Speciesism is a societal issue, but when those who believe that eating some animals but saving others is okay are the ones who have pledged to protect animals, the disconnect is mind-boggling, and it is an issue vegan veterinary professionals are becoming more vocal about.
Puppy Mill - image by Jo-Anne McArthur/HSI Canada
Veterinarians work tirelessly to save the lives of animals, the
majority working with companion animals. Day in and day out, they
spend long hours caring for cats and dogs, other companion animals,
too, often going to heroic measures to save them.
They have, after all, taken an oath created by the American
Veterinary Medical Association. Part of it states: “Being admitted
to the profession of veterinary medicine, I solemnly swear to use my
scientific knowledge and skills for the benefit of society through
the protection of animal health and welfare, the prevention and
relief of animal suffering, the conservation of animal resources,
the promotion of public health, and the advancement of medical
knowledge.”
Yet for many veterinarians, their food choices do not reflect that
oath, even though it does not specify companion animals. While they
may not be consuming cats and dogs, they are most likely consuming
other species like cows, chickens, and pigs. The irony, of course,
is that these animals have the same wants and needs as the patients
they treated that day. Call it speciesism, the mistaken belief that
some species are more important than others, at its finest.
Of course, speciesism is a societal issue, but when those who
believe that eating some animals but saving others is okay are the
ones who have pledged to protect animals, the disconnect is
mind-boggling, and it is an issue vegan veterinary professionals are
becoming more vocal about. “Why don’t more veterinarians ask why
they’re eating their patients?” says Ernie Ward. D.V.M., a
plant-based veterinarian in Calabash, N.C., and author of The Clean
Pet Food Revolution, who went vegan first for his health and then
animals because of the question he just asked. “Why aren’t more vets
vegan or at least more opinionated about why it’s okay to do every
lifesaving measure for certain species but not others?” Answering
that question is not easy and will require a shift among veterinary
schools and veterinarians.
How veterinary schools may be promoting speciesism
Veterinarians are no different than other individuals in that they
grow up in a world and probably households where eating meat is
normal. “They’re not any less immune to the deep-rooted cultural
messages we’ve all grown up with,” says Diana Laverdure-Dunetz,
M.S., founder of Plant-Powered Dog and a vegan canine nutritionist
in Delray Beach, Fla.
Trouble is, though, when they enter veterinary school, those notions
are often reinforced. “There is a certain culture that exists in
veterinary schools,” Ward says. “Although many will deny this, it is
a speciest approach.”
Ward describes how animals like cats, dogs, birds, and horses are
categorized as near-human, which means they are regarded as having
feelings and being able to feel pain. “From day one of veterinary
school, you’re taught to treat these animals like they’re little
humans,” he says.
Not so for other animals. In many schools, when veterinary students
do their large animal rotation, learning about animals in the food
production chain, the views shift. “The language changes and you’re
discouraged from saying things like ‘this animal is suffering’,” he
says, adding that peer pressure also makes it difficult to speak up.
“Although these animals are just as brilliant and loving as
companion animals, veterinary students are asked to blind themselves
to their suffering and emotional needs.”
That language shift is even more apparent when looking at some
schools’ curriculums. At Purdue University in West Lafayette, Ind.,
for instance, two of its food tracks are labeled as food animals.
“When you put animals in categories like this, it sends certain
messages about how we view and value these animals, which translates
into their care,” says Candace Croney, Ph.D., professor of animal
behavior and well-being and director of the Center for Animal
Welfare Science at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Ind.
Language is not the only variable driving this speciest approach.
Treatment of companion and food production animals also differs,
especially when it comes to pain management. “Vet schools teach that
if you can help mitigate pain, you can help the animal recover,”
Ward says.
But “them” refers mainly to companion animals, and when Ward as a
student questioned why they were not helping reduce the pain of
injured food production animals, he was dismissed. Discussion about
the pain these animals felt was shifted, and the redirect was
shocking, his professors lamenting about how pain and suffering
would decrease the animals’ ability to gain weight or grow. “It
revolved around the economic, not the emotional, toll, and instead
of discussing their pain, we focused on their economic value and how
quickly they could grow or how you could slow disease,” he says.
“It’s literally a type of brainwashing, as nobody would stand for a
cat or dog having a gaping wound and not treating that animal.”
This is a tough lesson today’s veterinary students have to swallow.
“Although we are never taught to provide a lower standard of care
based on the species, the evolution of a bovine and canine, for
instance, has been markedly influenced by humans—one was bred for
companionship and protection and the other for food,” says Hannah
DeZara, a vegan veterinary student in the class of 2023 at Colorado
State University in Fort Collins, Colo., who does not believe her
school is inherently speciest in its veterinary education “This
notion of putting roles on species still exists today, and because
of this, the way we decide their treatment plan is still in part
dependent on the role they play in society, which is just a hard
truth.”
The rise of animal welfare and ethics courses in schools
Some change is underfoot, though, as more veterinary schools are
introducing animal welfare and ethics into their curriculum, some
even offering classes in these topics. “Ten years ago, I would have
said there are relatively few to very few colleges with even one
course on animal welfare,” Croney says. “But when the AVMA oath came
out, schools started putting more emphasis on animal welfare.”
All students at Colorado State, for instance, are required to take
an animal welfare class, making it one of the only veterinary
schools in the country to offer this as part of its core curriculum.
Topics include everything from zoo animal welfare to foie gras
production along with welfare being an essential aspect of a
veterinarian’s obligations.
