Washington Post on Compassion Over Killing and vegan advocacy

[Guest guest]

Today's cover feature of The Washington Post Style section profiles COK in a

two-page story with six full-color photos, including one taken by a COK

investigator at a Maryland factory farm.

 

To see an image of the front page of the article, please visit:

http://www.cok.net/feat/article-wp-cover.php

 

To write a letter thanking The Post, please email letters.

 

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http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A40372-2003Sep7.html

 

Animal Pragmatism

Compassion Over Killing Wants to Make the Anti-Meat Message a Little More

Palatable

 

By David Montgomery

Washington Post Staff Writer

Monday, September 8, 2003; Page C01

 

Thursday and Friday evenings outside the Metro station in Foggy Bottom or

Dupont Circle, it's time for FaunaVision.

 

The side door of a white van is open to display a television screen. Hearing

the elegiac piano soundtrack, curious about the flickering images, people on

their way to dinner pause and watch.

 

They see sows living in crates so narrow they can't turn around.

 

Chickens caged for life so tightly they can't flap their wings.

 

Baby chicks getting part of their beaks burned off.

 

Pigs and cows dangling from chains on the slaughterhouse line, twitching.

 

But this greatest-horrors collection of undercover video, shot by animal

rights activists, contrasts with the sunny style of the group working the

crowd, Compassion Over Killing. Clean-cut in khakis and golf shirts, they've

decided that the animal rights message -- so often associated with shrill

moralizing and PETA-style fake-blood-spattering guerrilla theater -- might

go down better with a spoonful of sugar.

 

" We need to stop looking at this as all or nothing, black or white, " says

Paul Shapiro, 24, who founded Compassion Over Killing as a high school club

at Georgetown Day School in Northwest Washington. " For most people, " giving

up meat and dairy " might be a daunting endeavor. What if we convert two

people to be vegetarian half the time? That's the same as converting one

person to be vegetarian all the time, and it's probably easier. "

 

It's not a message of compromise. It's something perhaps more shrewd: a

message of welcome to flesh-eaters, on the theory that this will more

effectively bring about the meat-free millennium. They're like missionaries

for a vegan God who is not angry. She'll forgive you for sinning with that

Egg McMuffin, so long as you are sincerely working toward a better

breakfast. Hell exists -- it's there on the FaunaVision video -- but

salvation is as close as the vegetarian starter kits, recipe books and

restaurant guides that the group hands out while FaunaVision rolls.

 

They're that particularly Washington breed of true believer: more pragmatic

than absolutist. They gave up carrying coffins to McDonald's and chaining

themselves to circus doors. Now they hand out free vegetarian food. They

befriend, rather than condemn, purveyors of pastrami and persuade them to

add a soy " bacon, " lettuce and tomato sandwich to the menu. (At their

urging, two local delis have just added vegan sandwiches and six more say

they plan to.) And they wonkishly work the federal bureaucracy, filing

complaints with the FDA, USDA and FTC alleging that the egg industry is

misleading consumers about hen welfare.

 

Is this kind of activism effective? Though the group has a small budget --

only three paid staff members -- segments of the food business consider it a

nemesis. A headline last year in an egg industry newsletter said,

" Compassion Over Killing: Demonstrating that you do not need to be big to

have an impact. " Another story said: " A classic example of David trying to

bring down Goliath is seen with the efforts of Compassion Over Killing. "

 

They've caught PETA's attention, too. " What COK is doing is as effective or

more effective than any small local group I can think of, " says Bruce

Friedrich, PETA's director of vegan outreach.

 

One evening in Foggy Bottom, as FaunaVision beams from the mobile theater

that happens to be a Dodge Ram, a woman is in tears. Her name is Stephanie

Showell, a computer science student at George Washington University. After

this video, she says, " I'm never going to be able to eat chicken again. "

 

COK's president, Miyun Park, 32, consoles her. Rather than focus on what you

give up, she says, " think that by doing something as simple as eating a

veggie burger, or soy milk, or a bagel with peanut butter, you are directly

helping animals. "

 

Americans eat more than 9 billion land-dwelling animals a year, the vast

majority of them chickens, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

 

This is what led members of Compassion Over Killing to an epiphany after

dabbling for a while in anti-fur and anti-circus campaigns: Something like

99 percent of animals killed by humans become meals. COK decided the most

efficient way to reduce animal suffering is to get more people to stop

eating them, and advocate better treatment of creatures raised for

slaughter. The tiniest bit of progress there would do the most good for the

most animals.

