PETA's horse proposal skewed

During my early childhood (late 1950s, which, Lord knows, is getting harder to remember), there was but one carriage driver plying his trade around the streets of lower peninsular Charleston. The city enjoyed nothing like the riches it does now. Bitter divisions between North and South still existed and, for the most part, Northern tourists didn't spend much time down here because of the South's redneck reputation. Charleston is in the South; ergo, Charleston must be a redneck city. Hilarious and oversimplified, but true in many respects.

When word finally got out that Charleston is a unique antique city, that she was the undisputed pearl of Colonial Britain, that she has been resident host to scholars, artists, intellectuals, scientists, revolutionaries and some of our country's foremost political and military thinkers, tourism surged. According to a chamber of commerce spokesperson, it's now the city's No. 2 industry, right behind the port in terms of economic impact.

The dramatic increase in tourism has triggered a steady rise in population, which has also been good for the economy. That is to say, a rise in population places demands on local goods and services, which, theoretically, should provide for more jobs and better wages.

One of the demands placed by tourists per se is an enjoyable, quiet and nostalgic way to view the Historic District. Hence the role for horse-drawn carriages, which by the early 1970s, had burgeoned in number, making national news when the Gaillard administration oversaw the application of leather "diapers" to equine posteriors, thus keeping malodorous calling cards off public thoroughfares.

Since then, the number of carriages has probably reached critical mass and is, in fact, not without inconvenience. The other day, for example, while headed north on Meeting Street from South Battery, I counted seven in the northbound lane alone before getting to Tradd Street. Traffic was stacked up, and just as I managed to get around one of the carriages, boom! (a little John Madden lingo there) another stared me in the face.

But then I try to remind myself what tourism has done for the local economy, how many jobs depend on it, how the industry itself may rely to some extent on the availability of carriages, and my blood pressure starts to normalize. Particularly considering the recession. Despite the charms of a carriage ride and everything else the city has to offer, hotel occupancy is down. This means that the typically bountiful revenues generated by accommodations' taxation are also down, which affects a number of programs important to the city.

Right in the midst of this (timing is everything), our good friends at PETA decide it's now appropriate to have the horses retired to pasture and shut down the entire carriage industry. These animals, which are meant to work and not lounge around munching daisies, would enter the realm of the useless and probably get bored to death (literally).

In all my years, I don't think I've seen a single animal pulling carriages that I would call distressed. Hot, sweaty, tongue hanging out on occasion — yes, all of that. (I do the same thing working out.) But on the verge of collapse? Never. That's not to say it hasn't happened, but no animal or person is immune from an untoward event while going about the business of living.

Is there any business in this city more tightly regulated than the carriage industry? If it's too hot, the animals don't work. If it's a degree cooler, they're closely watched, watered and have routine temperature checks. Routes are carefully scrutinized, as are carriage densities, design and everything else imaginable. Violations go before Livability Court, which can be difficult.

To suggest the animals are, in general, intentionally harmed is just crazy. Why would owners want to abuse the very means by which they obtain their livelihoods? As far as injuries to passengers are concerned, it's clear that nothing is without risk, including getting out of bed in the morning. We'd be physically better off getting rid of the automobile and resuming — you guessed it — horse and buggy riding. After all, about 40,000 Americans die annually in car wrecks, a number difficult to conceptualize.

I, too, am an animal lover, and, as much as I hate to admit it, understand the basic mission of activist organizations such as PETA. It's the skewed ideology negatively impacting humanity while providing no net benefit to animals that I protest. What do I mean? Simply this: That if PETA once again gets its way, watch the prices of glue and dog food nosedive.

Edward M. Gilbreth is a Charleston physician. Reach him at edwardgilbreth@comcast.net.