Tuesday, November 19, 2024

NDP Statement on Louis Riel Day 2024

 November 19th, 2024

NDP MP Blake Desjarlais (Edmonton Griesbach) made the following statement:


“On November 16th 1885, 139 years ago today, the Canadian government executed Métis Leader, the Honourable Louis Riel. He was the founder of Manitoba, a father of the Confederation,
and a brave defender and steward of Métis rights and self-determination. Riel was unjustly executed for opposing colonial polices that forcefully displaced Métis people.

Riel stood for the rights of Métis people and for minority French language rights in Canada. Generations of people to follow would pick up the torch left by President Riel and would go on to fight for greater respect and rights of Métis people. Today we recognize this pain felt by Métis people and commit to truth, justice, and reconciliation by recognizing this profound injustice and commit to a future of Metis dignity and pride, one that Riel would be proud of.

Today, New Democrats, along with Canadians across the country gather to pay their respects to the Honourable Louis Riel and recommit to continuing his legacy by fighting for justice and rights for all."

BLAKE IS MY MP

Let virtue be our soul's food'

A poem and introduction written by Louis Riel for his jailer about three weeks before Riel was hanged for treason: Robert Gordon! I beg your pardon for so having kept you waiting after some poor verses of mine. You know, my English is not fine. I speak it; but only very imperfectly.

The snow,

Which renders the ground all white,

From heaven, comes here below:

Its pine frozen drops invite us all

To white -- keep our thoughts and our acts,

So that when our bodies do fall,

Our merits, before God, be facts.

How many who, with good desires,

Have died and lost their souls to fires?

Good desires kept unpractic'd

Stand, before God, unnotic'd.

O Robert, let us be fond

Of virtue! Virtues abound

In every sort of good,

Let virtue be our soul's food. Louis (David) Riel Oct. 27, 1885 Regina Jail







LA REVUE GAUCHE - Left Comment: Rebel Yell

 

Source: Freedom News


Illustration by Lisa Larson-Walker


How far can the ‘right’ (the legally and collectively assured effective possibility) of each individual, of each group, of each commune, of each nation to act as it wants, extend once we know – and we have always known it, but the ecology movement forcefully reminds us of it – that we are all embarked on the same planetary boat and that what each one of us does can have repercussions on everyone else?[1]

~Cornelius Castoriadis

It is a good thing that there is increasingly more talk about the looming catastrophe that threatens our societies, as a result of climate change and deepening ecological crises. There is, one can suggest, an improvement in this respect in comparison to previous years, when such issues were either overlooked and kept out of the spotlight. And it’s not only citizens and social movements that emphasize on the urgency – governments and corporations try to give the impression that they too are concerned about the environment, despite the fact that they are the chiefly responsible for the current mess.

But there is a major problem with the way the issue is being examined in the mainstream, due to the dominant systemic parameters. Deeply submerged within the imaginary of top-down management and constant economic growth, it completely misses the root-causes of the ecological crises we currently face.

One stark example is the question of energy production and distribution. Mainstream environmentalists and politicians increasingly advocate in favor of the replacement of dirty fossil fuels with renewables. And while one such transition is, of course, crucial for combating climate change and environmental degradation, it is by no means the only prerequisite, since the issue is not a technical one, but a matter of paradigm.

People who tend to focus solely on the transition towards clean renewable energy accept for granted, even as ‘natural’, the current capitalist pattern of perpetual economic growth. This logic doesn’t question the parameters of the dominant system, but only seek ways of ‘greening’ them so that business as usual can continue. In its essence, this way of thinking doesn’t really strive towards resolving the forthcoming ecological catastrophe, but to only prolong the time we have left until then.

It is most certain that the energy of a democratic and ecological society will derive from renewable sources, rather than from the extraction and burning of finite resources. This is among the prerequisite for sustainability, but most certainly not the only one. In regards to this Cornelius Castoriadis has been warning social movements at least since the 1980s that projects that deal with renewable energy resources can, in part be co-opted towards ends that could not even be labelled reformist – that is, toward the end of plugging up the holes in the existing system.[2]

It is the idea that our societies can continue down the same path of perpetual growth that must be tackled. There is simply no ecological way of satisfying the ever-increasing energy needs of an increasingly wasteful way of life. In this line of thought contemporary degrowth advocate Jason Hickel calls on us to face the issue:

