My story begins in Zimbabwe

with a brave park ranger named Orpheus

and an injured buffalo.

And Orpheus looked at the buffalo
on the ground, and he looked at me,

and as our eyes met, there was an unspoken grief 
between the three of us.

She was a beautifully wild and innocent creature,

and Orpheus lifted the muzzle
of his rifle to her ear. (Gunshot)

And at that moment,
she started to give birth.

As life slipped from the premature calf, 
we examined the injuries.

Her back leg had been caught 
in an eight-strand wire snare.

She'd fought for freedom 
[for] so hard and so long

that she'd ripped her pelvis in half.

Well, she was finally free.

Ladies and gentlemen, today I feel 
a great sense of responsibility

in speaking to you 
on behalf of those that never could.

Their suffering is my grief,
is my motivation.

Martin Luther King best summarises 
my call to arms here today.

He said, "There comes a time 
when one must take a position that's neither safe,

nor politic, nor popular.

But he must take that position 
because his conscience tells him that it's right."

Because his conscience
tells him it is right.

At the end of this talk 
I'm gonna ask you all a question.

That question is the only reason
I traveled here today

all the way from the African savanna.

That question for me has cleansed my soul.

How you answer that question 
will always be yours.

I remember watching the movie 
The Wizard of Oz as a young kid,

and I was never scared of the witch 
or the flying monkeys.

My greatest fear was that I'd grow up
like the Lion, without courage.

And I grew up always asking myself 
if I thought I'd be brave?

Well, years after Dorothy 
had made her way back to Kansas,

and the Lion had found his courage,

I walked into a tattoo parlor 
and had the words

'Seek and Destroy' tattooed
across my chest.

And I thought that'd make me
big and brave.

But it'd take me almost a decade 
to grow into those words.

By the age of 20 I'd become 
a clearance diver in the navy.

By 25, as a special operations sniper,

I knew exactly how many clicks of elevation 
I needed on the scope of my rifle

to take a headshot on a moving target 
from 700m away.

I knew exactly how many grams 
of high explosives it takes

to blast through a steel plate door 
from only a few meters away,

without blowing myself, 
or my team, up behind me.

And I knew that Baghdad was a shitty place, 
and when things go bang,

well, people die.

Now back then, I'd no idea 
what a conservationist did,

other than hug trees and piss off large corporations. 
(Laughter)

I knew they had dreadlocks.
I knew they smoked dope. (Laughter)

I didn't really give a shit about the environment, 
and why should I?

I was the idiot that used to speed up in his car 
just trying to hit birds on the road.

My life was a world away 
from conservation.

I'd just spent nine years 
doing things in real life

most people wouldn't dream 
of trying on a Playstation.

Well, after 12 tours to Iraq as a so-called 'mercenary', 
the skills I had were good for one thing:

I was programmed to destroy.

Looking back now, on everything I've done, 
and the places I've been,

in my heart, I've only ever performed 
one true act of bravery.

And that was a simple choice 
of deciding 'Yes' or deciding 'No'.

But it was that one act 
which defines me completely

and ensures there'll never be separation 
between who I am, and what I do.

When I finally left Iraq behind me I was lost.

Yeah I felt – ahh – I just had no idea 
where I was going in life

or where I was meant to be and I arrived in Africa 
at the beginning of 2009.

I was aged 29 at the time.

Somehow, I always knew 
I'd find a purpose amongst chaos,

and that's exactly what happened.

I'd no idea though, I'd find it in a remote part 
of the Zimbabwe bush.

And we were patrolling along, 
and the vultures circled in the air

and as we got closer the stench of death
hung there, in the air like a thick, dark veil,

and sucked the oxygen
out of your lungs.

And as we got closer, 
there was a great bull elephant,

resting on its side, with its face cut away.

And the world around me stopped.

I was consumed by a deep 
and overwhelming sadness.

Seeing innocent creatures killed like this 
hit me in a way like nothing before.

I'd actually poached as a teenager 
and they're memories I'll take to the grave.

Time had changed me though; 
something inside wasn't the same.

And it's never gonna be again.

I asked myself, 
"Does that elephant need its face

more than some guy in Asia needs 
a tusk on his desk?"

Well of course it bloody does, 
that was irrelevant.

All that mattered there and then was:

Would I be brave enough to give up
everything in my life

to try and stop
the suffering of animals?

This was the one true defining 
moment of my life:

Yes or no?

I contacted my family the next day 
and began selling all my houses.

These are assets a well-advised mercenary 
quickly acquires with the proceeds of war.

My life-savings have since been used
to found and grow

the International Anti-Poaching
Foundation.

The IAPF is a direct-action, 
law enforcement organization.

