Bing and Bong are good friends. They live in the same neighborhood and often meet for pleasant conversation. In this case, Bing has been out for a walk and happens to pass Bong's yard. Bong is sitting next to his barbecue grill and has begun to eat. Bing walks through the gate to greet his good friend.

Bing: Hello, Bong, what is that you're eating there?

Bong: (With his mouth full) Hello Bing. This is a piece of beef. Very succulent, too, I might add. Especially tasty with this excellent fresh asparagus.

Bing: "Beef"? I wonder why we don't call it "cow." "I'm eating a piece of cow", you should say.

Bong: (Who has put down his fork and is looking doubtfully at his meal) Cow! Come now Bing. Why is it that one can never enjoy a meal when eating with a biologist. I remember a few weeks ago when you got off on that discussion about wasp eggs in the fig newtons.

Bing: Yes, I remember that conversation too. An interesting piece of pollination biology to be sure. But you're trying to divert me from my main point. We seem to have a number of "weasel words" to describe what we eat: poultry, veal, pork, and, of course, beef. Is that because we want to hide from ourselves what we're actually doing?

Bong: And what, pray tell, is it that you think we're "actually doing"? Honestly, Bing, sometimes you can be so exasperating. We are actually eating a piece of meat that provides us with all sorts of important nutrients like protein and iron, and provides it while tasting good at the same time.

Bing: Oh, I don't deny that we see that as what we're doing, but that hardly can mean that is all we are doing. Imagine, for example, how many people would go to McDonalds if they advertised pulverized cow muscle sandwiches. There would be just as much protein and iron, but somehow we would find it more difficult to do. It's hard to eat a hamburger while looking a cow in the eye. Big lovely brown eyes! And the cute downy noses too.

Bong: Well, you've certainly made my meal today, Bing. I admit that it's easier to eat what you don't relate too. But, then, you biologists are full of "weasel words" too. I note that biological literature refers to the "sacrificing" of animals in experiments: "Four days after the drug was administered we sacrificed the rabbits in order to obtain their spleens." I have often wondered on what altar this sacrificing is done. Why don't you just say, "We killed the rabbits and cut out their spleens."

Then there is the term "animal model." Rats given naloxone are referred to as "animal models of diabetes." Such an objective, detached point of view. I think of constructing a small scale model of a steam locomotive, not giving rats a drug that ruins their pancreas so they suffer from diabetes.

Bing: You certainly know how to strike home when you're wounded, Bong. I suppose you're right. Biologists also find it easier to cause death and pain in animals if they avoid relating to the beasts. Still, I think that is necessary so that the important work of biomedical research can be carried out. We need to use those animals, just as you seem to think you need protein and iron from cow muscles. Otherwise, where would we be in the treatment of disease? Animal research is very important to human well being.

Bong: Is it? There is some debate on that these days as I understand it. There are those who think we could do just as well with computer models and other replacements of animals in research. And besides, think of all the research in animals that can't directly be justified on the grounds of important medical research. No, I think biologists are just as thoughtless about animals as meat eaters are. It hardly seems to me that the killing and maiming of animals is justified simply because people benefit from it. Why not make the same argument for doing research on humans? If you could benefit from doing surgery on other humans without anesthesia, would you do it?

Bing: Boy, you really get mean when you have indigestion, Bong. And to think that I was only out for a pleasant walk at the beginning of this play. Can animals be thought of as individuals to which we owe moral concern for any of the reasons that we owe that concern to humans? How would we decide, and why would we think about these questions at all? Is this something that only Buddhists would worry about, or are there reasons that Christians would find the treatment of animals in research a legitimate subject for concern? What are some of those reasons?

(Gaze at the accompanying overhead about the number of animals used in science and testing as you discuss these questions. Spend a few minutes continuing Bing and Bong's discussion, and then we'll all talk together.)
 

[Donald Cronkite 3/20/94]