ANIMAL
PEOPLE is the leading independent newspaper providing original investigative
coverage of animal protection worldwide. Founded in 1992, ANIMAL
PEOPLE has no alignment or affiliation with any other entity.
Animals Matter: the case for animal protection by Erin E. Williams & Margo DeMello
Promytheus Books (59 John Glenn Drive, Amherst, NY 14228), 2007.
420 pages, paperback. $20.00.
Building An Ark: 101 solutions to animal suffering by Ethan Smith with Guy Dauncey
New Society Publishers (P.O. Box 189, Gabriola Island, British
Columbia V0R 1X0, Canada),
2007. 270 pages, paperback, $24.95.
I Care About Animals
by Belton P. Mouras
A.S. Barnes & Co.,
1977. 254 pages, paperback. Out of print.
Written as introductions to animal advocacy, Animals Matter
and Building An Ark will not contain much news for ANIMAL PEOPLE
readers; but they may be timely, useful, and appropriate gifts for
young friends who care about animals, and would like to become more
involved on their behalf. Either would be suitable for people from
high school age to recent university graduates. Both address potential activists who prefer to become
well-informed before reacting, who think about tactics and try to be
effective. Unlike several superficially similar handbooks which are
published as recruiting tools for national animal advocacy
organizations, Animals Matter and Building An Ark are both
essentially nonpartisan, somewhat of a surprise in view that Animals
Matter co-authors Erin Williams and Margo DeMello are employees,
respectively, of the Humane Society of the U.S. and the House Rabbit
Society.
Though similar in content and purpose, Animals Matter and
Building An Ark are structured quite differently, with a different
emphasis.
Animals Matter is written in conventional chapters,
presenting the issues in seven topical clusters. People who like to
sit down and read a book will tend to favor Animals Matter, if not
overwhelmed by the content. Much more of Animals Matter is about
problems than about solutions, not because the authors are
deliberately negative but because the problems tend to be much more
complex than such possible responses as not eating meat, not wearing
fur, and sterilizing pets.
Building An Ark is solution-oriented. Issues are outlined
relatively briefly, with more emphasis on conservation and
endangered species than in Animals Matter, and possible responses
are presented at greater length, albeit still in short formats. Building An Ark has the look and feel of a series of web pages,
meant for one-at-a-time reading, not necessarily in sequential order.
Unfortunately, while the factual content of Animals Matter
appears to be as sound and up-to-date as one could expect from a
book, Building An Ark includes significant errors, including an
assertion that the number of dogs and cats killed each year in U.S.
shelters is nearly three times higher than the actuality, which is
quite bad enough.
Building An Ark, produced in Canada by Canadian authors,
includes a note on the back of the title page that "New Society
Publishers acknowledges the support of the Government of Canada
through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program for our
publishing activities."
Though other branches of the Canadian government continue to
defend and promote sealing and the fur trade, there are clearly
internal differences of opinion.
Veteran activists, and probably most observers over the age
of 30, might describe both Animals Matter and Building An Ark as "animal rights" literature. The authors of both volumes are
certainly familiar with the metaphor and philosophy of "animal
rights," and the approaches that both volumes emphasize are
consistent with the mainstream of "animal rights" philosophical theory. Yet the phrase "animal rights" is not used prominently in
Animals Matter, and appears only twice in Building An Ark.
Perhaps this is simply to ease entry into school libraries.
Alternatively, one might view both books as essentially "post-animal
rights," in that the authors waste little time and ink arguing that
animals should be recognized as sentient beings, deserving kind
treatment. Instead, taking the agreement of readers about this
point as a given, they rapidly move from abstract theory into
practical response.
Paradoxically, this was also the approach of perhaps the
very first handbook for animal rights activists that actually used
the term "animal rights." I Care About Animals, by Belton P.
Mouras, appeared in 1977, just one year after the late Henry
Spira's successful demonstrations against cat experiments performed
at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City signaled
the rise of animal rights activism as a new chapter in animal
advocacy.
