"Opinionatedly Yours"
#13: June 4, 1998
The Fur Industry: Time to Trim Its Sales
By Barry Kent MacKay

Statistically Speaking ...

Statistics have always been my downfall. I don't deal well with numbers of any kind. But you don't have to be a statistician to see that no matter how brave a front the fur industry puts on it, sales are down overall. The industry is hurting, big time. That means a lot of animals who would otherwise suffer in traps or in cages no longer do so.

However, there are no grounds for complacency. First, we must remember the millions of animals who still suffer the cruelty imposed upon them by the fur industry. And second, we must be aware that the fur industry itself is fighting back, trying to gain market share by finding new markets and new ways to sell fur to the public.

According to the March 1998 issue of Fur World, in United States, "Retail fur sales in calendar 1997, which held great promise at the start of the fall season, weakened badly as the winter months progressed and ended the year virtually unchanged from 1996. According to a survey by the Fur Information Council of America, last year's store sales inched up to $1.27 billion, a mere 1.6% ahead of 1996."

Those findings, the article claims, were based on a survey done for the Council by Southwick Associates. But even Fur World seems to question the validity of the survey, noting that "mink skin prices at world auction softened in 1997 and wholesale imports which dominate the American market, were down significantly. The U.S. Commerce Department just last week reported that the value of imported mink coats in 1997 was down 13.8%."

Southwick defended its conclusion that fur sales were marginally higher in 1997 than the previous year on the grounds "more retailers said prices last year were higher than the number of stores reporting lower prices."

Whatever the answer, Fur World is not happy. "Many trade observers," it reports in the same article, "maintain the fur trade is in a rut on a number of fronts. Because of it, the consumer isn't breaking down any doors to buy a new fur, even if they have more money than usual because of a burgeoning economy."

Whether or not there was a tiny increase in U.S. fur sales last year, the article contains a sentence that is crucial to understanding why the market has not collapsed even further; or why modest gains from record lows are more or less being claimed: "One of fur's problems, say trade veterans, is that no major fashion change has occurred that would make women want to buy. While more designers are indeed dealing with fur, most of the newcomers are involved with fur trims and are not immersed in creating new styles for all-fur garments that would make old fur styles obsolete."

Earlier, in its February 1998 issue, Fur World said of the fur market in New York City, "A spot check of New York vendors showed that those dealing in fur trims and outerwear in general fared better than their all-fur counterparts."

A pattern is starting to emerge here. Let's move still further ahead, to Fur World's issue of January 26, 1998. An article entitled "Innovation Key to Continued Fur Growth" begins: "New York: - 'A real change is happening. It began with fur trim and it has come back into our lives cuff by cuff,' quipped Holly Bruback, style editor of The New York Times magazine. As protesters gathered outside, the story of fur's resurgence unfolded inside from a panel of fashion heavyweights at an unusual seminar sponsored by the Fashion Group."

While the articles that would come later would display quaint ignorance of why there had been a decline in fur sales, at least this one paid grudging homage to anti-fur activists. "It was pointed out," says Fur World, discussing the seminar, "that fur, long heralded as a status symbol, took a beating in the 1980s when lifestyles changed and animal rights forced some furs into the closet. Brubach, however, said that 'the moral issue has been tabled.' It was the consensus of the group that business is back and women will never again be told what to wear."

Apparently what is really meant is that women won't be told what to wear by those of us with compassion for animals ... certainly the fur industry has not exactly displayed any reluctance to promote sale of fur.

Although I may not like statistics, let me throw at least a few at you, to better put into perspective what is being said. According to the USDA National Agricultural Statistics Service, in 1989, U.S. fur "farms" produced no less that 4.6 million mink pelts. In 1993 and again in 1994, the number of mink pelts was 2.53 million for each of those two years. In 1995 it was 2.69, and in 1996, it had fallen very slightly to 2.65 million. Between 1975 and 1991 the number produced was always above 3 million, but has not climbed that high since. During the same time frame there was a high of 1,098 mink "farms" in the U.S. in 1983, the highest number during the period under consideration, and only 415 in 1996, the lowest.

