The Wesleyan Animal Recognition Memorial Is Vacuous, Ineffectual, and Camp

I am greatly amused by this whole proposal. A plaque, “In Recognition and Memory” of all the animals that are served as food on the University campus, despite making no effort to reduce such, is a perfect contribution to the sort of vacuous activism that has become characteristic of our school. It has the same effect as the unsubstantial Land Acknowledgement that the University makes: “We acknowledge the people—past, present, and future—of the Wangunk Tribe on whose traditional lands we study, live and work.” Besides often inviting Gary Red Oak O’Neil M.A.L.S. ’82 of the Wangunk Tribe to talk to a bunch of detached intellectuals on his experience, has the University actually made any sort of meaningful restitution?

I cannot imagine that this plaque will be effective in the least. I cannot see any meat eater being convinced by this quaint little sign. Even among those who I know who do abstain from meat, they only do so for the sake of environmentalism or purity, not out of any sentimentality for animals. I myself am a pescatarian, albeit of dubious fidelity, for those same reasons listed before. My personal opinions on the consumption of meat itself are neither deep, nor fixed, nor nuanced, but allow me just to say that while indeed the sights of intensive animal farming are horrific, it must be conceded that with a world population exceeding eight billion humans (not people, because apparently animals are just as deserving of the word!), intense measures are required to feed them all with so limited space. Otherwise, we would be due for a Malthusian catastrophe. 

I was surprised to see that my predecessor on this subject, whom I had imagined would be opposed to such woke self-indulgence, was actually in favor of the proposal! And self-indulgence is the correct term, because, in addition to its lack of efficacy and consequence, certainly the language of this plaque is anything but serious: it is as if they are in on the joke! 

“This plaque is a memorial to all those individuals whose lives were spent in confinement, who endured abuse and exploitation, and who experienced the fearful trip to their slaughter—a journey that ended with the consumption of their flesh in this dining hall.” 

“Flesh!” What a simultaneously gross yet unserious word! It calls to mind the image of zombies rather than the victims of genocide that these animals are suggested to be. Such gross language hardly seems compatible with the representation of these animals as “individuals.” Furthermore, I cannot fathom how these advocates have come to believe that it is “injustice, prejudice, and violence [which have led] humans to believe that other animals’ bodies can be used for food.” And I beg anyone who agrees with them to take advantage of one of the numerous classes that the University offers in the natural sciences, which showcase that other animals do not hold such regard for one another when it is feeding time. 

Yet I believe that this plaque has one virtue that trumps all other considerations: It’s camp. Yes, indeed, I think it would be such a gag to have this plaque in the dining hall while meat is consumed to gluttonous excess. What delicious irony it would have! In fact, the gravity with which its advocates conduct themselves only serves to enrich its campiness, naïve camp to be specific, because that absolute seriousness without any consciousness of its campiness only makes the whole scene more satisfying. “The pure examples of Camp are unintentional; they are dead serious,” Susan Sontag wrote in her “Notes on ‘Camp.’” “In naïve, or pure, Camp, the essential element is seriousness, a seriousness that fails.” And as I have shown, it utterly fails. What, then, can the Wesleyan Animal Recognition Memorial be other than camp?

Anne Cain is a member of the class of 2029 and can be reached at acain@wesleyan.edu.