I remember the world in 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic swept across nations. Every medical facility was mobilized to save human life, and through global cooperation, a vaccine was developed in just over a year. I remember all that was devoted to healing sick and suffering bodies. 

At the same time, I remember the years 2010 to 2011. When foot-and-mouth disease spread across South Korea, tens of millions of animals were killed, on the mere suspicion of infection. The full force of the state was mobilized to bury these bodies, dead or alive. I remember the cruelty inflicted upon these sick and suffering bodies. 

Simply stating that “I remember” is not quite right. While the chaos of COVID-19 is largely behind us, livestock epidemics continue to recur year after year. One cannot remember what has not yet ended. That is why it is wrong for me to say that “I remember” the mass culling of animals during these ongoing outbreaks. 

Let me correct myself once more. Even saying that livestock epidemics have “not ended” is misleading—because we never truly put an end to them. We have neither quarantined infected animals to naturally recover, nor have we made efforts to treat them so that they might heal.

In fact, even saying that we are attempting to put an end to livestock epidemics is wrong. In reality, we are actively creating the very conditions for disease to thrive. We pump animals with growth hormones that inevitably ruin their immune systems to accelerate their biological growth. We expose them to glaring, artificial lighting that renders sleep impossible. We confine them to cages so small they cannot move and have no choice but to live in their own waste. Under these conditions, these living and breathing beings are senselessly culled in the name of "efficiency." 

In fact, it is not only animals that die in the name of efficiency—humans are also mobilized for such mass culling. The work involves the systematic killing of millions of animals, creating intensely violent working conditions that leave countless workers with deep psychological scars. In the past, soldiers and public officials were assigned to this task, leading to 75% suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and nine losing their lives. As the brutality of cullings came under public scrutiny, the labor was passed onto foreign migrant workers, those who are often excluded from official health statistics. As a result, we cannot know how many lives are lost to the culling process. 

Some argue that consuming meat is an unavoidable part of survival. But how far does this claim of inevitability truly extend? Does it apply only to the slabs of meat served on our plates? Does it also include the animals that are raped and forcibly impregnated to produce that meat? The ones confined in cramped spaces for life, all in the name of efficiency? Those slaughtered for simply falling ill in environments designed to breed disease? Or the migrant workers who face severe psychological trauma as they are forced to carry out the mass killing of millions of animals? How deeply must death embed itself into our daily lives before we can no longer look away? 

This year, there have once again been multiple outbreaks of livestock diseases—avian influenza, foot-and-mouth disease, and African swine fever, among others. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of animals have been indiscriminately slaughtered, simply for contracting illness or for being located in the vicinity of outbreaks. Meanwhile, countless new workers must bear the psychological toll of their working conditions, and some have likely even been pushed to the brink of suicide. 

Unless we begin to question the very foundation of a system built on the loss of life, these “unavoidable deaths" will only continue. 

The author is the president of Seoul National University’s vegan society nubegans. --Ed.