A lesson in turning adversaries into allies Leah Garcs
Transcriber: Ivana Korom
Reviewer: Joanna Pietrulewicz
In the summer of 2014,
I found myself sitting across from a man
who, by every definition, was my enemy.
His name was Craig Watts,
and he’s a chicken factory farmer.
My career is devoted
to protecting farmed animals
and ending factory farming.
And up until this point in my life,
I had spent every waking moment
standing up against everything
this man stood for,
and now, I was in his living room.
The day I met Craig Watts
he had been raising chickens for 22 years
for a company called Perdue,
the fourth largest chicken company
in the entire country.
And as a young man,
he had yearned for this way
to stay on the land
in one of the poorest
counties in the state.
So when the chicken industry came to town,
he thought, “This is a dream come true.”
He took a quarter
of a million dollar loan out,
and he built these chicken houses.
Perdue would give him a flock,
he’d raise them,
and each flock he’d get paid,
and then he’d pay off
in small increments that loan,
like a mortgage.
But pretty soon, the chickens got sick.
It’s a factory farm, after all,
there are 25,000 chickens
that are stuffed wall-to-wall,
living on their own feces,
breathing ammonia-laden air.
And when chickens get sick,
some of them die.
And you don’t get paid for dead chickens,
and Craig started to struggle
to pay off his loan,
he realized he made a mistake,
but he was all but an indentured
servant at this stage.
When I met him,
he was at a breaking point.
The payments seemed never-ending.
As did the death,
despair and illness of his chickens.
Now, if we humans tried to think
of some super unjust,
unfair, filthy and cruel food system,
we could not have thought
of anything worse than factory farming.
Eighty billion farmed animals
around the world annually
are raised and slaughtered.
They’re stuffed in cages and warehouses
never to see the light of day.
And that’s not just a problem
for those farmed animals.
Animal agriculture,
it accounts for more
greenhouse gas emissions
than all of the planes, trains
and automobiles put together.
And one third of our arable land is used
to grow feed to feed
factory-farmed animals,
rather than ourselves.
And all that land is sprayed
with immeasurable chemicals.
And ecologically important habitats,
like the Amazon,
are cut down and are burnt,
all so we can feed
and house farmed animals.
By the time my three kids grow up,
there’s very unlikely to be polar bears,
Sumatran elephants, orangutans.
In my lifetime,
the number of birds, amphibians,
reptiles and mammals has halved.
And the main culprit
is our global appetite
for meat, dairy and eggs.
And for me, up until this point,
the villain was Craig Watts.
And as I sat there in his living room,
my fear and my anger
turned into something else.
Shame.
My whole life I had spent blaming him,
hating him,
I even wished him ill.
I had never once
thought about his struggle, his choices.
Could he be a potential ally?
I never had thought
he feels as trapped as the chickens.
So we had been sitting there for hours
and the midday turned into afternoon,
turned into dusk, turned into darkness,
and he suddenly said,
“OK, are you ready to see the chickens?”
So under the cover of darkness,
we walked towards one
of these long, gray houses.
And he swung open the door
and we stepped inside,
and we were hit
with this overpowering smell
and every muscle in my body tensed up
and I coughed and my eyes teared.
I was too overwhelmed
by my own physical discomfort,
I didn’t even look around at first,
but when I did,
what I saw brought me to tears.
Tens of thousands of newly hatched chicks
in this darkened warehouse
with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
Over the next few months,
I returned many times,
with filmmaker Raegan Hodge,
to record, to understand,
to build trust with Craig.
And I walked his houses with him
as he picked up dead and dying birds,
birds with messed-up legs
and trouble breathing
and difficulty walking.
And all of this we caught on film.
And then we decided to do something
I don’t think either he or I
ever expected to do when we first met.
We decided to release that footage.
And that was really risky for both of us.
It was risky for him
because he could lose his income,
his home, his land,
his neighbors hating him.
And I could risk
getting my organization sued,
or being the reason
that he would lose everything,
but we had to do it anyway.
“The New York Times” broke the story
and within 24 hours,
a million people had seen our video.
It went viral by every definition,
and suddenly we had this global platform
for talking about factory farming.
And working with Craig got me thinking.
What other unlikely allies are out there?
What other progress,
what other lessons can I learn
if I cross those enemy lines?
The first lesson I learned
is that we have to become comfortable
with being uncomfortable.
Only talking to people who agree with us,
it’s not going to get us to the solution.
