Lesser Beasts - Book Summary

Discover the tantalizing tale of pork

Pigs. You either love them or you avoid them. But whether you're adding crispy bacon to your burger or abstaining altogether, there's no denying that these curly-tailed creatures hold a fascinating spot in human history. Countless people across the globe savor pork's savory flavor, and for cultures from America to Indonesia, a feast isn't quite complete without a succulent slice of swine. Yet, in some religious traditions, pigs are far from palatable; they're downright prohibited. So, what gives? Why does the pig provoke such diverse reactions?

Let's trot through time to unravel the enigmatic relationship between humans and hogs — a journey that spans millennia and multiple continents. We'll delve into ancient Greece, where pork was more than food; it played a part in politics and punishment. Then we'll scurry along the dingy streets of medieval cities, where the pig's appetite for garbage made it an invaluable urban cleaner. And finally, we'll confront the stark contrast between the pig's historical place at our side and the modern factory farms where many now reside.

Buckle up — we're going on a porcine adventure that promises to reveal why these creatures, dismissed by some as lesser beasts, have consistently piqued human interest, appetite, and sometimes, ire.

The ancient push and pull of pork politics

Imagine an ancient Greek banquet — and at the center of it all, a roasted pig. But this isn't just about indulgence; it's about identity. In ancient Greece, pork was a cultural cornerstone that helped solidify the bonds within communities and simultaneously served as a tool of assimilation or exclusion for those conquered. Yes, it was common for the Greeks to use pork, which abounded in their diet, as a way to "bring into the fold" those they had subjugated.

On the flip side, if you wanted to keep a defeated population at arm's length, you'd ensure they couldn't indulge in your swine. Pigs, and their centrality to certain diets, became both a form of integration and penalty, woven into the politics and power plays of the era.

Pigs: the original street cleaners

Fast forward a few centuries, and pigs had gone from the banquet table to the bustling back alleys of our growing medieval cities. Here, they weren't so much guests of honor as essential workers. The pigs were let loose in the streets and they feasted on whatever refuse they came across. Think of them as the original waste disposal units!

Cities, particularly in Europe, took advantage of the pig's propensity to consume practically anything. By chomping down on trash, these porcine scavengers played a vital role in keeping burgeoning urban areas relatively clean — or at least as clean as they could be by medieval standards. It was a pragmatic, if not glamorous, way for pigs to integrate into the society of the time.

The pork paradox of the present

As we examine how pigs are treated today, it’s apparent that their status has radically shifted from the past. Gone are the days when swine roamed the streets or were seen as a symbol of inclusion or exclusion. Now, in the age of factory farming, pigs often live short, confined lives, bred solely for consumption.

This change reflects broader trends in how humans have come to view animals — as commodities rather than as fellow living beings with whom we share our world. Our treatment of pigs has not only transformed the way we think about them but also how we think about the ethics of eating animals as well.

Our pig tale has taken us through the highs and lows of a species that has been by our side since the dawn of human civilization. So the next time you see a pork chop or pass on one, remember that you're engaging with a historical legacy that's as rich and complex as any human saga.

And that's the meaty journey of the humble pig — an animal that has been loved, loathed, and leveraged in humanity's unfolding story. Whether served on a platter or scavenging in the streets, the pig has earned its place in the pages of history, reminding us of its value beyond the breakfast table.

Uncover the surprising kinship between humans and pigs

On the surface, it might seem odd to draw comparisons between humans and pigs, but delve a bit deeper and the parallels are striking. For instance, our digestion is remarkably similar. As omnivores, we're culinary cousins, our shared anatomy allowing us to not only enjoy a similar diet but also to process our food in equivalent ways. We both possess a multifunctional stomach for protein breakdown, a small intestine to absorb sugars, and a colon for water absorption.

Now, let's sink our teeth into a more literal shared feature — our dentition. Back in 1922, what was thought to be a monumental discovery turned into a case of mistaken identity. A tooth, initially believed to herald the first human-like ape, thanks to Henry Fairfield Osborn of the Natural History Museum in New York, was actually the molar of an ancient porcine relative. This mix-up underscores the dental resemblance that pigs and humans share, defying what we typically expect from animals that look so different on the outside.

