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Archived material from historical editions of The Generator

  • Ghost of Malthus stalks debate

    By world poverty, we do not mean that some people’s retirement funds are frozen and so they cannot meet their house repayments, we mean that two billion people face every day with no income, no possessions and no visible means of support. They have less than you would, here in Australia, if you had $1 per day to purchase your food, accommodation and clothing. Like them, you would be able to afford a cup full of dirty water and just enough nutrients to remain alive.

    They have no future. Every year about one percent of them die, hideously, and their children are condemned to follow their footsteps.

    This is the reality of the new world order.

    By 2015 there will be twenty cities collectively containing 500 million people. More than half of those people will be this poor. These urban poor are the world’s new slaves. Unlike the Africans transported to the Americas these new slaves are not fed and housed, their children are not nurtured and employed. These people are discarded if they injure themselves at work and swept out with the garbage. There are more slaves now than at any other time and those slaves are worse off than they have ever been before.

    This is the reality of the new world order.

    The world’s richest people, five percent of the total population, control fifty percent of the world’s wealth. The world’s poorest people, fifty percent of the total population, control five percent of the world’s wealth. Wealth has been becoming more concentrated since the end of the second world war.

    The point of underlining this huge disparity in wealth, which is reflected directly in resource consumption, is because it goes to the very heart of the population debate.

    Why crunch the numbers?

    “The world’s population now exceeds 6.7 billion and
    consumption of fuel, water, crops, fish, and forests exceeds supply.

    “Every week an extra 1.5 million people add to greenhouse gas emissions and
    escaping poverty is impossible without these emissions increasing.”

    British Medical Journal – August 2, 2008

     

    A number of times this year, in publications from the Sydney Morning Herald and The Australian to the UK Guardian, journalists have describe the population debate as unpalatable.

    The importance of the debate is defined by the assertion that no matter how much we curb consumption, population growth will eventually mean that we outstrip the capacity of the earth to support us.

    The unpalatable nature of the debate is the definition of the culprit. If it focuses on reducing consumption, the question essentially comes down to, “Who is going to give up what?” If it focuses on reducing population, the proposition is even more difficult, “Which two billion people are going to die.”

    Even if the debate focuses on reducing population growth, as opposed to the actual number of people, emotions run high. Population control policies such as those used in China and India are considered invasive and oppressive. Even contraception and abortion are issues that regularly tear communities apart.

    The ghost of Malthus – sidebar

    At the heart of the debate is the proposition put forward by Thomas Robert ‘Pop’ Malthus in 1798.

    Population, when unchecked, increases in a geometrical ratio. Subsistence increases only in an arithmetical ratio.

    On current world projections, you would have to say he got it pretty well right.

    It seems natural, then, that almost every discussion of population comes back to the finite nature of resources and the elastic, if not exponential, nature of population growth. The interesting thing is that Malthus was not making a disinterested observation. He actively opposed the emerging poor laws on the basis that there was no point trying to save people from themselves, when they are doomed to face famine by their very nature.

    To quote Pop himself, “No fancied equality, no agrarian regulations in their utmost extent, could remove the pressure of it even for a single century …  the argument is conclusive against the perfectibility of the mass of mankind.”

    Essentially, he believed that governments should not interfere with the law of the jungle. Malthus’ world view is one of the foundations of what we now call the market economy.

     

    The standard answer from the political wing of the environmental movement is that the world population is flattening out. The United Nations estimates that it will stabilise at around 9 billion people and, somewhat conveniently, estimates that the earth can support 10 billion people or more.

    As people become more affluent and better educated, they delay having children until later in life, or decide not to have children at all. The birth rate of most European nations is below the death rate. Their native populations are shrinking and they rely on immigration to supply the labour force necessary to support the aging population.

    “Educate and empower women,” David Suzuki has said a number of times, “and you will reduce population growth and increase affluence at the same time.”

    This is not to say that we can sit back and wait for it all to sort itself out. That stabilisation requires a lot of pro-active education, a change in attitudes to sexuality and the balance of power between genders. It also assumes that the developed world will eventually stop increasing its consumption and more importantly stealing the resources of the poor to maintain their limitless aspirations.

