Mosquitoes and Morality
At the risk of becoming tiresome: another column on insects. Over the last week a watered down version of the “drawing the line” question had emerged here at Eating Plants. Is it less morally egregious to harm or kill a mosquito than a cow?
Trust me, I would like to avoid this question, but—given than I have no problem eliminating mosquitoes to reduce malaria in Africa and that if I find a black widow spider (not an insect, I know) in my bathroom I’ll kill her—I cannot avoid the question and, at the same time, feel intellectually honest.
I’m realizing that, in confronting a question of such difficulty, a lot has to be torn down before I can start building up an answer—which I hope to do in the form of a long academic type article. (This is what is so satisfying to me about the Eating Plants experience: I know with lighting bolt clarity when it’s time to write a real article.)
What I want to tear down here is the claim that because “we’re doing the best we can” to reduce animal exploitation by not eating animals, there’s no need to get overly worked up about swatting mosquitoes or initiating a June bug holocaust by driving down an East Texas highway in July.
My sense is that we resort to this “best we can” rationale to avoid admitting that a) we are intentionally causing suffering that could be avoided or reduced (by, say, not driving); or, b) it’s not as morally problematic to kill insects as it is to kill a cow. Both options are difficult for the ethical vegan to accept, but such is life when you engage it authentically.
My sense at this point is that we have to tear down “a” in order to build up “b.” We certainly could stop driving in order to radically reduce insect suffering. Driving is, after all, intentional. However, as I want to argue (in a longer article), we do not have to stop driving in order to reduce insect suffering—nor do we have to stop farming to eat vegetables. Why? Because insect suffering is qualitatively different than the suffering experienced by farmed animals.
I’m making this claim at this point without elaboration. But answering it effectively is critical to effective activism. Failure to draw a moral distinction between pigs and mosquitoes—a distinction that warrants different levels of moral consideration from humans—means vegans have accepted a standard that can never even be practically achieved. It is, in essence, to ensure our ultimate insignificance as a result of our self-imposed implausibility.
Am I shamelessly molding morality to meet reality? Perhaps. But I don’t think so. I believe that a convincing case can be made to distinguish our respective behavior towards insects and farm animals. In making it, I also think ethical vegans dramatically improve their chances of convincing people to stop eating animals. “A cow deserves moral consideration” is a much easier case to make than “a mosquito deserves moral consideration.” It might also have the benefit of being true.
Tomorrow: a report on my NYU talk.
PS: Thank you for all the wonderful comments to yesterday’s post.
For me, there is a world of distinction between deliberately killing someone for the fun of it (or for something we don’t need) versus killing someone in self-defense. I’m not talking about wholesale killing of large groups of a species (whether by chemical or mechanical means – thank you, Ted Nugent, you expletive), but the simple act of killing ONE mosquito or poisonous spider or scorpion or tick that is threatening my person. I think you would be hard-pressed to recruit many humans to a vegan diet if self-defense was disallowed. Even so, I use methods to repel and/or relocate predators if available, no matter the species.
I think I’m going to have to disagree with you on this one, James. I certainly agree that there are qualitative differences between pigs and mosquitoes that most likely cause them to experience the world differently (and I think we don’t understand well enough the perspective of a mosquito), but I don’t think we should declare that because there are these differences, mosquitoes are hands-down less morally significant than a pig is (or we are). This sounds eerily similar to the justification made for slaughtering pigs, cows and chickens (because of their qualitative difference from humans). I don’t think being vegan is about “arriving” at some static state of ‘moral perfection.’ Instead, I think it’s about constantly striving to live more ethical lives as we learn more about the world around us and our impact on it, and as we learn more about reducing harm in myriad ways. Rather than adjusting our moral lines in the sand to accommodate our imperfect practical impacts on the creatures around us, I think we should learn to live (uncomfortably!) with this imperfection, to talk about it (with vegans and carnists alike!), and to strive to be better. This might mean swatting that mosquito and living with the knowledge that it was not morally permissible to do so. Or it might mean leaving the black widow where she is or moving her outdoors (this might come after trying to understand her nature — they are notoriously shy, after all, and will do all they can to avoid contact with humans).
“Failure to draw a moral distinction between pigs and mosquitoes—a distinction that warrants different levels of moral consideration from humans—means vegans have accepted a standard that can never even be practically achieved. It is, in essence, to ensure our ultimate insignificance as a result of our self-imposed implausibility.” I think it’s actually WHEN we draw this line that we are not taken seriously. I’ve found that people take me much more seriously when I argue that I am engaged in an unending struggle to live more nonviolently (for humans, animals, insects, the environment), even as that is not 100% attainable, than when I have tried to draw distinctions between “more” and “less” significant creatures. I think it’s much more authentic and honest to say that veganism is about striving for nonviolence, that it’s not okay to engage in mass slaughter of insects and other tiny creatures, and that as vegans, we take on the responsibility to live with this moral imperfection and ambiguity.
