—–Jermichael Evers, B1Daily

Industrial farming sells itself as efficiency, but in reality it is one of the most brutal and morally bankrupt systems modern society has normalized. Behind sanitized packaging and marketing slogans lies a machinery of suffering that treats living beings as disposable inputs, destroys ecosystems, and asks consumers to look away while cruelty is scaled to an industrial level.

Factory farms confine billions of animals each year in conditions that would be illegal if inflicted on pets. Chickens are packed so tightly they cannot spread their wings. Pigs spend much of their lives in metal crates barely larger than their bodies, unable to turn around. Cows are bred to produce unnatural volumes of milk or meat, their bodies breaking down long before the end of their natural lifespan. These animals experience pain, fear, and stress every day, yet the system is designed to suppress those realities in the name of profit margins.

The suffering is not incidental — it is structural. Industrial farming depends on overcrowding, deprivation, and speed. Animals are mutilated without anesthesia to prevent them from injuring each other in conditions they were never meant to endure. Illness spreads rapidly in these environments, so antibiotics are used not to heal but to keep animals alive just long enough to be slaughtered. This constant drug use contributes to antibiotic resistance, threatening human health while animals remain trapped in cycles of misery.

Environmental devastation follows close behind. Factory farms generate massive amounts of waste, far more than surrounding land and waterways can absorb. Manure lagoons leak into groundwater, poisoning drinking supplies and choking rivers with nutrient runoff that creates dead zones in lakes and oceans. Forests are cleared to grow feed crops, stripping the land of biodiversity and accelerating climate change. Industrial livestock production is a major contributor to greenhouse gas emissions, yet it continues to expand under the false promise of feeding the world cheaply.

Communities living near these operations bear the cost. Air thick with ammonia and hydrogen sulfide causes respiratory illness. Water contaminated with nitrates increases cancer risks. These are not accidents; they are the predictable outcomes of concentrating millions of animals and their waste into small geographic areas, often near low-income and marginalized populations with little political power to fight back.

What makes industrial farming especially damning is that it forces a moral contradiction onto society. We acknowledge that animals can suffer, that they form bonds, feel fear, and seek comfort — and then we collectively accept a system that denies them every natural behavior for the entirety of their lives. We hide the reality behind euphemisms like “processing” and “harvesting,” as if changing language can erase cruelty.

Now ask yourself a harder question: would you accept these conditions for your children? Would you be comfortable with them living in cages so small they could not turn around, denied fresh air and sunlight, subjected to routine physical mutilation, and valued only for how much profit their bodies could produce? If the answer is no — and it should be — then why is it acceptable for any living being capable of suffering?

Industrial farming teaches a dangerous lesson: that efficiency excuses cruelty, and that economic gain outweighs compassion. It conditions us to accept violence as normal so long as it happens out of sight. That mindset does not stay confined to agriculture. It seeps into how we treat workers, communities, and the planet itself.

The harm inflicted by factory farming is not just an animal rights issue; it is a reflection of societal priorities gone wrong. A system that normalizes mass suffering, environmental collapse, and public health risks in exchange for cheap convenience is not sustainable — morally, ecologically, or socially.

Ending or reforming industrial farming is not about perfection or purity. It is about refusing to accept a model built on misery. It is about recognizing that how we treat the most vulnerable — human or animal — defines who we are. If we would never tolerate our children being treated like livestock in captivity, then perhaps it is time to question why we tolerate it at all.

—–Jermichael Evers, B1Daily