    Follow the money

    Just two facts illustrate the geographical inequity that exists today and the blatantly distorted rhetoric used to maintain that inequity.

    Firstly consider the flow of money. The flow of aid dollars peaked in 2006 at $US100 billion dollars. This is the total sum of money given to the developing world and includes, despite international agreements that it should not, money to fund armies and interest holidays on loans. Much of this money never gets to the nations themselves, it is simply transferred from one financial institution to another to fund projects that the target nation may or may not want and may or may not benefit from. Those projects might be new airports or new roads or tonnes of genetically modified seed.

    In the same year, $US130billion was paid by developing countries as interest on loans made by foreign banks to their governments, often at the direction of the International Monetary Fund.

    In one year we took more than $30billion from these people, while at the same time we pretended to help them by delivering projects that further enriched us. With friends like us, these poor countries need no enemies.

    The second fact worth noting is the failure world diplomacy aimed at reaching international agreements. As well as the disappearance of the World Poverty conference, the trade talks known as the Doha round collapsed this year, and the climate change conference to be held in Copenhagen next year faces insurmountable difficulties.

    A quick summary of the discussions around carbon dioxide emissions highlights the problem.

    At Bali in December 2007, the United States negotiators held out until the last minute, claiming that unless China, India and Brazil agreed to cap their emissions there was no point in the agreement. A quick look at the left hand graph summarises the US argument. “Since these nations are becoming more affluent and have such large populations, their increase in emissions is going to outweigh any savings that we make.”

    The right hand graph though shows exactly the same figures on a per capita basis, rather than a regional one. The situation looks somewhat different from that point of view. Remember, these two graphs are the proposed agreement in which developed nations reduce their emissions by 20% in 12 years and developing nations are allowed to slightly increase their standard of living. It is this proposal that the United States claims will unfairly disadvantage their economy.

    Surprise, surprise

        
      
     


    , the rich countries twist the rhetoric to prevent the poor from climbing out of poverty.

    Rethinking the argument

    Since the debate about population, poverty and the environment is trapped in a Malthusian whirlpool, it seems worthwhile to consider the facts from a completely different point of view.

    Historically, we consider the cradle of civilisation to be the Tigris Euphrates valleys, the location of modern Iraq. Agriculture appeared here 10,000 years ago and the surplus food supply provided by agriculture allowed the first cities to develop around 7,000 years before present. From there, specialisation allowed civilisation to flourish and empires expanded as the standing army sought out extra resources from the fringe of the empire to feed the growing cities.

    Remembering Gaia

    The imperial pattern of resource usage contrasts markedly with the Gaian view of the planet.

    The view that the planet might be an organism and that the carbon cycle, water cycle and the ocean currents are simply circulatory systems of that organism was initiated by James Lovelock. I have summarised his view of the world in these pages before, and you can find that summary at www.thegenerator.com.au by popping ‘Lovelock’ into the search tool at that site.

    Significantly for this discussion, a wide range of scientists have adopted the view of the earth as an organism to help explain the functioning of various systems. The major project founded by David Suzuki to explore how Nitrogen 16 from the oceans ended up as biomass in the great temperate rainforest on the west coast of America is a good example.

    Those scientists discovered that the Salmon returning from the ocean to spawn bring tonnes of nitrogen rich protein into the forest annually. They sacrifice themselves, and the nitrogen rich protein they have stored over five years, to provide nutrients for their offspring. Bears drag their carcasses into the woods. Flies hatching in their remains are caught by migratory birds who deposit the nitrogen they contain across the forest.

    Each individual salmon is a cell in a nitrogen supply system that feeds the forest from the sea. The myriad of creatures taking advantage of this exotic seafood feast are like enzymes in our body, breaking down food into nutrients for the cells that need them.

    Once we begin to consider the forests of the world as her lungs, the great rivers and ocean currents as her blood stream, then the role of the world’s twenty megacities, holding more than half a billion people takes on a new and more sinister character.