I admire your general attitude of nonviolence, but I have to disagree with you about mosquitoes. I think they are indeed morally less significant than pigs — a lot less. In fact, I’m not convinced mosquitoes have much moral significance at all. While I think that wanton destruction of any aspect of the natural world is not something a virtuous person would engage in, I don’t see any reason why we should inconvenience ourselves to protect mosquitoes.
Is that all it takes, then, to declare something or someone as morally insignificant, to enable us to proceed with killing it, for convenience? Hmmm.
Science and common sense help. I could just as easily ask, “Is that all it takes, to declare something morally significant, in order to make it so?”
Ah yes, science, where they seem only now to be ‘discovering’ that some animals have feelings not unlike our own.
I’ll err on the side of caution and apply the precautionary principle/do least harm approach. That mosquito’s life is as important to the mosquito as my life is to me.
“That mosquito’s life is as important to the mosquito as my life is to me.”
So if you and a mosquito are trapped inside a burning building and I can only rescue one of you, I should just flip a coin?
Beautifully said, Katie, I agree wholeheartedly. A mosquito’s life is just as significant to her as a pig’s is to him or as my life is to me. Who am I to pass moral judgment? This view is what I understand as veganism. Compassion for all living beings as a goal. Now if a wolf attacks me for food, I will most likely defend my life and prefer it to his.
I live in the country and have rescue horses. Mosquitoes transmit West Nile, and while I have them vaccinated, other humans are not. So I do what I can to keep the population of Mosquitoes down. Maybe they do have thoughts and feelings and complex relationships that we’re just unaware of. I really don’t care, though. They can hurt people, spread disease, and annoy the animals I care for. Sometimes, you just have to be pragmatic.
I missed yesterday’s post, so this point may already have been made, but I think you’re on firm ground drawing a distinction between pigs and mosquitoes. While I give arthropods and other invertebrates the benefit of the doubt by not eating them, and by treating them with compassion when I become aware of their presence in my vicinity, I do have to admit that I am more concerned about the suffering of vertebrates than I am about the suffering of invertebrates.
This is one area of ethics where biology can be informative. I agree with Sam Harris that the quality of conscious experience (including the capacity to suffer) has something to do with neurological complexity. The preponderance of the evidence before us today indicates that the vertebrates are more neurologically complex than invertebrates, so we are justified in surmising that cows can suffer more and worse than crabs.
But, we could be wrong about that, which is why we should give invertebrates the benefit of the doubt whenever we can. It costs us little, and earns them everything.
The point of post Humanism is there is no god and therefore no life is not sacred. Take responsibility for those you choose to kill, humans and non humans alike
I have to say I agree with you James, but I also agree with the comments so far on the thread too. Just shows how morally gray these areas really are.
As an aside, I had to chuckle a bit at your description of creating a holocaust of insect destruction while driving in East Texas. (Is my chuckle an indication that I too value the life of a cow over an insect? I wouldn’t chuckle at the thought of driving and killing cows.) There’s only a few places I’ve been to with more bugs than East Texas. One is Alabama. I worked at Auburn University for two years and mosquitoes came to be my nemesis.
While I was happily capturing and releasing every other kind of insect (even roaches), I was, with equal gusto, killing mosquitoes. (Actually, I tried avoiding them when I could, but in Alabama it is nearly impossible.) While the natives where slathering on the deet and Off, I was appalled at the notion of putting poison on your body each day. (Yeah, yeah, all those “natural” remedies? They don’t work. Really. I tried them all.) My dogs couldn’t go in the backyard without an army of mosquitoes attacking them. Some days my yellow dog’s back looked black.
So what did I eventually do? I high-tailed it back to California where our bugs are minimal and civilized. I’ve encountered maybe one or two mosquitoes in the several years I’ve been back. My solution? Avoidance.
P.S. I should clarify, my chuckle was not at the destruction, but at the number of bugs in East Texas.
Well said, Katie. It is extremely problematic to try to draw a line. We keep discovering capabilities of other species that they had been claimed to not possess. Joan Dunayer made many excellent points about the problems of trying to draw a line in a 2002 presentation:
http://tinyurl.com/cxg33g We should be trying to cause the least harm while working to make the world a better place.
I agree with Rebecca about acting out of self-defense, whether the imminent threat is posed by a human or other animal, versus intentionally causing harm to a sentient being for other reasons. Motive is a major distinction recognized by our legal systems (although, alas, not often in regard to our treatment of other species).
We should be trying to limit driving and other harmful activities, for a number of good reasons. However, we should realize that some harm will occur if we are to live and try to make the world a better place. Hopefully we will end up doing more good than harm.
Even when camping, I catch and release mosquitos from my tent. If I’m sitting outside, killing one mosquito that’s trying to bite me isn’t going to stop the rest of them from moving in to bite, so I don’t kill any of them. I dress appropriately and shoo or gently flick the skitters away.