Notwithstanding that there are other variables, it can safely be said that domestic mink production did fall off in the U.S., as the fur industry reluctantly admits, amidst a mixed message of gloom and optimism. And yes, I'm sure that warmer weather and confusion about pricing policies have all contributed to the overall situation, as has been claimed by fur industry apologists reluctant to attribute any success to the animal protection movement in lowering fur sales.

But while cold weather may return (or may not, if fears of global warming are well founded) fur is still a fashion, and the fates of animals depend on the whims of that fashion.

Mary ...

Mary is not her real name. She is in her late thirties. She is a neighbor of mine. Mary is happily married and has two children and several companion animals. She is a schoolteacher. Like me, Mary lives in suburbia. Her husband runs a family business. Mary eats meat and wears leather and thinks that animal rights advocates are "too extreme." Mary is a nice person and typical of a great many people I know.

And Mary has told me many times that she would never want to buy, own, or wear a fur coat.

I think there are a lot of people like Mary. Because she knows me and used to do some filing for me on a part-time basis, Mary's been exposed to more "animal rights" literature than the average person. When she sees some of the photos in my files of animals being abused, she is not indifferent; it bothers her. Mary has probably reduced her meat consumption since meeting me, and would avoid white veal. Her beloved canine companion is from the pound and has been neutered because Mary has no desire to contribute to the sad problem of pet overpopulation. Mary's two girls love to play with my dog, Laura, and I enjoy having them do so as all three have the energy I fear I lack, and it's good to see and hear them have fun.

Mary often tells me how she can't stand the idea of people wearing fur coats. On cold winter days Mary wears a non-fur parka, as do most folks where I live, here in Canada. And like most of those parkas, Mary's has fur trim.

It is just a sliver of fur around the outside of the hood. It does not contribute to the warmth of the hood. I live in southern Canada where the temperatures don't get as cold as they do in the north, where parkas have massive fur trim that at least serves a function, breaking the wind and helping to provide insulation. I don't mean to justify the use of fur; studies show that synthetic materials do an equal or better job of keeping wearers warm. But such functionality is clearly not the an issue with Mary's coat, nor does it look particularly fashionable, to me. Fashion is subjective and I'm biased by my deep concern for the animal whose suffering ... whose life ... was the cost of that little bit of ratty-looking fur.

And what kind of fur is it?

I don't know.

There is no fur-bearing mammal in Canada whose fur I have not seen and felt. I am a wildlife artist and I have done a lot of wild animal rescue and rehabilitation. I've examined many skins of many mammals, and the mammals themselves, in the hand, dead or alive, so it is not just a case of my failing to recognize the fur, it's a case of the fur having been cut and altered from its more natural appearance to the point that it is unrecognizable.

In fact, I had to carefully feel the fur and check it while wearing my reading glasses to assure myself that it was not synthetic.

I finally asked Mary and she shrugged and said, "Do you think it's real? I don't know. Never thought about it." She was a bit perturbed. I had no desire to embarrass her so we just dropped the subject, although I suspect the next outerwear garment Mary buys she will doublecheck that it has no fur, or that, if it does, that the fur is synthetic.

Mary may not share my intensity of concern for animals, but she shares my concern, and while she believes she must have meat in her diet, while she can accept leather as a byproduct of what she considers a necessary product; she knows she does not "need" fur and that fur is virtually the exclusive reason behind the torment and death of animals. And Mary likes animals.

And Other Folks ...

I don't want to extrapolate too far from one person. I could have chosen other examples, but the point I want to make is that the fur industry's response to the success of the so-called "animal rights" movement in convincing people of compassion that fur coats derive from much cruelty is to sell their products to people like Mary. To the degree that they have succeeded it could be argued that Mary is typical of a large part of the market. She would not buy a fur coat. She would not buy one of those stoles made of fur that still had the heads and paws attached. She would not buy a product that she does not need if she thought that in doing so she was contributing to abuse of animals.

There are more and more people like Mary, influenced by compassion for animals.

Well Hello, Louis ...

Consider, instead of Mary, the attitude of designer Louis Dell'Olio, as quoted in the February 1998 issue of Fur Age: "There are no barriers now. Basically I am a sportswear designer, and now there is sportswear that can look luxurious and furs that can be deconstructed to be less luxurious. It depends on the designer's point of view. I just think of fur as another expression, another material."

