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Browse > Home / Blog Posts, Essential Blog Reading / The Fallacy of “Fates Worse Than Death” The Fallacy of “Fates Worse Than Death” April 28, 2009 by Nathan J. Winograd

Recently, I read a letter from a woman who has spent half a century doing animal rescue work. Her description of her experiences over the years, including the heartbreaking rescue of a near-dead kitten abandoned near a dumpster, makes it clear she cares deeply about animals. And yet, she opposes No Kill. She opposes No Kill because she believes that “there are fates worse than death.” And she cannot conceive of a No Kill nation because she sees a crisis of uncaring in the U.S., a conclusion drawn from decades of experience seeing abandoned, neglected, and abused animals. She knows this, she says, not from “percentages, data, and studies,” but from “what she has seen with her own eyes.”

Sadly, she, and other animal rescuers who share these views, have been in the trenches of rescue work so long, that they have become myopic, and as a result, they have come to believe that the world of animals is little more than pain and suffering. They have been led to believe in the inevitability of certain outcomes, and the things they witness seem to confirm this point of view for them. In addition, the large national organizations which they turn to for guidance reaffirm their beliefs: people don’t care, irresponsibility is rampant, there are too many unwanted animals, and the only available choices for a majority of these animals are a quick death in a shelter or suffering on the streets. Because they lack personal experience at progressive shelters which would debunk these views and have trained themselves not to see evidence to the contrary all around them, they have actually come to believe that “killing is kindness” and the alternative is worse. But they could not be more wrong.

And what is driving these misplaced perceptions is a lack of perspective—perspective which comes from a larger view, a global vision, a top-down image they cannot see and which the animal protection movement historically has failed to provide. They have a distorted view of reality. If they took a step back, if they allowed themselves to see what is happening nationally, if they kept an open mind and stayed informed about the emerging success of the No Kill movement, they would see something else entirely, as many other rescuers do. They would see the “big picture”—which reveals that there is a way out of killing and that a No Kill nation is not only possible, it is well within our reach.

There are roughly eight million dogs and cats entering shelters every year, a small fraction compared to the 165 million in people’s homes. Of those entering shelters, only four percent are seized because of cruelty and neglect. Some people surrender their animals because they are irresponsible, but others do so because they have nowhere else to turn—a person dies, they lose their job, their home is foreclosed. In theory, that is why shelters exist–-to be a safety net for animals whose caretakers no longer can or want to care for them. And the majority of animals who enter these shelters can, and should, be saved.

Based on dog bite extrapolation data, an analysis of intakes at shelters, and the results of the best performing shelters in the country, about 90% of all animals would be adopted if our shelters where compassionate places run by animal lovers dedicated to saving lives. Indeed, imagine if this were actually realized. Imagine if shelters provided good care, comfort, and plenty of affection to the animals during their stays at these way stations funded through tax and philanthropic dollars by a dog- and cat- loving culture. And imagine if all shelters embraced the No Kill philosophy and the programs and services which make it possible. We would be a No Kill nation today. Because while roughly four million dogs and cats are needlessly killed every year, there are also three times as many people—upwards of 17 million—who are looking to get a new companion animal next year and who have not yet decided where that animal will come from. And, as communities across the country have proven, a great many of them could very easily be persuaded to adopt a shelter animal.

Today, there are cities and counties saving 90% of all incoming animals. Several of these communities are more than doubling adoptions and cutting killing by as much as 75 percent—and it isn’t taking them five years or more to do it. They are doing it virtually overnight. For example, the Nevada Humane Society in Reno has led an incredible lifesaving initiative that saw adoptions increase as much as 80 percent and deaths decline by 51 percent. Reno’s success occurred almost immediately after the hiring of a new shelter director committed to No Kill and passionate about saving lives. Her appointment followed the 20-plus year reign of a darling of HSUS—a member of their national sheltering committee—who for two decades found killing easier than doing what was necessary to stop it.

But what is happening in Reno and other places is not what is happening in most communities. Not because it isn’t possible, but because it has not been a priority for shelter managers and the bureaucrats who oversee them. In these shelters, lazy and uncaring employees shirk their duties: they fail to feed the dogs and cats; make them sick by cutting corners on cleaning protocols; leave them in squalor; and show open hostility to volunteers who could help by socializing, grooming, and giving the animals the love and attention they deserve. These shelters refuse to make adoptions a priority, choosing to kill the animals out of expediency because they have a built in excuse handed to them thanks to the HSUS-inspired paradigm which says it is all the public’s fault.