Yet classes do not have animal rights guest speakers or lectures
dedicated to veganism, something DeZara does not believe veterinary
schools bear a responsibility to teach. “Being a vegan or meat-eater
does not make you a better veterinarian,” she says. But she does
believe animal welfare, which dovetails with animal rights, should
be an integral part of the education, which can then help
veterinarians decide whether a plant-based diet is best for them.
While animal welfare is one thing, animal ethics is another, and
that is one topic schools are not addressing as well, something
Croney hopes will change, as animal ethics drives her classes.
“There is a subjective notion of what’s good and what’s less good so
how do you determine what’s the right and wrong treatment of
animals?” she says. “Science can answer many useful questions, but
it can’t answer the questions challenging us today.”
Her classes explore major philosophies relating to the ethical
treatment of animals, and veganism and speciesism are part of that
discussion. Yet rather than teaching students to take a specific
stance, she encourages them to examine issues objectively. “I don’t
teach students what to think but how to think,” she says. For
instance, when it comes to issues about eating animals, they examine
why people eat meat, what the arguments are for eating and not
eating animals, whether it is right to raise animals for food,
whether animals feel pain, whether there are degrees of sentience,
and whether it is ethically consistent to say you care about animals
and their welfare and then eat them.
Teaching these topics is not easy, and they can often cause tension
among the staff. “These issues come at the expense of things that
are critically important to the practice of veterinary medicine,
which is why some veterinary schools have limited or no dedicated
coursework on these topics,” Croney says. These topics also
challenge what many of the veterinary teaching staff have been
taught, and many staff members become defensive when their long-held
beliefs are questioned.
Resistance is also real in the veterinary community. Just ask
Richard Pitcairn, D.V.M., Ph.D., Arizona-based veterinarian and
author of Dr. Pitcairn’s Complete Guide to Natural Health for Cats &
Dogs, who hosts a yearly conference for veterinarians where all food
is vegan. “Some will not attend anymore because of it,” he says.
“Others, however, have changed their diet as a result.”
So should veterinarians be vegan?
While it is important to examine the role a veterinarians’ education
may play in shaping his or her philosophies, there is an even more
pressing question and that is whether veterinarians have a
professional responsibility to be vegan. If they have sworn to
protect animals, should they be eating animals when statistics show
that 97 to 99 percent of the meat in the U.S. diet comes from
factory farms where animals endure a lifetime of suffering?
This controversial question does not have an easy answer. “Because
many veterinarians are employed in food animal production, that’s a
tough sell, and I do not believe our oath requires this,” says Peter
Soboroff, D.V.M., owner and director of New York Cat Hospital in New
York City, who follows a pescatarian diet and acknowledges that food
animal production is an ugly business. “Veterinarians are doing
their best to ensure the health and well-being of those animals, but
there is only so much you can say because these animals are still on
their way to slaughter.”
Yet for some, the cognitive dissonance and disassociation is
alarming, which is why Laverdure-Dunetz recently penned an open
letter to veterinarians, asking them why they are not vegan. “I
wanted to remind them of what I consider are their obligations not
just to companion animals but all the animals they swore to
protect,” she says.
Of course, diet is an individual choice, and nobody can tell anybody
else what to eat, something Ward recognizes. But regardless of what
they put on their plate, he wants veterinarians to be a louder voice
for those who cannot speak, especially animals in factory farms. “It
is our moral and professional responsibility to speak for all
animals,” he says, adding that he has had veterinarians call him a
quack because he is challenging the notion of killing animals for
food. “These animals deserve to be treated compassionately and
humanely, something most of the world agrees with, and in being
better stewards of animal welfare, veterinarians should only condone
the humane treatment of animals.”
The same goes when veterinarians are tasked with inspecting factory
farms only to report that the animals are doing well. “Consumers are
being sold this romantic vision of small family farms where animals
are frolicking, but that’s disconnected from reality,” Ward says.
“We are stuck with this legacy of food animal production that has
morphed into this inhumane factory farming scheme, and that needs to
change.”
If veterinarians continue to turn a blind eye to the abuse factory
farmed animals suffer and not only support but also allow these
practices to persist, they may be risking their credibility. “The
public will wonder if they can trust veterinarians anymore,” Ward
says.
Instead, he suggests that veterinarians start asking questions like
if animals feel pain, what the emotional ability of animals is, and
how their welfare is being preserved, even how to make factory
farming more humane. “If every vet can say they’re treating cows,
pigs, and chickens the same way they’re treating cats and dogs—if
every vet could say that every animal killed for food is treated
just as compassionately as every dog and cat, we’ll have raised the
bar of humane treatment to an astronomical level,” he says. And it
is starting, given that a group of over 2,900 veterinary
professionals and advocates recently petitioned the AVMA to prevent
a brutal practice called ventilation shutdown on factory farms.
It would also help if veterinary schools placed greater emphasis on
animal welfare and animal rights. “If from day one veterinary
schools took the approach that all animals feel pain, all animals
have the capacity for emotions and all animals deserve the basic
tenets of care, that would change the next generation of
veterinarians,” Ward says.
In the end, becoming vegan still remains a personal decision, but it
is one these experts hope veterinarians will consider. After all, as
future veterinarian DeZara says, “A vegan lifestyle coincides with a
lot of the values of veterinarians, and at the end of the day, we
all just want to save animals while promoting animal health, public
health, and welfare.”