    If we found something in our body that consumed far more resources than the surrounding tissue, starving it in the process, we would be concerned. If we discovered that  this growth produced vast amounts of toxic waste, we would seek medical intervention. If we realised that this hungry, toxic entity was growing rapidly we would grant a medical practitioner the right to excise that growth.

    Our current medical responses to cancer are not benign. Radiation, chemotherapy, surgical removal: They all involve the elimination of the mutant growth and the possible loss of surrounding tissues and organs as collateral damage.

    This is the hard-nosed response to the population problem. Famine, plague and pestilence will restore the balance. A little fine tuning of the world’s trading network will target and control the speed of the excision. There are some who see this already happening, today.

    If we accept this, then we accept that Malthus was right. We are rabbits, we have outstripped our food supply and are simply reaping the consequences.

    Improving world’s best practice

    On the face of it, the situation does not look promising. The world’s best diplomats cannot agree on a fair division of the spoils and modern medicine’s best response is selective poisoning. Fortunately, the best new medical approaches to cancer, offer a somewhat more inspiring solution.

    The best research being done in the medical universities around the world is attempting to answer the questions;

    l        Can we selectively starve cancer cells?

    l        What causes the cells to mutate?

    l        What makes cancer cells grow so fast?

     

    There are lots of different answers emerging and, so far, none of those answers offers a clear cure for cancer but, collectively, they spell out a different approach. Instead of blasting the patient or chopping out their affected parts, these approaches attempt to address the fundamental malfunctioning of individual cells.

    If we take that approach to the patient before us, the planet itself, then the key drivcrs that underpinned the emergence of civilisation in the Tigris Euphrates are under the microscope.

    l        The production of a surplus in one region at the expense of another region

    l        The separation of production, consumption and waste disposal in a linear fashion

    l        The use of specialisation to create an exploited class on which wealth depends

     

    These approximations of the fundamental nature of civilisation, as it has unfolded thus far, inevitably result in the exploitation of resources and a Malthusian cycle of exponential growth followed by famine and collapse.

    In the same way that many people have identified interest on loans as the fundamental driver capitalism’s boom bust cycle, so these characteristics would appear to underpin unsustainable settlement and resource use.

    The problem is that so much of our social infrastructure and culture is built on these fundamental tenets.

    The only example of society taking on board such fundamental changes is the vegetarianising of Hindu society around 1500 before present. By preserving the muscle power of agrarian society and coincidentally ensuring the supply of milk, holy cows gave India a stability and, arguably, a level of tolerance, that saved it plunging into starvation again.

    That was a religious decree, however, and we have arrived at a point in our political thinking where religion is taboo. Despite this, the most functional intentional communities on the planet today have some sort of belief system holding them together. Similarly, the lack of morality at the heart of the world’s financial markets is revolting to most ordinary people. The selfishness that drives economic rationalist society seems to be at the heart of our social and environmental problems.

    Increasingly, a commonly recognised moral framework to which all individuals are subject appears to be the only way forward. The alternative would appear to be a modern Dark Age.

  • Marvin Harris on India’s Sacred Cow

    News photographs that came out of India during the famine of the late 1960s showed starving people stretching out bony hands to beg for food while cattle strolled behind them undisturbed. The Hindu, it seems, would rather starve to death than eat his cow or even deprive it of food.

    Western specialists in food habits around the world consider Hinduism an irrational ideology that compels people to overlook abundant, nutritious foods for scarcer, less healthful foods. Many Western observers believe that an absurd devotion to the mother cow pervades Indian life. Many Indians agree with Western assessments of the Hindu reverence for their cattle, the zebu, a large-humped species of cattle prevalent in Asia and Africa. M. N. Srinivas, an Indian anthropologist states:

    “Orthodox Hindu opinion regards the killing of cattle with abhorrence, even though the refusal to kill the vast number of useless cattle which exists in India today is detrimental to the nation.” Even the Indian Ministry of Information formerly maintained that “the large animal population is more a liability than an asset in view of our land resources.”

    Accounts from many different sources point to the same conclusion: India, one of the world’s great civilizations, is being strangled by its love for the cow.