Delving into prehistoric times, we can see that this resemblance went beyond the biological to the social sphere. As ancient humans transitioned to a sedentary lifestyle around 10,000 BC, pigs were brought into the fold of domesticated life. Archaeological sites have divulged a history where swine and mankind coexisted intimately. From the human and pig remains unearthed in global village sites to the findings at Hallan Cemi in Turkey, where the bones of juvenile pigs suggest a regular culling for sustenance, it is clear that our ancestors had a vested interest in these creatures.

Yet, pigs were not merely common fare on the dinner table. They helped forge the very foundations of more permanent human settlements. Pigs played the role of living garbage collectors, consuming the waste that would have otherwise driven humans to relocate. This symbiotic relationship allowed our forebears to set down more lasting roots and change the course of human development.

This intimate association with humans comes into sharper focus when we consider how pigs were regarded, and even still are, as creatures to both cherish and shun. The very versatility that made them indispensable also sparked diverse cultural and religious reactions, some seeing them as unclean due to their scavenging ways. As we peel back the layers of history, the pig stands out not only as a biological relative but as a testament to human civilization's complexities.

The porcine paradox: From utility to disdain among the wealthy and religious

While pigs surely had their utilitarian role solidified in human history, respect for them varied greatly, particularly as civilizations evolved and class structures came into play. In the heat of the Middle East, the pig's inability to thrive became apparent. Pigs, unlike, say, goats or sheep, require cooler climates with plenty of shade and an abundant, varied food supply. These needs didn't align well with arduous treks in arid conditions — journeys that were just business as usual for other livestock.

For the upper crust of society, pigs became passé. The well-heeled, including bureaucrats and priests, started turning their noses up at pork, favoring instead the beef and mutton that the pains of poverty kept from the common man's plate. But despite the elite's snub, pigs persisted in their scavenging prowess, becoming an accessible source of sustenance for the lower classes.

Their indiscriminate diet, however, further sullied their standing. When you're an animal that's not picky enough to avoid dining on the deceased or delving into dung, you're bound to raise some eyebrows — and turn some stomachs. The pig, as a result, became associated with impurity in the eyes of many, especially in societies like Egypt and Mesopotamia. Here, bovines grazed on grass, while pigs partook in a more... eclectic menu. The contrast in dietary discretion led to cattle being esteemed far above their porcine counterparts.

But dietary habits weren't the only force driving the pork divide. Religion played its card too. The Jewish faith's sacred texts, such as the Torah, strictly forbade the consumption of pigs, casting the creature into the realm of the unclean. This prohibition not only shaped Jewish dietary laws but also influenced the nascent Islamic faith, linking the pork prohibition back to a common patriarch, Abraham. Today, the ripples of this ancient edict extend to billions who, as followers of Judaism and Islam, eschew pork on spiritual grounds.

Yet, in what can only be seen as the swine's stint in the wilderness, their fortunes were about to change. The Romans and Greeks, unburdened by the same taboos as their Middle Eastern neighbors, were soon to embrace the pig once more, setting the stage for a porcine renaissance that would echo through the halls of history right onto our modern plates.

The culinary comeback of the pig in classical civilizations

In the annals of gastronomy, there's hardly a higher compliment than the one bestowed upon pork by the ancient Greek medical pioneer, Hippocrates: the declaration that pork was the premier choice of meat. Such was the culinary clout of Greece that, under the helm of conquerors like Alexander the Great and his successors, Greek dietary customs and culture spread across the lands they dominated.

The Greeks had a penchant for unifying customs as they expanded their empire, a philosophy that hit a nerve when Antiochus IV, one of Alexander's heirs, demanded the Jews abandon their pork prohibition post-Jerusalem invasion. The historical account in the second book of Maccabees gives a human face to this cultural clash, recounting the martyrdom of the Jewish scribe Eleazar, who chose death over defiling his beliefs by consuming pork.

Then came the Romans, whose epicurean enthusiasm took the appreciation for pork to another level. Latin, the language of the Romans, sports a plethora of pig-related terminology, indicating just how integral swine were to their culinary universe. From live pig vendors to purveyors of cured pork, every aspect of porcine commerce had its specialist, and even its own Latin label.

The influence of food extended beyond the Roman elite. It played a role in placating the populace. Emperor Augustus grasped the significance of satiating the masses, promoting initiatives for free grain and bread — the proverbial "Bread and Circuses" policy. His successor, Emperor Aurelian, went a step further by supplementing this policy with free pork rations, sowing the seeds for an agricultural trade network unparalleled in scope and sophistication.