Let's take a close look at that quote, starting with the last sentence. Whatever Dell'Olio might think and however well he might be able to ignore the plight of an animal used in fur production, that plight is very real. I do not expect everyone on earth to share my own values; I am not so egotistically arrogant as to think that my values are all that matters. But I would like to think that most people would share my feeling of sorrow at seeing how animals suffer in the production of fur. I would like to think that Dell'Olio would never take a great horned owl, not even a fur-bearing animal, and crush her foot, causing her such agony that she was showing manifestations of what might best be called insanity.

At the end of this I will tell you about that owl, if you are interested, but for now let me say that if Dell'Olio is indifferent to such brutal cruelty, then he is cruel in a way that I hope and believe most of his potential customers are not. That is the theory that I cling to, and it is one that is borne out by declines in fur sales coincident, at least in part, to the animal protection movement's campaign against furs.

And what did Louis Dell'Olio mean when he said that there are "furs that can be deconstructed to be less luxurious"?

Obviously "luxury" here is a pretty subjective term. If some, perhaps most, people can be convinced that there is status associated with a product, they are willing to pay more for it, if they can afford to do so, thus increasing its profit margin to the producer. The larger the profit margin the greater the return per unit sold. The "luxuriousness" of the product depends not only on such aspects as craftsmanship and quality, but on it being something that not everyone can afford. Thus ownership conveys a sense of greater "worth" to the consumer. The "luxury" becomes not something needed, but something that by its luxuriousness, demonstrates wealth greater than had by many. To the degree that wealth is a very real and literal measure of one's worth in a highly materialistic and consuming society, a luxury is valued for its luxuriousness.

But if something no longer has such subjective value, there is decreased incentive to obtain it. I am willing to concede that there may be many other factors working on the decrease in sales of fur coats, but I believe that a significant one, the most significant one, is the success animal protectionists have had in making people associate this "luxury" with abuse of animals.

But if the relatively wealthy are less enamored of furs -- their luxury status now fully stained by the blood of their victims -- there is another road to profits: the mass market. Furs can be "deconstructed," which is to say their origins as parts of living, feeling animals can be de-emphasized, or hidden altogether. Furs need not look like furs. They can be and are being used as inconspicuous bits of trim. They are dyed bizarre colors never found in nature, sheared and cut or woven as just "another expression, another material."

And that is what actually is happening. Furs are being sneaked in the back door. People who don't worry about animal suffering, or who do, but not enough to prevent them rationalizing the use of furs, can wear them in ways that do not imply the degree of indifference that a fur coat does.

Remember the anti-fur ads that told how many animals died to wear this or that kind of fur coat ... well now it's just parts of animals ... a headband here, some interior lining there, maybe a touch of fluorescent-red highlight or accessory.

Many consumers, like Mary, are no doubt not really aware of the fur on some outer garments they buy. The use of furs bothers Mary, so with people like her the trick, now being played by the fur industry, is to disguise or minimize that use and to limit choice by making furs so affordable and so available that they become ubiquitous. Part of the strategy is wining and dining both established and young designers to encourage such a dramatic change in how fur is used in fashion.

But in spite of the fact that I'm fairly confident in the level of compassion felt by the "average consumer" for innocent animals, I'm not completely naive. Humans are a pretty arrogant and dangerous bunch of animals, and many people do not care about the suffering of others (and that can go for other humans, as well as animals). Their self-centered little worlds simply don't accommodate the concerns of a muskrat, wolf, or mink. They can easily rationalize that as long as suffering exists, cruelty does not matter. Some of these people will flaunt their attitudes defiantly.

But for many, there is greater concern of not being fashionable. It's not that they have the strong feelings of the flaunters, who wear full furs as a badge of their defiance. I believe there is a greater number of consumers whose feelings are self-centered. They don't want to be considered out of fashion. They don't want to be considered indifferent to the suffering of animals. But they may still consider furs to be a product of value -- as they were conditioned to think from childhoods spent when a fur coat was seen as a status symbol -- or they may simply be so insecure as to have a psychological need for whatever they are convinced is fashionable.

Ms. Consumer ...

