Vegans and Sticky Wickets
I recently flew from Denver to Fayetteville, Arkansas, on a commercial airliner that had only one flight attendant. This flight attendant was competent in every way except truly intelligible English. Thickly accented speech rendered most of the attendant’s announcements undecipherable.
This was not a problem for frequent flyers, as the speeches are pretty much the same flight to flight. And the airline made an accommodation for the big safety speech (how to buckle your seatbelt, what do to in an emergency, etc.) by playing a pre-recorded message in the most intelligible English ever heard on an airplane.
But I did wonder, briefly, what would happen if the plane was suddenly in trouble and the passengers had to be told what to do to maximize their chances of survival? This was a domestic flight from one land-locked state to another, hence the primary language of most passengers could be presumed to be English. What was the airline’s responsibility to its passengers?
This got me to thinking about jobs. And accommodations. And where lines are or should be drawn.
At present, I would not expect to get a job lifting 50-pound sacks of feed in a warehouse. I simply don’t have the physical requirements for the job.
I do, however, have the knowledge and credentials to provide the aforementioned airline attendant some speech therapy to tone down that accent. We would do this while sitting at table together. No heavy lifting.
But what if my physical ailments land me in a wheelchair and I can’t easily get to the table because the doorway is too narrow for my chair? A widening of the doorway or a change of venue would pave the way for me to do a job I am fully capable of doing. These types of accommodations are guaranteed by the Americans with Disabilities Act.
What if I want a job as a cashier in Walmart but my devout veganism won’t allow me to sell meat or dairy? They could hire me and put a sign over my counter that says, “Sorry, no meat or dairy at this checkout.” But should they be so obliged? The selling of these animal groceries is part of the job description. Perhaps my vegan self just needs to find a job that jives better with my belief system.
But could “veganism” be regarded—and protected—as religious?
Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 (Title VII) mandates employers to reasonably accommodate religious beliefs unless doing so would impose undue hardship upon the employer’s agency.
Case in point: A Walgreens employee who refused to sell condoms to a couple because it violated his religious beliefs (Church and State, September 2022). The couple was embarrassed and complained. But Walgreens stood by its Title VII policy to allow clerks—or even pharmacists—to hand off such objectionable transactions to other employees.
I also read in Church & State (October 2022) about a nurse practitioner working in a health clinic embedded in a CVS drug store who refused to provide an abortion-related drug to a patient. The practitioner was Catholic and felt the provision of this drug violated commitment to her religion.
I can respect the woman’s desire to properly observe her faith. But I also respect the rights of the clinic’s clients to obtain whatever legal prescriptions are available to them without undue hardship or embarrassment.
And I applaud the aforementioned airline for hiring a non-native speaker of English—but I do rather wish mandatory speech therapy was part of the contract.
Sticky wickets. (Good thing I’m not really vegan.)