The Difference Between Steps and Standing Still

Veganism as Something-ism

Just a few days ago, I got into an exchange with an individual who subscribes to the My Face Is on Fire Facebook page. It was triggered by a link I'd posted to an article from The Thinking Vegan ("My interest lies in animal liberation, not making more vegans"). Gary Smith's article is largely a commentary on what's been left in our laps as animal rights advocates now that the term "vegan" has been co-opted and mangled by so many to purportedly mean any variation on using less animal products. Not making "more vegans" in this sense means not turning someone on to the former Freston fast craze or Bittman's "Vegan Before Six" thing and then convincing oneself that some sort of meaningful advocacy has actually been done. Smith writes:

At what point do we start to articulate animal liberation, the ethical argument for veganism? At what point do we start to articulate the animal rights message? [...] The outreach we are currently focused on is disingenuous and misleading, and backfires if it takes longer for people to understand the ethical message of liberation.

I do agree with that wholeheartedly and have been writing around that on My Face Is on Fire for a spell now, so it was bizarre to have someone who'd chosen to like and follow the blog's Facebook page suddenly pipe out to disagree with Smith's message about the need to include the ethical argument when engaging in vegan advocacy. The individual asserted that she feels strongly that if you convince someone of the health benefits of eating a plant-based diet that a conversion to veganism is almost a sure thing. We talked in circles around each other a bit as I attempted to explain to her that it doesn't follow that buying into self-concerned reasons having nothing to do with other animals would lead to a sudden epiphany about the immorality of exploiting other sentient beings.

A Step is a Part of... Stepping

As an abolitionist vegan, I'm not just interested in getting some people to not use this or that part of another animal on this or that day of the week. At least, I'm not interested in getting some people to not use this or that part of another animal on this or that day of the week for its own sake and as its own end. There needs to be movement towards not using other animals -- an actual "going" vegan. When engaging in vegan advocacy, it needs to be made clear that this going vegan is the starting point that needs to be reached for each of us to work towards the real goal -- to bring an end to the exploitation of others animals -- and that anything less falls short of it.

The aforementioned individual on Facebook, however, was convinced that using one argument to get someone to stop eating animals would either get them to connect their own dots somehow, or leave them more open to an ethical argument to cut out other forms of animal consumption and exploitation. Somehow, to this individual, this vegan, actually talking to people about animals having an interest in not being enslaved and slaughtered for human pleasure seemed counterintuitive to getting those people to stop providing the demand that perpetuates the enslavement and slaughter or other animals for human pleasure.

Baby Steps or Bog?

Too often I'll hear a "tsk" and the words "baby steps!" when I point out to advocates that the best way to talk to nonvegans about not using animals is to explain to them in clear terms why other animals aren't ours to use. The call for "baby steps!" is patronizing, honestly, as if nonvegans are somehow unable to grasp simple concepts like sentience or to be able to weigh actual facts rather than be coddled. Even more often, I'll hear the term "stepping-stone" tossed around to excuse advocating for variations on reduced animal use. A clear argument for veganism is what got me to go and stay vegan and the many, many years I teetered between lacto-vegetarianism and strict vegetarianism were no stepping-stone at all: They were a bog in which I was quite contentedly stuck, engaging in communal congratulatory backslapping with others in that same bog. I convinced myself that I was doing "enough" until someone finally told me that I wasn't and explained why in plain language. Many other abolitionist vegans with whom I've had conversations over the years have shared similar stories and sentiments. Why on earth would I advocate anything less than veganism and risk leading others into that same bog?

What the Veganism I Advocate Surely, Surely Ain't

So let's go back to Smith's article on The Thinking Vegan and this so-called vegan advocacy in which those who dodge being clear and consistent in providing it with a clear animal rights context now claim to be engaging . What's it left us with? The Huffington Post has become what a fellow-abolitionist and I half-jokingly call "re-veganism central" over the last few years, with its numerous articles by "former" vegans, wool-wearing or honey-eating "vegans" and as of this week (assuming I haven't missed any previous gems!) even butter and cheese eating "vegans". To her credit, Sasha Turgman does indeed add a "mostly" qualifier in her article's title and otherwise occasionally slips it into her article "On Being a Mostly Vegan". The article focuses on diet only, which is no longer a surprise in mainstream media articles touted as being about veganism. Turgman does refer to herself as a vegan without the qualifier, though, as if somehow being a "mostly" vegan is being a type of vegan.

