The year 2100. A student opens their anthropology textbook. They read: “Early 21st century humans killed billions of animals for taste, even though they knew these creatures could feel pain and had other options.” Our great-grandchildren will look at our meat eating the way we look at Roman gladiator fights, witch burning, or slavery—pure barbarism.
History shows a pattern. Every generation thinks what they do is right. Medieval Christians thought burning heretics saved souls. Colonial Europeans justified slavery with racist theories. Nazi Germany convinced itself genocide was scientific. We’re doing the same thing—we know animals suffer, but we keep eating them.
Science proves it clearly. Mammals have complex emotions. Pigs solve problems better than dogs. Cows make friends and mourn their dead. Chickens recognize dozens of people and show empathy. Yet we divide them into “pets” and “food.”
Factory farms are organized torture. Billions of animals kept in spaces designed only for profit. Psychological pain—babies taken from mothers, unable to move, unnatural environments—all to cut costs. Future historians will call this the largest organized cruelty in human history.
Climate science adds more evidence. Animal farming produces more greenhouse gases than all transportation combined. Forest destruction for grazing land, water pollution from waste, antibiotic resistance—all traced to meat production. Future generations inheriting climate disaster will see our food choices as criminal.
The saddest part: alternatives exist now. Plant-based meat that tastes almost real. Lab-grown meat where no animal suffers. Nutrition science confirming plant diets are healthy. Economic analysis showing sustainability benefits. The solutions are here, the moral duty is clear, yet we continue.
The psychology behind our blindness fascinates. Pretty language (“beef” instead of “dead cow”), distance (slaughterhouses hidden from us), scattered responsibility (one person’s choice feels meaningless), cultural normalization (tradition justifies cruelty). Future psychologists will study our era as a textbook example of collective moral failure.
The biggest irony: we claim to love animals while funding torture. We spend billions on pet comfort, entertainment, and medical care while identical species suffer in farms. This moral split will mystify our descendants.
Like Humayun Ahmed wrote simply, I want to say this simply too. We all know right from wrong. We know animals feel pain. We know the environment is being destroyed. We know alternatives exist. Yet we don’t stop. Why? Simple reasons—habit, taste, culture. We’re human. We’re not perfect. We make mistakes.
But history teaches one thing. What’s normal today becomes barbaric tomorrow. Slavery was once normal. Women not voting was normal. Child labor was normal. Now? Unthinkable. Our grandchildren will see us the same way.
The question is, do we wait for history to judge us? Or do we change now?
Change is hard. But not impossible. Every big change started with small steps. One person, one meal, one day. Slowly. We can do it.
The 2100 textbook can be written two ways. One: “They knew but did nothing.” Two: “They understood and changed.” Which book we appear in—that choice is ours right now.