Down the food route

In his latest blog entry, Malachy Tallack charts the course of food from the field to the freezer

There are those who argue that anyone who is willing to eat meat should also be willing to kill it themselves, and I can certainly understand the logic of that statement. There is a huge degree of pretence in much of the food that is consumed today.

The supermarkets are filled with pre-prepared and packaged meat, to which everything possible has been done to try and disguise the fact that it originated from a living creature. But despite that, I’m quite sure that most carnivores, in the right situation, would kill rather than starve. They would just prefer not to. And I don’t blame them.

Killing an animal is not an enjoyable experience, and anyone who does enjoy it should probably not be allowed near animals in the first place. Nor is it something that should be taken lightly.

I suppose the closer an animal is, in biological terms, to humans, the more difficult it must become to harm it. Swatting a bluebottle or squashing an ant wouldn’t trouble too many people’s consciences; killing a fish to eat would also pose little difficulty for most. But as you climb the evolutionary ladder, it gets more complicated.

Croft lambs from Fair Isle are sent to mainland Shetland to be sold. From there, most will be shipped to Scotland and sent to abattoirs there. The hill lambs however, stay on the isle, and are killed and eaten by the crofters themselves.

To have a freezer full of meat that you can guarantee has had a good life, and that will also taste fantastic, is a huge privilege, and is one of the greatest benefits of crofting. Indeed, it is this self-sufficiency which is meant to be at the heart of the crofting lifestyle. It is unfortunate I suppose, that sheep don’t get themselves ready to be eaten, and that we have to intervene, but that’s just the way it is.

From the field to the freezer is a process of a few days for a lamb. Once dead, it is skinned, gutted and hung for about three days before being cut up, ready to eat or to freeze. The job of getting it ready becomes gradually less unpleasant from beginning to end.

Butchering is pretty easy. By that stage the lamb has become meat, and it is simply a case of learning how to turn a whole carcass into roasts, chops, steaks and stew. Skinning and gutting are not nice jobs. They are messy, time-consuming and not for the weak-stomached. But it is the first part – the killing – which is the difficult bit.

For those who do it as a job, or who have done it every year for many years, I suppose it must become automatic and unquestioned. For me it is neither. And though, in reality, the death itself is quick and painless for the animal, it is a moment that lingers.

In some cultures, taking an animal’s life is an act of great spiritual importance, and many rituals have grown up around it, each marking the event as something significant. In Christianity too, saying grace and giving thanks must serve, in part, as a reminder that this food, this meat, is not to be taken for granted.

For me there is no ritual to be performed, and I would not go so far as to say that it is a spiritual event. But I do recognise something significant in it. And that recognition seems to be enough to satisfy any concerns, and, most importantly, to allow me to enjoy the food that it brings.

Malachy Tallack is 26 and lives in Fair Isle. He is a singer-songwriter, journalist, and editor of the magazine Shetland Life.
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Leaving the cleaning to someone else makes you happier? Men have known that for centuries

Research says avoiding housework is good for wellbeing, but women have rarely had the option.

If you want to be happy, there is apparently a trick: offload the shitwork onto somebody else. Hire cleaner. Get your groceries delivered. Have someone else launder your sheets. These are the findings published by the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, but it’s also been the foundation of our economy since before we had economics. Who does the offloading? Men. Who does the shitwork? Women.

Over the last 40 years, female employment has risen to almost match the male rate, but inside the home, labour sticks stubbornly to old patterns: men self-report doing eight hours of housework a week, while women slog away for 13. When it comes to caring for family members, the difference is even more stark: men do ten hours, and women 23.

For your average heterosexual couple with kids, that means women spend 18 extra hours every week going to the shops, doing the laundry, laying out uniform, doing the school run, loading dishwashers, organising doctors' appointments, going to baby groups, picking things up, cooking meals, applying for tax credits, checking in on elderly parents, scrubbing pots, washing floors, combing out nits, dusting, folding laundry, etcetera etcetera et-tedious-cetera.

Split down the middle, that’s nine hours of unpaid work that men just sit back and let women take on. It’s not that men don’t need to eat, or that they don’t feel the cold cringe of horror when bare foot meets dropped food on a sticky kitchen floor. As Katrine Marçal pointed out in Who Cooked Adam Smiths Dinner?, men’s participation in the labour market has always relied on a woman in the background to service his needs. As far as the majority of men are concerned, domestic work is Someone Else’s Problem.

And though one of the study authors expressed surprise at how few people spend their money on time-saving services given the substantial effect on happiness, it surely isn’t that mysterious. The male half of the population has the option to recruit a wife or girlfriend who’ll do all this for free, while the female half faces harsh judgement for bringing cover in. Got a cleaner? Shouldn’t you be doing it yourself rather than outsourcing it to another woman? The fact that men have even more definitively shrugged off the housework gets little notice. Dirt apparently belongs to girls.

From infancy up, chores are coded pink. Looking on the Toys “R” Us website, I see you can buy a Disney Princess My First Kitchen (fuchsia, of course), which is one in the eye for royal privilege. Suck it up, Snow White: you don’t get out of the housekeeping just because your prince has come. Shop the blue aisle and you’ll find the Just Like Home Workshop Deluxe Carry Case Workbench – and this, precisely, is the difference between masculine and feminine work. Masculine work is productive: it makes something, and that something is valuable. Feminine work is reproductive: a cleaned toilet doesn’t stay clean, the used plates stack up in the sink.

The worst part of this con is that women are presumed to take on the shitwork because we want to. Because our natures dictate that there is a satisfaction in wiping an arse with a woman’s hand that men could never feel and money could never match. That fiction is used to justify not only women picking up the slack at home, but also employers paying less for what is seen as traditional “women’s work” – the caring, cleaning roles.

It took a six-year legal battle to secure compensation for the women Birmingham council underpaid for care work over decades. “Don’t get me wrong, the men do work hard, but we did work hard,” said one of the women who brought the action. “And I couldn’t see a lot of them doing what we do. Would they empty a commode, wash somebody down covered in mess, go into a house full of maggots and clean it up? But I’ll tell you what, I would have gone and done a dustman’s job for the day.”

If women are paid less, they’re more financially dependent on the men they live with. If you’re financially dependent, you can’t walk out over your unfair housework burden. No wonder the settlement of shitwork has been so hard to budge. The dream, of course, is that one day men will sack up and start to look after themselves and their own children. Till then, of course women should buy happiness if they can. There’s no guilt in hiring a cleaner – housework is work, so why shouldn’t someone get paid for it? One proviso: every week, spend just a little of the time you’ve purchased plotting how you’ll overthrow patriarchy for good.

Sarah Ditum is a journalist who writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman and others. Her website is here.