Book Review: Meatonomic$

David Robinson Simon. 2013. Meatonomics: How the Rigged Economics of Meat and Dairy Make You Consume Too Much--and How to Eat Better, Live Longer, and Spend Smarter. San Francisco, CA: Conari Press.

This book is well researched and extremely engaging. While I have been studying Nonhuman Animal rights issues for many years, I found a lot of new information in this book as well as some new perspectives. Simon makes the argument that the traditional three-pronged approach to animal consumption (ethics, environment and health) needs to recognize a fourth component: economics. 

So often, vegan advocacy portrays speciesism as a matter of supply and demand, but the elite control over both our food supply and our government makes "voting with your dollar" short-sighted. Even those who abstain from animal use still pay for the system with their tax dollars that subsidize meat and dairy advertising and the health and environmental damage that impacts our society as a whole. 

Advocates are up against a serious challenge: Meat and dairy industries are hugely subsidized and they use their strength to create increasing demands for their products and stifle alternatives to them. But we are not only paying for this out of our pocket, but also through skyrocketing healthcare costs, environmental damage, and inefficient food production. Nonhuman Animals pay the dearest price of all, as their lives are commodified for corporate gain.

I appreciated that the author did not spend time rehashing the same descriptions of CAFOs, but instead dedicated quite a bit of time discussing so-called "green" facilities, "happy" farms," and aquaculture. Indeed, one of the common retorts to vegan arguments is that animal production can be made sustainable or even humane. Simon goes to great detail to debunk these positions as mere fantasy. Producing Nonhuman Animals for food will always be polluting and resource intensive; it can never be truly sustainable.

My main concern with this book is that it does not make a strong enough case for veganism as I would like. On one hand, the author makes it clear that consuming animal products is both detrimental and unnecessary, but on the other, he gives people the option to simply "cut back." Because the author so often compares animal consumption to tobacco use, I found this unfortunate. Just as we would not advise people to cut down on cigarettes (but instead to quit entirely), we would not want to advise them to cut down on animal products. This is because maintaining the habit in any form usually works against people actually quitting. It maintains the notion that these products are something to be consumed, if only in moderation, when in actuality, they are highly dangerous and should be cut out entirely.

That said, I believe the comprehensiveness of the research and the topics covered make this an essential read for nonvegans and vegans alike. Importantly, the author creates conceptualizations of the material. Instead of spouting off statistics, he puts the information in perspective. How crowded is aquaculture? 27 foot long trouts are crammed into a space the size of a bathtub. For that matter, the complexities of elite-state collusion in the capitalist system can be confusing (probably a main reason why these gross injustices are allowed to perpetuate), but Simon does an excellent job at explaining them. For its ease of readability and its conciseness (it's less than 200 pages), I think it would be an excellent assigned reading for college courses. He also has lots of supplementary material hosted on the website, which I intend to incorporate into my lectures.

Finally, I really enjoyed reading his proposed solutions, which were quite sound. It seems that if a meat tax were instilled in tandem with some reconfiguring of governmental duties, some serious change could happen for Nonhuman Animals. We know that major social change does not sustain without the political structures to support it. However, we also know that without the public support for that institutional change, the interests of those in power can overcome any serious attempts to check their power. So, while I would love to see a tax and other restrictions that make animal products just as undesirable as tobacco, I don't see that happening until those powerful persons who stand to lose are challenged. That is, the system that allows a small group of elites and corporations to run our society must be challenged. That would entail some major collective action and a challenge to the capitalist system itself. So, while Simon might be suggesting that we start lobbying for a meat tax, I think we need to build a critical mass of vegans before that is a viable option.

Why the Abolitionist Approach Cannot Succeed

Kim Stallwood has been tweeting all day with variations of this request:

Looking for examples of animal rights laws passed by the implementation of abolition strategy advocated by Francione et al.
— Kim Stallwood (@grumpyvegan) February 24, 2014

Okay, I'll bite.

There are no examples, nor are there likely to be any in the near future. Abolitionism hasn't achieved much of anything.

But not so fast...

The prompt is obviously designed to elicit a simple admission of failure, but it is both leading and dishonest. Really, it reminds me of my ignorant white friends who blame people of color for being poor. It also reminds me of well-to-do people who blame poor persons for being on welfare. Or those who blame women for being poor, underpaid, devalued (or even raped). If they aren't succeeding, it must be their fault, right?