I decided to become a vegan [...]

When I first became a vegan [...]

In fact, she describes herself quite explicitly at the beginning of the article (albeit again merely focusing on diet) as not eating some animal products:

It never crossed my mind that I would choose to give up all the creamy deliciousness of my favorite food to become a vegan, but here I am, meat, cheese and dairy-product free.

She lumps herself in with vegans again by perpetuating a few stereotypes to clarify to her readers that "we're not all tree-hugging, paint-throwing, fanatical activists" and that what apparently differentiates her from those other awful, awful vegans is her own insight into what acceptable veganism should be like: "It's about listening to my body and being healthy, if I eat butter or cheese one night, who cares?" (It's no wonder that she inserts into the article at some point that being whatever-it-is-she-is-that-clearly-isn't vegan "hasn't been hard at all"!)

Whenever I hear other animal advocates insist that they accomplish something by taking an apparently more kind and gentle poke at the status quo as they fall short of talking to people about plainly and simply not using other animals, there is inevitably another Sasha Turgman who pops up in mainstream media. And these Sasha Turgmans indulge in a weird sort of self-congratulatory happy dance, presenting themselves as some sort of vegan while unapologetically condoning -- even promoting -- not just that any human should continue to use other animals, but that vegans should as well. (Y'know, lest you want to end up branded a "fanatical activist" or something.)

You tell me, though: Baby-step or bog? It seems pretty obvious to me that it's incredibly disingenuous of us as advocates to conveniently omit any mention of the actual ethics of using and exploiting others. In teaching people that there's anything about vegan advocacy -- about veganism -- that shrugs off deliberately choosing to continue to exploit other animals, are we in fact advocating the taking of steps or are we merely advocating standing still? And if those of us who engage in advocacy don't present nonvegans with a clear consistent message about what veganism really is and of how it must factor in the rights and interests of others to not be exploited, who will? Surely not "(mostly) vegans" like Sasha Turgman.

To learn more about abolitionist animal rights and about vegan advocacy, please visit The Abolitionist Approach website.

A Tangent and Ramble on Potentiality and Speciesism

The Seed

The prolific James McWilliams recently wrote a piece about humans who use intelligence and then "potential intelligence" as criteria to assess whether it's moral to exploit others. You know the ones. Upon your bringing up the argument from marginal cases in response to their trying to assure you that they only eat "dumb things", they'll sometimes veer off in a slightly different direction to justify their continued use of others. They'll insist that regardless of being a toddler or in a coma that a human still has the "potential" to be more intelligent. McWilliams deals with the veering with ease, both bringing up that one could argue against this line of reasoning when discussing someone with Alzheimer's, for instance, whose potential in this sense -- at least in terms of being a rational agent -- isn't assured. Beyond this, McWilliams writes:

Potential hardly ensures the achievement of it. I have the potential to be the President of the United States, but this doesn’t mean that I should now be granted security detail and access to Air Force One. My potential to reside in the Oval Office, much less learn calculus, by no means ensures its fulfillment. In this sense, a potential right to something is, in effect, not a right at all.

He's right, of course that it's a failed stretch to try to hinge another's moral worth or value to us on that other's potential.

On Other Potentials

McWilliams also brings up in passing in his article that he views all non-vegans as potential vegans. It's not an uncommon assertion for those engaged in vegan advocacy to make. I think that in this sea of speciesism, most of us would like to cross our fingers and believe that friends, family and other loves ones -- that neighbours, coworkers and strangers alike -- will eventually "get it" and reject the violence inherent in the exploitation of others animals. After all, we each came around. We each came to view other animals as persons with their own wants and needs existing outside of their use to us so why shouldn't others? The thing is that some of them very well may.

