, eyeing each other with peaceful curiosity.

And then they scampered off, up towards the trees which would afford them distance from prying human eyes.

I will never forget that spine-tingling encounter. But I now sometimes wonder: did this mother ever have to flee from the sinister hands of humans? Or risk her life to protect her baby?

Did they, like many of their species, become virtual exiles in their own land?

While certain industries view their interests as in conflict with orangutans and other forest species, we need to reject this mentality. The reality is our interests are in harmony with these species.

Their habitat, which is being so recklessly destroyed, is also our precious environment. Apathy towards the fate of their children is indifference towards our own children.

And ultimately, violence against our fellow primates is an act of violence against us.

***With Easter around the corner, keep in mind that palm oil is a common ingredient in chocolate and can sometimes even be found in hot cross buns. See The Orangutan Project’s website for more information about the current threats to orangutans.

Clean Up Australia Day & McDonald's: An unpalatable alliance

I was quite stunned recently when I discovered that McDonald's has been a long-time sponsor and partner of Clean Up Australia Day. This is an annual event which encourages people to clean up general waste in their local area and waterways. 

I was struck by the incongruity of Clean Up's association with a corporation such as McDonald's, which generates large volumes of waste and which is a key contributor to Australia's rubbish problem. My latest article for Discordia, Clean Up Australia Day and McDonald's: An unpalatable alliance, looks at this issue. 
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Clean Up Australia Day and McDonald's: An unpalatable alliance

March 2013

The man on screen flashed a cheerful smile, and implored fellow Australians to join him in the environmental campaign. Clean Up Australia Day was approaching, and a year’s worth of refuse clogging the streets and waterways was awaiting an army of eager volunteers.

His manner was friendly, his work was admirable… and his shirt was adorned with the unmistakable golden arches logo.

Recovering from my initial shock, I decided the ad was a spoof. What a great satirical clip, I thought. McDonald’s partnering with Clean Up Australia Day – now wouldn’t that be a laugh?!

But then the ad rolled to a finish, with no disclaimer in sight.

After some searching on the Clean Up website, I discovered that McDonald’s has been a sponsor, a “founding partner”, of Clean Up Australia Day since 1989.

Who knew? I certainly didn’t, and thinking myself a bit ignorant, I quizzed a bunch of friends. None of them had known either.

Rubbish

I haven’t frequented a McDonald’s store since resigning as a grossly underpaid teenage “crew member” of the food giant in the mid-90s. As an employee, I was privy – and party to - the sickening scale of food wastage generated by McDonald’s each day. Much of the food that was cooked was destined for the bin from its inception. 

As food such as burgers were generally not made to order, but rather cooked en masse and allotted into a timer system, those which exceeded their (brief) use-by-date in the absence of a purchase were tossed into large bins. I recall carrying out the nightly back-breaking task of emptying the bins - absolutely brimming with wrapped, untouched burgers - into one massive disposal unit.

I still often encounter the junk food corporation’s trash, in the form of its branded packaging, strewn carelessly along streets and gutters. According to a Keep Australia Beautiful study, 10 per cent of all litter in Australia originates from McDonald's. When communities lodge opposition to a proposed McDonald’s store in their area, concern over rubbish is usually a chief point of contention. 

This is despite McDonald’s Australia’s Clean Streets program, where lucky crew members supposedly do regular trash-duty around a store’s surrounding streets. 

Conscious or culpable?

The ubiquitous fast food chain does not enjoy a healthy environmental track record. McDonald’s uses an inordinate amount of packaging, the majority of which is used only fleetingly before being discarded. Also, its ardent agenda to lure children in-store means that plastic “Happy Meal” toys and their accompanying packaging are perpetually on the menu.

Even more alarming are some of the less visible aspects of its operations, such as the impact of the company’s transportation and food refrigeration, and the steep carbon and ecological footprint of their sale of resource-intensive meat and dairy products. 30% of the Earth’s entire land area and 70% of all agricultural land are appropriated for animal agriculture. Animal husbandry is also a primary driver of soil erosion and sedimentation, high levels of pesticide use and freshwater pollution.