Social Movement Inequality and the Welfarist Hegemony

Most of us recognize that these positions are not telling the whole story. As with social inequality, the social movement arena also has a set of power dynamics that we must consider. In the same way that a patriarchy is set up to benefit certain groups (men) and disadvantage others (women) and a white supremacy is set up to benefit certain groups (whites) and disadvantage others (people of color), the welfarist hegemony is designed to benefit professionalized welfarist groups and disadvantage radical grassroots groups (this trend holds true for all social movements). Men and white people have all the money, prestige, and opportunities, and, as an extension of that, they also get to make the rules, dominate claimsmaking, and create meaning and ideologies that support their supremacy. Welfarist organizations are no different.

Even small non-professionalized groups can benefit in this system by adhering to the value-structure welfarists have created. Small groups might not have access to the huge pool of resources that PETA and HSUS have, but they can tap into the power of their claimsmaking and networking. When a small group rallies against gestation crates, for example, they are drawing on the ideological power of Mercy for Animals. They can also call on MfA for leaflets, volunteers, and other supports. If they promote ethical veganism and avoid reform campaigns, they get the cold shoulder and suddenly have a lot more difficulty finding grants and institutional support. Again, this is typical of all social movements. By way of an example, the gay rights movement is dominated by large groups like the HRC that prioritize reform (like gay marriage), while the smaller groups that focus on those issues that aren't profitable to the large non-profits (like gay homelessness) get squeezed out.

In a system like this, where large groups have dominated the ideological landscape and control almost all of the resources available to the movement, the abolitionist faction simply doesn't have a chance. PETA, HSUS, MfA, CoK, FARM, Farm Sanctuary, Vegan Outreach and others rake in almost all of the donations, they have all the state/industry/elite/foundation connections, and they enjoy the ability to frame animal rights and what "effective" activism is. In doing so, they make it nearly impossible for anyone else to advocate. Abolitionists (and other radical activists like those in the No Kill faction) are left with table scraps. We're shouting to be heard from down on the floor at the ankles of the big organizations that sit at the feasting table of the non-profit industrial complex.

My point here is that it is illogical to misconstrue social movement inequality with social movement inefficacy. If abolitionists had equal access, then maybe we could start to judge how well vegan education and anti-speciesist values could work. But we lack the funding, and large organizations refuse to give veganism a chance. What's more, they spend a whole lot of time denigrating anti-speciesist rhetoric and portraying veganism as "hard" or elitist."

Welfarists do Welfare

The other important problem with Kim's question is that he assumes that welfarists and abolitionists want the same thing. Welfarists want reform and they have the resources to seek reform, so that's what they get. As Gary Francione has explained, this success is easily achieved, not only due to the vast resources welfarists enjoy, but also because these reforms are mostly desired by industries that capitalize on public concern for animal welfare. See this new outreach poster he has been circulating:

In the words of Roger Yates, welfarists do welfare. Abolitionists don't want legal reform, we want abolition. In a grossly speciesist world that exploits billions of Nonhuman Animals and in a movement culture that more or less condones it, laws are wholly inapplicable. No law passed in a speciesist society will do anything to help animals. Lest we forget, the legal system is an institution designed to protect and promulgate the interests of the privileged. As Gary Francione explains in Animals, Property and the Law (echoed by several other legal philosophers like Lee Hall and David Cassuto), any law we pass in the current political climate will only work to cement speciesism. Abolitionists don't want legal change...at least not yet. One of the foundational principles of abolitionist animal rights is to first advocate for veganism and create a critical mass of vegans, and to then work to change laws to reflect these new social attitudes. With less than 2% of the American population identifying as vegan, we're not ready for legal action yet.

Abolition Strategy

I titled this essay "Why the Abolitionist Approach Cannot Succeed," not because I think it is a lost cause, but because I think we have some serious institutional barriers to overcome.  Vegan Outreach alone raked in a million bucks last year and then squandered it all on reductionist, anti-vegan nonsense. Just imagine what change we could make if the movement redirected its resources towards a genuine animal rights message. PETA pulled in about 31 million dollars last year. What if PETA quit labeling No Kill advocates as hoarders and started funding adoption strategies? HSUS pulled in 149 million dollars. What if HSUS were to stop colluding with meat industries and began countering them instead?