We don’t have them in this area, but if I encountered a poisonous spider in my home I would catch it and take it outside, away from the house. It’s easy to do so without coming into direct contact with the spider, or whatever the insect or arachnid is.
Obviously there are situations where deaths will result, just in the everyday business of living, getting about in the world we will inadvertently end up killing any number of organisms, especially insects. But I (personally speaking) can find no justification for the taking of a life if it is not necessary to do so, particularly when there are humane alternatives available.
I agree with Mr. Maher regarding “no life not sacred.” This is the foundation of my way of relating to the world.
WHOA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Major typo on my part. I meant “No life is sacred” and none of us treats life as such r we would not take anti biotics, use fossil fuels or brush our teeth/ Apologies for the typo — life is not sacred. to pretend otherwise is delusional
I guess I’m delusional, then, because I too agreed with your first comment!
Since I don’t buy into the concept of “sacred” as it is usually connoted, I’ll agree with you. But I believe life is important. Life is valuable. And life is to be honored. However, again, if we do not draw distinctions between bacteria and dogs, cows and mosquitoes, or humans and fleas, I’m not sure how we can live at all.
Too bad it was a typo because “There is no god, therefore no life is not sacred” is kind of cool. I haven’t worked out exactly what that means, but it has a paradoxical, Nietzschean ring to it. Perhaps “Because there is no deity to tell us that some things are not worthy, we are free to treasure all we encounter.”
(And if that doesn’t seem to quite fit with my comment above on mosquitoes, so be it. I am not commanded to treasure them.)
@Taylor A great backhanded compliment comparing my typo to Nietzsche — and an interesting posit you make! Thanks
I would add that your comment approaches the famous quote “The becoming-animal of the human is real, even if the animal the human becomes is not; and the becoming-other of the animal is real, even if that something other it becomes is not. (Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus 238)” in the sense that your use of “treasure” means an an awareness of inter species alterity. My point is that this consequentially involves actual killing which does not go away by means of spiritual beliefs or wanting to believe
I like that concept too.
Hahaha! Well, I preferred your version with the typo. At any rate, that is my view on the matter: no life is not sacred.
A very simple issue. Mosquitos are trying to harm us by biting us, killing them is self defense. “Food” animals are not trying to harm us, or bother us at all, killing them is needless violence.
Agreed that those two examples may be simple. Where it is not so simple is other cases. Should you try to catch a poisonous spider who is not trying to harm you or kill it? In catching it, you may be bitten, maybe not, if careful. Should you take the risk?
How about mice and rats in your house? How about coyotes who are harming pets? How about the driving issue? All those insects are just minding their own business, and our driving is killing them. Some areas are simpler than others in this picture.
Of course, mosquitoes are not “trying to harm us.” They need our blood to nourish eggs.
The males, vegan by nature, just sip nectar and fruit juice.
And I think your point is, which most would agree with, that it is not so important what is the intention. If a human animal, non-human animal, insect or otherwise is attacking, one can morally use self-defense.
Where it gets sticky is when one of the above is a potential threat, as in the case of the poisonous spider or snake in the house. Or the cockroach, rat or mouse who *could* spread diseases.
I practice the precautionary principle in these cases. Spiders don’t bother me, and will often eat the other troublesome arthropods likely to make it into my house. In the case of a potentially dangerous animal, I catch it and put it outside, looking for a place it would tend to find safe.
When it comes to mice and such I (luckily) live in an area where there are no-kill pest control services available. I realize that not all people have this option, but expanding those options would be a good focus of activism, I think.
I do the same, but would not blame James for killing a black widow in his bathroom if I had a child around. I’m afraid enough for my dogs and elderly father.
As for mice and rats, this is a really big thing for me. I have a special affinity to/for rodents. (Oh, what am I saying, I love all animals!) We’ve had rats for about two years now. I’ve tried some local “no kill” companies and, it turns out, they weren’t really no kill. They wanted to “euthanize” the rats with traps. This company shoots this foam into openings where rats and mice can get in to stop up holes, but if any are in the attic or walls at the time, they’d have to be killed or would die of starvation. I insisted on live trapping them. They brought me a trap and I did it myself as the guys would have let the rat sit in the trap for over 24 hours or longer before coming back to check it. Unacceptable. So I caught two in the night, but I let them out in the backyard, because 1) I didn’t want them separated from family; 2) couldn’t think of a safe place to release them. I figured if the holes were now filled with the foam, they couldn’t get back in the house and I don’t care about them in the yard or under the deck.
Soon heard and found more rats in attic. Called guys, they came and found a few more ‘holes’ to foam up and possible rat entries. Redux on the trapping. Almost $700 later, still have rats in the attic and under the deck and I think in walls too. So far, not in the house proper.