Mouras took note of the then young animal rights movement,
succinctly explained the differences between "animal rights" and "animal welfare," and seemed to take as a given that authentic
animal advocates would welcome the advent of "animal rights"
advocacy, as a more dynamic descendant of the "humane" and "animal
welfare" causes.
Mouras acknowledged that some aspects of "animal rights"
would challenge conventional and complacent "humane" and "animal welfare" thinking, but believed that accepting and responding
positively to the challenge would help to demonstrate sincerity to
the public.
Mouras, now 84, was the son of a disabled sharecropper from
the Louisiana bayou country. As a boy he successfully raised
raccoons who had been orphaned by fur trappers and coonhunters. In
his teens, he built a local ice cream sales empire, and tried to
advance the ideas that later built the Dairy Queen chain, but lacked
the capital and credit needed to put them into effect.
Enlisting in the U.S. Army two years before the U.S. entered
World War II, Mouras rose to the rank of master sergeant, retired
after 20 years in 1960, and found his real calling as national
director of livestock programs for the then young Humane Society of
the U.S.
Starting with admittedly almost no relevant knowledge
whatever, Mouras rapidly absorbed everything he could learn about
every phase of humane work, bringing to it the perspective of an
experienced outsider, and an entrepreneurial spirit that both
rapidly increased the revenue of every organization he worked with,
and attracted considerable suspicion from observers on all sides of
the issues.
Splitting with HSUS after the death of founder Fred Myers,
Mouras in 1968 started the Animal Protection Institute with $5,000 borrowed from International Society for Animal Rights founder Helen
Jones. API under Mouras pioneered direct mail fundraising, made
aggressive use of newspaper ads to boost campaigns and attract new
donors, and weathered lawsuits from HSUS and several other established organizations.
An internal coup d'etat eventually ousted Mouras and
effectively disabled API, which recently merged into Born Free USA
after 20-odd relatively undistinguished years under other leaders.
Mouras went on to found United Animal Nations and the annual Summit
for the Animals conference of animal advocacy group leaders. He was
also instrumental in the growth of Primarily Primates.
I Care About Animals mixed scraps of autobiography with
summaries of major animal issues as Mouras perceived them 30 years
ago, some overview of animal advocacy history, and a great deal of
tactical advice, split into three categories: strategic advice
about organizational relationships, technical advice about building
organizations and running campaigns, and general advice about
persuading the public.
Mouras also included profiles of three of his favorite
allies: the late actress Kim Novak, the late Velma "Wild Horse
Annie" Johnson, and the candy heiress Helen Brach, who bankrolled
many of Mouras' campaigns, but disappeared shortly before I Care
About Animals went to press.
Mouras discussed Brach's disappearance, wondering if she
might have been murdered by representatives of animal use industries,
but did not anticipate that the perpetrators would more than 20 years
later turn out to be a ring who killed expensive race horses and show
horses to collect insurance money.
There was at the time still hope that Brach had for some
reason vanished of her own volition. Mouras wrote of her as if still
alive, and made no mention of her estate, which was meant to
benefit animals but because of a badly written will ended up
benefiting many other causes that seem to have been of little
interest to Brach during her life.
I Care About Animals outlined most of the methods that the
animal rights movement has used ever since, often with diminishing
returns as the times have changed. The only major amendments in
animal advocacy tactics since Mouras wrote have involved the use of technology such as videography and online communications that in 1977
barely existed.
Mouras spotlighted issues that are all still with us,
including sealing, whaling, the fur trade, dog and cat
overpopulation, wild horse removal from federal lands, and
laboratory use of animals. Williams and DeMello cover almost all of
the same topics, and Smith and Dauncy cover most. In each case,
though the issues remain, their shapes have evolved, and in only
one instance, the ongoing Atlantic Canadian seal hunt, has the
situation become demonstrably worse instead of better. In that
instance, the seal hunt was suspended for 10 years, 1984-1993,
before being revived and made bigger than before.
