To put it bluntly, killing animals is what we do in New Zealand.
It's not just the bobby calves separated from their mothers shortly after birth – we kill all our cattle.
Cows, when they no longer produce enough milk to be economically viable and even bulls, celebrated in news stories for their breeding prowess, we killed 463,000 of them last year.
Broadly, based on optimistic outcomes, economists see the impact of this outbreak as akin to a drought – not insignificant but with a natural hedge.
If the cull tightens milk supply it pushes global prices up, balancing the losses from lower production.
To that extent the situation isn't prompting any material revision to economic outlooks.
It isn't changing any forecasts for Reserve Bank rate rises.
From a fiscal point of view the hit to the crown accounts – at about $600m across 10 years – isn't hugely significant either. There was certainly enough headroom in Budget projections to absorb that.
It could get worse of course. Eradication could fail. In this case we'd be looking at a management scenario which is forecast to cost the country more like $1.2 billion – presumably on top of costs already incurred.
Even then, this is not a national disaster in the current economic context.
It is ugly and unfair for many hard working farmers.
And it does is serve as reminder of how vulnerable New Zealand's economy is to biosecurity risk.
Recent Treasury forecasts put the cost of a Foot and Mouth outbreak at $22 billion.
The wider cost of that to New Zealand's rural communities doesn't bear thinking about.