I’ve fretted and fretted what to do. My father says they need to go because of wire and insulation chewing. (Not to mention waking us at night running like a herd of elephants across the roof/attic.) Neither of us have had the heart to do anything about it though. I think I’ll just call them roommates at this point. Thanks for listening. Any suggestions would be welcomed.
P.S. The company has since gone out of business.
But this is my larger concern: what is better? Releasing the rats in a field, wooded area, etc., where they are not natural to the habitat, and more importantly, they’re likely just to die from a predator or the elements. They will be separated from their family, in a strange place they don’t know, scared and probably die anyway. Is it more humane to “euthanize” them?
Of course, since I haven’t had the heart, here they remain. For now at least.
Lori,
When my house had a rat problem, I had my landlord call a company that guarantees no-kill (and no-trap!). Basically, what they do is come into the attic and make a huge ruckus that will scare the rats away from the house. Then, they give an inspection to find any entrance points, seal them up, and replace the insulation in the attic to remove the scent of the rats from the premises. There is some chemical treatment to clean the rat scent out of the surrounding wood frames and such.
I was skeptical, but it worked! I stayed home to supervise the whole process, and not once did they trap or kill a rat. After they were done, no more rats. The whole family left together.
Of course, they probably moved to someone else’s home and got an exterminator called on them.
In a better world, we’d build communities that could incorporate rodents and other “pests” without them becoming a nuisance or health threat to humans. Sadly, we don’t live there yet.
I’d like to think the rat family lives on happily somewhere, but the odds are against it.
Lori, more and more wildlife hospitals are offering humane solutions and consultations for issues like yours (with the rats). We had that very issue in our home and like you, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything lethal. I don’t know if there’s a rehab facility in your area that provides this service.
At our hospital (Northern California) we always advised “exclusion” as the solution, because, in the long run, it’s the only thing that really works. The trick is getting in an expert in wildlife behavior who understands exclusion methodology and is adept at finding the various spots where rodents get into the structure and also understands the things that might be drawing rodents to the location, beyond nesting and shelter (usually food or water).
Once those places are sealed up and the environment is modified to be less hospitable to the animals, exclusion for all species — be they rats or snakes or raccoons — tends to be effective, and it’s humane. Not only are the animals not killed, they are not relocated to areas where they can perish for reasons related to territorial issues and behavioral adaptations. (In many states it’s illegal to relocate live-trapped animals.)
For obvious reasons, at our facility, we asked people to wait until after nesting season for animals like squirrels where babies would be orphaned as a result result of excluding the adults. Other species (like pigeons) nest year round so those considerations don’t revolve around a particular time of year. This is one example of a solutions department at a wildlife hospital: http://bit.ly/aPomPZ
Ingrid and Humane Hominid — Thank you for suggestions. Will try them. BTW, Ingrid, I’m in the North-East Bay Area, right east of Napa. Looks like that company may not come this far, but I’ll call them for a possible referral. Thanks again!
Lori, Wildcare (in Marin) is a fantastic wildlife rehabilitation hospital. I have nothing but the highest regard for them, so I hope they can refer you to a resource or two in your area.
No doubt you know much about the JAINS and their views on this important topic! I have ALWAYS made a conscious effort to AVOID killing anything -flys,spiders,ants et al., and appologize when I do inadvertently. I have since childhood and just surmise it that must lie in my DNA/Nature since it was never TAUGHT!!? Are we who care a different BREED of Human?
Sometimes I really think so.
The same rationale of honest examination of our food choices should be used to confront the racism, corruption, slavery, destruction and ecocide that occurs in our global food system. It’s not enough to eat plants and think our work is done. While it’s a big task – it’s worth exploring and discussing.
I’m looking forwad to reading your full article.
It’s not hard to understand every point of view expressed here. I’ve probably held each one of the various positions put forth by my fellow commenters, and I’ve definitely done my share of fly swatting, flea drowning, mosquito mashing, cockroach bashing, ant poisoning, wasp spraying, and spider squishing through the years.
But then I caught the vegan bug. Which meant that when I recently reread the book to which I referred in James’ March 11th blog, “The Insect Challenge” http://james-mcwilliams.com/?p=3425, I saw author J. Allen Boone’s experiences with animals, including insects, in a whole new — and bright — light.
What I took away from Boone’s tale about making friends with the gentlemen ants is that how we think about our fellow beings determines how they respond to us. In other words, how we regard creatures — whether with self-serving or unselfed motives — and thus how we treat them, directly affects how they regard and treat us in return.
If that’s a scientific truth, which I believe it is, then our interactions with mosquitoes and other so-called pests should follow the same principle.
Boone proved this “science of right relations,” one might call it, with a common housefly. He devoted five chapters to exploring his fascinating relationship with Freddie the Fly in the aforementioned book, “Kinship with All Life.”