Off on a slight tangent (and ramble), I guess that on one level, I would like to view all non-vegans as potential vegans as well. Of course, asserting this doesn't always sit well. I've had loved ones who've overheard me mention it (or who've read something in which I've written it) who have felt that this was patronizing. In a few cases, some told me that this sort of mindset left them feeling as if their being accepted -- whether by me, or by other vegans -- felt conditional, as if they were only being welcomed in to this or that vegan's life with the expectation that they will eventually go vegan. Of course, as McWilliams argued in his aforementioned article, someone's having a potential to be something hardly assures its achievement. I bring this up because I do worry about those vegans who cling too tightly to viewing their decidedly nonvegan loved ones as "potential" vegans and who end up disappointed when things don't fall into place.

On the Mingling

I've written quite a bit about vegan-nonvegan relationships over the years. Almost three years ago, a discussion with a vegan advocate I know and respect led to his stating to me that he would no sooner go out with a speciesist than he would a racist. Considering the fact that the context of our discussion involved my own relationship at the time with a nonvegan who was adamant that, although he would happily -- and voluntarily -- avoid consuming animal products in my presence, he would never come around to recognizing that other animals have a right not to be used by us, the comparison left me feeling that my own judgment had been questioned. In a post called "Being an Abolitionist Vegan in an Omni World" I wrote the following about my reaction to the discussion:

On a plain and ordinary level, I've always found myself agreeing with others that racism=sexism=speciesism. However, the association made concerning this person for whom I'd come to care didn't sit well, especially where I felt myself being judged for having allowed myself to accept this person regardless of his speciesism. I'd felt I'd been deemed inconsistent--a bad abolitionist.

So why the disconnect? I felt like a hypocrite. But then I didn't. I have an omnivorous mother. I have an omnivorous sister and two omnivorous nephews. I've explained to them my reasons for going vegan and those reasons have bounced off of them. Should I feel shame for continuing to love them or continuing to associate with them? Is the onus somehow on me to keep pressing them to change, however uninterested they've seemed thus far? Where does one draw the line with regards to one's obligation to educate others about veganism? Particularly when it comes to your personal relationships? And what of the aftermath? What if you fail? Do you "tsk-tsk" and walk away? Or do you acknowledge that the overwhelming majority of humans--whether strangers or loved ones--don't view nonhuman animals as anything other than things to be used? Does compartmentalizing this make you a bad abolitionist? Does it make you a hypocrite? Does it make you a realist?

As I soon discovered, I was far from the only vegan with these questions weighing on her. The truth is that, with very few exceptions, most of us weave our lives around nonvegans around us. We do this on various emotional levels and in the end, it really is up to each of us how far we wish to take it. We're each left examining our own boundaries and sussing out how to sort out out our perhaps conflicting emotions and to hammer out a rationale with which we can be happy.

I won't revisit the whole "should or shouldn't" debate that some occasionally try to rekindle concerning whether vegans should (or shouldn't!) seek out romantic relationships with nonvegans. It's not my place to make up someone else's mind about who she welcomes into her life. Even less so do I have any business admonishing or even chiding another over the whole affair of how she goes about falling in love. What I have done in the past, though -- what I will continue to do -- is to take issue with those animal advocates who do shame others in the vegan community for how they set their own boundaries, whether or not the setting involves opting to involve themselves with nonvegans. Dealing with others is often the hardest part of being vegan and I think it's complicated enough for vegans to navigate an overwhelmingly nonvegan world without having to deal with antagonism from fellow-vegans on a matter which already weighs heavily on our hearts and minds.

Where Factoring in Potential Can Become Problematic

You've heard it before: "I won't be there to hold your hand if she doesn't go vegan!" Tantamount to a heads-up to an impending I-told-you-so, this sort of statement is made every so often by advocates chiding others for their romantic involvement with nonvegans when those others end up trying to defend their decision or choice to be with a nonvegan. Now, you'd think that it would be the threat of withholding support that might get my attention when such a thing is uttered. In fact, what troubles me more is what invariably leads to such a statement's being made in the first place.