Do I think there is hope for the movement? For abolitionism? I do. I have dedicated my career (brief as it has been thus far!) to the position. I've seen the movement start to take notice. Kim and other big players in the movement are starting to respond. They are beginning to recognize that our position is a valid one...or at the very least a persistent one. After all, that is one of the main purposes of radical factions for any social movement: to keep the professionalized organizations that sell out to the non-profit industrial complex in check. Their wealth of resources comes at a cost. Incorporating into the capitalist model means their power to create structural change is effectively neutralized. Abolitionists may be disadvantaged in money, networking, and ideological power, but we do have the freedom from the bureaucratic non-profit spiderweb needed to keep our position honest. We can still afford to put Nonhuman Animals first.

Best Vegan & Animal Rights Literature & Outreach Material

As a longtime critic of popular vegan outreach literature, I am often asked what alternatives I would recommend. Many presume that the single-issue, reduction-based vegetarian literature plastered with donation requests produced by large professionalized welfare organizations like PETA, Mercy for Animals, Vegan Outreach, etc. are "better than nothing." Yeah, it stinks they won't say "go vegan," it stinks they don't acknowledge structural racism, but, they're cheap, glossy, and "better than nothing."

Well, that certainly isn't the case. We do have a choice. Some groups are making some pretty excellent outreach material.  I am a fan of the Boston Vegan Association's booklet (which is color, high quality, and free to abolitionists who fill out a contact form). Peaceful Prairie Sanctuary hosts lots of excellent printable flyers.  More recently, the Food Empowerment Project has released some astounding activist resources. In addition to their bilingual mini booklets and flyers, they have just launched a series of mailed newsletters (Food Chain) designed to retain new vegans.

Lauren Ornelas was kind enough to send me the entire set, and I have to say they are rather amazing. While these are not intended for handing out to random people on the street (they are better suited to persons who have had some contact with vegan activists or are otherwise already interested in learning more), they offer an important longterm outreach plan to those who are interested in changing their relationship with food. Each issue introduces different topics on food ethics, making the complexity of vegan politics more digestible. The newsletters are glossy with beautiful illustrations. It's not just depressing stuff; they also cover happy endings at sanctuaries, nutritional information, and excellent vegan recipes.

What I love most about the series: They are intersectional and they are vegan. Veganism is presented within an anti-oppression framework in a welcoming way. Importantly, these newsletters are designed to reach beyond the middle-class white demographic by specifically acknowledging human oppression.

So, please, skip the "Vegan" Outreach compromise flyers/donation requests. We can definitely do better!

Blaming Individuals for Structural Oppression: Why I Can't Stand this Vegan Meme

The following meme has been making its rounds on Facebook this week. I've seen it shared by Vegan Publishers, Vegan Outreach, The Thinking Vegan, and even, I'm sorry to say, Carol Adams. Well-meaning as it may be, I find it quite offensive and counterproductive.

The meme reads:

The difference between people who state veganism is easy and those who state veganism is hard, is those who say it's easy are focused on the victims, while those who say it's hard are focused on themselves.

Allow me translate:

The difference between privileged middle-class white people who state veganism is easy, and poor persons and persons of color (who are living under institutionalized oppression and are dealing with structural barriers, environmental racism, and food deserts) who state veganism is hard, is those who say it's easy are ignoring human victims, while whose who say it's hard are focused on themselves, as they're struggling to stay alive.

And the movement wonders why veganism is considered elitist? And why brown people and poor people tend to steer clear of animal rights activism?

If we want to succeed as a movement, we must strive to be cognizant of structural barriers and how oppression restricts the freedoms of millions of people living in the United States and abroad. Blaming marginalized people for their limited choices is unfair and cruel. Instead of tooting our privilege horn, perhaps we could widen our lens and work to dismantle the oppression that hurts and kills humans as well as nonhumans.

Framing Violence and Science: A Protest Goes Downhill Fast...or Does It?

My buddy and colleague Cheryl Abbate recently commented on an activist demo which involved several folks stalking out (or "staking out" depending on your perspective) the private residence of a female vivisector.  Activists staged a silent vigil outside this woman's home, and a bunch of counter-protesters were waiting to greet them. The animal advocates maintained their nonviolence, but were screamed at and spit upon.  Cheryl and others have been understandably shocked by the event, and because it was caught on camera, it offers an excellent opportunity for a little sociological analysis...

My first reaction to this event is to recognize that framing the animal advocates as "nonviolent" is not wholly accurate. These are people who have staked out a woman's private home. That is in itself a violent action. Vegan feminists, myself included, do not view this as a nonviolent tactic. Carol Adams has even recounted her own experience on the other side of a protest, as her home had been picketed once. It not only terrified her, but it terrified her children. You can read Marti Kheel's analysis of "direct action" by clicking here.

