Outrage over cruel foie gras at Olympics must prompt swift action from UK

Philip Lymbery
5 min readAug 12, 2024

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The human equivalent of the diet of a foie gras goose is 28 pounds of spaghetti — force-fed every day

Like so many top sporting events, this year’s Paris Olympic Games has had plenty of highs and lows. Big moments include Britain’s Keely Hodgkinson storming to 800m gold with a simply brilliant performance. And USA’s Noah Lyles winning the closest men’s 100m final ever.

On the other side of the card, there was tennis icon Andy Murray’s illustrious career ending with a straight-sets defeat. Then there was the straight red incident in women’s football that left Brazil’s all-time leading goal scorer Marta walking off the pitch in tears.

Pick your event and choose the moment that sticks in your mind the most. Good or bad. That’s what sport’s all about. The twists, the turns, the things you didn’t expect. Then there’s the off-field issues.

Amongst the hard-to-digest news was that the Olympic Organising Committee served foie gras to VIP spectators. Its offerings have been aimed at corporate clients and guests paying between 85 and several thousand euros for hospitality packages.

Foie gras is extraordinary for all the wrong reasons. Produced from the fattened livers of force-fed ducks and geese, it has long been seen as a potent symbol of animal suffering. The birds are restrained as a tube is used to force grain down their throats. It’s a harsh way to treat them.

‘Almost mythical’?

Force-feeding causes the birds’ livers to swell up to ten times bigger than normal. Not surprisingly, such swollen livers lead to breathing and walking difficulties. Some of the ducks spend their days confined in tiny cages.

Emblematic of its southwest region, France is the world’s largest producer of this cruel anachronism, followed by Hungary and Bulgaria. Described as an “almost mythical” food product and a “symbol of French gastronomical excellence” by CIFOG, the professional body for foie gras producers, supplies of the product almost didn’t make it to the Olympics due to outbreaks of bird flu.

France has been among the countries worst affected by an unprecedented global spread of bird flu, or highly pathogenic avian influenza. However, the disease hit force-feeding farms less hard this winter, allowing chefs to have enough of the stuff for the prestigious Games.

Sick to my stomach

It’s a pitiful practice that is banned in Britain, Switzerland and a host of EU countries, including Denmark, Finland, Germany, Poland and Sweden. Despite banning production, Britain and other countries still allow imports.

I remember feeling sick to my stomach as a kid at school when I first heard about what goes on in the making of foie gras. It took my young mind quite some time to come to terms with knowing that someone would deliberately cram huge quantities of food down the necks of ducks and geese, just for some delicacy. It stayed with me. Haunted me. Shaped my desire to do something about it.

A decade or so later, in my role at Compassion in World Farming, I organised a publicity tour of the country to tell others what was going on. From London to Edinburgh, local MPs posed for media photographers with a lifelike model goose and a chef dressed in full regalia.

For the cameras, the chef would hold aloft a silver platter weighed down with an incredible 28 pounds of freshly cooked spaghetti: the human equivalent of what a goose gets force-fed every day for foie gras. No wonder their livers swell.

Boris Johnson backtracked

Back then, we were calling on the British government to ban imports of foie gras. After all, if it was wrong to produce, then surely it must be wrong to sell?

Thirty years later, Boris Johnson’s government proposed a ban on imports but sadly backed away from it. Jacob Rees-Mogg was named amongst the Cabinet ministers who thought the government should not be imposing restrictions on consumers.

It’s an argument that I’ve always found hard to swallow. We have legal restrictions all the time on what we can and can’t buy, what we should or shouldn’t eat. That’s all part and parcel of a decent society. Having laws and standards that reflect our values. Not wanting cruelty to animals is just such a value. Important to the majority of people in many parts of the world, not least Britain and Europe.

In the run-up to this year’s UK general election, Labour pledged to take action with Steve Reed, the then Shadow Environment Secretary, telling The Times: “We will ban the commercial import of foie gras, where ducks and geese are aggressively force-fed.”

Now in the pivotal governmental role of Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, he is in the perfect position to deliver on that promise. Mr Reed, all eyes are now on you…

Best of human endeavour

Coming back to the Olympics, I absolutely applaud the commitment of the Paris 2024 organisers in striving to “set new sustainability standards for global sporting events”. Reducing the environmental impact while maximising social and economic benefits. Aiming to deliver an event that is “more responsible, more sustainable and more inclusive.”

Amongst the food pledges were a 50 per cent reduction in single-use plastic in catering, and more plant-based dishes to halve the carbon footprint of the food on offer. All of which is super-important. Especially as Earth Overshoot Day fell on August 1 this year, slap-bang in the middle of the Olympics. That’s the date on which humanity’s resource consumption for the year exceeds Earth’s capacity to regenerate those resources that year.

But let’s be clear: foie gras has no place in a responsible, forward-looking society. It’s inclusion amongst hospitality offerings jarred with what was otherwise an uplifting series of athletic events marking the very best of human endeavour.

Philip Lymbery is chief executive of Compassion in World Farming, a former United Nations Food Systems Champion and an award-winning author. His latest book is Sixty Harvests Left: How to Reach a Nature-Friendly Future. Philip is on X/Twitter @philip_ciwf

Note: This article was first published in The Scotsman on Friday 9th August, 2024

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Philip Lymbery
Philip Lymbery

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