This week on Network and Chill, we're live from South by Southwest with California Governor Gavin Newsom, the politician behind viral TikToks and one of the most talked about figures in American politics. After years of leading the country's most populous state, Governor Newsom is getting candid about why rent is too high, why groceries cost too much, and how the government is and isn't showing up for everyday Americans. Get ready for an unfiltered conversation about the wealth gap, housing, AI's impact on the economy, and what it'll actually take to build a better financial future. Listen wherever you get your podcasts or watch on youtube.com slash your rich BFF. Chances are your favorite websites used to depend on Google for traffic and money, but that's not really working anymore. Now publishers are scrambling for new lifelines. Neil Vogel, who runs People, Inc. says his company figured it out a couple years ago. You would think, given what everyone said about us, that we would be the guys that would be doing the worst now. We're kind of the guys doing the best now. I'm Peter Kafka, the host of Channels, the show about tech and media and what happens when they collide. You can hear my conversation with Neil Vogel now, wherever you listen to your favorite podcast. We all know it's better to save five people's lives than to save only one. But in 1977, one philosopher dared to argue, maybe it isn't? Should the numbers count by John Torek is among the few modern philosophy papers that might fairly be described as infamous. When I was taught it as an undergrad, it was presented as something between a cautionary tale and a punching back. Instead of dubious arguments in favor of a conclusion that was so absurd, it was astonishing that a respected professor would put his name to it. Here's how it goes. Imagine there's six people. They're all very sick and they're all going to die if they don't get treated with life-saving medicine. Five of those six people need just one pill and they'll survive. The sixth person, let's call him David, needs five pills to survive. It just so happens you have exactly five pills. What should you do? Most people, Torek concedes, will conclude that dividing the drug supply five ways and saving five lives is better than giving it all to David. But this would be a mistake. The conclusion that it's better to save five than one, he argues, is based on a belief that you can somehow sum up suffering and happiness between different people so that the suffering of five people adds up to more than the suffering of one. Torek objects, suffering is not additive in this way, he insists. David dying is bad for David. One of the other five sick people dying is bad for that person. There's no such thing as bad for the world or bad full stop. David is just one guy. You can't compare his suffering to that of the other five people all put together. That's not fair to David. Torek is basically saying you should compare apples to apples. Is David dying better than one of the others dying? No. Right? None of the five others will suffer more by dying than David would. Thus, Torek argues that the drug's owner should not just reflexively save the five instead of David. She should instead flip a coin. Heads the five live, tails David lives. That is the best way to show equal concern for each person. When I first read Torek, my reaction was basically, is this guy fucking with me? Would he flip a coin, not just like between one and five, but say it's one in a million, one in a billion? Like imagine a world leader who wants to do a nuclear strike just to save his best friend. He knows a billion people will die, but he wants to save his best friend. Is that okay? Does John Torek think that's okay? Like what is wrong with this man? I apparently was not alone in this reaction. A moral philosopher named Derek Parfit, who was legendarily even tempered and courteous, even for a philosopher, was made so furious by Torek's argument that by the end of the essay he wrote in reply, he was sort of reduced to lecturing Torek the way you would a preschooler. Why do we save the larger number? He wrote, because we do give equal weight to saving each. Each one counts for one. That is why more count for more. And yet over the years, I've encountered a few philosophers and philosophy adjacent folks who are, if not totally on board with Torek, at least Torek curious. They're skeptical that the numbers matter. I didn't really understand where a person like that could possibly be coming from. Or rather, I didn't understand until the shrimp. This is unexplainable. I'm Dylan Matthews. And today on the show, we consider the prawn. So let's say that Torek is wrong and the numbers do count. Here then are a couple of numbers. There are, as of this moment, roughly 8.1 billion human beings on Earth. According to the research group Fonalytics, those humans killed about 3.5 billion mammals in 2023, and over 20 times as many birds, including 78 billion chickens. But just as there's a gap between mammals and birds, there's an even bigger gap between birds and fish. No one knows with any kind of certainty how many fish humans kill each year. What about shellfish, though? The research group Rethink Priorities estimated recently that roughly 440 billion shrimp are killed on farms each year. And they expect that number to hit 760 billion by 2033. So those are the numbers. Now, suppose you care about animals welfare, or at least you think that humans have some kind of duties to the animals that we raise in farms, or that we take from the wild in order to feed ourselves. Suppose further that you think shrimp count even a little bit. They don't count as much as a human, they don't count as much as a cow, maybe even a trout. But suppose they still count in some way, as