It is almost impossible to find reliable figures of annual food wastage generated in Australia by McDonald’s. I’ve been told by a recent Australian customer that McDonald’s now makes a range of its products directly to order, but I’m aware that the timer system is still used for various items, and I can’t comment on the company’s practices overseas. 

However, try as they might, it would be difficult for Clean Up to deny that McDonald’s is synonymous with immense waste, environmental degradation, and a throw-away culture. Yet, Clean Up has counted McDonald’s as a sponsor for more than two decades, and McDonald’s proudly cites its yearly support of the Clean Up Australia Day program.

The chain’s Australian operations also proudly claim to participate in the Sydney Water Every Drop Counts initiative, but it could be argued that this is a convenient diversion from the exorbitant water usage of the animal agriculture industries on which McDonald’s so heavily relies.

Through its association with these “green” initiatives and programs, and its much-publicised (but arguably, inadequate) recycling and packaging changes across some markets, McDonald’s has cunningly cultivated an image as a “green leader”. Its relentless PR machine ensures a wealth of media releases and column inches are devoted to reporting on the company’s latest “eco-friendly” innovations.

But McDonald’s, which serves 69 million customers a day, is NOT an environmental organisation, or a company producing “eco-friendly” products. It is a corporation driven by an insatiable profit motive, which peddles junk food with a colossal environmental, health and ethical toll.

An odd partnership = a confused message

Many undoubtedly believe that the food giant’s involvement in Clean Up Australia Day should be applauded. That at least McDonald’s is taking some steps to clean up the country’s rubbish, of which it’s a significant contributor. But let’s be real here - the motives are not philanthropic.

McDonald’s benefits from the association in more ways than one: it portrays an image of environmental concern and vigilance, while increasing its advertising reach. The arrangement is mutually beneficial, as the sheer monetary power of McDonald’s would equate to healthy sponsorship funds and unparalleled promotion for Clean Up Australia Day.

Maybe Clean Up could not achieve this level of exposure without the backing of such a high profile company. BUT – what is the campaign’s long term message? Shouldn’t it be to reduce waste, the production of unnecessary items, and littering in the first place? Clean Up Australia Day is, after all, a campaign which is ultimately a band-aid measure in the context of the wider problem of over-production, consumerism, and an unsustainable use of resources.

I would like to see Clean Up partner with companies which promote sustainability and environmental protection along their entire supply chain. Clean Up’s association with McDonald’s promotes a message that tokenistic gestures are adequate, thus undermining their credibility as an environmental campaign.

I do believe that Clean Up’s work is commendable. 16,000 tonnes of rubbish was collected during the 2012 event. But the message of reducing and taking responsibility for waste is fundamentally incompatible with the business operations of a company such as McDonald’s. 

The junk food chain may have undertaken some tweaking and tinkering of their operations, but there’s no escaping the fact that they are far from the benchmark of an environmentally-friendly business.

Let’s recognise this partnership for what it is: just another attempt at greenwashing.

Postscript: Obtaining accurate figures about McDonald’s and its waste production proved difficult. Furthermore, many of the web search terms related to the topic led directly back to McDonald’s and its PR apparatus.

Hopeful heart: Contemplating Cambodia’s street kids

[Originally published February 2013 in Discordia online magazine]

I spent six weeks in Phnom Penh in 2006, while I was volunteering at the Free the Bears sanctuary. In the years before this trip, I had travelled to several other developing countries in the Asian region, but I wasn't prepared for the vast poverty of Cambodia. I was struck by the amount of street kids and the hardship of many people's lives. 

In this article, I reflect on my time in Phnom Penh, and the street kids I came into contact with.
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Suddenly he was standing beside my table at the dingy café on the bustling riverside road. His bare feet and tiny frame had ensured I didn’t detect his approach, and absorbed in my own thoughts over a solitary lunch, his face had initially startled me. But as he peered up at me, I softened.