The animal protection movement is not a monolithic entity of clones; it is a collection of diverse people of varying degrees of experience, skill, knowledge, intelligence, compassion, anger, commitment, motives, opportunity, resources, and much else that is utilized in the ongoing struggle to protect animals.

Similarly, the animal protection movement, by whatever name or however defined, does not follow a narrow, hard-edged line from point to point in a logical and mutually agreed upon path to a rigidly defined and agreed upon goal.

As in any advocacy work, errors are made, there are gains and setbacks, there are disagreement over tactics and priorities. The same could no doubt be said of the fur industry.

Some years ago an American advisory organization hired by the fur industry to assess tactics to promote furs came up with some observations that, in hindsight, seem pretty obvious. People are less inclined to buy furs if the fur is associated with animal suffering. On the other hand, people don't like being told what to do; they like to see themselves as exercising a freedom of choice in deciding what to buy.

The fur industry has subsequently sought to do two things. First it distances itself from the actual animals. Never has this been more evident than now, when the very appearance of fur is being so drastically altered. Just as people writing on a piece of paper are not likely to think of the tree that the paper once was, neither is much of the current use of fur likely to evoke an immediate image of a real, live animal.

Second, there is the usual appeal to purchase fur as a matter of choice. The less there is an association with the warm, breathing animal, the easier it is to sell the average consumer that he or she is making a good decision, and, indeed, in limiting the degree of choice.

Tactics change. In the winter of 1990-91, the fur industry complained to the Canadian Advertising Foundation, that an anti-fur ad my colleagues had prepared was "sexist." The ad showed a woman, dressed in a fur coat, ducking behind her purse, as if ashamed to be seen. The ad's text simply read, "You should be ashamed to wear fur. When you choose to wear fur, animals suffer and die needlessly. It's that simple. Don't wear fur."

At the time of the fur industry's complaint, I pointed out, in a newspaper column, that the pot was definitely calling the kettle black. "Compare that," I wrote, referring to the anti-fur ad in question, "with a fur industry ad printed in Vogue magazine in November 1990, showing a woman in a fur coat cuddling a baby. The text reads: 'It was right after Stephanie was born and I still had a few pounds to lose. Michael came home early that day and surprised me with a sable coat. I never felt more beautiful, more needed, or more loved in my entire life.'"

The purpose of a fur coat, judging from that ad, eight years ago, was to make a woman feel wanted, especially a woman who was a tad "overweight," and thus presumably of less "value" to her husband. Hubby's purchase of the fur thus becomes a means of reassuring her. I'll leave it to you to decide if this is or is not gross sexism, but it is most certainly an advertising ploy that would not work as effectively now, if, indeed, it worked back then.

Warmer winters aside, the question of warmth is also problematical. Obviously there are less expensive and more effective ways of keeping warm than by wearing a full-length fur coat -- indeed, the industry can't have it both ways. If the full-length coat is not fashionable, if women feel liberated enough not to worry that a few pounds of extra weight will reduce their value to the men in their lives, then what does a fur coat have to offer?

The modern uses of fur serve no such function ... it is simply a fashion, and one that can be sold because, unlike a full fur coat, it is not likely to be associated with those things -- conspicuous consumption and indifference to the suffering of animals -- that made the full fur coat increasingly unfashionable in the first place.

What to Do ...

Animal protectionists most definitely are going to fight back. The goal is still as it always has been, to decrease wearing of fur, from full-length coats to mere inconspicuous trim and heavily disguised accessories.

As well, there is need to focus the would-be consumer's attention on the suffering implicit in intensive "factory farm" rearing and slaughter of fur-bearing animals. We must find alternative but accurate and acceptable words for such relatively innocuous terms as "ranched" or "farmed" for the animals so cruelly imprisoned and used by the fur industry.

And we must keep the fur industry honest by pointing to the fallacy that fur is once more "fashionable," that fur is back.

We can target both the retailers and the consumers. Retailers are of particular interest because for most, particularly the huge chain stores like Macy's and Nordstrom's, furs represent a small fraction of their overall inventory. Neither consumer protest nor softness of sales justifies selling furs. Furs must pay their way.

As for the consumer, the same compassion or concern about what is fashionable that prevents someone like Mary from wearing a fur coat should prevent the wearing of fur trim.

