I’ve been re-listening to the audiobook version of Karen Levenson’s book “Confessions of an Animal Rights Terrorist” and looking for a pithy way to sum it up.
It’s not easy because it’s a memoir with multiple threads. There’s the author’s fight to end Canada’s commercial seal hunt, which forms the heart of the story. But there’s also the nightmare she experiences when her terminally ill husband becomes progressively sicker and more debilitated — yet also more abusive and controlling.
Levenson faces more mundane dilemmas throughout the course of the story, like how to make a living doing honorable work in a world that treats other animals as resources. She finds a breakthrough after taking on yet another ethically sketchy role because she needs the money — a university job that puts her in direct contact with a group of beagles facing execution after a life of experimentation. Unwilling to let them die, she breaks the rules and finds a way to get them all adopted.
Taking the initiative for the beagles is a new start for Levenson. It’s what ultimately launches her career as a full-time campaigner for the seals. That’s how she enters the orbit of movement stars such as Sea Shepherd Conservation Society founder Paul Watson, Liz White of Animal Alliance of Canada, Rebecca Aldworth of Humane Society International/Canada and many more. Later on, Levenson is persuaded to run for a parliamentary seat on the Animal Protection Party ticket.
In the aftermath of the Canadian election, now seems like as good a time as any to revisit the book.
But this isn’t a book review. More like a book brain dump.
Strengths and weaknesses
From my perspective as a listener, “Confessions” has strengths and weaknesses. There are times when the author tries too hard to be clever and when confessional writing spills into oversharing. Did we really need to know so much about Levenson’s early life and her preoccupation with Twiggy, the 1960s fashion model? I also wasn’t a big fan of the forced juxtapositions between violent animal exploitation vignettes and episodes from her childhood in Boston.
OK, maybe that’s petty.
For me, the memoir’s biggest strength lies in documenting the shameful history of Canada’s seal massacre and the corrupt way power operates in Canada.
With an overactive inner voice whispering in her ear, Levenson uncovers proof that politicians and government employees hide behind creative math to defend an industry with little or no benefit to the country they purport to represent. At every turn they dodge questions, deflect criticism, and withhold information they’re legally required to disclose. Only by sleuthing can she hope to outsmart them.
At one point in the story, then-Senator Mac Harb publicly defends the seals only to have his career destroyed over fraud allegations that ultimately come to nothing. Is this a coincidence?
Levenson doesn’t explicitly say one way or another. It’s up to the reader to puzzle it out.
The WTF files
Canadian readers who care about animals will be enraged at the antics of the country’s bureaucratic elite. The way these people brush off inquiries and ignore legitimate questions from Levenson and her colleagues is vile. The way they shift blame and concoct false narratives to soft-pedal the violence is obscene.
Just as enraging is the encounter that gives the book its title. The Canadian Security Intelligence Service — basically, the Canadian equivalent of the CIA — arranges a meeting under false pretenses to grill Levenson about whether she knows any “terrorists.” The word is apparently code for anyone seeking to disrupt the country’s animal exploitation industries, no matter how tame their methods.
This is a loose thread in the story that could have used further development, in my view.
How did Levenson make it onto CSIS’ radar? Were its agents following her, or spying on her? She speculates that the CSIS interrogation may have had something to do with a “date” who suddenly rejected her because of an aversion to her companion animals’ fur, but she provides scant details.
WTF. Who is this loser, and why isn’t he named and shamed?
Problematic tactics
There are times when I can wholeheartedly cheer for Levenson, like the chapter where she saves the beagles. She continues to earn my respect as she patiently approaches friends, acquaintances and random strangers, hoping to collect enough signatures to run in the election and represent the Animal Protection Party.
People dismiss her as a “fringe” candidate, suggest she’s not “serious,” and question why she’s even running when she has no chance of winning. But her campaigning, her presence at candidates’ events and her pointed questions make a difference.
Still, there are aspects of her approach that don’t sit right with me. It’s disturbing to see animal advocates play by the government’s rules and throw around jargon like “TAC” — short for “total allowable catch” — when talking about the murder of innocent animals. In Levenson’s world, animal advocates question the economic value of the seal hunt as if a higher dollar figure could justify its existence. They talk about “crashing the population” as if it were populations and not individuals that mattered.
I have no doubt that Karen Levenson genuinely believes in animal rights, but framing the seal hunt in this way flies in the face of the core principles of the animal rights philosophy.
Promoting boycotts vs. promoting plants
In one scene Levenson and other animal rights campaigners sit at a table with a group of politicians, arguing against the seal hunt on the basis of what harp seals do or don’t eat — whether they actually compete with humans for cods as the other side claims.
Well, so what if they did eat cods?
Levenson knows full well that humans can thrive on plants. She doesn’t think sea animals exist to feed humans, and she doesn’t include them on her own plate, but in a roundabout way she encourages their consumption by promoting a “boycott” of Canadian “seafood.”
The boycott is a tactic to pressure the government. I get that. But the campaign implies fishes, shrimps and other sea animals are food — that someday when the seal hunt ends, the boycott will be lifted. That until then, eating sea animals is OK as long as they’re not from Canada.
Post-election thoughts
Despite my gripes, I liked the book and recommend it as a valuable source of information — and inspiration. If the author had been a candidate in my riding, I almost certainly would have voted for her.
But I do wonder if politely sitting around tables and begging for crumbs is the way forward for animals. Maybe there’s a better path we haven’t found yet.