 

It was a practical calculation: " We wanted the biggest bang for the buck, "

Shapiro says.

 

As the group's focus evolved, so did its style of activism. If in the

beginning its members came off as self-righteous teenagers, it's because

they were.

 

Shapiro was a sophomore at Georgetown Day in 1995 when a friend showed him

an animal rights video with scenes purporting to depict standard treatment

of animals before they become shrink-wrapped supermarket delectables.

Shapiro was shocked.

 

" To use an animal-unfriendly metaphor, I was sold hook, line and sinker, " he

says. " I became a vegetarian immediately, a vegan a few months later. "

 

His parents were concerned. They took him to a nutritionist. The

nutritionist turned out to be a vegan herself, eating no meat, fish, eggs or

dairy.

 

That year he started his club called Compassion Over Killing and began

volunteering for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, one of the

largest and most flamboyant animal rights groups. In those days he carried a

backpack with buttons advertising his passions: Pro-choice. Anti-gun. Free

Mumia Abu-Jamal. Food Not Bombs. At a PETA protest outside a McDonald's in

Tenleytown, he carried a sign that said " The Meat Industry Equals Systematic

Murder. "

 

He majored in peace studies at George Washington University and kept

Compassion Over Killing going. In the early years the group favored

in-your-face stunts that frequently ended in arrest. COK members joined

sit-ins at the fur department of Neiman Marcus. They chanted slogans like

" Stop the insanity, no blood for vanity " and " No more animal exploitation --

the time is now for liberation. " Once they blocked the entrance at the D.C.

Armory that was to be used by circus animals. Once they chained themselves

together near a circus ring set up at MCI Center. One time Shapiro climbed

to the roof of a McDonald's to hang an animal rights banner.

 

Shapiro says he has been arrested about half a dozen times. Most of the

charges were ultimately not pursued by prosecutors, but once he had to

perform 40 hours of community service at the Whitman-Walker Clinic.

 

He began to wonder how much good he was doing for the animals.

 

During protests, he says, " we realized people didn't want to come over and

talk to us. People didn't want to come over and watch our TV. People would

sometimes walk across the street rather than just pass us, even. " As for any

publicity value, " the only news is 'animal advocates were arrested doing

this.' "

 

He also became convinced that most meat eaters aren't heartless and cruel.

Rather, they are . . . misinformed. And how are you going to inform them if

you are condemning them?

 

" We've come to realize that we often persuade more people by being friendly

than by being hostile, " Shapiro says. " This isn't a matter of stopping these

'sadists' from harming animals, because most of the time they aren't

sadists. Instead of telling people you are causing animal abuse, I try to

turn it around and make the proposition that you can end animal abuse.

Invite them to join this movement of compassionate people who want to do

what we can do to reduce the amount of violence in the world. "

 

Better, he says, " to make it as easy to eat vegetarian as possible -- not

only that it's healthy, but also that it's convenient, and that vegetarians

are very nice people just like the rest of us. "

 

By 2001, Compassion Over Killing had eschewed street theatrics and had

raised enough money for Shapiro to take a salary. Last year the group raised

$163,000. The three staff members are paid from $15,000 to $21,000, Shapiro

says. There are five nearly full-time volunteers and 2,500 dues-paying

members.

 

Park, COK's president, became vegetarian after receiving unsolicited PETA

literature in the mail when she was 19. She had just returned from a fishing

trip with her dad and was about to go out to a Roy Rogers restaurant for

burgers when she realized she could not eat meat anymore. She began

volunteering for COK in 1996 and was hired a year ago. " None of us became

vegetarian or aware of animal issues because someone was protesting in front

of us, " Park says.

 

Josh Balk, 23, the third paid staff member, had a similar conversion. In

high school, a friend showed him an animal rights video. His friend

considered it entertainment, but it made Balk cry. Within a month he had

quit eating meat, then became a vegan and now leads COK's outreach to

restaurants.