Despite some setbacks on almost every front, organized
animal advocacy has clearly had a positive impact, and most
negatives--such as that more animals than ever are being used in U.S.
labs--can be countered with context. For instance, that the
numbers of animals used in labs have increased because the volume of
scientific research now being done is as much as 100 times greater
than 30 years ago, offsetting the drastic reduction in typical
numbers of animals used per experiment.
The most remarkable aspect of I Care About Animals, in
hindsight, is that Mouras presciently anticipated the institutional
direction of the animals' cause.
Mouras detailed a growth-by-division phase in which new
organizations would split off and grow from the trunks of those
already in existence. After that, Mouras expected an epoch in which
founders of strong personality would often speak of working together,
while usually failing even to collaborate on projects of mutual
concern. During this phase, Mouras anticipated, leaders would test
a variety of different issues, ideas, and approaches, each
attracting some public support, thereby building the cause. Only
after that, after the retirement of the most fractious founders,
and after many years of donor migration to the most successful
groups, did Mouras expect the merger phase now underway, in which
organizations of converging perspective would combine strengths.
Ironically, Mouras seems to have later ignored much of his
own advice. Mouras began United Animal Nations and the Summit for
the Animals as efforts to achieve the movement unity that in 1977 he
saw as unlikely and unnecessary until collaborations and mergers
became inevitable. --Merritt Clifton
Dog Detectives: Train Your Dog to Find Lost Pets
by Kat Albrecht
Former police detective Kat Albrecht initially trained
sniffing dogs to assist in tracking suspects, finding lost people,
and finding cadavers. In 1997 Albrecht discovered that her dogs
could also help to find lost pets. After an occupationally related
disability prematurely ended Albrecht's police career, she became a
fulltime pet detective. Of her first 99 searches, 68 discovered the
missing animal or the fate of the animal.
Eventually Albrecht founded an organization called Missing
Pet Partnership to promote and teach the use of dogs to find lost
pets, following the "Missing Animal Response" techniques she has
developed. Her initial template was the protocol for training the
Search And Rescue dogs deployed to find missing persons. Albrecht
then adapated the SAR approach to the peculiarities of finding lost
animals, whose behavior varies considerably from human behavior.
Albrecht trains dogs according to three protocols: Cat
Detection, Trailing, and Dual Purpose. These use two different
approaches, the area search and tracking.
Area searches are typically used either to find an animal who
was last seen near home and is probably still nearby, or to find an
animal who has been tracked to a specific location such as a park or
warehouse, after which the tracking dog can no longer isolate the
scent.
Area searches are the primary method used to find cats.
Tracking is used to find animals who are believed to have
taken a specific direction, for example a dog who panicked during a
fireworks display.
Relatively few dogs who excel at area-searching are also good
tracking dogs. Most MAR dog handlers will need to train different
dogs in order to be able to do both kinds of work--and both are often
required as part of a single animal recovery. Some dogs can be
trained to do both jobs, but Albrecht tends to discourage the idea
of trying to produce Dual Purpose dogs unless the dogs themselves
demonstrate dual aptitude, partly because different kinds of
training tend to produce dogs who may be respectable generalists,
but are not as good at either area searching or tracking as
specialists.
A dedicated handler could produce skilled MAR dogs just by
following Albrecht's directions--but Albrecht's methods are also
quite rigorous, and require frequent practice. Training and using
MAR dogs is not work done casually. Neither is any dog suited to MAR
training, though Albrecht notes that dogs of the right personality
come in range of breeds and sizes.
Albrecht would like every community to have a trained MAR dog
team on call. How many MAR dogs any given community could support is
open to question, since MAR work is not lucrative, if compensated
at all. However, almost every shelter director and animal control
officer encounters frequent situations in which a MAR team could
help. --Merritt Clifton
The Longest Struggle: Animal Advocacy from Pythagoras to PETA
by Norm Phelps
Lantern Books (1 Union Square West, Suite 201,
New York, NY 10003), 2007. 367 pages,
paperback. $20.00.
If anyone wrote a history of animal
advocacy before Noah built the ark, it missed
the boat. Histories of animal advocacy have
mostly missed the boat ever since.
