Kalbi, the prized and pampered pig who rose to internet fame for both cuteness and the looming threat of being eaten after 100 days, is in fact perfectly well. The video apparently showing him being butchered and eaten — which received three million views in only a week — was “a work of fiction”, and videos of Kalbi past the 100 day mark have since been released. The pig can continue the comfortable lifestyle that many people would normally assume of a dog or cat, a revelation that came as a relief to thousands of fans around the world. But the fact remains: a pig was eaten in that 100-day-mark viral video. Why does the anonymity of that pig make a difference? And when it’s clear we can love pigs as pets, why are millions killed for meat every day?

In this case, a traditionally “livestock” categorized animal was elevated to pet status — but what if we consider the reverse? How would the public react to, say, a dog kept in a cage so small she cannot turn around? Her puppies are kept just close enough to feed, but violently killed if they start to show signs of illness. Her tail has been cut off to avoid the dog behind her chewing it off in distress. She was bred as a machine for meat production, nothing more. 

Obviously, most people would be horrified by this image, and indeed there are laws in many countries against treating dogs in this way. In recent years there has been huge opposition to South Korea’s dwindling consumption of dog meat, and it was ruled illegal to kill a dog for meat here in June 2018. Unfortunately, though, the above scenario is a horrifying reality for the millions upon millions of pigs raised on factory farms each year. Animal cruelty laws don’t apply. Where is the mass outrage for them?

In fact, pigs are believed to be the most intelligent domesticated animal, even above dogs. They outperform human 3-year-olds on cognition tests, and are widely regarded as capable of complex emotions including happiness, fear, and even optimism or pessimism. But, because our society has deemed them delicious, they are only rarely pets, instead relegated to the category of livestock. Many people view the suffering of pigs, cows, and other livestock as a necessary evil to satisfy the cravings for meat, or rather, they would prefer to just not think about it, for fear of being put off their food.

A 2018 US survey on attitudes towards animal rights found that 75% of respondents identified themselves as an “animal lover,” but only 6% followed a vegetarian or vegan diet. If you claim to truly love animals, it seems clear that you should not contribute to their mass abuse and murder — but many people do both at once. The realization of this hypocrisy creates cognitive dissonance — the mental discomfort that arises from holding two opposing views concurrently. This is exactly the feeling that Kalbi’s owner has created in his millions of viewers. He has disrupted the separation of pets and livestock that is maintained by the meat-eating — carnist — ideology, forcing viewers to confront their own beliefs. He has shown that pigs can be loved and cherished just as much as dogs, and proven that society’s view on livestock animals is hypocritical. But he couldn’t quite take the final step — an anonymous pig was eaten, not Kalbi. Maybe he had grown too attached, or maybe that was part of the plan all along. In the end, perhaps the life of that pig has the most poignant message of all; it could have been him the viewers grew to love, or any of the millions of other pigs killed every day. And Kalbi is not a one-of-a-kind, but a representative for all of them.

Our society is trapped in an all-too-familiar mantra: All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others. We obfuscate and doublethink to avoid feeling uncomfortable about the inequality and inconsistency of our actions towards animals — campaigning to save one while fattening the other up for slaughter. It’s time to change, to become real animal lovers.