Violent tactics only continue to give us a bad name and support our negative stereotype. Tom Regan has identified this negative stereotype as one of the  primary reasons why our movement has been stunted and fails to flourish (see Empty Cages). For that matter, this tactic represents your classic single-issue campaign. As I have argued before, single-issues are a waste of time and a waste of resources. They ignore the root of the problem, and they single out particular (popular) species at the expense of others. They also detract from vegan education. You can read more about this in an article I've recently published in Food, Culture & Society.

On the other hand, I recommend Cheryl's essay on this bizarre interaction between activists and counter-activists. Sociologically speaking, it is interesting to see how the social problem is defined and how the power of patriarchy and science is used to dismiss anti-speciesist claimsmaking. Pay attention to how both sides frame the issue, and how both seek to capitalize on the perceived vulnerabilities of each. Jasper & Poulsen (1993) have published an article on this very topic: "Fighting Back:  Vulnerabilities, Blunders, and Countermobilization by the Targets in Three Animal Rights Campaigns." They make the argument that blunders can be capitalized on to achieve success. The disgusting behavior of the vivisectionists and their supporters captured on film might easily be perceived as a blunder.

However, two caveats: 1. How are we defining success? I don't think single-issue campaigns are strongly correlated with dismantling oppression (instead, they have more to do with fundraising and activist morale/ego); 2. We need to recognize the context of these interactions. We live in speciesist world. We also live in a world that has branded animal activists as terrorists. A bunch of strangers stalking out someone's home is only going to be perceived as a threat, even if they are "silent." If a bunch of "silent" people showed up at my home, I'd be dialing 911, I don't care what their moral position is. It's threatening.  Especially as a woman.  And the vivisector they were stalking was indeed a woman. Even male vivisectors who are targeted have families that activists should consider.

Neither can we ignore the white privilege inherent to these kinds of tactics. There is a reason most of these protesters are white. People of color are heavily harassed by the police: they are more likely to be reported, stopped, and arrested. Once arrested, they receive heavier penalties. In a society with a grossly racist criminal justice system, these tactics are inherently white-centric. So, when people parise these types of tactics, I read that as praise for white male approaches to social change. Using white maleness to fight white maleness, not surprisingly, isn't getting us anywhere.

So, in sum, I think the activists have no reason whatsoever to be surprised at what happened to them. I also think tactics like this aggravate our bad reputation and squander resources. We have limited time, money, and personpower...we should be investing what little we have into vegan education...not stunts like these that are bound to backfire. These stunts are about two things 1. Fundraising and 2. Giving activists the feeling that they're "doing something" for the animals...because, frankly, vegan education isn't glamorous work, it's feminized, and it won't get you a bunch of Youtube hits.  But it's the necessary foundational work that we must embrace if we want to enact change.

To Charge or Not to Charge? Improving Conference Accessibility for Low-Income Persons

I lived in Fort Collins, Colorado for about four years, which was only a little bit more than an hour away from Peaceful Prairie Sanctuary.  I love PPS, they do amazing work. They are the only explicitly abolitionist sanctuary that I know of.  Not only do they provide immediate relief to farmed animals, but they also work to educate the public, hosting visitations an providing literature for activists.  But in all the four years I lived on the prairies of Colorado, not once did I go visit PPS.

Why?  In addition to the gas money, event tickets usually cost thirty-five dollars or more.  As a person who has lived near or below the poverty line for most of my life, I just couldn't afford it (I grew up poor in Appalachia, survived on student loans and part-time jobs through college, and I currently teach for three universities and make about $10,000 a year).  Neither have I attended any major conferences for that same reason.  I use my tax refund money to afford my yearly pilgrimage to the American Sociological Association's meeting (a requirement for anyone hoping to land an academic career), which costs about $200 for membership, $200-250 for conference admission, and several hundred dollars more for travel and hotel fees.  I've heard that vegan conferences are sadly comparable in cost.

Which is really a bummer, because I would love to attend these conferences.  Like anyone who does animal rights "full-time," I want to learn more, network, and be more involved in the movement.  As a low-income person, that is just not a luxury I get to afford.  Animal rights advocacy is (and has always been) highly correlated with middle-class status.  Many conferences offer scholarships, but they tend to be extremely limited and generally do not cover the entire cost of attendance.

