Killing Chickens

Manas was my classmate in college. His academic brilliance was often accompanied by eccentricity in thoughts and expression. It made him an interesting company for a short while. After all these years, I am still happy to meet him over lunch or dinner, but would probably refuse an offer to share with him a day-long journey or a weeklong vacation. For many years, he has been a professor at a reputed American university. In December, when he visits Bombay, we occasionally arrange to meet. This week, we had gone out for dinner. The place was Manas’s choice. He ordered a tandoori chicken, and I  asked for a vegetarian platter.

“You should try tandoori chicken here.” Manas said. “It’s terrific.”

“Well, I prefer veg.” I said.

“I thought you were not religious. I hope your vegetarianism is not based on some religious principles.”

“No, no. Not religion. But it’s true I don’t like someone killing animals so that we can eat them.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Isn’t that unethical? Isn’t all killing wrong?” I asked. Killing anybody, even chickens, can’t be right.

“But those chickens, the broiler chickens, are more than compensated for their killing. They have got the gift of life.” Manas said.

“What do you mean – compensated? They had a life, and that life has been cut short by somebody with a sharp knife beheading them. Kill them young, so that we, I mean people like you, can eat them.”

“You’re missing a point. Their life as you call it wouldn’t exist if I was not eating them.”

“Are you trying to justify killing those poor chickens?”

“Listen. I don’t think you, as a vegetarian, know or care how the broiler industry works. There are two types of chicken, those that give eggs and those used as meat. The second type is called broilers. They’re specifically bred and raised as meat.  Do you have any idea how many chickens are raised annually? More than 50 billion. If we were not consuming them, most of them would never be born. You know if the world had only vegetarians like you, a few trillion chickens would have never existed.”

“So, what’s wrong with that?”

“We’re talking about the ethics of killing chicken. I accept the chicken is eventually killed. But that happens in one day, in a matter of few minutes. What about the two or three months of life the chicken enjoys till then?”

“Manas, what sort of enjoyment you are talking about?”

“Look, at least in the USA and Europe, the laws governing the poultry farming are strict. You need to look at the health and welfare of the broiler chickens. They are free, not in cages. Until the day they die, they enjoy company of thousands of other chickens. They are treated well, fed well. They see the blue sky, run around.”

“But at the end of it, that life is terminated – brutally. A butcher cuts its throat.”

“Listen, in the west, laws regulate the way broilers are killed. It needs to be quick and with minimum pain. But even if it was brutal and inhuman as it may be in this part of the world, the chicken has still lived its life until then. The joy of breathing, the joy of enjoying the power of senses, the joy of looking at different colours, the joy of mere living... the chicken got that good life only because somebody finds its meat tasty.”

“Manas, but speaking from the ethical point, who has given us the right to kill them?”

“I’ll tell you who. Since we the people breed them, we have the right to kill them. It’s like god. God has created human beings, and god kills them one way or another. And if you wish to compare us with broilers, God is not always a civil butcher. Look at all those cancer patients. God could have easily killed them in one minute. The time that it takes for a knife to separate a chicken’s head. But God opts to torture many innocent men and women, even children, for years before killing them. How is that ethical?

What I’m trying to tell you is that the billions of broilers that exist today, and have existed in the past were created by men, not God. In a vegetarian world, god would not send them at all. And since man specifically breeds the broilers, he has the moral right to end their life as well. And the trade-off, according to me, is fair. The chicken gets to experience life that it would not have otherwise.”

“ Manas, I think you attach too much importance to experiencing life as you call it.”

“Of course I do. Each day of life is an experience that offers unlimited possibilities for joy and creation. It has nothing to do with how the life ends. Take the case of Mahatma Gandhi or John Kennedy. Both were shot dead. You may even say brutally and unfairly. Does that diminish the importance of their lives in any way? Until the day they died, they lived life to the full. They not only enjoyed their life, they also contributed to the world. If I were to apply your argument about broiler chickens, you are saying it would have been better if Gandhi or Kennedy were not born, rather than getting brutally killed.”

“Well, I’m not sure if Mahatma Gandhi and chickens should be compared.” I said.

“If you are talking about ethics, there is no difference. I believe that the gift of life the chicken gets as a result of our meat-eating is so great that getting beheaded prematurely is a small price to pay.”

Manas then called the waiter, and ordered another Tandoori chicken. “It’s excellent!” he offered his compliments to the waiter.

Ravi