Because I have moved from annoyance to not just tolerance but also appreciation and admiration for flies *and* mosquitoes, I see Boone’s story as a defense of the innate goodness and charm of the Culicidae family as well as the Musca domestica. (Note: I just learned that the word “mosquito” is from the Spanish and Portuguese “mosca” and “ito” and means “a little fly.”)
Background: Freddie buzzed into Boone’s house one day and began following him around, from bathroom mirror to study desk to kitchen table. Boone was riveted by the little creature, who soon felt welcome enough to land on Boone’s forefinger, to stand still in his palm for wing-stroking sessions, to come when (mentally) called, and to play endless games the human and fly invented for, well, humans and flies! Below are a few excerpts:
* * *
The heaviest opposition … came from the attitude of that legendary old social despot, [Boone's housekeeper] Mrs. Grundy. Mrs. Grundy, you know, disapproves of everything she does not understand, and Mrs. Grundy had formally ruled for all mankind that no one with the least bit of intelligence and self-respect would have anything whatsoever to do with a fly except to destroy the nasty little pest.
This murderous attitude comes from the conviction that humans and flies have nothing in common except birth, uncertainty, trouble and death. According to Mrs. Grundy, Freddie and I were incurable enemies engaged in a never-ending warfare in which no quarter could be asked or given, a warfare in which Freddie and his kind were constantly looking for opportunities to jab disease germs into me and my kind, while we humans were enlisted in a crusade to destroy every fly in sight, firm in the belief that the only good fly is a dead fly and the deader it is the better.
Mrs. Grundy thinks that while it may be permissible for a human to companion with certain kinds of animals, any such effort with a fly is absolutely taboo; any social gesture made in the direction of a fly, or any attempt to deal with one as an intelligent entity, is not only contrary to nature and common sense, but that any one found so doing should be turned over to the proper authorities for immediate attention.
Our venture right at the start had to face the fact of Freddie’s reputation and that, I have to admit, was awful. He was, by reputation, a worthless little bum, a nuisance, an outlaw from all respectable circles, a social irritant, a disease carrier, a ruiner of human health, happiness and peace of mind.
So like all flies, Freddie lived with a constant death sentence over him. …
One morning in the early days of our friendship, while Freddie was standing in the palm of my hand getting his wings stroked, I decided that it was high time to get a bridge for practical two-way thought traffic set up between us so that each of us could share his state of mind, as well as the beat of his heart, with the other. Such communicating bridges had worked successfully with Strongheart, with other animals, and even with an army of ants, so why not with this intelligent and lively little fly?
As I began the effort of trying to couple our minds and hearts in this manner, I carefully reminded myself of the two basic facts that I had always found to be of the greatest importance in efforts of this kind. (1) That inherently Freddie the Fly and I as living beings were inseparable parts of an interrelated, interfunctioning and all-including Totality. (2) That neither he nor I were originating causes for anything, but instead were individual living expressions of a universal divine Cause or Mind that was ever speaking and living Itself through each of us and through everything else.
With these thoughts in the forefront of my thinking, I began silently talking across to Freddie as a fellow being, just as I had learned to do with Strongheart. I would ask the little fellow in my hand a question, and then give careful heed to all freshly arriving mental impressions, the kind of impressions or sudden intuitive knowings I had been learning to receive from animals, birds, snakes, insects and various other kinds of wisdom-sharing kinsfolk. …
Before Freddie the Fly came to live with me and made such an unforgettable place for himself in my admiration and respect, my attitude toward flies had been one of uncompromising enmity. I thoroughly disliked them for walking around on my skin, for the way they bit and otherwise plagued me, for getting on my food and for even being in the same world with me. Then along came Freddie and not only broke down this ill will but taught me things I would never have believed possible between a human and a fly. …
One morning as Freddie was watching me shave, an idea came to me. It was this: that for me to know that my little companion existed at all, he first had to appear as an image in my individual mind. Otherwise I could not possibly be aware of him. First I must identify him as a mental image or idea, and then project that mental picture from the subjective into the objective state.
It became obvious that the instant that Freddie the Fly or any other living thing crossed the mysterious frontier between my not-knowing and my knowing, at that point he became my personal responsibility as far as defining and deciding about him was concerned. The defining and deciding could be original with me, or it could be influenced by secondhand notions. But in the final analysis all the decreeing about him had to be my own as far as my experience with him was concerned. Clearly, here was a universal law.
The first thing I did after recognizing the far-reaching significant of all this was to wash Freddie’s record slate completely clean. I erased all unfavorable qualification, all judgments having to do with him as a fly. Off went everything that I had ever heard, read or thought about flies that was the least bit restricting or unkind. It was a thorough purging. From then on it was I, not “public opinion,” who did the writing on Freddie’s life slate. From then on he became to me what I, and I alone, thought of him. And that sustained attitude toward my little companion opened the way for all the remarkable things which subsequently happened. …
There was no emotionalism, or sentimentality, or wishful thinking in all this. I simply was compelled to realize that as I identified Freddie as either intelligent or unintelligent, good or bad, friendly or unfriendly, cooperative or uncooperative—that is precisely how he behaved. For Freddie was nothing more or less than the state of my own consciousness about him being made manifest in our outward experience.