Tragically, for many animals, the first time they experience neglect or abuse in their lives is when they enter shelters. The sick and fearful animals rescuers see are the victims of the shelter’s abuse. They see new animals coming in and the old ones leaving in body bags. And they blame the public, although it is the shelters that refuse to put into place programs which would eliminate the perceived “need” to kill. What they don’t see, unless they live in a community that has a shelter that has embraced a culture of caring and lifesaving, is a shelter filled with adopters, volunteers, and well-cared-for dogs and cats. What they don’t see are feral cats at sterilization clinics, puppies and kittens at offsite adoptions, clean cages, and veterinary care.

The contrast between a regressive, kill shelter and a fully functioning No Kill one could not be starker. But because they don’t see the latter and have been told over and over that the former is the “best we can do”, they ignore what is so obviously inhumane and accept a system of sheltering that is nothing short of medieval. If they had a larger perspective—a progressively run, lifesaving shelter to compare to the one they are familiar with—they would clearly see that the tragedy is actually the nation’s sheltering system, run by uncaring directors, union-protected shirkers, and politicians who have abdicated their fiduciary duty to ensure that these institutions are run in line with the public’s values, which are, in reality, incredibly humane.

The sad fact is that our perceptions do not always reflect the truth because we can misconstrue what we experience. For instance, I recently met a veterinarian who was convinced that feral cats are suffering horribly. I explained that after twenty years of feral cat advocacy and work in the animal sheltering field, I found little evidence to support such an assertion and that, in fact, studies and my own experience reveal that feral cats are by and large happy and healthy wild animals, like raccoons or opossums. I asked if her perception might be obscured: Since she does not participate in feral cat spay/neuter clinics, she sees only feral cats who are sick or injured and never encounters the vast majority of feral cats who are healthy and thriving. “I never thought of that,” she said, leaving me with the hope that I had planted a seed that would blossom into a new, more positive, and more accurate perspective.

I think many in the humane movement suffer from a similarly warped perspective of reality based on the work they do and where and how they spend a majority of their time. The problem appears larger and more pervasive than it is. Visiting poorly performing shelters on a regular basis, seeing scared, sick animals who are not being properly cared for and the occasional victim of abuse and neglect, you lose sight of a broader, more accurate perspective of people and how most of them really feel about animals.

You forget that there are more people who care than don’t care and that most people are decent to animals, concerned about their welfare, and can be trusted with their guardianship. You forget that people are spending $47 billion every year on their animals, a number that is growing even as most other economic sectors are plummeting. You forget that people are missing work when their pets get sick. And that they are cutting back their own needs during difficult economic times because they can’t bear to cut back on what their animal companions need. And you forget that No Kill success throughout the country is a result of people—people who care deeply.

People who embrace the No Kill philosophy, people who would volunteer at the shelter, who would foster needy animals, who would donate money even in times of economic uncertainty, who would adopt from the shelter if the shelters were welcoming places—if volunteerism was encouraged, if foster programs were made available, if the shelter was clean, if staff was kind, and if the adoption process was thoughtful. Communities where shelters have boldly and sincerely proclaimed their desire to become No Kill have found an eager public ready to help make it a reality.

In fact, evidence of caring is often all around those who believe that people don’t care enough about animals, but they can’t recognize it as such or dismiss its import as the “exception.” Even though they are constantly seeing “exceptions,” they don’t assimilate what it means unless someone hands them perspective. They fail to reach the proper conclusions even when the people who adopt the animals they rescue send letters and photos, and thank them over and over for enriching their lives. They fail to recognize this when they see people at the dog park, or crossing their paths on their morning dog walks around the neighborhood. They even fail to recognize them in the stories, the care, and the embraces at their own veterinarians’ offices—the waiting rooms never devoid of people and their companion animals, the faces of scared people wondering what is wrong with their animal companions, and the tears as they emerge from the exam rooms after saying good-bye for the last time.

They don’t see that books about animals who have touched people’s lives are not only being written in ever-increasing numbers but are all best sellers because people do care, and the stories touch them very deeply and very personally. They don’t see that the success of movies about animals is also a reflection of the love people have for animals.

They fail to see how people were terrified as news spread of the pet food recall in 2007, when tainted pet food from China devastated lives. And while animals lost their lives because of tainted food, they were not the only ones to suffer. Their caretakers did, too, as thousands of caring, of helpless people had to witness the suffering of their pets as their government and a government overseas betrayed them for industry profits.

They don’t draw lessons from the fact that people support animal-related legislation, even at the expense of their own economic interests. During the 2008 election, for example, Massachusetts voters ended greyhound racing. In 2007, Oregon voters followed Florida’s 2002 lead and banned gestation crates for pigs. And in 2006, Arizona voters passed a farm animal protection statute banning veal crates, while Michigan voters defeated a measure to increase hunting in the State. In November 2008, Californians voted overwhelmingly to end battery cages for chickens. In short, they can’t see that despite all those things that separate us as Americans, people of all walks of life want to build a better world for animals.