animals that are capable of feeling pain and are worthy of some consideration. If the numbers count, then surely it follows that the most pressing matter in the world of animal rights is the plight of the shrimp. It is all well and good for 22-year-old me to furiously insist in a philosophy seminar that John Torek is a madman, and of course the numbers should count. But if that is so, should these numbers count? Does the seemingly basic conclusion of wanting to save five humans ahead of one commit me to a kind of totalizing shrimp fanaticism? How far down this road is 35-year-old me willing to walk? Andres Jimenez-Zaria has walked down this road, at least a little ways. In 2020, he left a career in private equity to co-found Shrimp Welfare Project, which is exactly what it sounds like. When I asked Jimenez-Zaria about his switch, some of his explanations feel like what someone would say if they're leaving a finance job to work at a soup kitchen, or quitting a lucrative plastic surgery practice to help civilians in urgent war. He just wanted to do some good. My wife works with refugees, he told me, and I started to compare what she was doing and what I was doing. At some point, I decided I should be doing something beyond just making someone else richer. So he joined a group that helps people create new charities. The group gave him a menu of serious problems, not currently attracting much charitable attention. One of the items on that menu has on many menus, was shrimp. At first, Jimenez-Zaria recalled thinking, these folks have really lost their minds. Then he kept reading, and he saw the massive number of shrimp being farmed every year, and the evidence that shrimp are sentient, that they are at the very least able to feel pain, able to suffer, and the fact that literally no one on planet earth seemed to care. So, before he knew it, he was founding a shrimp welfare group. It is, to his knowledge, still the only group singularly dedicated to helping shrimp in the world. You should talk to him in his Zaria sometime. He's very effective at taking your views of the shrimp dilemma out of the philosophy seminar and into the ice slurry. The ice slurry is one of the major methods through which shrimp are killed, or not killed so much as transported while slowly dying. In theory, the low temperature in the slurry stuns the shrimp before they die, so they don't feel pain as they freeze to death. In theory, we do know that subjecting shrimp to cold ice or water reduces their activity, but it's not clear if this means they're stunned and no longer experiencing pain. They might just be paralyzed, feeling pain but unable to move. It's entirely possible that the shrimp in the slurry are freezing to death slowly and feeling the entire thing. But some shrimp don't go in the slurry. They're transported alive. So, what about them? Shrimp welfare project found that many of those end up asphyxiated, or crushed to death in crowded containers with just a small amount of water or ice. When him and his team investigated Indian shrimp farms, they found that 95% of the farmers they talked to believed the animals they tended could feel pain. When they saw the shrimp suffering, they would offer medicines or clean their water to make them feel better. One farmer said it was important to him to make the shrimp feel free. While there is less scientific evidence on the mental state of shrimp than that of other shellfish like crabs, London School of Economics researchers found evidence that backs these farmers up. The authors reported high confidence that Pneid shrimps, the kind of shrimp most people eat, have no receptors or neurons that can respond to external stimuli that can hurt the shrimp. They also reviewed some studies showing that shrimp respond to painkillers by becoming calmer and grooming the hurt area on their bodies less. More signs of shrimp's capacity to feel pain. The evidence is thin, the review concluded, but mostly because it's barely been researched. Whenever crustaceans have been closely examined by scientists, strong evidence of sentience is invariably found. In the end, the authors recommended that the British government treat all decapods, including shrimp, as sentient animals. So what do we do about it? Shrimp welfare project suggestions are quite modest. They offer shrimp farms free electric stunning machines. Their theory is that being shocked to death by electricity has got to be less painful than being slowly frozen or crushed to death. But to get the stunning machines, farms have to do a couple other favors for the shrimp. They have to give each shrimp a minimum amount of space. The shrimp must have enough room to move around, to burrow, and to rest. Their water must be kept clean and free of noxious chemicals. And the shrimp have to come from hatcheries that do not practice ice stock ablation. That's when farmers take female shrimps and cut their eyes off without anesthetic. Hatcheries like this because it makes the shrimp slay slightly more eggs. At the end of the day, shrimp welfare project is a tiny nonprofit. They have about 10 full-time staff, and they're working to help hundreds of billions of animals die less painful deaths. They're not trying to bring down the entire multi-billion-dollar shrimp industry. They're not even asking people to stop eating shrimp. So who could be mad about that? Many, many people, it turns out, can be mad about that. That's after the break. The world moves fast. You work day, even faster. Pitching products, drafting reports, analyzing data. Microsoft 365 Copilot is your AI assistant for work, built into Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and other Microsoft 365 apps you use, helping you quickly write, analyze, create, and summarize. So you can cut through clutter and clear a path