Roman-era food production began at the local level, but the ravenous demand of the citizens soon required a more expansive approach. Enter the trade routes that brought grain from Egypt, olive oil from Spain, and cured meats from afar — with an estimated 75 percent of Rome's food supply relying on imports.

The pig's voyage didn't end in Rome, though. Fast forward to the age of exploration, when none other than Christopher Columbus ferried pigs across the ocean to the New World. Little could he have known that these animals would become pivotal in the colonization and settlement of new frontiers, embedding the pig firmly in the story of human expansion and exploration.

Pigs: the unsung heroes of early American exploration and settlement

Columbus' voyages are etched in the collective memory, yet the contributions of his porcine passengers seldom get their due credit. Indeed, the intrepid explorers from Spain, seeking fortune in uncharted lands, did not journey alone — they brought with them a menagerie, among which pigs soon stood out as the conquistadors of the animal kingdom.

Pigs possess a remarkable ability to acclimatize; they settle in faster than most, akin to the resilience of rodents in new environments. From the instant their hooves touched the soils of the New World, they displayed an eagerness to eat and an impressive fecundity. The settler diaries overflow with accounts of inexhaustible swine populations.

One ingenious strategy of the age was to populate remote islands with a few pigs and let nature take its course. Explorers were cautioned against depleting these living larders but were permitted to harvest what they needed, given they spared at least one reproductive pair. This practice endowed the Spaniards with a self-replenishing pantry, proving crucial for the endurance of explorers and the success of their quests.

But the pig's pivotal role wasn't limited to Spanish endeavors. As the English set foot on the New World, they, too, found a dependable ally in the pig. More autonomous than their fellow farm animals and more adaptable than their European counterparts, the pigs that had acclimated to the Caribbean forests under Spanish stewardship were an asset to the fledgling English colonies.

These empowered pigs were given free rein, thriving in the wild and multiplying with such fervor that they secured the precarious food supply of the settlers through the most stringent seasons.

As colonies grew into bustling cities, the versatility of pigs shone once again. Their knack for scavenging and survival in almost any setting positioned them not only as a sustenance during the pioneering days but also as resourceful residents of the urbanizing landscapes. They were, without exaggeration, pivotal to the very fabric of the New World’s development.

Pigs to the rescue: urban waste management's unlikely heroes

The 20th century dawned with burgeoning cities facing mounting waste management challenges. Enter the pig, our ever-resourceful companion with a penchant for waste. Thanks to their omnivorous diet, pigs excelled at transforming urban refuse into something valuable. Not only were they adept at cleaning up the mess, but they were also budget-friendly laborers.

Worcester, Massachusetts, serves as a prime example. In the early 1920s, the city enlisted an army of 2,000 swine to tackle its garbage dilemma. These porcine janitors not only alleviated the waste issue, but they also proved to be lucrative investments. Once their duties were done, these garbage-fed pigs were sold for their pork, netting the city a handsome sum of 59,000 dollars over a couple of years.

As pigs continued to gobble up garbage and profits alike, farmers began to tap into the full potential of pork production. It was discovered that when swine were fed corn, they outperformed cattle significantly in converting feed to flesh. This difference in feed conversion efficiency hinged on a biological advantage: the impressive length of a pig's intestines.

Wild hogs, with an intestine-to-body-length ratio of 10:1, were already gifted at nutrient absorption. But domesticated breeds like the Poland China and the Berkshire boasted an even greater ratio of 18:1. This lengthier intestinal design allowed domestic pigs to plunder more nutrients from their food, transforming their diet into lean body mass with remarkable efficiency.

As pig farming continued to evolve, it was on the cusp of another transformative discovery — something that would further refine the practice and push porcine productivity into new heights. The journey of the pig, from village scavenger to urban sanitor, was just a prelude to the roles they would inhabit in modern agriculture.

Pigs on prescriptions: how antibiotics revolutionized pig farming

For centuries, farmers observed pigs growing plump on a varied diet of scraps and grains. Yet, in the pursuit of maximizing profits, the mid-20th century brought a groundbreaking change to the pig pen.

An accidental but revolutionary discovery showed that administering antibiotics to pigs, irrespective of their diet, led them to gain weight at an accelerated pace. Initially, the weight gain was attributed to vitamin B12 supplements; however, it soon became evident that the antibiotics within these supplements were the real game-changers.

