Unfortunately, this isn't just a matter of productive capacity.
Mass production of meat has also become a staggering source of
pollution. Maybe cow pies were once just a pastoral joke, but in
recent years livestock waste has been implicated in massive fish
kills and outbreaks of such diseases as pfiesteria, which causes
memory loss, confusion and acute skin burning in people exposed
to contaminated water. In the U.S., livestock now produce 130
times as much waste as people do. Just one hog farm in Utah, for
example, produces more sewage than the city of Los Angeles.
These megafarms are proliferating, and in populous areas their
waste is tainting drinking water. In more pristine regions, from
Indonesia to the Amazon, tropical rain forest is being burned
down to make room for more and more cattle. Agriculture is the
world's biggest cause of deforestation, and increasing demand
for meat is the biggest force in the expansion of agriculture.
What has proved an unsustainable burden to the life of the
planet is also proving unsustainable for the planet's dominant
species. In China a recent shift to meat-heavy diets has been
linked to increases in obesity, cardiovascular disease, breast
cancer and colorectal cancer. U.S. and World Health Organization
researchers have announced similar findings for other parts of
the world. And then there are the growing concerns about what
happens to people who eat the flesh of animals that have been
pumped full of genetically modified organisms, hormones and
antibiotics.
These concerns may seem counterintuitive. We evolved as
hunter-gatherers and ate meat for a hundred millenniums before
modern times. It's natural for us to eat meat, one might say.
But today's factory-raised, transgenic, chemical-laden livestock
are a far cry from the wild animals our ancestors hunted. When
we cleverly shifted from wildland hunting and gathering to
systematic herding and farming, we changed the natural balances
irrevocably. The shift enabled us to produce food surpluses, but
the surpluses also allowed us to reproduce prodigiously. When we
did, it became only a matter of time before we could no longer
have the large area of wildland, per individual, that is
necessary to sustain a top-predator species.
By covering more and more of the planet with our cities, farms
and waste, we have jeopardized other top predators that need
space as well. Tigers and panthers are being squeezed out and
may not last the coming century. We, at least, have the
flexibility--the omnivorous stomach and creative brain--to
adapt. We can do it by moving down the food chain: eating foods
that use less water and land, and that pollute far less, than
cows and pigs do. In the long run, we can lose our memory of
eating animals, and we will discover the intrinsic satisfactions
of a diverse plant-based diet, as millions of people already have.
I'm not predicting the end of all meat eating. Decades from now,
cattle will still be raised, perhaps in patches of natural
rangeland, for people inclined to eat and able to afford a
porterhouse, while others will make exceptions in ceremonial
meals on special days like Thanksgiving, which link us ritually
to our evolutionary and cultural past. But the era of
mass-produced animal flesh, and its unsustainable costs to human
and environmental health, should be over before the next century
is out.
Ed Ayres is editorial director of the Worldwatch Institute and
author of "God's Last Offer: Negotiating for a Sustainable Future."
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