If Bulls Could Speak Spanish

by Pablo Ruiz Delgado

A few years ago, me and my dad were sitting in my uncle’s living room while he watched a bullfght on TV. As my uncle cheered on like a football hooligan, my dad and I were trying our hardest to ignore the live spectacle of torture happening on that screen. As the trumpets and applause drowned out the squealing of the dying bull, my dad turned to me and said: “if bulls could speak Spanish, this shit would have been made illegal a century ago”. But it turns out that the criteria for animals to be worthy of our consideration is not their ability to speak Spanish, but how cute they are.

Just a few weeks ago, the Spanish government passed the ‘Animal Welfare Act’, which in many ways is a massive leap forward. It mandates that pet owners must go through a training program before they can have an animal at home, to ensure that they’ll actually know how to take care of one. In cases of divorce, the custody of pets is now decided on the same grounds as the custody of children – fnancial stability, emotional considerations, etc. – to ensure that the animal will have the best life possible.

The law also provides extensive funds for local and regional authorities to sterilize stray animal populations in order to prevent their growth, as well as to take them into shelters and possibly fnd them a home. The fne for abandoning a pet has been increased from 60€ to 60,000€, and animal abuse and murder are now punishable with up to 12 years in prison. All in all, this law is the frst piece of legislation in the history of the country to lay out comprehensive programs and regulations to promote the wellbeing of animals.

The issue, however, is that this Act cares almost exclusively about cute animals. The text draws explicit exceptions from most of its protections for animals “of special interest”, a category so broad that it includes virtually every animal that isn’t a pet. For example, no protections whatsoever are given to animals killed for food consumption. Farm pigs are kept in cages and gassed to death on a daily basis to produce our beloved Iberian ham, but this law has nothing in it to improve their living conditions or to ensure a painless death.

The law also has nothing to say about the treatment of hunting dogs, who are starved for months so that they’ll chase after prey out of hunger. They’re then abandoned or shot en-masse when hunting season is over (it’s cheaper to get rid of them and buy new ones later than to feed them until the next season). And of course, bullfghting is ‘too political’ and ‘too culturally relevant’ for the Spanish government to do absolutely anything about it. These bulls are drugged to be extra aggressive before being thrown into the ring, then stabbed in the neck with two spears bearing the Spanish fag, and fnally thrown around for half an hour until they bleed out or get a sword through their heart. The Animal Welfare Act considers these animals ‘too important’ for us to care about their sufering. feel. They also sufer. Take responsibility."

What absolutely perplexes me is that the main element of all these posters is either a puppy or a kitten with massive eyes and foppy ears. Are we only meant to take responsibility for the welfare of animals we fnd cute? Is an animal worthy of our mercy only if they keep us company at home? Does an animal suddenly lose its ability to think, feel and sufer the moment we can’t see their pitiful and adorable face? Worse still is that these posters can regularly be seen alongside ads for the weekly bullfght agenda. Truly a masterpiece in cynical irony.

To be clear, no one expected this legislation to ban meat consumption, hunting and bullfghting overnight. But after years of struggle, animal rights protests, and lofty promises by politicians, the result has been so underwhelming that it feels like mockery. The Act is now colloquially known as ‘la ley perrogatista’, or ‘the dog-and-cat law’, because it only seems to care about the welfare of the cute animals that live in our homes. Almost all its legal protections are limited to those animals that already have it easiest, while those who sufer most are tossed aside.

Nothing captures this absurdity better than the awareness campaigns funded by the Act. In my home city, every bus stop and billboard has been plastered with strongly-worded ads to raise awareness about the new law and the importance of animal wellbeing. One ad in particular has the following caption: “They also think. They also

The good news is that there are examples of better legislation that Spain (and basically every country) can learn from. In the United Kingdom, the similarly-named Animal Welfare Act of 2022, also known as the Sentience Act, recognizes the sentience – that is, the ability to feel – of all animals, which by extent has endowed them with some amount of legal personhood and certain inalienable rights. Though this Act also has many shortcomings, its approach can ensure that no animal is arbitrarily disqualifed from our consideration, and it sets a precedent of equality between humans and animals on which to build moving forward.

If bulls could speak Spanish, perhaps I could wake up tomorrow with a serious piece of legislation in place to stop the sadistic traditions that my country holds so dear. But for the time being, pigs, bulls and hunting dogs will have to rely on the will of the average Spaniard – people like my uncle – who cheer on animal cruelty as if it were a football game.