Even if this wasn’t a problem, we must ask ourselves: once we have 100% clean energy, what are we going to do with this? Unless we change how our economy works, we’ll keep doing exactly what we are doing with fossil fuels: we’ll use it to power continued extraction and production at an ever-increasing rate, placing ever-increasing pressure on the living world, because that’s what capitalism requires. Clean energy might help deal with emissions, but it does nothing to reverse deforestation, overfishing, soil depletion and mass extinction. A growth-obsessed economy powered by clean energy will still tip us into ecological disaster.[3]

The continuous increase of our energy use will demand the constant expansion of renewables, whose production in itself is not without its own environmental and social cost.[4] Wind turbines, solar panels, etc. are all made by rare minerals and materials that have to be extracted from the earth, with considerable ecological imprint. For a society based on extreme consumerist lifestyles there will never be enough energy, there will always be need for more.

A more holistic way to approach the issue will be to advocate simultaneously for renewables replacing dirty fossil fuels, while also resisting the dominant capitalist paradigm and advance an alternative project that seeks to degrow the economy, reduce unnecessary consumption, etc. It is only in this way that we can avert the looming ecological catastrophe.

This will imply the usage also of low-tech technologies that do not leave environmental impact, while still allowing us to live dignified life. By departing from the imaginary of perpetual economic growth we can realize that the resolvement of our daily problems can come not only from high-tech solutions, which are preferred by the current capitalist standards as more marketable and more prone to planned obsolescence, but also by simpler, older methods and techniques that may prove invaluable in dealing with the looming climate crisis, while also paving the way for an ecological society. As Hickel suggests:

Our understanding of what counts as technology should not be limited to complex machinery. Sometimes simpler technologies are more effective, more efficient, and more democratic: bicycles, for instance, are an incredibly powerful technology for helping to decarbonize urban transport, and agroecological methods are vital to restoring soil fertility.

An example for such a non-energy intensive technology can be found in the city of Yazd, located in contemporary Iran. Built between two deserts, it experiences its fair share of extreme high temperature. But since ancient times its inhabitants have developed an ingenious way of cooling and ventilation, where with a little clay they have devised an extraordinary technology that in a perpetual, natural and truly renewable way does the work of an expensive air conditioner with a heavy ecological footprint. 

We are talking about the so-called “wind catchers”, chimney-like towers that draw in a pleasant cool breeze and direct it into the house of the residents for better, natural air conditioning that is non-electrically intensive, carbon-free, and with a very low maintenance cost.

In fact, many wind towers were made to connect to underground water pipes so that they could drive the cold air below ground so that the running water can also be cooled.

By this process the internal temperature of houses can drop by 8C to 12C in such a hot place.

Public transport is another approach that uses much less energy than the dominant means of transportation that has taken over most cities around the world – the automobile. Urban environments are mercilessly dominated by cars, a domination that results from a lifestyle pushed by a powerful industry and the capitalist time-is-money pace. And the dominance of the automobile contributes significantly to pollution.

The response of mainstream environmentalism has been to advance the electric car as “the ecological alternative” to the one that runs on fossil fuels. But this view tends to overlook the environmental and social cost that the production of electric cars has. What this so-called alternative actually tries to achieve is to sustain intact the consumerist lifestyle associated with automobiles, while “greening it”.

A much more ecological approach would be to shift urban mobility away from private cars and towards public transport, which is much more sustainable, with significantly smaller environmental impact and much less energy intensive. As ecosocialist Simon Pirani suggestscities with more public transport and fewer cars are not only more socially equal, more healthy and less polluted. They also emit far fewer greenhouse gases.

Such approaches to energy may seem unprofitable in a growth-obsessed capitalist framework, where planned obsolescence is embedded into technologies so as to coerce individuals and communities into replacing, rather than repairing and sustaining what they already have. But in a democratic and ecological post-capitalist setting, self-managed by the grassroots, rather than run by profit-driven markets and elites, it seems as self-evident.

According to Richard Heinberg, author and Senior Fellow at the Post-Carbon Institute, we need a realistic plan for energy descent, rather than insisting on foolish dreams of eternal consumer abundance by means other than fossil fuels. Currently, politically rooted insistence on continued economic growth is discouraging truth-telling and serious planning for how to live well with less.

One such paradigm cannot be implemented in a top-down manner, because hierarchies always prioritize the interests of the ruling class – the higher your position in the social ladder, the greater your interest is in maintaining the basic systemic parameters that got you in that privileged position in the first place. Such approach can only produce shallow reforms that can lead to no meaningful change.

