The experience of taking an animal’s life to sustain our own is sometimes painted as some sort of rite of passage, or even a profound way of reconnecting with our primeval ancestry. In today’s world of supermarkets and conveniently plastic-wrapped factory-farmed meat, going to the seemingly epic effort to take matters into your own hands, and doing it in a sustainable manner, does in a way feel like an accomplishment to be proud of…
But as I lay in bed last night, my mind still racing and muscles aching from a 14 hour day, I realised that this was part of the problem. Having to take direct responsibility for where your meat comes from should be the norm, and not the exception to be dreamily idolised on food blogs and thursday night SBS TV shows.
The sense of sorrow that hangs over the success of hunting and killing a wild animal (even one considered a ‘pest’ in the environmental context) is just another a reminder that “meat is a privilege, not a right.”
(Final quote: Rohan Anderson, Whole Larder Love.)