When my thinking about him was on a high level, as from one gentleman to another, all our mutual affairs functioned harmoniously. When occasionally I forgot and slanted my thinking down at him in a derogatory way, down went our relationship situation too; and down it would remain until my attitude had changed for the better.
… He was a model guest. He always knew what was expected of him and never once failed to conduct himself with thoughtfulness and consideration. … While Freddie had permission to do whatever he pleased, there was one social amenity that I insisted he must observe. He must not walk around on my face, hands or other exposed skin surfaces. I carefully explained to him that such walking on the human epidermis had a tendency to provoke the members of my species to violent moods and actions. He must have understood me, because not once during the time he lived with me did he violate this rule. He would walk all over my clothes, which had been declared “open territory,” and he would walk along the rim of my collar and the edges of my sleeves, but not once did any of his feet touch my skin without permission.
* * *
Lest Eating Plants readers accuse Boone of having special powers or Freddie of being a one-person fly, I should mention that the last two chapters describe a noted actor who, having heard via the Hollywood grapevine about Boone’s houseguest, dropped by unannounced to see for himself. At first, Freddie would have nothing to do with the late-night visitor and his blandishments. The rebuff by a common housefly stung the usually adulated actor, who asked Boone:
“Why is my attitude toward flies so much out of line? That’s the way everyone I know, except you, thinks about them. That’s the way the world at large thinks about them, too. Can a majority like that be wrong? After all, what makes this fly of yours so different from the others, except the interesting tricks that you’ve taught it?”
I told him I thought those were questions he should answer for himself. “But before you make the effort,” I added, “there are one or two facts that I should like to translate to you on behalf of Freddie, whose silent language of the heart you have not learned to speak as yet. To begin with, Freddie wants you to understand that he knows that all those friendship offers of yours were neither genuine or sincere, that you were just putting on an act for the occasion. Because of this he does not believe in you or in the things you said to him. As far as he is concerned, you are just a common assassin.” …
“The personality which you have cultivated and which serves you so well professionally and socially,” I said to him, “may be good enough for your human contacts, but it isn’t good enough for this little fly, as he has plainly shown you. When you and the fly came into visible contact with each other here tonight, he began making a swift and accurate inventory of you, not merely of your physical appearance and the sounds you were making in your throat but more particularly of the mental atmosphere you were diffusing and of the inner attitude you were projecting at him. He could feel all this as definitely as though you had touched him with your hand. And having totaled you, he doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. Looking at it from his angle, can you very well blame the little fellow?”
A long silence followed. Our visitor could have been in deep meditation, asleep, or even dead. There was no observable movement in him at all. At last he opened his eyes. “No,” said he slowly and with deep sincerity, “I don’t blame your little friend at all for treating me as he has. I really had it coming to me.”
There was another long silence. Then our visitor got up off the couch, came close to where I was sitting with Freddie in my hand and began looking at him with real interest. Freddie turned swiftly around and headed in his direction, but this time he did not take off for the ceiling. “Miracles, signs and wonders” were beginning to happen! Deep within his own being the actor had consciously struck a right chord in the harmony of universal kinship, and in the twinkling of an eye an understanding had been established between him and the fly. The actor knew this. So did Freddie. So did I. Moreover, I knew that the actor would never be bothered by flies again as long as he maintained that inner chord. He never has been.
oh cq, i was going to mention this book here as well!!! thanks so much for sharing it so extensively!
so happy you read it too! what a beautiful and eye-opening book. i recommend it to everyone that i talk too….
i was also going to mention another book which i treasure very, very much:
“Animal Voices” by Dawn Baumann-Brunke
it first tells the story how dawn realized that she was able to communicate with animals after first thinking that this couldn’t possible be right……
then she connects with different animals and interviews them. this book is a must-read for everyone!
there is also a chapter on Animals Eating Animals: The Predator/Prey Relationship
i always talk to all the animals that cross my path. last summer i had a spider on the outside of my balcony walls (which are made of clear glass). my cats went crazy trying to get to it only to realize that they were touching the glass……endless fascination
then one day the spider was on the inside of my balcony and i told her:” oh no, missy – bad idea on so many levels! i’m going to clean the glass later on today or tomorrow so you have time to move back to the other side again. plus you are very easy game for the cats if you stay on the inside too!”
the next day she was back on the other side again? coincidende?? i don’t think so!! things like this have happened to me too many times. once you open yourself up and believe that nothing is impossible you’re going to be surprised at all the little things happening in your life!
even though most of the times i don’t understand what they might be telling me in return i know for sure that they understand my message.
i mean, don’t you talk to your pets?? why not give it a try and talk to the mosquito too?most of the times (if not always) it’s all in the intention
love,
edie
Thanks for reaffirming, Edie, that it’s natural to interact humbly, honestly, and intelligent with all living beings. I’m so glad that “Kinship With All Life” is equally dear to you; I trust you’re also a fan of Boone’s other books: “Letters to Strongheart” and “Adventures in Kinship with All Life.”