The conclusion they should draw from these votes but fail to reach is that Americans don’t just care about dogs and cats; they even care about animals with which they do not have personal relationships. We need to put to bed, once and for all, the idea that dogs and cats—animals most Americans now consider cherished members of their family—need to die in U.S. shelters because people are irresponsible and don’t care enough about them. If they would only open their eyes, these animal rescuers would see that shelters in those communities which have embraced the public—communities saving 90% and more of animals—have proved that there is enough of this love and compassion in every community to create No Kill despite the irresponsibility of the few.

If those who rescue animals but remain steadfast in their opposition to No Kill really took stock of what was around them, what they would come to see is that while any case of an individual animal suffering abuse or neglect at the hands of a human is unacceptable and tragic, the number of these incidents is small compared to the number of dogs and cats loved, pampered, and cared for by the American public. To, therefore, use the plight of a tragic few to legitimize and indeed endorse the systematic killing of millions of savable animals by our nation’s corrupt and broken animal shelter system is not only misguided, it is egregious and obscene. And it systematizes abuse and neglect by failing to challenge the actual causes of the horrible situation they encounter in regressive shelters. Ultimately, by supporting these shelters, albeit naïvely, they grant absolution to those who are responsible and help perpetuate the sad outcomes. In short, they make things worse in failing to demand better.

They don’t see and fail to understand because the next time they find an abandoned kitten, or the next time they rescue an abused dog, they forget all over again. Or they simply do not assimilate all the information into a larger perspective because it conflicts with their own personal beliefs—that people are irresponsible and just don’t care and so the animals must be killed—and so it is shut out. Ironically, though they see themselves as loving and caring, their hearts are closed. Blinded by dogma, they filter everything they see and everything they experience through the belief that animals are victims of uncaring and cruel people—and their belief that it’s a problem of such scope and magnitude that the only way out is to kill the animals. As a result, they create a real problem—mass killing—as a solution to a phantom one.

What makes this point of view especially disturbing is the illogical leap it causes people to make from a false assumption (animals are suffering in overwhelming numbers) to a violent conclusion: the idea that mass killing is acceptable, indeed desirable. Because even if the first assumption were true (it is not), the conclusion simply does not follow. There are many, many possibilities in between to combat it—education, adoption, redemption, sanctuary, rescue, rehabilitation—that are ignored simply because the notion that killing is the “logical” outcome has dominated the sheltering dialogue for so long and so completely. It is regarded as acceptable and inevitable even though it the most extreme, unnecessary, and inhumane of many possible responses.

Even if a case could be made that people do not care, embracing death for these animals is still a non-sequitor. While these rescuers work to stop animals from suffering, they inadvertently champion the same attitude towards animals that allows for such abuse—indeed, that perpetuates it: the idea that animals do not matter, that their lives are of little value and are easily expendable. Their advocacy that animals need to be killed in shelters undermines the entire principle which should be motivating their rescue efforts. Animal cruelty is horrible not only because of the pain and suffering of animals but because it often kills animals. And killing animals is the ultimate betrayal—the worst thing we can do to them. To “rescue” them from abuse and potential killing to turn around and advocate for killing makes no sense whatsoever. Even if they are not convinced of the viability of No Kill alternatives, to be responsible advocates, they are nonetheless obligated to try, especially since it has been proven to work in many jurisdictions.

In the end, their argument comes down to the false notion that there are fates worse than death. And, sadly, too many people who in rescue work have adopted this point of view, even though it is patently false on its face, all the more because it incorrectly assumes there are only two choices available: killing at the pound or killing at the hands of abusers or on the streets. Working hard to end the scourge of abuse and neglect—and to punish the abusers—is not mutually exclusive with saving the lives of the innocent victims. In fact, the moral imperative to do one goes hand in hand with the other.

Yet in rescue work, some argue that death for the animals is a way out of suffering, forgetting that the right to live is inviolate. These people forget that what they seek for animals they would never seek for people. They forget that no matter what the context and all through history—in Cambodia, under the Taliban, in Serbia-Croatia, as in Darfur—despite the savagery, people cling to life, they cling to hope, and none of the survivors (and none of their rescuers) would suggest they should have been “humanely euthanized” by the liberating army. To suggest such would be to perpetuate the violence and abuse the victims have already suffered.

While cruelty and suffering are abhorrent, while cruelty and suffering are painful, while cruelty and suffering should be condemned and rooted out, there is nothing worse than death, because death is final. An animal subjected to pain and suffering can be rescued. An animal subjected to savage cruelty can even become a therapy dog, as the dog fighting case against former football player Michael Vick showed. There is still hope. Death is hope’s total antithesis. It is the eclipse of hope. Because they never wake up, ever. It is the worst of the worst—a fact each and every one of us would recognize if it was us facing death. And it is arrogant and an abuse of our power over defenseless animals to think it is our right to make such a determination for them.

