And, of course, animals would rather not die. This is perhaps the central reason why it’s not ethical to go around shooting old people in nursing homes.
Not that I care about animal preferences all that much, either. My point is that the question of what to do with animals is not answered with animal preferences, and almost always answered with the asker’s moral and aesthetic feelings about animals, however much they sometimes wish there was an external objective morality to tell them (or, better, other people) what to do. Would we rather some volume of space be full of wild animals being born, living, and dying, or would we rather that volume of space be a barren wasteland? Would we rather some plot of land contain chickens living their entire lives in cages, or would we rather it contain wheat? I have certain preferences about these questions, which may not be the same as your preferences.
Given the status of the questions, the arguments about them fall into predictable patterns of emotional appeal (Wouldn’t you feel terrible looking at that barren wasteland where there used to be a forest?), Chesterton-esque reversals (I want hunting because I’m an anmial lover), and attempts to claim some kind of high ground (Chickens are basically stimulus-response machines with limited plasticity, therefore it must be fine to eat them). Not all such arguments are bad to make, and they can help people clarify their positions, but I also think they’re in some sense dangerous. If someone is looking for that One Right Answer, the danger is that they think they find it. I think strict negative utilitarianism (The One Right Answer is to minimize suffering) is an example of this failure mode.
And, of course, animals would rather not die. This is perhaps the central reason why it’s not ethical to go around shooting old people in nursing homes.
Not that I care about animal preferences all that much, either. My point is that the question of what to do with animals is not answered with animal preferences, and almost always answered with the asker’s moral and aesthetic feelings about animals, however much they sometimes wish there was an external objective morality to tell them (or, better, other people) what to do. Would we rather some volume of space be full of wild animals being born, living, and dying, or would we rather that volume of space be a barren wasteland? Would we rather some plot of land contain chickens living their entire lives in cages, or would we rather it contain wheat? I have certain preferences about these questions, which may not be the same as your preferences.
Given the status of the questions, the arguments about them fall into predictable patterns of emotional appeal (Wouldn’t you feel terrible looking at that barren wasteland where there used to be a forest?), Chesterton-esque reversals (I want hunting because I’m an anmial lover), and attempts to claim some kind of high ground (Chickens are basically stimulus-response machines with limited plasticity, therefore it must be fine to eat them). Not all such arguments are bad to make, and they can help people clarify their positions, but I also think they’re in some sense dangerous. If someone is looking for that One Right Answer, the danger is that they think they find it. I think strict negative utilitarianism (The One Right Answer is to minimize suffering) is an example of this failure mode.