I surveyed his face, framed by a rumpled mop of black hair which fell unevenly across his forehead. His broad smile gleamed up at me, as his large dark eyes flickered with hope. His beauty caused my heart to flip.

And there, outstretched toward me, was his upturned hand. I grinned down at him, and without hesitation reached for my bag. I presented his delicate hand with a couple of notes, which he swiftly clutched into a fist. 

Delight began to spread across his face, conveying a silent thank you. Then the shoeless little boy in the faded blue t-shirt, the spirited child who had captured my heart, turned his back and skipped out of the café.

A warning

Upon my arrival a week earlier, in preparation for a six-week volunteer stint at Free the Bears Fund’s Cambodian sanctuary, I had grabbed some free magazines from a rack at the airport. Alone at the volunteer quarters in a grand old house in central Phnom Penh, I pored over the reading materials’ contents.

I came across a short article by a Western aid worker which advised tourists to avoid giving money to begging street children. The article claimed that adults often exploited these desperate children, waiting in the wings to seize their earnings.

In theory, I comprehended the integrity of the advice. But on the heaving streets of the city, this turned out to be much easier said than done.

Each day I would travel in a truck with Free the Bears staff to the grounds of the animal sanctuary. During the 50 kilometre journey, my eyes darted furiously in all directions as scene after scene competed for my attention. My mind raced as I digested the chaos of the traffic, observed families of six balancing on speeding motorcycles, cast my eyes over ramshackle slums, watched street vendors jostling for business, and spied skinny children playing in filthy gutters.

Then all of a sudden the bedlam would slide behind us, its crude features shrinking in the rear view mirror as our wheels devoured the road ahead. The scenery would transform into luscious green fields, showcasing flourishing plant life and the occasional ornate temple.

But the poverty still stalked us: when our vehicle slowed to enter the sanctuary’s gates, toothless elderly women appeared at the car door, pleading for coins under the oppressive sun.

Back in the heart of Phnom Penh, the legacy of decades of war still shrouds the city. Many try to eke out a living on the streets, and land mine-injured amputees, often treated as pariahs, beg at tourist hot spots. Savvy street kids sidle up to travellers, aiming to impress with their limited knowledge of English and fast facts about the visitor’s home country. “You’re from Australia? Kangaroos and koalas!”, they shriek.

On the streets by the river, raggedly dressed kids shadow me along the path, displaying the same glint of hope in their eyes as the barefoot boy. They charm me with their sweet faces and street smart banter, and hawk their wares - postcards, books and jewellery - to passersby. An ever-smiling shoeshiner, a handsome deaf and mute teenage boy who offers to clean my sandals, approaches me most days.

I didn’t often spot adults lingering around, though I don’t know if they materialised once money was in the children’s possession.

Right or wrong

As a visitor to Cambodia who was devastated by the glaring poverty and sheer numbers of street kids, I found it difficult to set firm rules governing my response to beggars. This is a country where over one third of people live under the poverty line, forced evictions and dispossession of entire communities are commonplace, and child homelessness is escalating. 

The problem of child prostitution is also rife, with pimps soliciting both locals and tourists to bankroll this heartbreaking trade. Street children are particularly vulnerable to being caught in the clutches of this industry.

The claims in the article I read on my first night in Cambodia are well supported: buying trinkets from children and giving them money can put them at risk and trap them in a cycle of poverty on the streets. And I am under no illusions regarding the existence of exploitation by adults.

But the issue is complex, and with charities stretched thin some children are left with little option but to beg to survive from day to day.

Also, I know first-hand that the situation is not always black and white…

As the little barefoot boy exited the café, money in hand, my eyes followed his petite frame outside. There, I spotted him approaching a street vendor selling nuts from the back of a truck. The little boy handed the vendor the crumpled notes, and received a bulging bag of nuts in return. The boy then sat down on the side of the road and gleefully ate the contents of the bag, the whole time with a shining smile on his beautiful face.


Originally published February 2013 in Discordia online magazine]