I’m not familiar with Dawn Baumann Brunke’s book, but I expect I’ll love it as soon as it arrives at my library (I just placed a hold on it via the Interlibrary Loan system’s world catalogue). I see she’s written several similar books, including some for juveniles.
How kind of you to warn your spider neighbor to stay outside your balcony. After reading about Boone’s ants and fly friend, it shouldn’t surprise any of us that she responded — gratefully! — to your plea.
That is, “… interact humbly, honestly, and intelligently…”
i think you will love animal voices. i would love to hear your feedback!
and yes, i do know about the other boone books as well
This is very interesting to me. As many folks have pointed out here and in other posts, there are many parts of the world (including in the southern US) where the mosquito situation is just off the charts. And the threat of things like malaria, dengue, yellow fever, etc. is immanent with each bite. And you are exposed to hundreds of bites a day if not more, sometimes, depending on the season, where/how you live (many folks in these situations live partly or wholly outside), and the time of day. It’s a situation which, for those of us who’ve ever been in it, is just so very different from being around non-poisonous animals or from seeing just one or two. I don’t mean to harp on the practicality of it because the complicated moral issues are, of course, vital. But when you’re in the situation, as I have been, when hundreds of times a day you have to make a split-second decision about how to get a potential deadly disease-bearer off you, the lofty moral questions about speceisism tend to start arising as a very far second priority. And I actually think that’s okay; I don’t see it as incongruous with vegan ethics. I’m going to risk everyone hating me here by saying, sometimes there is only so much brain-space to go consider things, and having to consider every last mosquito in that situation is not literally possible, it happens subconsciously because it is a matter of survival. Matters of survival are pre-ethical and pre-frontal lobe. It is not equal to considering what/who we eat, and at some point I’m going to have to let myself off the hook for this. We all should.
And by *pre-frontal lobe I don’t mean the prefrontal cortex, I mean: survival issues arise in the part of the brain that came way before the frontal lobe, where our moral capacities take place, existed. You get the idea. Sorry for typos, I’m tired.
Yes – Thank you very much carolyn z – I’m certainly not one of the ones to spread the “hate” on you for pointing out that we may indeed only have so much “brain-space” to consider the tiniest of (biting) beings to consider while we go about the other demands of living.
The sweeter notions about Freddie Fly, Tommy the Tick and Frank the Flea might work with humans who have much more patience and “heart” than I. But then I have to consider what these creatures do to cows, goats, pigs, dogs, cats and us. It’s hard to attribute the proper respect that others think they are due.
I’m also in the self-defense mind-set… I’d love ‘em a lot more if they didn’t harm me or mine first. But can you imagine someday when we finally “free” ourselves to the point of actually considering these mosquitos welcome? Who’s the first one to buy and use a mosquito attractant?
Thank you, Carolyn.
j
Thank you for another well thought-out article, in turn, causing one to think. Brought me back to my early childhood, rescuing & caring for outdoor birds. Young adulthood, literally: “cannot kill a fly.” Shoo~ Shoo~ Walking through hospital tunnels in nursing school. A large bug, injured, squirming. I walked passed it, quite some distance, “Its ONLY a bug.” I needed to return to finish off the job with my shoe. I needed to end the bug’s suffering. Culture & society teaches us to kill that which is repulsive &/or threatening. Many are seen as “fools,” caring so for bugs & animals. Most are raised to be moral persons. And many are born with this trait. Through the decades, I evolved into being a “hands-on” animal advocate. And more aware of ALL life being precious. Yes, insects. And plants. Hence, reasons to not kill is multi-factorial. However, there is an initial gut reaction. For me it is to end suffering, immediately followed by healing. In summary: compassion, empathy, conscience. Morality. And, no-matter-what-others-think. Thank You.
Most of us are taught to believe that a mosquito’s life purpose is to breed bazillions of babies, bite vertebrates, suck blood, leave itchy welts, carry life-imperiling diseases, and make high-pitched whiny sounds — before being eaten by avian and amphibian species or crushed by vexed humans. I once believed most of those claims. What I expected of mosquitoes is what I experienced from each mosquito I met: misery.
That is, until I learned that I could think and feel differently, and get entirely different results: no bites, thus none of the accompanying aggravations.
I decided I wasn’t going to be afraid of or annoyed by a single creature. It no longer felt rational to give insects the power to control or harm me, any more than it felt right to exploit or harm them. It just seemed like there must be a better, kinder, saner way to interact with creatures, even so-called pests and plagues. Not because I was trying to avoid a guilt trip from killing them, but because I saw their presence as an opportunity to practice relating harmoniously with all life.
