The real threat to our food supply and public health is lack of regulation

In response "Animal rights activists threaten our health and food supply," (The Hill Times, Oct. 8) to my previous op-ed "Unjust, unwise, and unconstitutional: Bill C-275 has no place in Canada," (The Hill Times, Oct. 30) about agricultural gag, or “ag-gag” laws, former Conservative MP Robert Sopuck misses the mark on several key points. Sopuck rightly emphasizes the vulnerability of concentrated animal feeding operations (also known as CAFOs or, more colloquially, “factory farms”) to diseases, underscoring the necessity for stringent sanitation measures. One would think, given the stakes, that we would have national, standardized biosecurity protocols for farms, coupled with government oversight to ensure compliance. However, no such federal requirements or enforcement exists; there are only voluntary biosecurity guidelines published by the Canadian Food Inspection Agency, and a patchwork provincial system inadequate to the challenge of a borderless threat like disease. Riana Topan is the senior campaign manager with Humane Society International/Canada. In the past two decades, there have been no documented cases of animal advocacy activities causing a biosecurity issue in Canada. Instead, numerous cases of disease outbreak can be directly attributed to standard agricultural practices or producers’ lapses in biosecurity. Studies reveal a consistent link between biosecurity concerns and poor farming practices with many outbreaks directly traceable to the actions of farm owners and operators—for example, sharing needles and equipment, or failing to properly disinfect trailers. A genuine approach to enhancing biosecurity must address the two true gaps in the system: a lack of biosecurity requirements, and practices inherent in intensive animal agriculture that increase the risk of diseases, like keeping thousands of animals in crowded, stressful conditions. By directing its focus to the wrong source—animal advocates—Bill C-275 jeopardizes both animal welfare and public health. Sopuck argues that there are sufficient standards for animal care within animal agriculture. Yet the codes of practice he mentions are created by a membership-based organization dominated by animal farming interest groups, such as Dairy Farmers of Canada and the Canadian Pork Council. While veterinarians are involved, the codes are developed by consensus and only contain standards that all members agree to, resulting in the lowest acceptable standards of animal care. In the end, there is little transparency in the development and enforcement of the codes, and they are not legally enforceable. Then there are the extensive animal cruelty loopholes in our legal system. The Criminal Code Sopuck mentions can only be applied in the most extreme cases of animal cruelty, and it requires a very high burden of proof. To make matters worse, in every province (as well as the Yukon), animal agriculture practices are exempt from provincial animal cruelty acts if they are considered “generally accepted” practices, no matter how much suffering they cause. This allows animal farming interest groups to decide what is and isn’t permissible simply based on how common a practice is. As Sopuck points out, trespass is already illegal, making measures like Bill C-275 redundant. In the rare instances where animal activists have trespassed, they have been charged under relevant, existing trespass laws. Bill C-275 is really an anti-trespass bill disguised as a biosecurity measure. That’s why many legal experts believe that is likely unconstitutional—after all, trespass falls within provincial rather than federal jurisdiction. Sopuck goes on to argue that concentrated animal feeding operations typically being in remote, rural areas means they are susceptible to crime, seemingly forgetting about the implications for farmed animals. Given that large-scale animal farms are often far from cities and main roads, and that most animals are housed in windowless barns, how can there be any kind of public accountability? Indeed, undercover exposés on farms and at slaughterhouses in Canada have revealed horrific animal mistreatment in Canada. Chilliwack Cattle Sales, where in 2014 cows were seen being repeatedly punched, kicked, and beaten with canes; Hybrid Turkeys, where in 2014 a witness documented a turkey being beaten to death with a shovel and an employee advising an undercover worker to kick birds; and Maple Lodge Farms, where in 2013 more than 1,500 chickens froze to death in trucks headed to the slaughterhouse. If Canada had more robust laws and regulations ensuring animal welfare on farms, we would have no need for whistleblowers. Rather than proposed laws that use animal advocates as a scapegoat, we need meaningful requirements to bolster animal welfare, mitigate biosecurity concerns, and tackle other important issues tied to animal agriculture such as the risk of another pandemic, and the growing problem of antimicrobial resistance. Sopuck’s op-ed seemingly attempts to divert attention from his lack of substantive arguments by raising topics that are entirely irrelevant to Bill-C275, such as animal testing and the price of food in Nigeria. The issue here is that Bill C-275 will do nothing to improve Canada’s food system. It duplicates existing trespass laws, targets the wrong source of biosecurity threats, and intends to suppress whistleblowers who would speak out about animal cruelty, food safety risks, poor working conditions and/or environmental violations. In any free and democratic society, whistleblowing is one of the most effective ways of uncovering corruption and exposing wrongdoing. In Canada, we expect people to raise concerns about misconduct in every other industry, and we celebrate those who reveal injustices in health-care facilities, schools, and other places of public importance. Industries as fundamental as our food supply should not be an exception. Riana Topan is the senior campaign manager with Humane Society International/Canada. The Hill Times