We have to be willing
to enter other people’s space.
Because quite often,
the enemy has the power
to change the problem
that we’re trying to solve.
In my case, I’m not in charge
of a single chicken.
The farmer is and so are
the meat companies.
So I need to enter their space
if I want to solve the problem.
And a couple of years
after working with Craig,
I did something again
I never expected to do.
I sat down with an even bigger
so-called enemy:
Jim Perdue himself.
The man I had made the villain
of my viral video.
And again, through difficult conversations
and being uncomfortable,
Perdue came out with the first
animal care policy
of any poultry company.
In it, they agreed to do
some of the things we had criticized them
for not doing in the viral video,
like put windows into houses.
And pay for them.
And that was a really
important lesson for me.
The second lesson
is that when we sit down to negotiate
with the enemy,
we need to remember,
there’s a human being in front of us
that very likely
has more in common with us
than we care to admit.
And I learned this firsthand
when I was invited to visit
at a major poultry company’s headquarters.
And it was the first time
that my organization had been invited,
and any organization had been invited,
to visit with them.
And as we walked through the corridor,
there were literally people
who were peeking our from the cubicles
to get a quick look at what does
an animal rights activist look like,
and we walked –
I look like this, so I don’t know
what they were expecting.
(Laughter)
But as we walked into the boardroom,
there was an executive
who was in charge, sitting there.
And his arms were crossed
and he did not want me to be there.
And I flipped open my laptop,
and my background photo came up,
and it was a picture of my three kids.
My daughter clearly looks
different than my sons.
And when he saw that photo
he uncrossed his arms
and he tilted his head
and he leaned forward and he said,
“Are those your kids?”
And I said, “Yeah.
I just got back
from adopting my daughter – "
And I babbled on way too much
for a professional meeting.
And he stopped me and he said,
“I have two adopted kids.”
And for the next 20 minutes,
we just talked about that.
We talked about adoption
and being a parent
and in those moments,
we forgot who we were supposed to be
at that table.
And the walls came down,
and a bridge was built
and we crossed this divide.
And more progress
was made with that company
because of that human
connection that we made.
My last lesson for you
is that when we sit down
with the so-called enemy,
we need to look for the win-win.
Instead of going in
with farmers like Craig Watts
and thinking, “I need
to put them out of farming,”
I started to think how can I help them
be different kinds of farmers,
like, growing hemp or mushrooms.
And a farmer I later worked with
did exactly that.
He did do the exposé with me and filmed,
and we went with
“The New York Times” again,
but he went beyond that.
He quit chicken factory farming,
and it turns out
that those big, long, gray warehouses
are the perfect environment
for growing something else.
(Laughter)
(Applause)
That’s hemp, people, that’s hemp.
(Laughter)
Here is an environmentally friendly way
to stay on the land,
to pay the bills,
that a vegan animal rights activist
and a chicken farmer can get behind.
(Laughter)
And instead of thinking,
how can I get these big
meat companies out of business,
I started thinking, how can I help them
evolve into a different kind of business.
One where the protein doesn’t come
from slaughtered animals,
but rather, plants.
And believe it or not,
these big companies are starting
to move their ships in that direction.
Cargill and Tyson and Perdue
are adding plant-based proteins
into their supply chain.
And Perdue himself said that,
“Our company is a premium protein company,
and nothing about that says
that it has to come from animals.”
And in my own home town of Atlanta,
KFC did a one-day trial with Beyond Meat,
for plant-based chicken nuggets.
And it was insane,
there were lines
wrapped around the corner,
there was traffic stopped
in all directions,
you would think they were giving out
free Beyoncé tickets.
People are ready for this shift.
We need to build a big tent
that everyone can get under.
From the chicken factory farmer,
to the mega meat company,
to the animal rights activist.
And these lessons,
they can apply to many causes,
whether it be with a problem with an ex,
a neighbor or an in-law.
Or with some of the biggest problems
of exploitation and oppression,
like factory farming,
or misogyny or racism or climate change.
The world’s smallest and biggest problems,
they won’t be solved
by beating down our enemies
but by finding these
win-win pathways together.
It does require us
to let go of that idea of us versus them
and realize there’s only one us,
all of us,
against an unjust system.
And it is difficult,
and messy, and uncomfortable.
But it is critical.
And maybe the only way
to build that compassionate food system
that we all, from the chicken
to the chicken farmer
to the mega meat company, to all of us,
deserve.
Thank you.
(Applause)