"He really likes animals. I know that if I give him a few books to read, he'll come around."

"She's already a vegetarian; after enough time with me, I'm sure that she'll see that consuming dairy and eggs and other animal products is no different from consuming meat."

"He's really involved in social justice issues; I just need to open his eyes to justice issues involving nonhumans, as well."

"If she eventually loves me enough, she'll go vegan for me."

The translation? "S/he has the potential to go vegan, so I just need to cross my fingers and wait for it to happen." But as James McWilliams points out in that somewhat different context in the article mentioned at the beginning of this post, "[p]otential hardly ensures the achievement of it. I have the potential to be the President of the United States, but this doesn’t mean that I should now be granted security detail and access to Air Force One". I bring this up because, as I mentioned above, I do worry about vegans who do choose to involve themselves with nonvegans and who -- whether they're fully aware of it or not -- do so with strings.

What? Is she saying that it's wrong for me to hope that my new boyfriend might become vegan?

The answer to this is a jumbled yes and no. You see, as mentioned earlier, I'd certainly like to believe in the possibility that many of the nonvegans around me could one day go vegan. Someone in whom you sense and see moral concern for other animals and whom you think may very well follow through with the moral impulse to act upon this concern would surely benefit from receiving that additional information and hearing those sound ethical arguments. But what if this doesn't pan out and you'd hinged everything upon it? Then what?

Isn't it incredibly problematic to walk into any relationship keeping your eye on an ideal? Does it honestly make sense to choose to be with someone with the expectation that this someone will one day, hopefully sooner than later, be significantly different in both outlook and action? Think about it for a second and also think about it outside of the context of animal use. Can you really expect to fall in love -- truly, madly and deeply in love -- with someone you expect someone to be, rather than with the someone that individual already is? Is it fair to you or to that individual to have some sort of unspoken condition tucked in-between the lines from the very beginning?

Hope as an Obstacle

Here's the thing: Hope should never be an obstacle to your own self-awareness, nor should it ever be a replacement for effective communication. The bottom line is that vegans who choose to swoon alongside nonvegans have two clear options: One is to come to terms with the fact that the relationship into which you wish to enter with a nonvegan could very well end up being a relationship which will always be with a nonvegan. The other is to be honest with yourself about what you think you can -- or can't -- live with and to pile your expectations excruciatingly clearly on the table early on. This doesn't mean that change won't or can't happen, but it's a good earnest and authentic starting point in terms of keeping things as uncomplicated as they can be. Is it any sort of guarantee that things will remain uncomplicated? Of course not! We're talking about relationships, after all. If you truly cannot come to terms with the first option, though, and then don't feel "comfortable" following through with the second option -- to lay it all out on the table for discussion early on, I can guarantee you a whole heap of complications. And you know what? Those complications aren't just in terms of juggling a vegan-nonvegan romance, but involve problems reflecting a lack of the sort of basic communication needed to juggle any sort of relationship at all. Think about it.

What This Vegan Eats

Some of the foodstuff going around in my apartment this past month:

Oven-roasted artichokes on iceberg and spinach, with tomatoes, avocado and broccoli slaw. with sundried tomato and roasted garlic dressing.

Pho-ish broth, shiitakes, baby bok choi, nappa cabbage, red bell peppers and udon noodles with pan-fried tamari-sprinkled tofu, mung bean sprouts, shredded basil, a line of hoisin and a line of sriracha and a couple of lime wedges.

Oven-roasted collards with crushed garlic and Cheddar Daiya. Seitan chunks and pickles on an organic kamut bun with ketchup and mustard.

Mushroom-lentil stew with tomatoes, turnip, carrots and broccoli. Seasoned with smoked paprika and dried chipotle, dill weed and parsley.

Beets (oven-roasted w/balsamic vinegar and a touch of sea salt), fiddleheads, medium-firm tofu (marinated in a touch of organic tamari and sesame oil, dredged through multigrain flour and 12-spice seasoning, pan-fried in olive oil), ketchup w/a dab of blackstrap molasses.