 

Shapiro works out of his one-bedroom apartment in Takoma Park. Always by his

side, even when he's on the podium at an animal rights conference, is

George, the three-legged pit bull/Shar-Pei mix he adopted after the dog was

hit by a car. On his living room wall is a framed original copy of William

Lloyd Garrison's abolitionist paper, the Liberator, announcing on March 24,

1865, that victory is at hand. Shapiro, who draws an analogy between

Garrison's cause and his own, named Compassion Over Killing's glossy

newsletter the Abolitionist.

 

He masks his outrage behind a poker face and a precise, uninflected voice.

Watch a video with him and he uses this voice to describe what he says is

happening: " These cows are one day old. They've been stolen from their

mother. Some of them have their umbilical cords still attached to their

bodies. . . . Right now they're castrating this pig with no painkiller. "

 

The phone rings. It's his mother calling to wish him a happy 24th birthday.

Will he celebrate? He tells her a restaurant in Rockville is having its

monthly fundraiser for COK that night, so that will be his party.

 

In the last couple of years, the group has focused on the egg industry. The

activists' tactics -- so friendly toward individual meat eaters and

restaurant owners -- turn tough when it comes to gathering depictions of

vegan Hell for FaunaVision and the group's Web site, www.cok.net.

 

Most laying hens live in group cages and are allotted significantly less

room to stand on than a sheet of typing paper. They never touch the ground,

run, flap their wings, see the sun. As chicks, the top halves of their beaks

are trimmed with a hot knife. When the hens have reached the end of their

natural laying cycle, rather than immediately being slaughtered, they may be

denied food for days, causing them to lose as much as 30 percent of their

weight and inducing their bodies to molt and lay more eggs.

 

Members of Compassion Over Killing have clandestinely videotaped inside four

Maryland henhouses at night. The videos show what COK says are rotting

corpses in cages, hens with their necks caught in the bars, hens that have

fallen into the manure pit. COK has " rescued " about 30 hens that seemed in

direst need of veterinary attention. Now those hens live cage-free on rural

property owned by allies.

 

" That's not symptomatic nor is it representative " of the industry, says Ken

Klippen, vice president and director of government relations for United Egg

Producers, the industry trade group. He says there are bound to be isolated

problems in a henhouse that may contain hundreds of thousands of healthy

hens, and Compassion Over Killing just picks out the worst-looking cases.

" An egg producer does his very best to go in there and look and be sure that

the chickens are treated humanely and any sick or injured hens are removed

from cages, " Klippen says. He adds that it is illegal for COK members to

enter henhouses and remove hens.

 

COK members have never been charged as a result of their uninvited henhouse

visits.

 

Gregg Clanton, vice president of ISE America, an egg producer, would not

comment on images that COK says came from one of his company's henhouses in

Cecil County, Md., but he says a producer has nothing to gain from skimping

on animal welfare. " If the birds are uncomfortable and not in a good

environment, they will not perform the way they are designed to perform. "

 

He says banning cages would only drive up the cost of eggs. " Do they weigh

the animal's life, which is genetically designed to be in that environment

to lay eggs, do they weigh that at a greater importance than the opportunity

of someone to go out and buy cheap food? " Shapiro counters: " Which do you

value more, efficiency or animal well-being? " The egg producers agree with

Compassion Over Killing on one thing: The hens should have more space. To

reassure consumers that the industry cares about the hens' well-being, in

1999 the producers convened a panel of university scientists who specialize

in poultry production and welfare. Adele Douglass, an animal welfare

advocate who also served on the panel, says the group was independent and

free to criticize industry practices.

 

The panel said the industry's average amount of space for each caged hen --

48 square inches -- was insufficient. The scientists said hens should have

at least 67 square inches. In response, the industry has agreed to a

voluntary goal of 59 square inches by this year and 67 square inches by

2008. (A sheet of typing paper is 93.5 square inches.) The industry recently

launched a marketing program based on the panel's work: The egg cartons of

producers that an outside team has declared to be in compliance with the

guidelines can carry an " Animal Care Certified " logo with a check mark.