Instead, it must be built from the ground-up so as to reflect the needs and desires of all members of society, rather than those of tiny business and political elites. A direct-democratic society where decision-making processes are open, inclusive, and transparent, enables a shift away from the profit-driven, growth-oriented global economy towards more sustainable, and equitable alternatives that allows for greater community control over local economies and natural resources. The potentials of energy production and distribution within one such framework is highlighted by Pirani:

decentralized renewable power generation has great potential: it is well-suited to municipal and local development, and to forms of common ownership, and is compatible with more effective, and lower, levels of final use of electricity.

In a stateless post-capitalist setting, where power is equally shared by everyone collectively, we have every right to believe that the priorities and ways of doing things will be radically altered, posing questions that today may appear unthinkable, like ‘energy – why and for whom?’. Following this reasoning, Castoriadis suggests that:

another society, an autonomous society, does not imply only self-management, self-government, self-institution. It implies another culture, in the most profound sense of this term. It implies another way of life, other needs, other orientations for human life. [5]

In conclusion, it can be suggested that it’s becoming increasingly clear to a growing amount of people that no serious solution can come from the dominant systemic framework in response to ecological breakdown. Regardless of who is in position of power, it is the capitalist obsession of growth and competition that won’t allow for any substantial change to take place, but only minor reforms that mostly have to do with greening of consumerist patterns. What is urgently needed is a radical alteration of the societal organization. Only by shifting decision-making power away from bureaucratic institutions (like parliaments) and mechanisms (like the profit-driven capitalist market) towards grassroots participatory organs (such as popular assemblies and councils of delegates) that a new, much more sustainable, ecological, and democratic future can emerge.


[1] David Ames Curtis (ed.): The Castoriadis Reader (Oxford: Blackwell, 1997), p251.

[2] David Ames Curtis (ed.): The Castoriadis Reader (Oxford: Blackwell, 1997), p248.

[3] Jason Hickel: Less is More: How Degrowth Will Save The World (London: Penguin Books.), p21.

[4] Sophie Theresia Huber & Karl W. Steininger: ‘Critical sustainability issues in the production of wind and solar electricity generation as well as storage facilities and possible solutions’ in Journal of Cleaner Production, Volume 339 (2022)

[5] David Ames Curtis (ed.): The Castoriadis Reader (Oxford: Blackwell, 1997), p250.


Suriname’s Debt Crisis Shows Us How Global Capitalism Works

With rich Amazon forests and fewer than a million people, Suriname is one of the few countries that absorbs more carbon than it produces. But the former Dutch colony is now being forced to implement destructive austerity by global financial interests.
November 18, 2024
Source: Jacobin


A meeting of civil society group, Projekta Suriname. Image Credit: Projekta Suriname



Suriname is a former Dutch colony in South America, best known for the pristine Amazon forests that cover 93 percent of the country and make it one of only three countries that absorb more carbon emissions than they produce. It has recently become more interesting to the rest of the world for two main reasons: the fact that it is experiencing one of the world’s worst debt crises, and the discovery of offshore oil and gas in immense quantities.

The people of Suriname find themselves living in a dual reality. In the present, there is a brutal austerity program imposed by the International Monetary Fund (IMF), wreaking the usual havoc on people’s lives. At the same time, politicians assure them that the country has a bright future ahead in which abundant oil revenues will solve all problems and benefit everyone.

Suriname is an important case study in the way financialized neocolonialism works in the twenty-first century. A feminist perspective on debt can supply us with invaluable tools for thinking about the destructive impact of debt and finding ways to combat it.
Debt and Neocolonialism

Suriname’s fertile land and navigable rivers have for centuries been profitable for powerful foreigners. Dutch settlers took over coffee, sugar, and cotton plantations from the British in 1667 and established what was arguably the most brutal slave economy in the region. However, the Dutch colonizers did not stray very far into the forested interior, where indigenous people and Maroon communities of people who escaped slavery defended their autonomy.

Yet even before the country gained its independence from the Netherlands, US commercial interests were transforming the landscape. Vast tracts of forest were flooded, forcing the Maroon Saamaka community from its lands in order to build the Afobaka Dam, which would generate hydroelectric power for the bauxite factory of the Aluminum Company of America (Alcoa).

When Suriname was no longer sufficiently profitable to Alcoa, the company packed up and left, having managed to sell the dam back to Suriname. Thanks to unfair deals that doubled electricity prices and left Suriname exposed to swings in commodity markets, the country even owed Alcoa more than $100 million for electricity that was produced using its own natural resources.