    The easy explanation for India’s devotion to the cow, the one most Westerners and Indians would offer, is that cow worship is an integral part of Hinduism. Religion is somehow good for the soul, even if it sometimes fails the body. Religion orders the cosmos and explains our place in the universe. Religious beliefs, many would claim, have existed for thousands of years and have a life of their own. They are not understandable in scientific terms. But all this ignores history. There is more to be said for cow worship than is immediately apparent.

    History of Cow Worship

    The earliest Vedas, the Hindu sacred texts from the Second Millennium B.C., do not prohibit the slaughter of cattle. Instead, they ordain it as a part of sacrificial rites. The early Hindus did not avoid the flesh of cows and bulls; they ate it at ceremonial feasts presided over by Brahman priests.

    Cow worship is a relatively recent development in India; it evolved as the Hindu religion developed and changed. This evolution is recorded in royal edicts and religious texts written during the last 3,000 years of Indian history. The Vedas from the First Millennium B.C. contain contradictory passages, some referring to ritual slaughter and others to a strict taboo on beef consumption. Many of the sacred-cow passages were incorporated into the texts by priests in a later period.

    By 200 A.D. the status of Indian cattle had undergone a transformation. The Brahman priesthood exhorted the population to venerate the cow and forbade them to abuse it or to feed on it. Religious feasts involving the ritual slaughter and consumption of livestock were eliminated and meat eating was restricted to the nobility.

    By 1000 A.D., all Hindus were forbidden to eat beef. Ahimsa, the Hindu belief in the unity of all life, was the spiritual justification for this restriction. But it is difficult to ascertain exactly when this change occurred. An important event that helped to shape the modern complex was the Islamic invasion, which took place in the Eighth Century A.D. Hindus may have found it politically expedient to set themselves off from the invaders, who were beefeaters, by emphasizing the need to prevent the slaughter of their sacred animals. Thereafter, the cow taboo assumed its modern form and began to function much as it does today. The place of the cow in modern India is every place – on posters, in the movies, in brass figures, in stone and wood carvings, on the streets, in the fields. The cow is a symbol of health and abundance.

    The Economic Uses of The Cow

    The cattle are not just worshiped and revered in India. They are also extraordinarily useful.

    The zebu cow provides the milk that Indians consume in the form of yogurt and ghee (clarified butter), which contribute subtle flavors to much spicy Indian food. This is one practical role of the cow, but cows provide less than half the milk produced in India. Most cows in India are not dairy breeds. In most regions, when an Indian farmer wants a steady, high-quality source of milk he usually invests in a female water buffalo. In India the water buffalo is the specialized dairy breed because its milk has a higher butterfat content than zebu milk. Although the farmer milks his zebu cows, the milk is merely a by-product. More vital than zebu milk to South Asian farmers are zebu calves. Male calves are especially valued because from bulls come oxen which are the mainstay of the Indian agricultural system.

    Small, fast oxen drag wooden plows through late-spring fields when monsoons have dampened the dry, cracked earth. After harvest, the oxen break the grain from the stalk by stomping through mounds of cut wheat and rice. For rice cultivation in irrigated fields, the male water buffalo is preferred (it pulls better in deep mud), but for most other crops, including rainfall rice, wheat, sorghum, and millet, and for transporting goods and people to and from town, a team of oxen is preferred.

    The ox is the Indian peasant’s tractor, thresher and family car combined; the cow is the factory that produces the ox.

    If draft animals instead of cows are counted, India appears to have too few domesticated ruminants, not too many. Since each of the 70 million farms in India requires a draft team, it follows that Indian peasants should use 140 million animals in the fields. But there are only 83 million oxen and male water buffalo on the subcontinent, a shortage of 30 million draft teams. In other regions of the world, joint ownership of draft animals might overcome a shortage, but Indian agriculture is closely tied to the monsoon rains of late spring and summer. Field preparation and planting must coincide with the rain, and a farmer must have his animals ready to plow when the weather is right. When the farmer without a draft team needs bullocks most, his neighbors are all using theirs. Any delay in turning the soil drastically lowers production.