to your best work. Learn more at microsoft.com slash n365 copilot. When the philosophy blogger Flo wrote a piece defending the importance of shrimp welfare, she was rewarded with some 1.4 million views of her ex-post, and a barrage of hate from enemies of the shrimp. Flo isn't an animal ethicist at all. She told me, I'd be so bored if I did that. It's like studying the ethics of punching random people in the face. Just don't do it. The point of her post was to explore the idea of scope sensitivity. Scope sensitivity is roughly put, the ethical concept that it's sometimes a good idea to count stuff. Sometimes, as when reading John Torrick, the importance of counting seems obvious. It matters whether it's one person or five people who are at risk of dying. But especially when numbers reach into the millions and billions and trillions, our ability to intelligently compare starts to erode. Maybe my favorite example is plastic straws. Over the last decade, huge amounts of global effort have gone into moving away from single-use plastic straws. My favorite coffee shop in Washington, D.C., has adopted this cardboard straw, and it has all the tensile strength of a chocolate eclair. But even the most alarming estimates of plastic straw usage suggested that straws account for, at most, 0.03% of the plastic waste dumped into the world's oceans every year. By contrast, fishing nets make up 46% of the waste. Focusing on plastic straws instead of on fishing nets, that's scope insensitivity. The casual dismissal of shrimp welfare struck flow as a similar kind of scope insensitivity. The number of shrimp killed every year is about four times greater than the number of humans who have ever lived in human history. If you think the shrimp matter at all, even if you think shrimp matter only 1%, or 0.1% as much as people matter, these numbers should alarm you. The scope matters. Ronnie Chang, the Daily Show correspondent, once did a segment on shrimp welfare project, inspired by the furious substack debate over it. He had penetrating questions for him and Zaria, for example, is this a sex thing? But the most trenchant questions he saved for an animal activist criticizing the quantitative approach of the group. Please don't be offended by this, he said. Are you just saying this because you're bad at math? There are two layers to the negative reaction to shrimp welfare. One is, well, it's shrimp. They're tiny. It's in the name. They look like gross ocean bugs. But the other layer is, I think, more fundamental. It's not about shrimp. It's about counting. Shrimp welfare project is the idea that the numbers ought to count taken to the absurd. Sure, you start with saving five humans rather than one, but once you get on that, trolley, the last stop is the view that maybe you should save a billion shrimp instead of one human. As I start to spiral out about this, about this choice between what seems like a kind of moral nihilism, where five lives don't count for more than just one, and a kind of shrimp fanaticism that obliges me to consign myself and my wife and child to monkish poverty so that we may serve the crustaceans who need us, I remember a man who takes neither of these positions, Andres Jimenez Zaria. He told me that he had tried to do this trolley exercise with his co-founder, where they compared the value of shrimps versus other animals or humans, and they dropped it five minutes in, because it was, in his words, irrelevant. The point isn't whether shrimp are more important than humans, he said. The question is whether this thing is important enough for shrimp to be able to survive. Some people to spend some time on. The answer, for us, was incontrovertibly yes. The public reaction to press coverage, like the Daily Show appearance, he said, was overwhelmingly positive. People didn't fulminate about the evils of prioritizing shrimp lives over those of humans. They asked how they could know if the shrimp they're buying is ethically raised and slaughtered. They asked for information about shrimp consciousness and pain awareness. They donated money. Shrimp welfare projects hasn't exactly taken over the shrimp industry, but it's making progress. They say they've worked with farms producing about four billion shrimp a year, or about one percent of all farmed shrimp. Humanizaria expresses a worldview that I've come to appreciate. You could call it shrimp centrism. The numbers matter. John Torg is wrong. But we are humans. We are often wrong. Our information is often imprecise. And certainly no one has enough information to conclude that shrimp welfare is the most important thing on earth. What we probably do have enough information to conclude is that shrimp matter. At least a bit. And maybe it's good that four billion of them a year get to die less painful deaths. This episode was written by me, Dylan Matthews. Production help from Bird Pinkerton, Jorge Just and Erica Wong, editing from Bird and Jorge with music mixing and sound design from Erica Wong. Meredith Haudenot runs the show. Julia Longoria is our editorial director. As always, thank you to Brian Resnick for co-creating the show. If you have any thoughts about our show, please send us an email. We're at unexplainable at vox.com. We really love hearing from you and we read every email. Yes, everyone. We'd also love it if you could leave us a review or a rating wherever you listen. It actually does help us find new listeners. You can also support this show and all of Vox's journalism by joining our membership program. You can go to vox.com slash members to get ad-free podcasts and a whole bunch of other goodies. And if you do become a member because of unexplainable, let us know. It would really make us happy. Unexplainable is part of the Vox Media Podcast Network and we'll be back next week.
