Part 6 in the series Addressing Animal Welfare and Suffering
The last post in this series defined “sentience” for the purpose of discussing animal welfare. A sentient animal is “an animal for whom feelings matter.” Feelings of pain, suffering, anxiety, pleasure, contentment and more. This post about sentience was necessary to now talk about how we think about – and treat – sentient animals.
The unfortunate thing is, we value living things not by merit of their sentience, but by our own system of assigning extrinsic value.
We make a pet of the hamster, but poison the rat.
We do not value life because it is sentient life, but assign it an extrinsic value based on our perception of its value to us. John Webster wisely noted that,
“One of the first steps to right action is to acknowledge that our attitude toward animals is governed almost entirely by our own self-interest.”
It is a result of the fall into sin in the garden of Eden that selfishness is rooted in our hearts, and is itself the root of all we do. Our thinking and perception of the world are no exception, and our actions, by necessity, follow the same course. We feel selfishly, think selfishly, perceive the world selfishly, and we therefore act selfishly.
The relative values we assign to different animals are dictated by our fallen condition. In the end, the value of any animal is directly related to what we gain, not what the animal merits by its sentience and place among the creative works of God’s hands. We devote ourselves to compassionate care of a family pet or a prized racehorse, but think hardly at all about an aged laying hen in a battery cage, and seek to do active harm to a rat in our basement.
But let me say with clear affirmation: before God, they all share the same status: His Creation. Expressions of His Glory. We disregard this fact for our convenience.
Scripture does not:
“O LORD, how manifold are your works!
In wisdom have you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.
Here is the sea, great and wide,
which teems with creatures innumerable,
living things both small and great.
These all look to you,
to give them their food in due season.
When you give it to them, they gather it up;
when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.
When you hide your face, they are dismayed;
when you take away their breath, they die
and return to their dust.
When you send forth your Spirit, they are created.”
(Psalm 104:24-5, 27-30 ESV)
A story about the problem of assigning extrinsic value.
Over the winter, a horse came to the farm where I board my pony. His life is an example of how an animal’s extrinsic value can suddenly and lethally change in the eyes of sinful men.
We keep several retired horses at the barn, so when I first saw Max, all skin and bones, I assumed he was an old-timer living out his last few years in peace. As I got a closer look I realized it was more than age. Instead of a thick winter coat to protect him from the cold, Max was covered in long, stringy hairs interrupted by patches of baldness. His head seemed too large for his body; his skinny neck barely looked sufficient to hold it up. Where there should have been a thick crest of muscle, there was just palpable bone. I could feel every vertebra through his mane (an experience I did not know was possible, and should not be). Most of the musculature of his body had been eaten away after months of obvious starvation. Malnutrition explained his patchy coat, and his feet, which were rough, uneven, and showed deep rings – like the rings of a tree that show times of drought or disease. It will be a full year before a healthy foot grows out to replace all the damage.
A few days after I first saw him, I sat in on his first vet appointment with his new adoptive owners. Despite the wear and tear, he was in fair health, with just a nasal infection to worry about. But horrifying news came when she inspected his teeth and his tattoo: Max was only four years old.
Four years old. An equine teenager about to reach his maturity at the age of five.
He had been a racehorse and, like all racehorses, has a tattoo on the inside of his upper lip with a code that translates into his year of birth and an ID number. He was bred, as they all are, to make his owners a profit. His immediate extrinsic value was high: he could be their next stakes winner, their ticket to the Derby, or a valuable stallion after retiring from racing. He would have spent his first year on lush pasture developing his young mind and body, well attended by grooms and veterinarians, then gone into training after his first birthday. When he failed to be fast enough, his extrinsic value dropped through the floor. He was discarded as a by-product of the Thoroughbred industry. From the looks of him, someone determined his value to be below the cost of food and medical care and simply abandoned him. And so he languished until he was picked up by a Thoroughbred rescue and adopted by his current owners.
These pictures were taken after his new owners had been taking excellent care of him for three months. I can only imagine what he looked like before they intervened.
“Do you give the horse his strength
or clothe his neck with a flowing mane?”
Do you make him leap like a locust,
striking terror with his proud snorting?
He paws fiercely, rejoicing in his strength,
and charges into the fray.
He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing;
he does not shy away from the sword.
The quiver rattles a
gainst his side,
along with the flashing spear and lance.
In frenzied excitement he eats up the ground;
he cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.
What have we done to take this creature so far from the way God created him to be?
Adorned with a flowing mane? Leaping into the air? Rejoicing in his strength? His mane can barely grow due to malnutrition. His legs can no more leap than they can trot. His strength was taken from him by cruelty and neglect.
An old English proverb says “Show me your horse, and I will tell you who you are.”
What is in the hearts of the men who did this? Look at this horse and tell me who they are.
God’s very own creature suffered in the hands of sinful men. The work of God’s hands, meant to glorify Him and show His love and goodness to the world, was valued as nothing.
Is this what God had in mind when he gave us dominion?
“To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.” Prov. 21:3.
