Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Top Stories

The Blind Eye: Selective Empathy in an Age of Violence

Opinion

The Blind Eye: Selective Empathy in an Age of Violence
Person holds sign saying stop animal exploitation
Photo by Tico on Unsplash

We do not want bloodshed. Not in Gaza. Not in Ukraine. Not in another American school or home. The thought of hostages, children trapped under rubble, and screams amid gunfire pains us deeply. We say violence is wrong, period, and we demand that the government do something about it—that is, until it’s wrapped in plastic at a grocery store.

Every day, in places most of us will never see, workers kill animals. These victims haven’t done anything wrong; they are simply born in bodies that humans decide do not matter. We know what happens to them behind slaughterhouse doors—even if we try not to think about it.


Our government is more than complicit in this violence—it is an active participant, spending billions of dollars on animal agriculture, with some farms receiving tens of millions each year. Farmers who grow fruits, vegetables, and grains receive far less. That is why PETA is calling on lawmakers to end these wasteful subsidies and redirect the money to vegan foods, helping grocers stock healthy animal-free foods and ensuring everyone has access to compassionate, sustainable options.

The U.S. government also enables abuse in these industries to continue: PETA has documented that federal inspectors routinely record animals suffering in clearly illegal ways at slaughterhouses—animals punched, shot multiple times, left conscious as they are hoisted and hacked apart—yet the agency has never once referred these cases for federal prosecution. With lax inspections, weak enforcement, and confusing signals about whether state and local anti-cruelty laws can be applied, offenders go unpunished, cruelty continues to go unchecked, and offenders are emboldened because there are no consequences for their actions. This lack of enforcement sends a dangerous message: that cruelty to animals used for food is protected by the very system meant to stop it.

A healthy society depends on its members to question violence in all its forms, whether inflicted by nations or corporations, with missiles or in slaughterhouses. So let’s think about it: You would not eat a dog, so why eat a chicken? Dogs and chickens have the same capacity to feel pain, but prejudice based on species allows us to consider one animal a companion and another as food.

A paper published in the Social Psychological Bulletin revealed the mental gymnastics that some meat-eaters engage in to cope with their uncomfortable cognitive dissonance. The review examined self-soothing strategies people use to respond to triggers—things that recall the contradiction of eating meat while supposedly caring about animals. Processed “products” help numb that truth—when flesh is ground, shaped, and renamed, compassion and disgust are easier to suppress. Language itself softens the blow: “Steak” sounds more palatable than “dead sentient being.”

To ease our conscience, companies slap “humane” and “animal welfare certified” labels on animal-derived foods—but PETA’s investigations have revealed that these labels are meaningless and misleading. At Sweet Stem Farm, formerly a Whole Foods supplier, PETA found pigs crammed into sheds, denied outdoor access, suffering from untreated injuries like bloody rectal prolapses and enduring painful deaths, all while being marketed as “happy meat.” And at Plainville Farms, a PETA investigator witnessed workers violently abusing turkeys—they kicked, stomped, choked, and even mocked them with sexual gestures—while sick and injured birds were left to suffer and die.

Some of us may also deny that animals feel pain or comprehend what’s happening to them. But they do. Take fish, for example: A new study in Scientific Reports reveals that fish experience severe pain—and can suffer for at least 10 agonizing minutes after being pulled from the water.

This compartmentalization—the capacity to care selectively—is not just a personal moral contradiction. It’s a collective psychological barrier that enables societies to justify all kinds of cruelty: war, exploitation, and violence. When we decide that some lives matter less, empathy diminishes. And when empathy diminishes, democracy itself becomes fragile.

As the late, great Helen Thomas said: “A healthy democracy requires an informed people, facts make a country safe, and facts protect people.” The fact is that across the U.S., 99% of animals used for food spend their entire lives on farms—never enjoying sunlight, fresh air or freedom until they’re packed onto trucks bound for slaughter.

Vegan living is a vote for a world in which compassion is not rationed by species or convenience. Just imagine schools teaching that kindness should extend to every living being while feeding students a healthy plant-powered lunch. Imagine governments investing in food systems that don’t involve raising animals in squalor just to kill them while destroying the planet. If we can imagine it, we can do it. Everything starts with an idea.

