Turkey Farming

I know this isn't a nature walk, but I found it to be so fitting for this post, so please bear with me while I try to make my point. I am currently taking an enviormental philosophy class in which we are talking about such things as the benefits of vegetarianism, genetic engeneering, and the not so humane treatment of animals in most conventional farming practices. We recently took a trip to the local turkey farm, located in New Sharon. Everyone loves a break from the classroom, so we all took much appreciation in the fresh air, sunny sky and seeemingly beautiful day. When we arrived at the farm, we entered the store where customers purchase their holiday turkeys and all seemed well, aside from the lingering smell of freshly killed poultry. This is where we met Bob Neal, lead farmer and owner of the turkey farm, which has been in operation since the 1970's. A great guy from the git-go, Bob seemed very passionate about his line of work, warning us that it's not always pretty. From here, we were instructed to put plastic booties over our shoes so that we didn't infect the breeding grounds because germs can travel through the soil, infecting an entire lot of turkeys. From here, we went outside and right to the breeding grounds. Unlike conventional turkey farming, the birds were out in the sun, running around and greeting us with loud turkey noises, gobbling if you will. Bob talked to the birds, introducing us as if we were all on the same level of intelligence. I couldn't help but giggle to myself, but I came to find that Bob might've been one of the most humane and honest farmers I have never met (not that I have met many, but I have heard horror stories of farming practices gone wrong).

Bob was proud to inform us that his farm composts almost every organic material that they use, do not use genetically modified feed, do not inject their birds with antibiotics or artifical flavor chemicals, and try to give the birds the longest life possible. Bob then compared his ways to that of conventional farmers and I'm sure almost half of us were ready to puke by the time he got to the issue of killing the birds. Ironically, while listening to his comparison, we were standing right next to the kill house, were they just happened to be killing their quota for the day. Bob explained that his methods were the most humane and despite the shrieks from the doomed birds, I admired Bob for his honesty about his work and his willingness as well as want to find and use the most decent approach when it comes to farming turkeys. Unfortunately, Bob is the only farmer in New England that doesn't use genetically modified feed and one of the few who actually cares about the well-being of his birds.

I feel as though Wendell would applaud farmer Bob in his efforts to find the most humane and beneficial methods when it comes to farming animals for human consumption. I really enjoyed Home Econimics as a whole, but especially enjoyed the last section of reading. Lately, as a result of both this class and my philosophy class, I have become so worried about where my food is coming from and quite frankly, have seriously been considering becoming a vegetarian. I do understand that we as humans have a biological desire to eat meat, however, I don't in any way feel that we have the right to impose pain and terror, as well as discomfort and torture on animals that we are raising and killing merely for our own consuption. Call me ridiculous, but I feel that animals are entitled to a somewhat decent life, even if the end is met by the chopping block. I feel that Wendell would consider farmer Bob as what he calls the "good worker," one that, "loves the board before it becomes a table, loves the tree before it yields the board, loves the forest before it gives up the tree. The good worker understands that a badly made artifact is both an insult to its user and a danger to its source" (pg. 144). Farmer Bob understands that a poorly treated turkey is not only an insult to him, but also an insult to the environment, as well as the humans that are consuming it. It also becomes a sign of ignorance, one that shows just how much we as humans only care about the production and quantity, not the process and the quality. I found Wendell criticizing the human race for this ignorance, and found myself slighty ashamed, knowing that I have a part in this ignorance. According to Wendell, we view nature and its resources as 'means that can be used to advantage' (pg. 134). Our carelessness has lead us to be what Wendell feels is wasteful, even though we try to claim otherwise. He then goes on to say that, "Our great fault as a people is that we do not take care of things...Labor is expensive, time is expensive, money is expensive, but materials- the stuff of creation- are so cheap that we cannot afford to take care of them" (pg. 128). I couldn't agree more and the more I find out where my food comes from, the more I frown on our race for our abuse of the things that nature lends to us in what we like to think of as endless quantities. The real truth is that we are not only abusing the privilage of using the environment, but we are using the environment as a mere means and not having the deciency to give back what we take. Granted, if more conventional farming companies turned to more humane and traditional methods, our food would be more expensive, but wouldn't it be worth it? Perhaps we could then actually call ourselves an intelligent race, one that could feed the whole earth while still having appreciation for where our resources come from and learn to take care of them, cause after all, I'm sure nature is itching for some payback.