This is why I was so pleased to participate in the Western Ontario Vegan Society's conference on Friday. While the other three speakers were physically there, I was able to participate via Skype by paying $10 for an upgraded account that let me share my screen and present a powerpoint (believe it or not, $10 is still a lot of money for some of us, I ended up having to borrow from my mother).  There was no admission fee, this information was free to the public.  I was happy to present for free (free to viewers and nearly free for me).  For this reason, I am also very excited about my upcoming web-conference that I'm co-hosting with Animal Liberation Ontario.  It is available to those who cannot afford to travel to Canada, and it is also available to those who could not afford a ticket price.  The ALO has decided to make e-tickets donation-based.  For those who can afford it, they are encouraged to chip in.  The ALO is attempting to redistribute those funds to the speakers.  Whatever money I might get is going towards server costs for my vegan advocacy website.

My concern is that so many conferences insist on high ticket prices, and, likewise, some speakers actually require significant monetary compensation before they will participate.  Sometimes this is to cover travel costs, but other times it works like a mandatory donation that will be handed over to the speaker's non-profit of choice.
 
The tension here is between inclusiveness for low-income persons (a group traditionally marginalized by a largely middle-class movement) and supporting organizations that rely on fundraising for survival.  Where should our activist priorities lie? Should we reach out to those excluded from our outreach efforts or continue to support those already active on behalf of animals?

I am also concerned with the relative power that non-profits hold within the social movement arena.  Unlike individual low-income persons, organizations with non-profit status have a team of dedicated individuals, many of whom have expertise in fundraising and enjoy other resources.  Indeed, non-profits dominate the animal rights landscape.  While I understand that some smaller non-profits majorly rely on donations like this (especially groups like PPS), if I were to place non-profits on a hierarchy of concern with individuals who have been marginalized in our advocacy, I'm going to have to side with the individuals.  I am more concerned about including a diverse group of people, as it is this diversity and alliance-building that is critical for movement success.  Fundraising is important, but it should not be the central focus of our work.

I suggest that our movement is desperately privileged, and this is not a good thing if we seek to reach large-scale influence.  A movement that is mostly white and mostly middle-class is going to have difficulty resonating with the large numbers of persons who do not fit these categories of privilege.  True, organizers for many university-based conferences have the ability to request funds from their institution, but this assumption should consider a few points.  First, student groups tend to be grossly underfunded.  Secondly, Nonhuman Animal rights interests tend to go under appreciated (and even more underfunded).  For that matter, students who are organizing these events oftentimes lack the expertise, time, or social power needed to successfully request monies.

Our movement is highly professionalized.  Professionalization is a product of privilege and also a protector of privilege.  The voices of the vulnerable are systematically silenced.  I believe it would be in our best interest to start actively working to overcome structural barriers that so many of us face.  This is not simply a moral issue, this is a political issue.  Unchecked privilege and a disregard for accessibility will seriously restrict our potential for growth.

Groups should start exploring alternatives that are more welcoming to low-income persons.  And, for those groups that rely on admission fees to survive, it might be prudent to offer sliding scale fees (including free admission).  For those who require a fee to present, I would also encourage them to be mindful of the event's audience.  That is, I'm not sure it's very ethical to refuse participation (if that participation is of no cost to them, as is the case with web-conferences) if the conference organizers cannot guarantee deliverance of certain fees because of their desire to include low-income persons.  Of course, conference organizers should be aware that several funding sources may be available.  Organizers should also consider that, for academic conferences, academics tend to be reimbursed by their department for participating and should not be requiring any payment from the conference.

Graphic Animal Suffering, Secondary PTSD, and Abolitionism

The Secondary Trauma of Witnessing Violence against Other Animals

Yesterday morning I finally caved to the hype and watched Blackfish against my better judgement.  Of course, I ended up in tears, I got a headache, and my entire day was ruined.  All I could think about were the suffering orcas and the exploited workers (including many women) (and also that sea lion on the ice that was killed by a pod of free-living orcas and gleefully filmed by some violence-obsessed man who mocks female onlookers, telling them to "get out the kitchen" if they can't take the heat.)¹

In the mid-2000s, I was president of the Nonhuman Animal rights group at Virginia Tech, and one of the officers had set up a public viewing of Earthlings.  Because the movie had just been released, I didn't know what it was.  Going by a vague description my officer provided, I really had no idea what I was in for.  Within the first 5 minutes I was a complete mess.  Many persons got up and left, but feeling obligated as president to see the event through to the end, I somehow managed to survive the entire movie.  I was an absolute psychological wreck for at least a week after that experience.