Many have been plagued by the usual
vexations of historians: lost sources, missing
pieces of contextual understanding, and partisan
ax-grinding, sometimes by the authors, more
often by surviving sources who take the
opportunity to posture over the achievements and
failures of the deceased.
A complicating factor, not afflicting
most histories, is that the subjects of animal
advocacy not only cannot speak for themselves
here and now, but never could and never did.
Some narratives survive even from slaves and
victims of genocide, but there are no
clandestinely scribbled memoirs to be found from
the Little Brown Dog, the Silver Spring monkeys,
or any Atlantic Canadian harp seals.
The frustrating aspect of The Longest
Struggle is that Norm Phelps covers so much, so
well, that the errors and omissions are
especially glaring--and, one suspects, could
have been corrected with some well-informed
proofreading.
To Phelps' credit, he acknowledges and
adequately covers the influence on animal
advocacy of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism,
which have been glaringly overlooked in most
previous histories of animal advocacy--at least
in the west. Unfortunately, after summarizing
these sources of ideas, Pythagoreanism, and the
major pro-animal teachings originating out of
Judaism, Phelps leaps 1,200 years, from Jesus
to St. Francis, in a mere two pages, with only
one passing mention of Islam, none of Mohammed,
and none of the Cathari.
This matters, because while Christianity
did little to suppress blood sport between the
epoch in which Christians were fed to lions and
the rise of Oliver Cromwell, Islam discouraged
cruel spectacles. While much of Europe tormented
captive wildlife as public sport, Islam harbored
the invention of zoos as educational
institutions, within which the animals were
supposed to be treated well.
The Cathari even more directly influenced
the west, as the first people who brought ideas
from Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism to Europe. Arriving by trade routes in the wake of the early
Crusades, the Cathari were educated merchants,
probably descended from the Thari people of
Pakistan and Rajasthan. Like the Bishnoi, who
still dwell in Rajasthan, they were strict
vegetarians.
The less educated gypsies, who were
teamsters, animal exhibitors, and meat-eaters,
appear to have traveled with the Cathari,
perhaps as servants. The language of those
gypsies who reached Ireland, called
Shelta-thari, was in the 19th century recognized
as a Thari dialect.
The Cathari had long since been
exterminated by the Inquisition, after their
teachings caught on so well in much of Europe,
including southern France, as to challenge the
dominion of the Roman Catholic Church. Though
what little survives of Cathari belief was
filtered through the perceptions of their
persecutors, traces of ideas can be discerned
that resembled modern Jainism.
Especially of note is that St. Francis
and several other saints who were contemporaries
of the Cathari seem to have appropriated the most
popular of their beliefs, including the idea of
being kind to animals, without the culturally
problematic moral opposition to meat-eating and
defiance of Roman authority.
Though the Cathari
were centuries ahead of their time, and St.
Francis may not have been the unequivocal animal
advocate that history remembers, as Phelps
discusses, the Cathari influence appears to live
on in the image of St. Francis and the work of
generations of pro-animal Franciscans.
Most of The Longest Struggle concerns the
past 200 years, and especially the most recent
50 years, in keeping with Phelps' thesis that
animal advocacy really only began to shift from
an "animal welfare" to an "animal rights" focus
in recent times. Ironically, this thesis might
have been strengthened by paying more attention
to the evolution of the American Humane
Association, which Phelps portrays as the
primary bastion of "welfarism."
Both "rights" and "welfare" factions were
active within the AHA from the founding meeting.
Internal splits over "rights" vs. "welfare"
issues produced the American Anti-Vivisection
Society (1883) and the Humane Society of the U.S.
(1954). A perennial problem was--and is--that
the AHA has always tried to maintain positions on
animal issues that harmonize with their positions
on child protection, the dominant AHA mission
during the first half of the 20th century.
For example, the AHA leaders felt that
they could not endorse vegetarianism because they
believed that the orphans in their care needed
meat. The leaders acknowledged that adults could
live well and long without it.