    Because of this dependence on draft animals, loss of the family oxen is devastating. If a beast dies, the farmer must borrow money to buy or rent an ox at interest rates so high that he ultimately loses his land. Every year foreclosures force thousands of poverty-stricken peasants to abandon the countryside for the overcrowded cities.

    If a family is fortunate enough to own a fertile cow, it will be able to rear replacements for a lost team and thus survive until life returns to normal. If, as sometimes happens, famine leads a family to sell its cow and ox team, all ties to agriculture are cut. Even if the family survives, it has no way to farm the land, no oxen to work the land, and no cows to produce oxen. The prohibition against eating meat applies to the flesh of cows, bulls, and oxen, but the cow is the most sacred because it can produce the other two. The peasant whose cow dies is not only crying over a spiritual loss but over the loss of his farm as well.

    Religious laws that forbid the slaughter of cattle promote the recovery of the agricultural system from the dry Indian winter and from periods of drought. The monsoon, on which all agriculture depends, is erratic. Sometimes it arrives early, sometimes late, sometimes not at all. Drought has struck large portions of India time and again in this century, and Indian farmers and the zebus are accustomed to these natural disasters. Zebus can pass weeks on end with little or no food and water. Like camels, they store both in their humps and recuperate quickly with only a little nourishment.

    During droughts the cows often stop lactating and become barren. In some cases the condition is permanent but often it is only temporary. If barren animals were summarily eliminated, as Western experts in animal husbandry have suggested, cows capable of recovery would be lost along with those entirely debilitated. By keeping alive the cows that can later produce oxen, religious laws against cow slaughter assure the recovery of the agricultural system from the greatest challenge it faces – the failure of the monsoon.

    The local Indian governments aid the process of recovery by maintaining homes for barren cows. Farmers reclaim any animal that calves or begins to lactate. One police station in Madras collects strays and pastures them in a field adjacent to the station. After a small fine is paid, a cow is returned to its rightful owner when the owner thinks the cow shows signs of being able to reproduce.

    During the hot, dry spring months most of India is like a desert. Indian farmers often complain they cannot feed their livestock during this period. They maintain cattle by letting them scavenge on the sparse grass along the roads. In the cities cattle are encouraged to scavenge near food stalls to supplement their scant diet. These are the wandering cattle tourists report seeing throughout India.

    Westerners expect shopkeepers to respond to these intrusions with the deference due a sacred animal; instead, their response is a string of curses and the crack of a long bamboo pole across the beast’s back or a poke at its genitals. Mahatma Gandhi was well aware of the treatment sacred cows (and bulls and oxen) received in India:

    “How we bleed her to take the last drop of milk from her. How we starve her to emaciation, how we ill-treat the calves, how we deprive them of their portion of milk, how cruelly we treat the oxen, how we castrate them, how we beat them, how we overload them.”

    Oxen generally receive better treatment than cows. When food is in short supply, thrifty Indian peasants feed their working bullocks and ignore their cows, but rarely do they abandon the cows to die. When cows are sick, farmers worry over them as they would over members of the family and nurse them as if they were children. When the rains return and when the fields are harvested, the farmers again feed their cows regularly and reclaim their abandoned animals. The prohibition against beef consumption is a form of disaster insurance for all India.

    Western agronomists and economists are quick to protest that the functions of the zebu cattle can be improved with organized breeding programs, cultivated pastures, and silage. Because stronger oxen would pull the plow faster, they could work multiple plots of land, allowing farmers to share their animals. Fewer healthy, well-fed cows could provide Indians with more milk. But pastures and silage require arable land, land needed to produce wheat and rice.

    A look at Western cattle farming makes plain the cost of adopting advanced technology in Indian agriculture. In a study of livestock production in the United States, one scientist at Cornell University found that 91 percent of the cereal, legume, and vegetable protein suitable for human consumption is consumed by livestock. Approximately three quarters of the arable land in the United States is devoted to growing food for livestock. In the production of meat and milk, American ranchers use enough fossil fuel to equal more than 82 million barrels of oil annually. Indian cattle do not drain the system in the same way. In a 1971 study of livestock in West Bengal, India, by a professor at the University of Missouri, found that Bengalese cattle ate only the inedible remains of subsistence crops – rice straw, rice hulls, the tops of sugar cane, and mustard-oil cake. Cattle graze in the fields after harvest and eat the remains of crops left on the ground; they forage for grass and weeds on the roadsides. The food for zebu cattle costs the human population virtually nothing. “Basically the cattle convert items of little direct human value into products of immediate utility.”