With a regimen of antibiotics, pigs achieved their market weight over two weeks earlier than those raised without. This time-saving advantage translated into substantial cost savings for farmers. The US Food and Drug Administration, without much delay or extensive testing, gave its nod of approval for antibiotics as a standard feed supplement for livestock. By the swinging '60s, America's farm animals were consuming over one million pounds of antibiotics annually — a figure that would balloon to a staggering 25 million pounds per year.

In addition to promoting faster growth, antibiotics played a critical role in disease prevention, especially as farming practices shifted. Escalating land costs led farmers to forgo the pastures for packed barns. This tight confinement created a hotbed for illness but antibiotics acted as a safeguard, keeping diseases at bay in these crammed conditions.

However, the antibiotic era in pig farming isn't without its ominous shadows. Current concerns center on the potential emergence of antibiotic-resistant 'superbugs'. These formidable bacteria, like the virulent Campylobacter, can inflict severe symptoms such as bloody diarrhea and resist conventional antibiotic treatment.

In the face of such risks, countries like Denmark have led the way in discontinuing antibiotic use in pork production, proving it's possible to maintain a thriving pork industry without resorting to such preventive measures.

As we delve deeper, we'll uncover the complexities and consequences of modern hog farming — a narrative that intertwines breakthroughs with ethical concerns and challenges the future of this millennia-old partnership between pigs and people.

The dark underbelly of contemporary pig farming

The affordability of pork products is undeniable, yet this price tag belies the steep environmental and ethical costs incurred by modern pig farming practices.

The environmental impact is staggering. Take the size of today's pig farms, for example, and the colossal waste disposal challenges they pose. In 1995, the United States' pig population generated waste on a scale equivalent to that of hundreds of millions of humans. And while human waste disposal is heavily regulated, the rules around pig waste management are far less stringent.

The scenario that unraveled in North Carolina in 1995 is a case in point. After a deluge of rain, a sprawling manure lagoon burst its banks, sending millions of gallons of pig waste cascading into the surrounding cropland and eventually, into the waterways, leading to an ecological disaster that decimated local fish populations. More commonly, the leaching of pollutants from pig farms into groundwater means that residents in the vicinity must grapple with contaminated wells and streams.

Ammonia, methane, and other gases are natural byproducts of pigs. Ordinarily, this wouldn't be a problem, but the intensity of modern hog farms renders the surrounding air quality so poor that living nearby becomes untenable. Methane, a highly flammable gas, has even been known to trigger devastating explosions, annihilating farm structures and ending the lives of thousands of pigs in an instant.

Turning our attention to the pigs themselves, the picture grows even bleaker. Industrial claims of humane conditions within these facilities don't hold up against the reality of the pigs' plight. Congested and confined, swine are subjected to abysmal air quality that leads to respiratory diseases. They experience intense frustration and boredom due to their restricted movement, sometimes inflicting harm upon themselves or their pen mates out of sheer desperation.

To combat issues like aggression, many pigs are now sentenced to cages that afford them only the most basic mobility: standing or lying down, but not turning around. It's a harrowing existence that begs for scrutiny and change.

The call to action is clear: if we, as consumers, signal our concern for the welfare of pigs and the environment, we have the power to influence an industry in dire need of reformation. It starts with awareness and culminates in a movement towards more sustainable and compassionate farming practices, for the sake of the pigs who have accompanied humanity for millennia, and for the planet we all call home.

Embarking on a porcine passage through history

The bond between humans and pigs is as rich and complex as it is old. These often misunderstood creatures have trotted alongside our species since the days when we first forged permanent settlements. From their contributions to early village sanitation and ancient politics to the pivotal role they played in the exploration and colonization of new worlds, pigs have proven themselves to be invaluable companions in our collective human journey.

In the sweeping narrative of human progress, pigs have served as more than mere sources of sustenance. They've been fellow settlers, unwitting explorers, and urban janitors. Our shared story is a testament to a symbiotic relationship that has shaped both species over thousands of years. Yet, today's practices — from the controversial use of antibiotics to the environmental and ethical issues surrounding modern pig farming — serve as a sobering reminder that our association with these intelligent animals has entered a challenging and critical phase.

Ultimately, the history of the pig is a mirror into our own past, reflecting the myriad ways in which we've interacted with the natural world and its denizens. As we continue to write future chapters, perhaps we'll find new ways to honor this age-old partnership, recognizing the pig not just as a provider of pork, but as a lesser beast with a most significant legacy.