The AHA stalwartly opposed sport hunting,
including in a position statement issued soon
after the U.S. entered World War II, but
dropped this position postwar, as it phased out
operating orphanages. The idea was to seek a
political alliance with hunter/ conservationists
on behalf of protecting wildlife, but the
alliance never materialized.
Asked to endorse the surgical procedures
for sterilizing dogs and cats, while battling
eugenicists who favored forcibly sterilizing the
poor, the AHA at first respectfully declined; a
decade later denounced dog and cat sterilization
as "vivisection," though the AHA was not
formally opposed to animal experiments; and held
that position for 50 years, apparently
forgetting why it was taken.
Overlooking the internally conflicted
history of the AHA leads Phelps to other
noteworthy omissions. One is that the origin of
well-funded opposition to animal advocacy began
long before he supposes, with the formation of
some still extant pro-hunting advocacy groups in
the mid-19th century, the American Farm Bureau
Federation in 1919, and the National Society for
Medical Research in 1945, ancestral to the
National Association for Biomedical Research,
founded in 1979. The nucleus of the organized opposition
to animal rights was accordingly well-funded and
well-connected, warning the animal use
industries against threats that had yet to
materialize, long before the animal rights
movement existed.
Another omission is that there was
sporadic humane opposition to the Atlantic
Canadian seal hunt--and to a similar hunt
formerly held in the Prilibof islands off
Alaska--for at least 70 years before the
International Fund for Animal Welfare made
Atlantic Canadian sealing an enduring public
issue. Opposing sealing helped to rally the
animal rights movement, but this was a case of
new activists revitalizing an old cause.
At that, IFAW gets just one mention,
and the Animal Welfare Institute none, though
both were instrumental in developing the tactics
that built the animal rights movement. Friends
of Animals gets one mention. The founder of the
once influential National Alliance for Animal
Legislation is not mentioned; her successor,
under whom it imploded, is credited with her
work.
Most egregiously, Phelps writes of Best
Friends Animal Society cofounder Michael
Mountain, "Had he been born 20 years earlier,
Michael Mountain might have been a hippie in
Haight-Ashbury." Now 60, Mountain was a hippie
in Haight-Ashbury, though he spent much more
time elsewhere. Even then, Mountain and several
other cofounders were building the network that
became Best Friends.
Phelps does much better in tracing the
rise of the Fund for Animals and PETA, and the
evolution of HSUS. Phelps recognizes the
enduring influence of Henry Spira, who died in
1998 but whose strategic views and emphasis on
not eating animals are more widely appreciated
now than ever in his lifetime.
Phelps' overview is plausible, though
his statistics on animal shelter killing are 15
years out of date and--like others who fail to
correct for inflation--he appears to be unaware
that in inflation-adjusted dollars, the U.S.
retail fur trade has never recovered from the
sales collapse of 20 years ago.
There are other ways to assess the longterm
trends, especially if one gets the numbers
right, but Phelps' conclusion seems right on the
mark:
"Today's activists do not expect us to win
overnight, and perhaps not even in their
lifetimes. But they do expect us to win. A
generation of activists has come of age who did
not experience the disillusionment that their
elders lived through. When they came into the
movement--for the most part, within the past
dozen years--it had become obvious that animal
rights was a marathon, not a sprint, and so
they took up activism with no illusions about how
hard or how long the struggle would be."Because of this, they measure success
by a different yardstick than the activists of
the eighties. Instead of disappointment because
they cannot get everything they want, they feel
a sense of accomplishment at every
gain...Insisting on all or nothing is isolating
and alienating, and creates a siege mentality in
which we begin to see our own fecklessness as a
sign of intellectual and moral superiority. This
in turn leads to a kind of fundamentalism, a
holier-than-thou mindset that pursues strategies
designed to preserve our own moral purity and
intellectual rigor rather than to relieve the
suffering of animals."
Phelps wrote The Longest Struggle to help
empower new generations of activists, not to
carve a stele in stone for all time. It is the
most thorough history of animal advocacy
published to date, and when a more comprehensive
history is produced, The Longest Struggle will be
the one by which it is measured.
--Merritt Clifton