Sorry, I only cry when the dog dies in the movie

There. I said it. I cry for animals, not for people. When a dog dies in a movie my throat tightens and my eyes burn. When humans die on screen I mostly feel numb. That is not because I am heartless. It is because I have watched humanity long enough to feel disappointed, exhausted and deeply skeptical of what we call human kindness.

The big pink elephant in the room is humanity itself. Is there anything on this planet as destructive as humans. To survive we take everything. We cut forests, drain rivers, dig the earth open, build cities that choke the land, produce endless waste and plastics that end up burned or floating in the oceans. We kill animals for food which would be natural if it stopped there. But it does not. We destroy habitats and when animals dare to return we shoot them. Bears, wolves, snakes, spiders. Creatures that were here long before us are treated as invaders in their own world.

We industrialize life itself. Animals are bred, confined and grown in environments designed purely for efficiency, not dignity. I will be honest. I am part of that hypocrisy. I love animals and I eat meat. The only reason I can live with that contradiction is because the meat no longer looks like an animal. It is wrapped, labeled and sanitized in a supermarket package. That does not make it better. It just makes it easier to ignore.

Religion as a mirror of human weakness

Humans are the only species that need religion. You never see a dog going to church or a horse praying for forgiveness. Religion exists because humans know, deep down, that something is wrong. We sense our own cruelty and try to justify it, soften it or outsource responsibility to a higher power.

Christianity teaches that God is good and that humans are responsible for their actions. Then tell me this. Why create a species that systematically destroys its home, kills other living beings and massacres its own kind. Islam calls itself a religion of peace, yet throughout history and into the present we see force, coercion and inequality justified in its name by those in power. Peace that needs to be imposed is not peace.

Judaism is different for me. Everyone who knows me knows I feel closest to it. Not because of blind belief, but because of structure, discipline and respect for life. Many Jewish laws are not about domination but limitation. About restraint.

Kosher as respect, not convenience

Kosher laws, known as kashrut, are not primarily about health or taste. They are about holiness, discipline and identity. Eating becomes a moral act. Animals are not consumed casually. They must meet clear criteria. Slaughter must minimize suffering. Blood, associated with life, is drained. Meat and milk are separated to avoid mixing life giving symbols with death.

Even when the reasons are not fully explained, the purpose is clear. Awareness. Boundaries. Memory. Identity. A constant reminder that life is not cheap.

And yet even here I see hypocrisy. I dream of making Aliyah, but I cannot because I lack the required documents. I accept that. What I cannot accept is being told to convert as a workaround. Conversion for convenience empties Judaism of meaning. If belief and commitment are replaced by paperwork solutions, the moral core is weakened.

Why Israel matters to me

As the founder of Time To Stand Up For Israel, people often ask how someone so critical of humanity can love a country so deeply. The answer is simple. Israel, from the moment of its rebirth in 1948, tried to repair rather than exploit. It built. It innovated. It protected nature. It created nature reserves in a region where survival itself was uncertain. It developed drip irrigation to save water. It turned seawater into drinking water. It invested in solutions rather than excuses.

This is not about claiming moral perfection. No country is perfect. But intent matters. Direction matters.

My criticism is not of people as individuals. It is of cultures and regimes that glorify conquest, martyrdom and domination while neglecting life, animals and the environment. Where destruction is celebrated and accountability is absent. That is where my rejection lies.

In the end, my empathy flows most easily toward those who do not lie about what they are. Animals kill to eat, not to rule. They do not invent ideologies to justify cruelty. They do not need holy books to explain away violence.

A world without people would be peaceful. A world with people will always struggle. And so yes, I will keep crying when the dog dies in the movie. It is the last honest reaction I have left.