Battery chickens

Xiaoying asks:

Please explain “crime heavy”, “There’s not much not to like” and, above all, “battery chickens” in the following passages (This is from your column 2008-03-04 about Faint Praise).

City University head of journalism and former ITV news staffer Adrian Monck gives “an old fashioned critique of an old fashioned show”, saying that the story balance was too crime heavy and the one thing missing was a sense of humour.

“There’s not much not to like here - which isn’t to damn with faint praise, but simply to point out that with news viewers the less you can do to drive them away, the more will stay. But like battery chickens, the odd surprise is good for them.”

My comments:

The first two questions are straightforward.

“Crime heavy” means there are too many stories about crimes in the ITV news show, heavy suggesting that it outweighs other sects of the program and therefore creates an imbalance. If, for instance, the half-hour show devotes 12 minutes of it to crime stories, it is crime heavy.

Our 7pm news show, on the other hand, is leaders-meeting-other-leaders heavy, especially during the first half of the program. The first several minutes, for example, are invariably consumed by a top leader meeting someone else – and you are left wishing, of course, that they, today, somehow, might conjure up something interesting to say.

“There’s not much not to like” is simply another way of saying “there’s much to like”. “Not much not to like” = much to like, as “Not” and “not” cancel each other out.

Now battery chickens. This is an industry jargon meaning chickens are raised in the same way and en masse.

Battery refers not the AA batteries you insert in your digital camera to give it electricity but suggests many of the same things. A battery of soldiers, for example, refers to a group of soldiers wearing the same uniform.

For another example, you’ve raised three questions from reading one article, that’s a battery of questions right there.

Anyways, battery chickens are raised in the small cages you see in any modern chicken farm. The cages are indeed called battery cages because they are of the same small uniform size, so small that the chickens within can barely shift round. Indeed this style of farming is called battery farming aimed at making most efficient use of limited space to ensure the greatest profit margins.

Profit margins, of all things.

Now, the interesting part, which you didn’t ask but you could have. “Like battery chickens, the odd surprise is good for them.” What does that mean?

It means change is good. If you lead a monotonous prison life such as that of the battery chickens, you’d love a change of scene any time. Or if you are a prisoner, political or criminal, you would love to step outside the cell, walk in the yard just for an occasional breath of fresh air.

My apologies, by the way, for comparing the battery chickens to human prisoners. My apologies are to the chickens, of course. Human prisoners when they’re jailed can usually be faulted for some wrongdoing. Even political prisoners have faults, too, at the very least for not having known better. But the chickens are innocent through and through and their small cages speak volumes about capitalism and human greed in general.

Sorry for straying. Here is BBC story on battery hens:

Whilst the Chicken Run chooks dug, catapulted and eventually flew to their freedom, battery chickens across the South West are being liberated by one woman determined to see them end their days in freedom.

When Jane Howorth and her husband relocated to Devon they planned to make the most of the outdoors by keeping a handful of chickens.

But what began as a hobby, rapidly turned into a mission - a rescue mission.

“I went to a battery farm intending to get a dozen,” explains Jane. “I was so appalled by the conditions, I came home with three times the amount.”

Overnight Jane became a campaigner for chicken welfare and her house became home for hundreds of battery hens.

Inside Out joins Jane, her husband and a team of volunteers as they prepare for their biggest challenge yet - the re-homing of 1,600 battery hens.

Twenty-four million chickens are currently battery farmed in Britain ensuring the low prices of eggs and chicken products.

In small cages not large enough to turn around, thousands of chickens endure the monotony of life spent eating and laying.

Once past their laying prime - the abattoir awaits.

Whilst it is easy to lay the blame with the farmers, Jane insists that they ‘are only supplying a demand for cheap eggs’.

“At one end it’s the politicians who regulate the system,” explains Jane. “At the other end of the scale, it’s actually the consumer who purchases the products.”

Jane always works with the full co-operation of the farmer and in her latest rescue it is the farmer’s retirement that paves the chickens’ way to freedom.

Whilst the chickens’ escape may not be as dramatic as their feathered counterparts in the animated film Chicken Run (no catapults to be found here), the result is every bit as satisfying.

“I have a tremendous sense of relief that I’m taking them out,” enthuses Jane.

“All it does is remind me why I do what I do.”

For the 1,600 hens, this is their first taste of the outdoors - not surprisingly, open space is a little daunting for them.

Most have forgotten how to walk and need a helping hand from Jane.

Mobility is further limited by their long nails.

Living on wire mesh flooring, there is no solid surface to naturally grind the chickens’ nails down. For some hens, their nails are so long, their feet are distorted, so one of Jane’s first jobs is nail clipping.

Sick hens are taken to Jane’s make-shift hospital wing for some much needed care and attention.

Once restored to full health and acclimatised to their free range surroundings, all 1,600 chickens find new and permanent homes.

The chickens will live out their days ranging free with several more laying years ahead of them.

- Real Life Chicken Run, BBC.co.uk, September 6, 2004.

About the author:

Zhang Xin is Trainer at chinadaily.com.cn. He has been with China Daily since 1988, when he graduated from Beijing Foreign Studies University. Write him at: zhangxin@chinadaily.com.cn, or raise a question for potential use in a future column.