Some vegan authors have noted that activists can suffer from Secondary Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, a phenomenon often experienced by the families of military veterans.  Make no mistake, the violence we witness causes real psychological damage.  While I think it is important that we have a knowledge about the institutions of speciesism, I question whether or not repeated exposure to this violence is healthy.

Neither do I think it is necessary.  While a graduate student in Bernie Rollins' "Animal Rights Seminar" in 2009, he instructed us that we must actually go visit a slaughterhouse so we can understand exactly what is going on and how to fight the suffering of other animals.  The thought made me sick.  Knowing I simply did not have it in me to do such a thing, I began to question my integrity as an activist.  I then posed the question to Gary Francione, who supported Rollins' suggestion.

I have been physically present in situations where an animal's life was at stake, and if I am powerless to stop it, the emotional damage is severe.  Specifically, these instances mostly involved fish, and no amount of arguing or crying or anything, really, will convince most people to release their victims (though occasionally I am successful!).  I can recount each and every instance where I have seen fish pulled from the water, struggling, frightened, desperate, and, in some cases, crying (Virginia has a species of fish known as "Croakers" that many "fishermen" use as bait) before death by asphyxiation or disembowelment.  These memories are fresh and unrelenting; I will carry these horrors with me all my life. My bearing witness without being able to act is psychologically devastating.

Violence at the individual level with at least the small possibility of successful intervention is traumatic enough, so I can only imagine if I was present in a slaughterhouse, where hundreds of cows, pigs, or chickens queue up for death.  There is no doubt in my mind that I would either go into a psychotic rage and attempt to disrupt the machinery or disarm the man holding the bolt-gun and ultimately land in jail, or, I would have a nervous breakdown and be committed to a hospital indefinitely.  Neither place would be good for me as a person, the movement, or Nonhuman Animals who will have lost me as an advocate.  I know that my mind and body are simply not capable of handling such a situation.

Abolitionists, Welfarists, and Intimate Knowledge of Speciesist Systems

I don't think we need to have first-hand experience of the inner workings of animal oppression to fight against it.  If I am working to promote veganism and end speciesism, why do I need to know the nitty-gritty details of violence against animals? Because welfare reform is just that, reform, advocates who seek to modify the system would indeed need to know the intricacies.  If reformers like Temple Grandin want to streamline slaughter, then, yes, she would need to know exactly how a slaughterhouse line works and what type of bolt-gun is being used and how the workers are trained, etc.  For abolitionists like me, it is enough to know that Nonhuman Animals are being tortured and killed.  That's all I need to know to work against it.

Reformers who want to abet the system will need to know the system as intimately as those who profit from it. In many ways, reformers become one in the same with the owners:  both know the operation inside and out and seek to make it more efficient.  Abolitionists, however, are not interested in improving the system, so we aren't necessarily interested in the intricacies of the system.  We simply know that it exists, it is unjust, and we must fight it.

Grandin's design for improved slaughter.
The work of the industry? Or animal rights?  Is there a difference?

Healthy Activism, Guilt, and the Androcentrism of Animal Rights

Do these films have importance for non-vegans?  Absolutely.  Morally shocking imagery like Blackfish, Earthlings, or a visit to a slaughterhouse often challenge one's awareness, and the emotional reaction can encourage meaningful behavior change.  But for those of us already fighting for liberation?  I don't think it's necessary.  I get the feeling that people expose themselves to this emotionally draining material out of guilt, and I don't think we need to be feeling guilty.  Guilt is wasted energy.

I also suspect that intentionally repeated exposure to this imagery could reflect the movement's fear of the feminine.  The androcentrism of animal rights activism has necessitated a disassociation from female "emotionality" and the embracing of violence-tolerant masculinity. Perhaps some, in attempting to "prove" their worth as activists in this male space, seek to demonstrate that they can "take it."  If it makes me a "sissy" or a "girl" because I don't want to see blood and gore and because I don't want to be distraught and emotionally tortured, fine. I don't think it's appropriate to be using the feminine as a pejorative, however.  Neither do I think we should be dishonest or dismissive about the real mental health implications of exposure to violence.

Notes
1. The quote may have varied, but I refuse to rewatch for the correct phrase.  It is also worth noting that, while violence surely occurs in the natural world, documentaries about nature tend to center violence, though  most of the nonhuman world is peaceful and symbiotic.  David Nibert and others have suggested that this social construction of nature works to naturalize violence, thus excusing human violence against humans and other animals.  Vegan feminists have suggested this also normalizes male violence and patriarchal rule.  That is, it's "natural" for males to be aggressive, and nature is so violent and dangerous, women and animals need "protecting."