This year the killing had to end early.¹ Unusually warm temperatures caused a vast expanse of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which is normally covered with miles of ice floes in late February through March, to remain open sea. Migrating pregnant harp seals were forced to abort in the water instead of giving birth on the sea ice, which then becomes the pups’ nursery. Thousands of newborn seals drowned.² The climate change, combined with the European Union’s recently voted ban on seal products³ and the international boycott of Canadian seafood backed by a host of humane organizations⁴ ,⁵ have caused the 2010 seal hunt to be what one sealer called a “disaster.”¹ The single fur processor that didn’t shut down for this season’s kill promised to buy less than 15,000 pelts, and the price, though up from last year,¹ was only a fraction of what it was just four years ago.⁶ Fewer than 50 sealing boats out of the usual 500 set out from Newfoundland, and the one ship launched from the Magdalen Islands admits to throwing pelts back into the water. Most of Canada’s 6,000 sealers did not participate in this year’s hunt, and the number of seals killed was less than 15 percent of the current quota set by the Canadian government.¹

That quota was increased by 50,000 over last year,⁷ to a whopping 330,000, one of the highest total allowable catches in half a century,⁸ even as the existence of the harp seal as a species is being threatened.⁹ One has to wonder if Canada’s Department of Fisheries and Oceans is thumbing its nose at the growing worldwide condemnation of the hunt. One also has to wonder why the Canadian Parliament won’t even allow debate on ending the slaughter. Once again, Senator Mac Harb has introduced a bill to put an end to the commercial seal hunt, and even though it was seconded on principle, if not support for the issue, the Senate has refused debate. Harb, despite his well-respected career in politics, has become a pariah within his own ranks.¹⁰

As events stack up making evident the absurdity of continuing the commercial seal hunt, the Canadian government remains steadfast in its commitment to keep it going, attempting to open up new markets for sealskins in Asia, promoting the sale of seal meat at home¹ despite reports of contamination,¹¹ and challenging the EU ban at the World Trade Organization.¹ Baby seals are regularly hooked in the eye¹² to prevent damage to the coat and dragged across the ice while still conscious, as well as skinned alive.^{13 14} Is this what Canada wants to be known for as its source of unity and pride?

1. Canada’s seal hunt to close early after low harvest, Yahoo News, Michel Compte, April 15, 2010.
2. Melting Out from Under Them, Humane Society International/Canada, Rebecca Aldworth, March 10, 2010.
3. MEPs adopt strict conditions for the placing on the market of seal products in the European Union, European Union Press Release, May 5, 2009.
4. Canadian Seafood Boycott: The Most Potent Strategy to End the Annual Seal Hunt in Canada, Harpseals.org.
5. Canadian Commercial Seal Hunt and the Canadian Seafood Boycott, AnimalAlliance.ca.
6. CBC News — FAQs: The Atlantic Seal Hunt.
7. 2010 Seal Hunt Opens, Humane Society International/Canada, March 29, 2010.
8. Canadian Government Raises Kill Quota for Harp Seal Pups Despite Severe Lack of Ice Habitat, PR Newswire-US Newswire, March 15, 2010.
9. Harp Seals May Be Extinct in Two Decades, Sea Shepherd News, October 29, 2006.
10. Anything’s debatable – except the seal hunt, Times Colonist, Elizabeth Payne, April 4, 2010.
11. Trace Metals and Methyl Mercury: Associations and Transfer in Harp Seal (Phoca Groenlandica) Mothers and Their Pups, R. Wagemann, R. E. A. Stewart, W. L. Lockhart, B. E. Stewart, M. Povoledo.
12. Society for the Advancement of Animal Wellbeing: The Harp Seal Hunt.
13. Veterinary Report: Canadian Commercial Seal Hunt, Prince Edward Island, March 2001.
14. Seal Hunt 2010: Closing Time, A “Live from the Ice” dispatch from Rebecca Aldworth, director of Humane Society International/Canada, April 13, 2010.

Suddenly, the reality and immensity of animals’ suffering at the hands of humans came crashing into my consciousness as forcefully as the floods of New Orleans. I couldn’t sleep at night thinking about factory farms, leg-hold traps, puppy mills – the list was endless. If you let your empathy neurons work overtime, you can become paralyzed with grief. To prevent going totally insane, as the budding animal rights activist in the film Year of the Dog briefly did, I decided to focus on the Canadian harp seal hunt. Conducted by a small group of fishermen in a limited geographic area, the hunt seemed like something that could, possibly, be stopped.

Many knew of the seal hunt from past decades, but too few realized that it was still going on. Pouring over my copy of Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point like a law student studying for the Bar exam, I set out to distribute flyers from coast to coast. Once the facts were out, little ripples of interest would surely grow into great waves of indignation and, as Abe Lincoln said, “Public sentiment is everything.” Putting my fledgling copywriting and design skills to use, and with an enthusiasm reserved only for the naïve and uninitiated, I embarked on my plan.

The flyers were actually glossy cards, and I felt virtuous lugging the heavy box home from the printer through the quirky streets west of the Flatiron building. A humane organization’s website provided me with a list of demonstration leaders, and I sent out emails en masse. “Hello Activists!” Pressing the send button was akin to jumping out of a plane. There was no turning back.

Armed with stacks of my newly minted creation, I also hit the sidewalks of Manhattan, and approached everyone – big aloof muscular guys, preoccupied businessmen, elderly ladies in hats and jewelry clinging arm in arm, giggling teenagers. Some praised me and some cursed me. One young woman called me a liar. Another, flyer in hand, walked away looking stunned and wounded. I dismissed hurtful remarks and damaged psyches alike, secure in the worthiness of my purpose.

Meanwhile, requests for flyers started popping up on my computer screen from southern California, Albuquerque, Omaha, Austin, a small town in Georgia, Boston. “So this is how it feels to be subversive,” I thought on my way to the Post Office. Tipping point! One activist from across the country kept asking for more flyers. Every day I received her emails on the latest developments to end the killing of baby seals. When she wrote “their little souls in heaven are thanking you,” it was as if she could see a part of my soul. Sue kept me going.

My “audience” did too, regardless of the occasional rebuff, and many passersby stopped to engage me. I discussed whale hunting with an Australian man at a street fair in Chelsea, a young anarchist from Central America shook my hand in Times Square, a musician singing John Lennon songs came over to chat at the Imagine Circle in Central Park. The encounters were thrilling though, strangely, I also had the vague sense of being an impostor. Despite the authenticity of my mission, the role of activist seemed to make me both more and less myself. I loved the role. It allowed me to be fearless. Yet it also set me uncomfortably apart.

Recently, I witnessed a man walking his dog across a busy intersection. He tightened the leash to a chokehold, and the dog started yelping. Pandemonium ensued. Pedestrians called out in protest from all four corners. A head emerged out of the side window of a large truck stopped at the offending scene. “You leave that dog alone!” shouted the driver.

Most of us do care about animals when confronted with individual cases of cruelty. The key lies in translating that outrage into action on a larger scale. To do this the abstract must be made tangible and real. That’s where the resistance lies. Two years and four flyer designs later the annual seal hunt continues. I haven’t given up, and I am heartened by observing hundreds of people reading the flyer. Turn it over and you see the devastating numbers of baby seals that have been slaughtered – but on the cover is a picture of just one.