There is still the consumer whose antipathy to a fur coat owes more to fashion or a desire not to seem indifferent to the plight of animals than to any real compassion, and so there is still need to make even such reduced and heavily disguised use of fur more socially unacceptable. It is often very difficult in the colder climates to find a coat that does not have fur trim, and that is no accident, it is a situation the fur industry works very hard to produce.

Don't Forget the Owl ...

Why did I mention a great horned owl, above, in reference to the abuse of animals that the fur industry symbolizes in my mind?

I have had the experience of seeing many fur-bearing animals caught by traps; talking to scientists, zoologists, trappers and veterinarian pathologists about trap injuries; seeing animals driven to psychotic behavior by the stresses of being kept in cages; reading reports and studies of the effects trapping has on animals.

I've seen red-winged blackbirds, cats, hooded mergansers, and various other wild and domestic animal species caught in traps meant for fur-bearers or for so-called "nuisance wildlife" but somehow when I think of the fur trade the image of that owl is often the one that comes to mind.

The great horned owl was huge, her feathers that wonderful, woodsy blend of intricate patterning that would allow her to blend into the surroundings of her forest home. Her large, yellow eyes were forward facing, producing the binocular vision so important to a predator. And she was a predator, as evidenced by her hooked beak and eight long, curved, sharply pointed talons on the ends of blunt and powerful toes. Her whole being was adapted to her predatory lifestyle. Behind her red facial disks, each centered on a large eye, were her ears, hidden, but large and sensitive to the slightest sound. The two tufts of feathers on top of her head, one on either side, bore a strange resemblance to the ears of a cat or other mammal, but had no such function. The edges of her broad flight feathers were delicately fringed, to soften the sound her wings would make as she flew through the night in search of unsuspecting prey.

All such things I had seen before. In those days I was seriously into wildlife rescue and rehabilitation, and when some people phoned about an owl found in a leghold trap, it was all part of the routine. They had extracted the bird and would bring it over, as per my instructions.

It was not machismo that made me decide not to wear heavy gloves. I was used to handling large raptorial birds. I had good eyesight and very quick reflexes and could predict a bird's movements and behavior. I preferred to keep my hands bare simply because I could better feel the bird and reduce the likelihood that I might accidentally squeeze against a sore spot or a broken bone.

But this bird was different. Her pupils rapidly dilated and expanded, her beak clacked in defensive defiance and, in the vernacular of the wildlife rehabilitator, she nailed me! She struck out and grabbed me with a powerful and painful grip, one that could send sharp claws down through the skin and muscle of my hand, to the bone.

I was able to extricate myself, eventually, and, chagrined, put on the gloves after all. This bird was not acting like any great horned owl I had ever handled. She was fierce, unpredictable and, by every way I had to judge, in great pain.

I moved her, as quickly as I could, to an owl sanctuary in Vineland, Ontario, run by my old friend, Kay McKeever, perhaps the world's authority on caring for owls. I warned Kay about the bird's strange nature. Kay smiled and nodded. For every great horned owl I have ever handled, Kay had handled dozens. My warning was not needed.

But later she phoned to tell me that even she, with her care and her experience, and while wearing gloves, had also been nailed. Her very informed opinion was that the bird was in relentless agony. The trap had crushed nerves and generated such pain as to drive the bird mad with it. X-rays confirmed diagnosis, and given the bird's intense degree of suffering and how poor the prognosis was, there was nothing more humane to be done than euthanasia.

That owl suffered as animals do suffer no matter how often the fur industry claims otherwise. Of the caged animals on so-called fur farms, some suffer more than others, but it is the predators, the mink and foxes and bobcats, who most haunt me. It is all so terrible to contemplate.

I don't know if fur sales will continue to plummet. I think they will if we work hard to assure it. The shift to disguising furs is one borne of desperation. We must keep up the pressure. Ultimately we have only one real ally, the inherent compassion of people. Upon seeing the pain of that great horned owl -- a species that normally seems to epitomize the concept of stoic dignity -- only a sadist could possibly be indifferent and uncaring. And that owl is not an exception.

Mary is not a cruel person. Having made the connection, she'll never again buy a fur product.