    In addition to plowing the fields and producing milk, the zebus produce dung, which fires the hearths and fertilizes the fields of India. Much of the estimated 800 million tons of manure produced annually is collected by the farmers’ children as they follow the family cows and bullocks from place to place. And when the children see the droppings of another farmer’s cattle along the road, they pick those up also. The system operates with such high efficiency that the children of West Bengal recover nearly 100 percent of the dung produced by their livestock.

    From 40 to 70 percent of all manure produced by Indian cattle is used as fuel for cooking; the rest is returned to the fields as fertilizer. Dried dung burns slowly, cleanly, and with low heat – characteristics that satisfy the household needs of Indian women. Staples like curry and rice can simmer for hours. While the meal slowly cooks over an unattended fire, the women of the household can do other chores. Cow chips, unlike firewood, do not scorch as they burn. It is estimated that the dung used for cooking fuel provides the energy-equivalent of 43 million tons of coal. At current prices, it would cost India an extra 1.5 billion dollars in foreign exchange to replace the dung with coal. And if the 350 million tons of manure that are being used as fertilizer were replaced with commercial fertilizers, the expense would be even greater. Roger Revelle of the University of California at San Diego has calculated that 89 percent of the energy used in Indian agriculture, the equivalent of about 140 million tons of coal, is provided by local sources. Even if foreign loans were to provide the money, the capital outlay necessary to replace the Indian cow with tractors and fertilizers for the fields, coal for the fires, and transportation for the family would probably warp international financial institutions for years.

    Instead of asking the Indians to learn from the American model of industrial agriculture, American farmers might learn energy conservation from the Indians. Every step in an energy cycle results in a loss of energy to the system. Like a pendulum that slows a bit with each swing, each transfer of energy from sun to plants, plants to animals, and animals to human beings involves energy losses. Some systems are more efficent than others; they provide a higher percentage of the energy inputs in a final, useful form. Seventeen percent of all energy zebus consume is returned in the form of milk, traction and dung. American cattle raised on Western range land return only 4 percent of the energy they consume.

    But the American system is improving. Based on techniques pioneered by Indian scientists, at least one commercial firm in the United States is reported to be building plants that will turn manure from cattle feedlots into combustible gas. When organic matter is broken down by anaerobic bacteria, methane gas and carbon dioxide are produced. After the methane is cleansed of the carbon dioxide, it is available for the same purposes as natural gas – cooking, heating, electricity generation. The company constructing the plant plans to sell its product to a gas-supply company, to be piped through the existing distribution system. Schemes similar to this one could make cattle ranches almost independent of utility and gasoline companies, for methane can be used to run trucks, tractors, and cars as well as to supply heat and electricity. The relative energy self-sufficiency that the Indian peasant has achieved is a goal American farmers and industry are now striving for.

    Studies often understate the efficiency of the Indian cow, because dead cows are used for purposes that Hindus prefer not to acknowledge. When a cow dies, an Untouchable, a member of one of the lowest ranking castes in India, is summoned to haul away the carcass. Higher castes consider the body of the dead cow polluting; if they do handle it, they must go through a rite of purification.

    Untouchables first skin the dead animal and either tan the skin themselves or sell it to a leather factory. In the privacy of their homes, contrary to the teachings of Hinduism, untouchable castes cook the meat and eat it. Indians of all castes rarely acknowledge the existence of these practices to non-Hindus, but most are aware that beef eating takes place. The prohibition against beef eating restricts consumption by the higher castes and helps distribute animal protein to the poorest sectors of the population that otherwise would have no source of these vital nutrients.

