So far, as I’m reading this essay by David Foster Wallace called Consider the Lobster, I have had two of what I call “thinker’s thoughts”. Thinker’s thoughts, for those who are not familiar with the term, are global makes-you-think thoughts. They often come to me in the shower, or late at night when I’m outside. They also sometimes are sparked by quality literature or by a thought-provoking film. The first thought was about social status, and how it literally affects everything. According to this essay, it even affects the way we taste. Lobster, back in the 1800s, was seen as an insect of the sea instead of a delicacy. Only the poor ate it, mainly because it was dirt cheap and very plentiful on the east coast. It was also served to inmates in prison, however not more than once a week because that was considered cruel and unusual punishment. Today, a good lobster entrée is usually one of the most expensive items on a classy menu. Still, eaters find the lobster worth dropping $30 on an entrée, because it is such a delectable treat. My thinker’s thought was not so original; it was strongly led by the writing. Still, this morning when reading about the shifting value lobster over the years I came to the startling conclusion that social status affects even the most basic of senses, such as taste.
This is pertinent to a conversation I was having last night with a couple of friends. We were talking, and someone asked the question, what if there was no type of reflection? No mirrors, no cameras, no reflective quality to water and steel…if we never saw ourselves, how would we look? How would we eat, dress, act? Our only basis of our own image would be analysis of the people around us. In a world where we depend on others to understand our physical appearance, would brutal honesty be better appreciated? This is a huge and impossible to measure what if, but it’s an intriguing topic to ponder, especially after seeing how appreciation for lobster has followed its social implications. The lobster example shows how deeply intertwined logic and emotions are to physical experience. If we couldn’t see ourselves, would our eyes filter other images in a different way? Would the brain send a different type of message to the eye, making us more or less objective to the things we do see?
I guess this entry doesn’t have much to do with the essay itself, or David Foster Wallace’s literary technique. Regardless, the essay sparked a train of thoughts of me that have little to no use in the real world, but they certainly make a body reflect and connect.
My second thinker’s thought was sparked by Wallace’s discussion of the ethics of eating lobster. After coming to the research-based conclusion that it is probable that lobsters are highly sensitive to pain, Wallace asked the reader if it is ethical to eat lobster. As a pescatarian, I think I have something to say on the ethics of eating lobster, and that something is that it is completely acceptable. “Torturing our food” is what we do to all the animals we consume. We torture veal by forcing it to live in a box without room to walk. Food production companies torture pigs and chickens and cows by forcing them to live in confined areas where they often eat their own fecal matter for sustenance. (I watch documentaries on animal planet) This is torture, and the fact that we don’t see it occurring on the stoves in our kitchens doesn’t make it any less real. Even though I am a pescatarian, I have little aversion to eating meat. I simply don’t like the taste that much – though I love fish and depend upon it as a source of protein. Also, sushi is my favorite food and I couldn’t dream of giving it up. Case in point, I’m not a pescatarian because I am sensitive to animal rights, it’s more of a personal preference. In fact, when reading the article about suffering lobsters, I found myself growing hungry for some of the delicious crustacean. Sure, we torture them. We could all eat salad instead of lobster and save innocent animals a whole lot of pain. Thanks to the nearly universal belief that humans are superior beings to other animals, this is not a common preference. It’s yummy, it’s not endangered, and it’s accessible – so we eat it. Wallace also makes an analogy that events such as the Maine Lobster Festival are comparable to medieval torture festivals. He suggests that we only justify this public massacre of animals because of a selfish desire to enjoy the food. I have a counterargument for each of these statements. Comparing the MLF to a torture festival is like comparing slaughterhouse killings to serial killer murders. Both are extreme statements that could be strongly argued against. The reason that the world is nowhere close to seeing animal cruelty on the same level as human torture is because we are selfish and self-righteous beings. The reason that medieval torture festivals grew to be socially unacceptable is not because they are morally unethical – they just don’t benefit us enough. Sure, they were entertaining back in the day, but they did not quench the desires of any innate senses. The juicy taste of meat on the other hand directly satisfies the taste receptors. This shows us that ethics are pliable to the will of innate desire. So, Mr. Wallace, my answer to your question is that it does not matter if it is ethical or not, because as selfish and superior beings, our motive will always lie with our simplest and most urgent desires.
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