Inhumane Labor

Inhumane Labor
Will Fagan
“I am standing with Mike O’Connell, 54, of O’Connell Industries. What began as a small family-run farm grew into a massive agricultural industry that includes dairies, slaughterhouses, and equipment manufacturing. Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. O’Connell.”
“No problem, Miss.”
“Now, I must admit, the speed at which your company developed is shocking. You started O’Connell Industries two years ago, and today you make an estimated five-hundred million dollars a year. What is the secret to your success in so short a time?”
“It was pretty hard for most of my life, farming these here fields. For generations my father and grandfather toiled this land, working themselves to exhaustion to make a profit. Sometimes we barely broke even. It took me a lot of work to reach where I am today. I like to think it was the standard American ideal of blood, sweat, and tears. Of course, tapping into the animal labor force certainly helped as well.”
“I beg your pardon, animal labor force?”
“Correct. You see, I began to wonder if it were possible to train the cows in the dairy barn to operate their automatic milkers by themselves. By doing so, I had more time to attend to matters elsewhere on the farm. You see, a cow is smarter than most people think: if you calmly explain a task to them, they are able to grasp concepts quite quickly.”
“So, you taught the animals to milk themselves?”
“That’s right. Of course, I soon had them doing other tasks as well. The hardest part was teaching them to drive.”
“Drive?”
“Yes, I soon determined that female cows had difficulty operating the steering wheel and pedals, as their udders tended to get in their way. Now, though, we have cows operating most vehicles around the farm. See that biplane up there?”
“The one buzzing over us?”
“Yep, that’s old Smokey, my prize Shorthorn bull. He’s in charge of dusting the crops. He’s a good, honest worker, very diligent, never misses a spot.”
“Does fly well?”
“Oh, yes, loads better than the last bull I had in the cockpit. He crashed shortly after takeoff. Damn shame. Some don’t take to flying as well as others.”
“So, is it just cows who work for you?”
“Oh, no, we’ve managed to get most of the barnyard to chip in. The sheep tend to the crops. They ain’t that smart, so we give them simple tasks. The goats run the equipment manufacturing. They’re best suited for assembly line work.”
“Why?”
“Smaller hooves, easier for them to grasp tools.”
“I didn’t think it was possible for a goat or cow to grab anything with hooves.”
“See, that’s the common misconception among most people. They see an animal as mere chattel, livestock, but they can work, too, and work damn better than any human I’ve ever met.”
“How so?”
“Well, they don’t take holidays. Don’t grasp the concept of religion, so Christmas and Easter are right off. They also don’t take payment.”
“Have they ever asked for payment?”
“Of course not. Animals can’t talk.”
“But apparently they can fly aircraft.”
“Don’t get smart-alecky.”
“Apologies. One final question, if farm animals are in charge of running most of your properties, then who is in charge of the, ahem, slaughterhouses?”
“The chickens?”
“Why the chickens?”
“I don’t know. I think they’re just sociopaths. I’ve watched them at work, and they seem to take real pleasure in what they do.”
“You are a ridiculous person.”
“How can you tell?”