The path to peace will never be paved with selective empathy. All it will take is for people like you and me to shift to vegan foods. It’s easy. Simple actions like choosing a lentil stew over processed flesh or ordering oat milk in your latte—these can shape markets and public norms. And it starts with us.

Rebecca Libauskas is a writer for the PETA Foundation, www.PETA.org.

Read More

Mandatory vs. Voluntary Inclusionary Housing: What Cities Are Doing to Create Affordable Homes

affordable housing

Dougal Waters/Getty Images

Mandatory vs. Voluntary Inclusionary Housing: What Cities Are Doing to Create Affordable Homes

As housing costs rise across United States cities, local governments are adopting inclusionary housing policies to ensure that some portion of new residential developments remains affordable. These policies—defined and tracked by organizations like the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy—require or encourage developers to include below-market-rate units in otherwise market-rate projects. Today, over 1,000 towns have implemented some form of inclusionary housing, often in response to mounting pressure to prevent displacement and address racial and economic inequality.

What’s the Difference Between Mandatory and Voluntary Approaches?

Inclusionary housing programs generally fall into two types:

Keep ReadingShow less
A thick cloud of exhaust rises up from a chimney in the blue sky

A comparative look at how New Jersey and Texas regulate refinery and chemical-plant pollution—and how weakened federal protections leave communities breathing unequal risks.

Getty Image, Hartmut Kosig

The Wind Doesn’t Know State Lines, Washington Doesn’t Seem To Care

As you cross the George Washington Bridge heading west, you can smell New Jersey. You pass through notorious Superfund marshes and speed through Newark's refinery smokestacks. East Coasters love to mock this “pollution alley," but here’s the twist: starting in the 1970s, New Jersey built some of the tightest refinery regulations in the country. If that corridor still feels toxic 50 years later, what's happening in states with far fewer protections?

When federal safeguards weaken, local rules decide how clean—or how dirty—the air gets. In mid-2025, the White House granted two-year delays for certain hazardous-air-pollutant standards covering dozens of large chemical-manufacturing facilities, including one within the Phillips 66 complex in Borger, Texas. Meanwhile, its sister refinery in New Jersey must carry on under the full force of both federal and state oversight. For families living near these plants, geography now dictates protection. Nearly 845,000 residents live within ten miles of New Jersey’s Bayway refinery—barely 2,200 around Borger’s—two very different stories emanating from similar operations and riding similar winds.

Keep ReadingShow less
California’s clean energy shift: how ending coal power impacts Latino communities

power station

Cover Photo: Pixabay

California’s clean energy shift: how ending coal power impacts Latino communities

California has taken another step away from fossil fuels. For the first time in decades, the state will no longer buy electricity produced from coal, ending a long-standing reliance on out-of-state power plants such as the Intermountain facility in Utah. The move is both symbolic and practical. It confirms that California’s grid, one of the largest in the world, has officially cut ties with the dirtiest source of energy still used in the United States.

The Intermountain Power Plant once sent electricity hundreds of miles through transmission lines that connected Utah’s coal fields with Los Angeles. That arrangement allowed California to meet part of its growing energy demand without technically burning coal at home. Now that contract has expired, and the plant itself is being converted to operate on natural gas and hydrogen. California officials say the end of coal imports is a turning point in the state’s decades-long effort to cut emissions and accelerate renewable energy.

Keep ReadingShow less
A landfill.

As Hurricane Melissa breaks records, scientists warn Earth’s life-support systems are failing—while U.S. leaders censor climate data and delay real action.

Getty Images, Pramote Polyamate

The Time for Comfort Is Over; Climate Change Won’t Wait Till We’re Ready

As Hurricane Melissa cements itself as the strongest storm ever recorded in the Atlantic basin—fueled by unseasonably warm ocean temperatures 2.5 °F above average—we must grapple with what this means for our future.

In a recent report, scientists found that seven of the nine planetary boundaries essential for sustaining life on Earth are in decline, with ocean acidification newly entering the list of concerns. As we all learned in elementary school, everything requires balance. Yet we are rapidly approaching tipping points that our communities and our lifestyles are ill-prepared to handle.

Keep ReadingShow less