In the 1970s, as a teenager, I worked on a traditional dairy farm in England. Fifty cows grazed peacefully in lush pastures for much of their lives, each producing around 12 litres of milk daily, cared for by two dedicated herdsmen.
Fast forward 50 years, and I found myself visiting a dairy farm in China with a vastly different setup. Here, 30,000 cows lived indoors, bred selectively for high milk production. These cows worked intensely, producing 30–40 litres of milk daily, but only for two to three years before being killed without ceremony. Human interaction was minimal, as workers controlled operations from offices through programming machines.
This stark contrast reveals a major shift in animal treatment over recent decades. As the human population has exploded, so has the demand for meat, milk, and other animal products, leading to increased livestock numbers. However, the conditions for animals, especially those kept indoors, have worsened significantly.
Meanwhile, populations of wild animals have plummeted, a trend intricately linked to livestock expansion. Wild habitats are being converted into agricultural land, prioritizing farm animal spaces at the cost of wildlife. This unsustainable trajectory demands urgent reflection on how humans interact with the planet’s biodiversity, emphasizing our responsibility to care for all animal species.
My new open-access book explores this burgeoning scarcity and underscores our responsibility towards global animal welfare, beyond just farm animals. Enshrining animal rights is insufficient; the real focus must be on ensuring the dignified care of animals under human stewardship, or leaving them undisturbed in their natural habitats.
Should we be concerned? Over the last half-century, two-thirds of wild animal populations have vanished, primarily due to habitat loss from deforestation for cattle grazing and crop production for livestock. Combined, farm animals and humans now massively outweigh wild animals, with farm animals at 630 million tonnes, humans at 390 million tonnes, and wild land and marine mammals at just 60 million tonnes. Wildlife numbers have drastically fallen across numerous species groups, with three-quarters of flying insects gone in Western Europe and one in eight bird species facing extinction globally.
Philosophical debates on animal welfare have long presented two main schools of thought. Utilitarianism suggests optimizing good outcomes over bad ones universally, but its complexity often fails to mend our relationship with wildlife. Alternatively, some propose animals' rights to proper care, paralleling rights extended to nature elements like rivers and the atmosphere. However, this perspective struggles with humans' unique ability to assign rights, overlooking the diverse considerations for different species, from blue whales to insects.
Perhaps a more fitting approach involves recognizing our inherent responsibilities to animals. Such acknowledgment respects the rising rarity of species on Earth, acknowledging the uniqueness of life on our planet in the observable universe. There's no clear evidence of life beyond Earth, and the origin of complex life on Earth itself might trace back to a singular event when a simple organism harnessed a bacterium's energy capabilities, setting the stage for life's diversification.
Currently, species are being lost at an alarming rate of 0.01–0.1% annually. If this average rate continues under current human pressures, Earth’s biodiversity could face significant reductions in merely 2,000 years.
Should we protect something merely for its rarity? Not intrinsically. But life, with its extraordinary diversity, holds an inherent beauty. Humans draw joy from connecting with wildlife, and many social animals seem to share this pleasure. Destroying wild animal life threatens the natural systems upon which humanity relies: pollinators sustain agriculture, forests conserve soil and water, and predators balance ecosystems. Shrinking wild areas increase the risk of disease spillover from animals to humans.
Historically, humans maintained relatively small livestock herds, fostering substantial human-animal relationships. Recently, however, livestock farming has industrialized, leading to billions of farm animals globally. Animal transportation has evolved as well; once markets relied on foot travel. In 2005, while researching livestock shipping, I witnessed the transport of 80,000 sheep from Australia to the Middle East, where the journey induced significant stress and mortality.
This industrial shift in livestock farming has allowed widespread access to meat and dairy, but severely impacted animal welfare and wildlife. Rectifying this situation poses challenges. Society must explore consuming fewer, if any, animal products, restore wildlife habitats, and reduce the exploitation of Earth's natural resources.
Yet, hope remains. Animal habitat restoration efforts are succeeding, reintroducing long-lost species. Positive indicators for farm animal welfare also exist: Australia's plan to cease live sheep exports by 2028 and the decline of battery cage egg production suggest progress.
These issues are monumental. But as Confucius supposedly advised: "The man who asks big questions is a fool for a minute. The man who does not ask, is a fool for life."
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