    Untouchables are not the only Indians who consume beef. Indian Muslims and Christians are under no restriction that forbids them beef, and its consumption is legal in many places. The Indian ban on cow slaughter is state, not national, law and not all states restrict it. In many cities, such as New Delhi, Calcutta, and Bombay, legal slaughterhouses sell beef to retail customers and to the restaurants that serve steak.

    If the caloric value of beef and the energy costs involved in the manufacture of synthetic leather were included in the estimates of energy, the calculated efficiency of Indian livestock would rise considerably.

    As well as the system works, experts often claim that its efficiency can be further improved. An economist at the University of Pennsylvania, believes that Indians suffer from an overabundance of cows simply because they refuse to slaughter the excess cattle. India could produce at least the same number of oxen and the same quantities of milk and manure with 30 million fewer cows. The economist calculates that only 40 cows are necessary to maintain a population of 100 bulls and oxen. Since India averages 70 cows for every 100 bullocks, the difference, 30 million cows, is expendable.

    What this economist fails to note is that sex ratios among cattle in different regions of India vary tremendously, indicating that adjustments in the cow population do take place. Along the Ganges River, one of the holiest shrines of Hinduism, the ratio drops to 47 cows for every 100 male animals. This ratio reflects the preference for dairy buffalo for farming. In nearby Pakistan, in contrast, where cow slaughter is permitted, the sex ratio is 60 cows to 100 oxen. Since the sex ratios among cattle differ greatly from region to region and do not even approximate the balance that would be expected if no females were killed, we can assume that some culling of herds does take place; Indians do adjust their religious restrictions to accommodate ecological realities.

    They cannot kill a cow but they can tether an old or unhealthy animal until it has starved to death. They cannot slaughter a calf but they can yoke it with a large wooden triangle so that when it nurses it irritates the mother’s udder and gets kicked to death. They cannot ship their animals to the slaughterhouse but they can sell them to Muslims, closing their eyes to the fact that the Muslims will take the cattle to the slaughterhouse. These violations of the prohibition against cattle slaughter strengthen the premise that cow worship is a vital part of Indian economic life and culture.

    The Historical Context of the Taboo on Eating Beef

    The religious ban on killing cattle and eating beef arose to prevent the population from consuming the animal on which Indian agriculture depends. During the First Millennium B.C., the Ganges Valley became one of the most densely populated regions of the world. Where previously there had been only scattered villages, many towns and cities arose and peasants farmed every available acre of land. Kingsley Davis, a population expert at the University of California at Berkeley, estimates that by 300 B.C. between 50 million and 100 million people were living in India. The forested Ganges Valley became a windswept semi-desert and signs of ecological collapse appeared; droughts and floods became commonplace, erosion took away the rich topsoil, farms shrank as population increased, and domesticated animals became harder and harder to maintain.

    It is probable that the elimination of meat eating came about in a slow, practical manner. The farmers who decided not to eat their cows, who saved them for procreation to produce oxen, were the ones who survived the natural disasters. Those who ate beef lost the tools with which to farm. Over a period of centuries, more and more farmers probably avoided beef until an unwritten taboo came into existence.

    Only later was the practice codified by the priesthood. While Indian peasants were probably aware of the role of cattle in their society, strong sanctions were necessary to protect zebus from a population faced with starvation. To remove temptation, the flesh of cattle became taboo and the cow became sacred.

    The sacredness of the cow is not just an ignorant belief that stands in the way of progress. Like all concepts of the sacred and the profane, this one affects the physical world; it defines the relationships that are important for the maintenance of Indian society.

    Indians have the sacred cow; we have the “sacred” car and the “sacred” dog. It would not occur to us to propose the elimination of automobiles and dogs from our society without carefully considering the consequences, and we should not propose the elimination of zebu cattle without first understanding their place in the social order in India.

    Human society is neither random nor capricious. The regularities of thought and behavior called culture are the principal mechanisms by which we human beings adapt to the world around us. Practices and beliefs can be rational or irrational, but a society that fails to adapt to its environment is doomed to extinction. Only those societies that draw the necessities of life from their surroundings without destroying those surroundings, inherit the earth. The West has much to learn from the great antiquity of Indian civilization, and the sacred cow is an important part of that lesson.