First, a couple of words about the backstory of this clip. I won't go into detail regarding the issue of whaling in Iceland, which should be relatively well known to all, but rather focus on two small incidents that I have witnessed - one earlier this year, the other over five years ago.
I'll start with the older one, which happened in 2003 and is one of the reasons I went vegetarian that year. The idea had been simmering in my head for quite some time, but never really taken root, until the summer of 2003, when I started some heavy ethical thinking. One of the sparks was the visit of Greenpeace to protest against Icelanders taking up whaling again, after years of banning. I felt that I was against whaling, but I couldn't really find the right arguments for it, as I was still a meat-eater. Why was I against whaling, and not other forms of hunting, or breeding, for food? Being interested in environmental issues, I volunteered to help out with Greenpeace's visit, and did some work for them, thus getting to know some of the people involved. Once I asked a man, who seemed to be their spokesman, why he was against whaling, or what was his standard answer to this question. He began talking about the majestic whale, being a symbol of the giants of nature and the ocean, and seemed to see whale defense as symbolizing the environmental battle of Greenpeace as a whole - if we lose the whales, what hope have we to help out other, smaller, creatures/issues?
I understood his point of view, but this sort of thinking did not ring true with me. There was something wrong with it, I could feel it - an inconsistency that I couldn't put my finger on until, a few days later, some pro-whalers arrived at the Reykjavík harbor to protest Greenpeace. They did this by bringing a barbecue with them and throwing some freshly killed whale on the fire. Greenpeace members responded in a very friendly manner, by joining the protesters at the BBQ and having a good talk. But, needless to say, they did not have any whale meat. Instead, the grilled some veal.
This is the moment when I broke away from Greenpeace and began my own quest for ethical consistency. I did not like the idea of eating veal. I did not like the idea of killing whales. Yet, I ate other kinds of meat. I began feeling pretty much like a hypocrite. I also began viewing the Greenpeace activists as being hypocrites. How can you be against killing a whale and yet justify the slaughter of calves? To make a long story short: I couldn't justify being against whaling and yet eating other animals bred for slaughter, so I became vegetarian and have been one since.
This brings me to the second point. Whaling is still an issue in Iceland and in the time of unemployment due to the economic crisis, whaling is easier to justify than before (it creates jobs!), even though the old economic arguments against whaling still stand strong (it makes our touristy image dirty and whale meat isn't very popular as export goods). We still have people against whaling, but I doubt very much that the majority of those people are vegetarian.
So, earlier this year, I was at a gathering where our minister of education was having an open Q&A with some university students. The main topic of discussion, of course, was the crisis. However, at the start of the conversation, one guy threw in a question of whaling that really caught my attention. Do bear in mind, that this minister is probably one of the most left-wing politicians holding seats in parliament, so the fact that she - of all people - would be found guilty of such drastic nonsense as will be unveiled a few lines from now, vividly shows how backward the Icelandic thinking of the whale issue - and the issue of fish - really is.
Let it be stated for the record that I voted for Katrín Jakobsdóttir in the elections this year, even after hearing her answer to the young man's question, because I do have respect for her as being one of the most intelligent left wing politicians we have. Unfortunately, she's not too well educated on the issue of animal sentience. She represents the Left Green Party, which is very vocal against whaling. As is usually the case, such arguments can not easily be won on sentimental grounds, so economic arguments reign supreme. But this young man, who obviously was pro-whaling and only trying to embarrass the minister, pointed to a much more relevant root of the matter. He asked, in a very basic manner: You are against whaling - but what is the difference between killing a whale and killing a haddock?
My ears immediately came alive. I was sitting at a table, very bored with the discussion and, to be honest, mostly there for the free drinks involved. Next to me sat a friend from work, who knew everything about my position. Indeed, we had had similar discussions at work before. He is a meat-eater, but nevertheless he had expressed his annoyance for vegetarians who still eat fish (an issue that has always bothered me as well). From this discussion, we had talked about the seemingly unkillable myth that fish do not feel pain - something that has been debunked time and time again, but just doesn't seem to take hold. Particularly not in a society that bases itself on killing fish. So the government official's response really shouldn't have surprised anyone: Well, ask anyone involved in animal ethics and they will tell you that there is in fact a big difference. The whale is a mammal, and can therefore feel pain, but the haddock is a fish, and therefore cannot. After this statement, she mentioned that this wasn't really the point, and went, yet again, into a discussion of the economic disadvantages of whaling.
My friend gave me a little push and a stare, urging me to join the discussion, but I wasn't ready for that. Thinking back, maybe I should've stood up for the fish, but having an argument with 50 university students, who were definitely against the idea of fish feeling pain, didn't really seem attractive at the time. If I were to meet Katrín Jakobsdóttir face to face at some point, however, I will most definitely bring up the issue - just to tell her that in the view of most people involved with animal ethics, no, there really isn't that much of a difference between killing a whale and a haddock. If you want to be consistent, you either kill'em all, or spare'em all.
Which, finally, brings me to the beautiful interview with the whale hunter.
[For some reason embedding this video doesn't seem to work, but please watch it here.]
He's been off the seas for 30 years, working in land, but now, due to unemployment, he's heading back out. There is an aesthetically pleasing quality to the man's speech about whaling. He answers the questions with well-crafted one-liners, about the right to kill whales, and obviously has strong opinions on the issue. To him, this is all natural. His sentences are like bullets - you do this, you do that, and that's the way it is. The man is old school and he speaks like the older generation of farmers and industry workers - in an honest way, with everything face-up and no hiding behind bureaucratic nonsense.
In other words, no shitting.
Which is what makes the following response so beautiful, when the interviewer throws out the commonly held view that there is something inherently wrong with killing whales:
Interviewer: Don't you feel sorry for these large creatures, when they approach death?
Hunter: There is no difference between killing a chicken and a whale. It's just one soul, one shot, takes one second, the creature is dead. I had to take my dog away the other day and that was difficult.
Although he doesn't really answer the question, he has no illusions about killing. It's all the same - a chicken, a whale and a dog. Even though he doesn't clearly answer if he feels sorry for the whale, he does imply (by referring to it being difficult to have had his dog put down) that it is always difficult. [The example of the dog could be seen as an example of something that is difficult, as a counterpoint to it not being difficult to kill the other animals, i.e. with emphasizing "that was difficult", but the man's tone of voice implies that he is in fact connecting the two things - killing is always difficult. At least be honest about it.
The reference to the soul is interesting, as it puts the animals as all being equal in the end, through the possession of a soul. The soul of a chicken weighs as much as the soul of a whale and a dog. I wonder what the religious beliefs of this man are, since those who tend to believe in human souls generally do not extend that belief to animals... Does this mean the hunter will meet his whale in heaven? No, not really - it's just a metaphor for saying all animals are equal for killing (unless, of course, you're lucky enough to be a human animal).
Hats off for Sveinn Geir Sigurjónsson, the honest whaler.
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