Producers and retailers, including Giant Food, say the logo means the hens

live in " humane " conditions.

 

To COK, this is good and bad news.

 

" I'd be in favor of them adding one inch of cage space, " Shapiro says. " What

we don't want is egg suppliers to lie about what they are doing. To go ahead

and label it humane is where the disagreement lies. Rather than put on the

cartons 'Animal Care Certified,' they should put '67 square inches of cage

space per bird,' something that lets the public know exactly what conditions

these birds are living in. "

 

COK cites poultry science monographs that suggest that hens need 65 to 83

square inches merely for " standing comfortably and resting, " 144 square

inches to stretch their wings and 303 square inches to flap their wings.

 

Douglass, who heads a Herndon-based organization that advocates keeping

chickens cage-free when possible, says the industry does deserve credit for

taking the initiative, and she says the new guidelines improve welfare

within the limits of mass production. " To improve that space from a half a

sheet of paper . . . may not seem like a lot to you and me, but to the

animal it means a whole lot of difference. "

 

It's hard to gauge how much of a difference Compassion Over Killing is

making.

 

Americans ate on average 312 eggs apiece in 1971, according to the USDA.

Fear of cholesterol helped drive per capita consumption down to 234 eggs in

1995. Then the cholesterol picture got more complicated, and by last year

Americans were eating 255 eggs.

 

" I don't think it's reasonable to expect an organization as small as COK is

to impact national egg consumption trends, " Shapiro says. " But I do think

it's sad that all the efforts of the animal rights movement haven't changed

those trends dramatically. "

 

As part of the broader movement, the members of Compassion Over Killing take

heart in victories such as Burger King's addition of a veggie burger;

McDonald's outdoing the egg industry by requiring its producers to give hens

72 square inches of space and forbidding forced molting through starvation;

Florida voters outlawing tiny crates for sows; and a Gallup poll finding

that 62 percent of Americans favor strict laws on the treatment of farm

animals.

 

You can also sift for COK's impact in its daily encounters with people, the

evangelizing for the not-so-wrathful vegan God.

 

On a summer Saturday, members are handing out soy " chicken " tenders near

14th and U streets NW. They don't say anything uncharitable about the nearby

KFC. They just extend the green tray of tenders with ketchup for dipping,

like waiters passing hors d'oeuvres.

 

Ty Maxwell of the District tries one: " I'm actually shocked. I can't say it

tastes like chicken, I can't say it tastes like vegetables. It's just

seasoned really well. "

 

" When people say 'vegetarian,' you squint your face up and say, 'Oh, no,' "

says Denise Pullen, also of the District. " But after tasting this, it

changes your whole philosophy on vegetarian food. You can eat it. "

 

On a Sunday COK members set up their weekly display on the Mall near the

National Gallery of Art. The FaunaVision video -- narrated by actor Alec

Baldwin and produced by PETA with COK's undercover henhouse footage -- is

playing again.

 

Shapiro sticks out his hand and introduces himself to Paul Culliver of

Houston, but Culliver walks away. To a reporter, he says, " If we try to

change the course of nature and feed everybody grass and soybeans, what are

we going to become then? . . . That's what they grow chickens for, for

people to eat them. "

 

On a Monday at Pumpernickel's deli on Connecticut Avenue NW in Chevy Chase,

a man orders a soy-based vegan Reuben. Encouraged by COK, the deli recently

added nine vegan sandwiches, four vegan breakfast dishes and vegan pizza.

" We knew the market was there, " says co-owner Ann Doherty.

 

On another Monday, Shapiro visits one of the rural homes where " rescued "

hens live, a couple of hours' drive from Washington.

 

He stands among the snow-white birds, watching them run around the yard,

pecking the ground with what's left of their beaks. He contentedly ticks off

the natural behaviors he is seeing that he says they could not do in the

henhouse. " One of them is taking a single step. Another is foraging.

Dust-bathing. Feeling the sun on her back -- that's another thing she never

gets on a factory farm. Flapping her wings. "

 

He adds, " I think they're leading happy lives. "

 

And that thought seems to make him happy, too.

 

Copyright 2003 The Washington Post Company