From drone technology, 
to an international qualification for rangers,

we're battling each and every day 
to bring military solutions

to conservation's thin green line.

Now my story may be slightly unique,

but I'm not going to use it to talk to you today 
about the organization I run --

in what probably could have been 
a pretty good fundraiser.

(Laughter) (Applause)

Remember, today is about the question 
I'm gonna ask you at the end.

Because it's impossible for me to get up here
and talk about just saving wildlife

when I know the problem of animal welfare 
is much broader throughout society.

A few years after I saw that elephant 
I woke up very early one morning.

I already knew the answer to the question 
I was about to ask myself,

but it was the first time
I'd put it into words:

Does a cow value its life 
more than I enjoy a barbecue?

See, I'd been guilty all this time 
of what's termed 'speciesism'.

Speciesism is very much the same 
as racism or sexism.

It involves the allocation
of a different set of values,

rights or special considerations
to individuals,

based solely on who or what they are.

The realisation
of the flexible morality

I'd used to suit my everyday conveniences 
made me sick in the stomach.

See, I'd loved blaming parts of Asia 
for their insatiable demand for ivory and rhino horn,

and the way the region's
booming economic growth

is dramatically increasing
the illegal wildlife trade.

When I woke up that morning
though I realised,

even though I'd dedicated my life 
to saving animals,

in my mind I was no better
than a poacher,

or the guy in Asia
with a tusk on his desk.

As this 'over-consumptive meat-eater' 
I'd referred to some animals as 'beasts'.

When in reality I'd been the beast: 
destructively obedient,

a slave to my habits, 
a cold shoulder to my conscience.

We've all had contact with pets 
or other animals in our lives.

We can't deny our understanding 
of the feelings that each animal has.

The ability to suffer pain
or loneliness.

And to fear.

Like us also, each animal has the ability 
to express contentment,

to build family structures, and want 
of satisfying basic instincts and desires.

For many of us though,

that's as far as we allow
our imagination to explore

before the truth inconveniences
our habits.

The disconnect that exists 
between consuming a product

and the reality it takes to bring that product 
to market is a phenomenon to itself.

Animals are treated like commodities 
and referred to as property.

We call it 'murder' to kill a human being 
yet create legal and illegal industries

out of what would be regarded as torture 
if humans were involved.

And we pay people to do things to animals 
that none of us would engage in personally.

Just because we don't see it up close 
does not mean we're not responsible.

Peter Singer, the man who popularised 
the term 'speciesism' wrote,

"Although there may be differences 
between animals and humans

they each share the ability to suffer.

And we must give equal consideration 
to that suffering.

Any position that allows similar cases 
to be treated in a dissimilar fashion

fails to qualify as an acceptable
moral theory."

Around the world this year 65 billion
animals will be killed in factory farms.

How many animals' lives
is one human's life worth?

A meat-eater in this room will consume, 
on average, 8,000 animals in their lifetime.

Ocean pollution, global warming 
and deforestation

are driving us towards 
the next great mass-extinction

and the meat industry is the greatest negative factor 
in all of these phenomena.

The illegal traffic in wildlife now ranks 
as one of the largest criminal industries in the world --

it's up there with drugs, guns 
and human trafficking.

The ability to stop this devastation

lies in the willingness
of an international community

to step in and preserve
a dying global treasure.

Experimentation on animals –

If animals are so like us that we can substitute 
using them instead of humans

then surely they have 
the very same attributes

that mean they deserve 
to be protected from harm?

Whether we're talking about factory farming, 
live export, poaching, the fur trade,

logically, it's all on the same
playing field to me.

Suffering is suffering,

and murder is murder.

And the more helpless the victim,

the more horrific the crime.

Next time you think 
an animal lover is too emotional,

too passionate, or even a little crazy, 
please remember

we see things through a different lens.

So in a few days,
my son's gonna be born.

I find myself wondering, 
"What kind of world is he entering?"

Are we gonna be the generation 
that defines our failure as a species?

I believe our generation
will be judged

by our moral courage
to protect what's right.

And that every worthwhile action 
requires a level of sacrifice.

Well, I now offer myself, 
without reservation, to animals.

And when I strip away 
all the material belongings around me,

I see that I too, am an animal.

We're family. 
Together on one planet.

And of the five million species
on that planet,

only one has the power to determine 
what level of suffering is acceptable

for all other sentient beings
to endure.

Whether it's eating less meat,

contributing to the fight against poaching
or speaking up for the voiceless,

we all have choices.

And small changes in our lives
mean big changes in others' [lives].

So now back to the beginning.

My reason for being here
is my question for you:

next time you have an opportunity 
to make a difference for animals,

will you be brave enough?

Yes or no?

Thank you very much.

(Applause)