This debt reached crisis proportions in the 2010s with the spending spree of the Dési Bouterse administration. Private lenders and international financial institutions queued up to make loans, often at high interest, amid the deep crash of global commodity prices. Although Bouterse is currently on the run from a twenty-year sentence for murdering political opponents, the Surinamese people still remain liable for the debts and at the mercy of anyone willing to lend money.

Having said no to the conditions set by the IMF in 2018, the government was forced to borrow from a variety of capital market instruments and multilateral creditors such as the Inter-American Development Bank and the Chinese state, again at high interest rates. After the COVID-19 pandemic hit, Suriname defaulted in November 2020.

States are not able to declare bankruptcy in the way that individuals or companies can. Suriname is considered too wealthy to access the Common Framework, the limited and inadequate process for debt relief and restructuring set up by the G20 in the wake of the pandemic. The result, for Suriname and countries across the Global South, is that precious resources needed for health and education drain away to pay the interest on loans.

When countries default, they have to negotiate with their creditors to reduce their debts. Private creditors receive 46 percent of external debt payments from the Global South and own 38 percent of Suriname’s debts. These actors are not used to taking losses when their risky loans go wrong. Private creditors held out in debt-restructuring negotiations with Suriname for an amazingly sweet deal that amounted to canceling just 2 percent of the debt owed. When interest is taken into account, Debt Justice estimates that bondholders will make profits of 80 percent.

Even worse, the bondholders have laid claim to Suriname’s future oil revenues through a value-recovery instrument. If all goes according to plan, this will line their pockets with a staggering windfall of 30 percent of future oil revenues, up to a total of £689 million. Meanwhile, Suriname will continue to spend 27 percent of its government revenues on external debt payments over the next five years.

In order to safeguard this windfall, the agreement with the bondholders is dependent on Suriname changing the legislation of its sovereign wealth fund by December 2024. Fifty years after Suriname’s official independence from the Netherlands, foreign bodies are once again dictating how Suriname uses its resources and what legislation it should pass. This is the new form of colonialism, using debt to gain access to resources.
Debt-Fueled Austerity

The result, for the people of Suriname, is austerity. The IMF demanded savage cuts, based on a flawed methodology that prioritizes capital flows over human rights and the sustainability of life.

These cuts have had a deep impact on people’s lives, plunging the country into political, economic, and social chaos, with strikes and uprisings. Health care has collapsed, medicines are scarce, and operating rooms are empty for lack of materials and qualified personnel. Essential workers such as teachers and health care workers have left the country in droves, poached by institutions in the Netherlands, the former colonizer.

These austerity policies have had a particularly harsh impact on Surinamese women and LGBTQ people, who must pick up the burden of care as the state withdraws. Such feminized care work, disavowed and unpaid, has always been an essential precondition for capitalist profits, even though it is ignored in economic models or deemed “unproductive” in contrast with “productive” paid labor. Debt crises bring this to the fore, as carers have to find money to pay for privatized health services, the skyrocketing prices of essentials, or taxis for children to attend school after school buses and wider networks of public transport have been cut.

Susan Doorson of Women’s Way Foundation highlights the situation of LGBTQ women who face the prospect of going into debt to pay for mental and sexual health services: “How many people in Suriname die because they don’t have access to services? They have to think, am I going to feed the family today or am I going to get this checked out?”

Historic neglect of rural indigenous areas means that health care services are concentrated in the capital, Paramaribo, which is a fifteen-hour boat journey from some communities. According to Audrey Christiaan, ambassador of indigenous cultural group Juku Jume Maro, indigenous communities that “don’t have the luxury of public transport” because of spending cuts and lose access to vital services. In the event of a medical emergency, they face the dramatic expense of hiring a plane to bring people for treatment, which in some cases can be too late.

Austerity forces carers to work longer hours, in more precarious conditions, for lower salaries. Women are disproportionately employed in the public services that face redundancies due to IMF demands to balance the books. The informal sector jobs in which women and LGBTQ people often work also shrink as people cut back on discretionary spending. Inflation in Suriname has meant an 11 percent reduction in purchasing power over the space of a year.

As a result, carers are less able than ever to bear the sudden costs that fall upon them and have to go into debt themselves, as the cycle of debt moves from the state to the household level. At the same time, they have less and less time and resources to provide the unpaid care that service cuts increasingly load onto them, and that society depends on.

