Why I should have stopped eating at Chick Fil A a long time ago

“I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we would have the audacity to try to redefine what marriage is all about.” (Dan Cathy)

“Of course, it’s perfectly OK to have the audacity to re-engineer God’s chicken design to make them 95% breast meat, and then drop a couple of strips of bacon and cheese on top of those bad boys, cuz you can’t take everything in Leviticus like it’s the word of God.” (Jon Stewart)

But smarter people ask where it comes from

I haven’t been to CFA since the whole Cathy Kerfuffle, though I probably will not stay away forever. But I have had to ask myself WHY I suddenly stopped eating there, over of all things a man’s personal opinion, when for years eating there has resulted in my participating in or supporting many other actions which I find repulsive, such as:

  • Growing ridiculous numbers of chickens, who are at best living their lives in a crowded dark warehouse eating feed not suited to their bodies, and are at worst genetically modified to produce the type of meat I want.
  • Consuming fats which are likely poisonous to my body and processed food with dubious nutritional content. Oh, and also, meat glue.
  • Eating produce which was almost certainly picked by an immigrant laborer who was paid maybe a pittance, or maybe nothing at all, for his or her work, all the while exposed to dangerous chemicals and backbreaking labor in any sort of weather.
  • Supporting a level and type of farming that requires altering natural processes, damaging the environment, and widespread use of fertilizer, pesticides and their ilk.

Why have I not questioned any of this before?

Granted, these are problems with almost any fast food – scratch that, almost any food you eat outside your home, period. And since reading Fast Food Nation several years ago I haven’t patronized the major fast food chains on any sort of regular basis. But I make excuses for my favorite places, either by virtue of knowing they treat their staff decently (In-N-Out), or because they give my kids books instead of toys and fruit or applesauce instead of fries (Chick Fil A), or because I know they source local and somewhat cleaner meat (Freebirds, Chipotle). I don’t have an excuse for why I eat at Five Guys (someone know something good about them?) but I only go there 1-2x a year anyway.

Anyway, all this to say that there are so many good reasons not to eat at any fast food chain that none of us should be doing it regularly. Certainly not up to three times a week, as I’ve been guilty of doing in the past with CFA (it’s my kids! I blame their addiction to nuggets! And the play structures that keep them amused while I avail myself of free wi-fi!).

This week I’m going to talk about just one aspect of this post: justice. Particularly in relation to the people who tend and pick the crops we eat. And I mean the stuff we buy to cook at home, too, not just what the major restaurant chains have to demand to meet their supply quotas. So if you’re not inclined to think about or change the way you eat, you should probably skip these posts. Because I’ve learned some seriously disturbing information, and I’m about to get all lady justice up in big ag’s ass.

Eating as a Spiritual Act (Part 1)

These are the first of my notes from a wonderful presentation I attended yesterday, entitled “The Spirituality of Stewardship, Sustainability, and Food”. It was held at the holy Rothko Chapel and featured Dr. Norman Wirzba of Duke (author of Food and Faith: A Theology of Eating)¬†as well as some Texan farmers and one pastor who are advocates for sustainability. But it was Wirzba’s talk which garnered the bulk of my note-taking, since he & I are simpatico.

Dr. Wirzba

If one does not eat mindfully, as Slow Foodies like myself advocate, one is reduced to being a “food consumer”, as opposed to being intentionally involved in some step of food production (be that growing, processing, preparing, sharing, etc.). That person labors under the misconception that food is something that can be purchased – that it is a commodity that he consumes.The first question Wirzba asked was: What are we doing when we are eating? He suggested that “eating is a holy mystery,” giving the example of Shakers who spend two full minutes in silence prior to eating any meal (not easy when you’re hungry!). This is to bring their minds to the present moment and to the food before them, so they will not eat mindlessly (he also mused, “Does eating mindlessly lead to living mindlessly?” – or I would say it could go the other way around, too).

But here is the difficult truth: “For any of us to eat, others have to die.” Not only animals, but plants; and then microbes in the soil, yeast organisms, even our own flesh which feeds the grass which begins the cycle over again. So the real question when you sit down to a meal mindfully might be: “How do you make yourself worthy of another’s life and death?”

In our culture, we are obsessed with eating yet we are ignorant eaters. As pointed out by Eric Schlosser in the seminal Fast Food Nation, we witness our values to the world by the way that we eat. Wirzba made a wonderful connection from this to the “99 cent value menu” – when we order from this “value” menu, right there we are broadcasting “value” all right – our values, placed on efficiency, price, and speed.

Who knew the 99 cent value menu had deeper meaning? But it’s just so appropo!

He pointed out too that the idea that we can talk into a box and then a hamburger magically appears before us reveals our supreme worship of all things convenient (and I would add it’s a wee bit sci-fi).

Living in a Fast Food Nation also means we lose the connections food can make for us: to place, to the earth, to animals, and even to other people. We wind up going “through” life instead of going “into” it; always passing “through” instead of “entering into”; living in touch with machines (like the squawk box) rather than human beings.

Connecting to people through food isn’t just about who we cook or eat with; it’s also about being aware of the people who produce, grow, butcher, process, and in all other ways make our food available. We are only 2-3 generations removed from a time when nearly everyone was a farmer, but today much of the world’s population lives in cities, and relates to the world entirely “through computers and credit cards.”

We also have what he termed “ecological amnesia”: that is, we don’t think about how ecology affects our ability to eat – how very vulnerable and fragile food actually is. In fact, we have a “food superstition” that “money produces food” – which is patently ridiculous (any farmer will tell you money can do very little to make food happen).

Wendell Berry described it another way, as “one night stand” eating: we want it cheap, we want it now, we don’t want to ask questions about its past partners or where it came from (no backstory, please), and after we’ve enjoyed it we’d like to move on without considering the future impact to our lives or bodies that this union might result in. (this is so incredibly apt – one of my favorite food metaphors ever!)

The anonymity of our current society (particularly fed by the Internet) contributes to this amnesia: we see a big beautiful red strawberry in the supermarket in January, and we don’t want to know how that’s possible (let me ruin it: it’s created by a mixture of poison and slaves). We don’t want to shatter our enjoyment of the moment of consummation with the strawberry (I added that part).

“Every time you eat you bite into ecological realities, you bite into agricultural realities, you bite into social realities…realities of greater or less justice, greater or less care, greater or less mercy.” And it is in religious traditions, Wirzba argues, that we can find help thinking through these realities.

I’m going to finish this in another post, since it’s getting long. Stay tuned!