I am not naïve. I understand that the method of killing is important, and if we lived in a two dimensional world of shadows—if we really lived in Plato’s cave—where the choice was nothing more than to be killed inhumanely or to be killed in a less brutal way, we would pick the latter each and every time. Although I have called repeatedly for the end of shelter killing, I have also supported efforts to abolish cruel methods of killing, as in the case of the draconian gas chamber—which too many shelters have refused to do. But that is not the choice presented. The choice is not, as rescuers contend, a choice between continued suffering or death at the pound. This is not the option the animals face. Once they are rescued from abuse, more suffering should no be longer an option.

No one is suggesting that shelters leave animals to their abusers or that we adopt animals out to them. Everyone agrees that abuse is terrible and something no animal should be made or allowed to endure. Of course, they must be rescued from these horrible fates. But once rescued and taken into protective care from former abusers, the question becomes do we find them homes, or do we allow them to become victims yet again by killing them? Why the leap to arguing that because they experienced abuse in the past, they should be killed now? Or that all the other animals entering shelters should be killed? It’s illogical.

In fact, taking this argument to its natural conclusion, it essentially advocates against the notion of adoption entirely in favor of immediate killing as a preventative against future suffering. In essence, those who champion the “fates worse than death” argument as a reason not to embrace No Kill are advocating a “solution” of the mass killing of millions of animals as a response to the abuse or neglect suffered by some animals in the United States, which does absolutely nothing to erase the abuse that has already been done. How does one naturally lead to the other? And how is killing some animals a prescriptive against future abuse, when we cannot know nor predict when or where it is about to occur, unless we are willing to exterminate all animals, everywhere, to guard against the possibility of it ever occurring again? Taken to its logical conclusion, it would mean killing every dog and cat in shelters. This is not only an obvious obscenity; it is a proposal for slaughter with no end.

And yet in spite of these very disturbing and misguided views, I am not willing to say that such people are necessarily beyond rehabilitation. Certainly, I would never wish to legitimize their point of view, nor do I believe that future generations will look back kindly or sympathetically on their support of killing, even in light of their false perceptions. Ultimately, it does not matter one bit to the dog or cat being injected with poison by a shelter worker whether the motivation is lack of caring, laziness, cowardice, politics, or a real belief in the need to do so. The end result is the same—death—and equally tragic, indefensible, and immoral irrespective of who is doing the killing and why it is being done. Yet even though they are absolutely wrong, we should not give up on trying to rehabilitate them, because, in the end, they can become allies.

What they need is perspective—a larger view, a global vision, a top-down image they cannot see from the trenches about the incredible success all around them: That the four million killed in shelters do not tell the full story.That the story is also about the 165 million in homes. That the kitten abandoned in a dumpster is overshadowed—though no less tragic for it—by the great lengths people go to when their animals are sick or by the compassion of those who come forward to give that kitten a second chance. That while the shelter in their community is killing at an astonishing pace, shelters in other communities have stopped doing so when they embraced, rather than condemned, the larger public, and committed themselves to ending the killing by asking the public for help in achieving it.

And it is incumbent on all of us who champion the life-affirming philosophy of No Kill to overcome this myopic view in the animal rescue community to help them see the bigger, more accurate, and more optimistic picture. Because unlike the lazy shelter manager or the union-protected shirker or the self-serving politician, these people do care about animals and can be made to change in earnest not just out of political expediency. They can become believers. And when they do, they become a further force for change. We must expose the fallacy of their beliefs—the belief that the choice is between an expedient shelter death or slow suffering on the streets or in the hands of abusers; that in order to be No Kill, shelters must warehouse animals because there are too many for the too few available homes; and that, even if those were the choices, it is acceptable for animal activists who claim to speak on behalf of animals to accept or champion for those animals that which neither they themselves nor the animals if they could speak would accept or want for themselves: death.

And so we come back to the first and primary principle of the humane movement: Animal shelters are supposed to be the safety net for animals not an extension of the neglect and abuse they face elsewhere. And like other service agencies that deal with human irresponsibility, shelters should not use that as an excuse to negate their own responsibility to put in place necessary programs and services to respond humanely, and therefore, appropriately. Imagine if Child Protective Services took in abused, abandoned and unwanted children, and then killed them. We should no more tolerate it for animals.

This is the perspective they need. And with enough of it, they’ll eventually see. Eventually, they, too, will be liberated from their pessimism and share in the optimism, the hope, and the tremendous potential this truth offers our animal friends and offers all of us. They’ll get their “Ah Ha!” moment when they finally see through the fog they have been living under—a fog created by groups like HSUS—the condemnation of the public that has been ringing out so deafeningly for decades and which legitimizes the killing. It may take some time—time and perspective—but it is our solemn duty to give it to them until they do, even while we vociferously oppose the deadly policies they currently champion.