A Global Phenomenon

This scenario is not confined to countries like Suriname. We have also seen it play out for communities in the Global North, especially since the 2008 crash, as the governments of rich countries inflict austerity policies with similar narratives to justify them. The crisis of care is now a global phenomenon. As Nancy Fraser has argued, by pushing the unpaid carers on which it depends to the edge of survival while destroying the natural environment it pillages for free resources, global financial capitalism is increasingly cannibalizing the conditions of its own profiteering.

Debt-driven austerity is destabilizing countries across the world. In Suriname, unprecedented protests filled the main square of Paramaribo. But they had limited impact: the Surinamese government has little power in an unfair global system, and it has continued to implement the diktats of creditors and the IMF, despite their deep domestic unpopularity.

As Lucí Cavallero and Verónica Gago have explained, drawing on the experiences of the Ni Una Menos feminist movement in Argentina, debt-driven exploitation enforces obedience at the same time as it generates profits. In contrast to the expense of maintaining a colonial army, debt generates profits even as it controls and coerces.

The same tool that drains resources from communities simultaneously works to make that process of extraction invisible, individual, and shameful, in stark contrast to the collective exploitation of workers on the factory floor. Whereas unionized workers have strength in numbers for their collective struggle against identifiable exploitative employers, the individual stands alone with their debts before the invisible ranks of banks and creditors, while society tells them that it is their own fault.

States also stand alone against their creditors and the IMF, fearing the judgments of credit-rating agencies and stigmatized by a moralizing narrative that debts are the result of irresponsible borrowing, wastefulness, and corruption. When Burkina Faso’s president Thomas Sankara attempted to organize African states to stand in solidarity against neocolonial debt, he was swiftly deposed in a coup and murdered, allegedly with the support of the French state.

A Feminist Issue

We need a feminist perspective to understand and resist the new wave of debt-based expropriation. Feminism has always worked to make the private sphere politically visible and to build forms of collective solidarity against individualized stigma and exploitation. Financialized capitalism is enveloped in mystification: its workings seem opaque even to specialists, and incomprehensible to the people at the sharp end. Movements like Ni Una Menos have focused on demystifying this process, taking debt “out of the closet” and “challenging its power to shame,” in Cavallero and Gago’s powerful words.

We need an internationalist feminism of the 99 percent that can make connections between the impact of the debt and care crises on communities, women, and LGBTQ people in the Global South and North alike. The overlapping crises we face — debt, climate, and care — can only be addressed through international coordination by governments held accountable to and by their people.

Protests against austerity and irresponsible borrowing in the Global South must be combined with demands for solidarity and justice in the Global North. Examples include new laws in the UK and New York that would prevent private creditors from using the courts to demand payment in full from countries in default.

2025 will be a jubilee year, part of a long tradition of periodic debt amnesties that led to large-scale debt cancelation following the global Jubilee 2000 campaign. Twenty-five years on, we need internationalist feminist solidarity to drive the wave of civil society mobilizations that are demanding debt cancellation and a just international debt system.


Sharda Ganga  is the director of Projekta Suriname, a civil society organization focusing on the interlinkage between human rights, democracy, and governance, with a specific focus on women's rights and gender equality. She is also a playwright and newspaper columnist.


Chickens Are Smarter Than You Think



 November 18, 2024
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Hæn-fugul (hen), Book of Hours; England, c. 1300; Walters Art Museum, MS W.102, f. 77v.

People think they know lots about chickens, and you’d think they would: There are four living chickens for every living person in the world—and since chickens are domestic fowl (a separate subspecies from their wild ancestor, the red jungle fowl of Southeast Asia), all of them live among humans.

Still, chickens are rarely celebrated in our culture and seldom given the respect they deserve. I once sat next to a man on an airplane who detailed for me at length the attributes of the species: they are stupid, disgusting, filthy, cowardly, occasionally cannibalistic automatons, he said.

How had he acquired this opinion? It turned out he had worked at a factory farmwhere most chickens are raised for food in the United States in a dirty, overcrowded warehouse resembling a prison camp.

This is not the best place to get to know someone. Nor is a dinner plate. Yet, for most of us, our relationship with chickens is generally of a culinary nature. In fact, the first definition of the word “chicken” I encountered on the internet doesn’t even mention that it’s a bird. It’s “the flesh of a chicken used for food.”

According to the National Chicken Council, the average American eats more than one hundred pounds of chicken every year, making it the most popular meat consumed in the United States. Worldwide, some 70 billion birds yearly are roasted, boiled, Kentucky Fried, and turned into everything from McNuggets to the famous “Jewish penicillin,” chicken soup.