An illustration of how my change of heart affected my actions and effected a change in outcome:
Three summers ago a friend and I visited another friend who owns, boards, and trains horses in rural North Dakota. There was an unusual profusion of mosquitoes and biting flies, which made for unhappy humans and horses. Whether we were picking vegetables in the garden, baking potatoes on the grill, memorializing an equine at his grave, watering the flowers, feeding the horses and barn cats, or taking a walk, we were buzzed and dive-bombed by swarms of insects 24/7.
Despite not using insect repellent, I wasn’t bitten during our five-day stay. (If I was, there were no itchy sensations or visual marks to show for it.)
Unfortunately, my friend, who regarded the bugs as her mortal enemies, was soon covered with red welts. After that, she spend much of her time reading indoors. That proved beneficial, since one of the books she read was “Kinship with All Life.”
On our drive home, a lone fly kept us company. My friend was fine with him. Boone’s example had sunk in. The fly seemed to feel her ease. For when we tried to gently guide him out the window (we felt he would want to be free of the car’s confines), he insisted on hanging out with us for a few hours. Yes, we named him Freddie. We were sad when Freddie bid us (not bit us!) adieu at a rest stop.
This episode confirms for me the truth of Hamlet’s line, “. . . there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
Hi CQ – That’s wonderful that your spiritual energy keeps “pests” at bay… I wonder though — Since flies and other insects are the torment of nonhumans… What and how are they to deal with the annoyance?
Of the feral cats, rescued baby squirrels and a few injured possums that I’ve encountered they all came with an infestation of some sort or another… Are you saying that this was so because they thought it was?
I agree that as humans many times we make more of an issue that what it actually is – And the “problem” becomes bigger than ourselves. But what of our furry friends?
I would’ve asked the same rational question of me were I you, Bea!
It sounds crazy that thoughts, whether held by a human or a nonhuman, would attract or repel pests, doesn’t it?
To me, an animal is always innocent, and can’t — and wouldn’t — knowingly ask for, expect, or submit to a disease or an annoyance. Nor could — or would — an innocent animal cause or pass along an infestation, an illness, an infection.
And yet, just as we humans train nonhumans to do any number of things, from fetching a stick to responding when called for dinner, so do we unwittingly train them with our predictions — whether silent or verbalized — about disease. When their thoughts, acting like antennae, are tuned into ours, they readily pick up on our fears, to the point that they manifest those fears on their bodies.
I’ve seen evidence that our fear-laden thoughts (both individual and collective) are unconsciously conveyed to the animals we’re thinking about, whether or not the animals are in our presence, whether or not they’re domesticated, and whether or not they already have the symptoms of an illness or, to use your example, Bea, an infestation. Of course we’d never purposely influence our creature friends to be afraid of whatever we fear. It’s just that we’re ignorant of the ramifications of that fear.
Once I was hanging out with a horse who was in obvious distress from a skin condition, from the oppressive heat and humidity, and from flies landing on his face and body. At first, I was taken in by the image of an itchy equine and felt powerless to help him. Then I realized that I could change my thinking and that he would respond mentally, and thus physically, since mind (the greater) always controls body (the lesser) — though our corporeal senses tell us otherwise and though we’re educated to believe that physical causes (genetics, environment, etc.) determine health.
So, with simple, childlike trust, I turned my back on the disturbing scene and mentally defended myself and this innocent horse against the onslaught of human theories about overly sensitive skin, about the effects of climate, and about the inevitability of pesky pests. I silently insisted that both of us had a right to experience only harmony and peace.
After less than a minute of thinking this way — applying my “spiritual energy,” as you put it, Bea — I felt a deep-settled calm. I knew that all was well. I turned around to look at my horse friend. He was standing motionless, the picture of complete comfort. As you can imagine, it was a sight I’ll never forget. He remained at peace for the rest of the evening. (The little girl who was with me saw the remarkable change, and it made her so happy for the horse.)
Wow – I too would be happy for the horse relieved from all the pesky irritations of too many flies. It’s great that you are able to offer such benefits to others…
Wished I could have done the same for a friend who I gave an emergency lift to the hospital after a wasp bit her while she was hanging up a bird feeder. She had an anaphylactic reaction from just one sting. I don’t know… Maybe her frame of mind should have/could have been more receptive and trusting. (?) Maybe we could have calmed her allergy with harmonious thinking instead of going to the hospital. (?) I’m sure there’s lots of questions I don’t have answers to…
But in any case both she and I were glad to go to the hospital as her air-ways were 90% blocked… If only we had your focus and commitment to healing in other ways besides traditional medicine – We would all be the better for it. And we’d put a lot of doctors and pharma-industries in a new line of work as well. Honestly, that already sounds like an improvement.
I appreciate you conveying your non-corporeal understanding and beliefs. Thank you.