Never Play Poker With a Pig Farmer

What puzzles me is why we keep thinking people who have obviously made up their minds to disregard rational arguments will be swayed on any given question of morality if we can somehow manage to present them with the proper rational argument.

For example, if someone says that finding bacteria on Mars would constitute finding “life,” but that finding an embryo attached to the wall of a human uterus would not, I can only conclude that they do not have the capacity for reason, and rational appeals are not an option.

I’m always reminded of the folk-wisdom sawhorse about trying to teach a pig to sing which says, “it’s a waste of your time, and it annoys the pig.” The meaning is plain enough, but I think some of the humor might be missed by anyone who has never had to deal with an annoyed pig. What those people may not know about an annoyed pig is this; it’ll kill you if it gets the chance.

The unknown sage that cast this pearl was using the idiomatic construct of comic understatement found in many “country tough” proverbs. What makes it funny is that, unlike an annoyed person who might need a moment to compose themselves, an annoyed pig is all about revenge. I think the humor gets lost because it’s like telling a shaggy dog story to someone who doesn’t know the difference between a knight and a night (and ironically enough, like reading the last sentence must have been for anyone who doesn’t know what a shaggy dog story is.) I was telling one to my daughter recently when, as I was rounding the corner on the punch line after investing about fifteen minutes in the set up, I realized there was no chance she could be familiar with the twenty year old television commercial on which it was based.

At any rate, I’ll spell it out for the gentry; contrary to what many want to believe about them, pigs only have two emotional states---blissful self-absorption, and blind rage.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying pigs are stupid. Next to man, pigs are perhaps the most intelligent creatures on Earth, but even if you made an airtight case with eighteen points and full citation that actually convinced a pig that wallowing in its own shit is wrong and the pig signed an affidavit acknowledging your position, it would resume the practice before the ink was dry. This attribute is what makes pigs a perfect illustration for yet another favorite old chestnut; “A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.”

The distinction here is that Carnage’s man wasn’t really convinced. Pro-choice advocates and pigs, on the other hand, are more like the citizens of Airstrip One in Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-four who have the ability to simultaneously accept two mutually contradictory beliefs as equally correct. It’s not indifference or hypocrisy; they really and truly believe both things. It’s what makes crazy people crazy, and pigs almost impossible to manage. Historically speaking, efforts to teach either of them anything have met with limited success.

Sure, pigs can be managed, but it must be done in a way that avoids provocation. Farmers used to have to do it all the time before pork became a factory product, but they did it by acknowledging the pig’s assumed sovereignty, and just sort of arranging things to dovetail in with what the pig had obviously already made up its mind to do. This meant that pig farming was an art that required a natural ability to draw conclusions by carefully observing behavior coupled with a talent for creative deception. By the way, that’s also why you never want to play poker with a pig farmer.

I can see how you might think I’m saying that there is nothing we can do to stop our society’s gadarene rush into moral bankruptcy, and maybe in one sense I am, but I’m also saying that when it comes to dealing with it, we could learn a thing or two from pig farmers.