Over the decades of sharing my life with successive flocks of these affectionate, industrious, and resourceful birds, I’ve learned that almost everything people “know” about chickens is wrong.

At the Agway feed store, my friend Gretchen ordered 12 chicks of the same breed she’d first owned—Black Sex-Links—for my husband Howard and me. They are so named because the females can be identified upon hatching by their all-black color, averting the problem of raising a coop full of jealous roosters. She hand-raised them in a heated trailer on the farm.

Howard and I often visited them there, holding one or two peeping chicks in our hands, on our laps, or tucked into our sweaters, speaking softly to each so she would know us. When they were old enough—no longer balls of fluff but sleek, slim black miniatures of their eventual adult selves—they moved into our barn. Our travels in the Chicken Universe had begun.

At first, I was afraid they’d run away or become lost. We prepared a cozy, secure home for them on the bottom floor of our barn, with wood shavings scattered over the dirt floor, a dispenser for fresh water, a trough for chick feed, some low perches made from dowels, and a hay-lined nest box made from an old rabbit hutch left over from one of the barn’s previous denizens, in which they could, in the future, lay eggs.

Chickens need to be safely closed in at night to protect them from predators, but by day, we didn’t want to confine them; we wanted to give them free run of the yard. But how could they possibly understand that they lived here now?

Once we let them out, would they even recognize their space in the barn and go back in it? When I was in seventh grade, my family moved to a new house; on my first afternoon there, I literally got lost in my own backyard. Could these six-week-old chicks be expected to know better?

Gretchen assured me there would be no problem.

“Leave them in the pen for 24 hours,” she told me. “Then you can let them out, and they’ll stick around.

They’ll go back in again when it starts to get dark.”

“But how do they know?” I asked.

“They just do,” she said. “Chickens just know these things.”

When I found them all perched calmly back in their coop before dusk, I saw that Gretchen was right.

In fact, chickens know many things, some from the moment they are born. Like all members of the order in which they are classified, the Galliformes, or game birds, just-hatched baby chickens are astonishingly mature and mobile, able to walk, peck, and run only hours after leaving the egg.

This developmental strategy is called precocial. Like its opposite, the altricial strategy (employed by creatures such as humans and songbirds, who are born naked and helpless), the precocial strategy was sculpted by eons of adaptation to food and predators. If your nest is on the ground, as most game birds’ are, it’s a good idea to get your babies out of there as quickly as possible before someone comes to eat them. So newborn game birds hatch covered in down, eyes open, and leave the nest within 24 hours.

They followed me everywhere, first cheeping like the tinkling of little bells, then clucking in animated adult discussion. If I were hanging out the laundry, they would check what was in the laundry basket. If I were weeding a flower bed, they would join me, raking the soil with their strong, scaly feet, then stepping backward to see what was revealed. (Whenever I worked with soil, I suspect they assumed I was digging for worms.)

When Howard and I would eat at the picnic table under the big silver maple, the Ladies would accompany us. When my father-in-law came to help my husband build a pen for Christopher Hogwood, who was still a piglet, the Ladies milled underfoot to supervise every move. The hens were clearly interested in the project, pecking at the shiny nails, standing tall to better observe the use of tools, and clucking a running commentary all the while.

Before this experience, Howard’s dad would have been the first to say that he didn’t think chickens were that smart. But they changed his mind. After a few hours, I noticed he had begun addressing them. Picking up a hammer they were examining, he might say, directly and respectfully, “Pardon me, Ladies”—as if he were speaking to my mother-in-law and me when we got in the way. But when their human friends are inside, and this is much of the time, the Ladies explore on their own.

A chicken can move as fast as nine miles an hour, which can take you pretty far, and ours have always been free to go anywhere they like. But ours have intuited our property lines and confine their travels to its boundaries. They have never crossed the street. For years, they never hopped across the low stone wall separating our land from our closest neighbors. That came later—and it was not the result of any physical change in the landscape but the outcome of a change in social relationships among their human friends.

My travels in the Chicken Universe have been a portal to an unknown kingdom. We all see birds daily, and chickens are among the most familiar birds. Yet again and again, as I watch the hens and roosters in my life, I am reminded how movingly like us birds can be—and how thrillingly different.

This adapted excerpt is from What the Chicken Knows by Sy Montgomery (Atria Books, 2024) and is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) with permission from Atria Books. It was adapted and produced for the web by Earth | Food | Life, a project of the Independent Media Institute.

Sy Montgomery is the author of Birdology (2010) and  The Hawk’s Way (2022).