Iceberg, red bell peppers, tomatoes, tofu marinated in a sweet onion/lime dressing, slivered almonds, hemp seed and a couple of Brazil nuts.

Tofu with turmeric, parsley, black pepper, a pinch of black salt and some nutritional yeast, scrambled with red onions, zucchini and corn. In the dish, fava beans cooked with tomato, cumin and a bit of lemon juice.

Iceberg, cucumbers, tomatoes, shredded purple cabbage, radishes, organic carrots, red bell peppers, walnuts, ancient grains Gardein chunks, scallions, hemp seed and a drizzle of sweet onion/lime dressing.
Sautéed green/wax beans, steamed baby Brussels sprouts & baby carrots, baked sweet potato and pan-fried multigrain Gardein chunks.

Romaine, tomatoes, purple cabbage, mushrooms, steamed broccoli, hemp seed, black sesame seed, a drizzle of sweet onion/lime dressing. Corn on the cob w/sriracha.

Red onion, Gardein chunks, shanghai choy, red bell pepper, organic heirloom rainbow carrots and mung bean sprouts stir-fried with Massaman curry paste. Rice noodles.

Into the blender went: A banana, three huge strawberries, an organic carrot, a plum tomato, a bosc pear, a large collard leaf, a heaping tablespoon of almond butter, a teaspoon of hemp seed, half a small pink grapefruit, a cup of frozen blueberries, half a cup of blueberry soy yogurt.

Steamed collards tossed with a sweet onion/lime vinaigrette, steamed carrots, oven-baked Gardein patty, good old reheated beans w/ tomato sauce.

Potato-onion whole wheat perogies, beet stems & greens sautéed with olive oil and crushed garlic. Green/yellow beans and baby carrots tossed in lime vinaigrette.

Pho-ish broth, shiitakes, baby bok choi, nappa cabbage, red bell peppers and udon noodles.

Aren't You Weaned Yet?

Chinese artist Liu Qiang currently has a work called "29h59'59" showing at 798 Art District in Beijing, China. The photo's gone viral in animal rights circles. It would be interesting to find out more about how or why the sculpture was created. Whether inadvertently or not, it's become a powerful piece of imagery symbolizing our exploitation of others.

Shame, Shame: Vegan Stereotypes

A friend sent me a link earlier today to a brief interview on the Blisstree website (“How to Go Vegan Without Getting Weird”) with one of the two women who run a fairly new site called Vegan Housewives. The site features product reviews, recipes, crafts and a lot of bright Instagram-y faux-retro photos bringing to mind all things Sarah Kramer. I haven't actually checked it out all much except to click on a few links to bright and colourful things that aren't bright and colourful ads. In the interview with Vegan Housewives co-founder Kourtney Campbell, an unfortunate false dichotomy about vegans is set up immediately and it's this in particular which caught my attention.

The piece starts off by asserting that mainstream media presents a false dichotomy of sorts by perpetuating that there are only “two kinds of eaters: normal ones, and…vegans”. To dispel this, though, another false dichotomy is in turn set up, pitting the lumping together of almost every vegan stereotype imaginable versus what gets called “stealth” veganism:

[V]eganism still gets depicted as crazy, restrictive, unhealthy, unnatural, and for weird, crunchy hippies. But in fact, there are many stealth vegans among us, proving that you can go vegan without turning into a crusty, twigs-and-bark eating social outcast.

On the surface, one could shrug this off thinking that there's nothing wrong with pointing out that not all vegans fit into such an extreme stereotype (after all, we don't), but the thing is that in this either/or that's presented to readers, the “or” ends up driving home a truly confusing message about what it means to be vegan.

According to this piece and according to Kourtney Campbell, the idea of presenting vegans in a positive manner and as existing outside of the “tie-dye and dreadlocks” stereotype--presenting them as coming in all styles--can indeed be done. In fact, the implication is that Vegan Housewives site dodges that stereotype and that in doing so becomes so cool that even those who aren't vegan still read it. In fact, we're told that the site's other co-founder, Katie Charos, isn't even vegan herself. (That's one way to dodge vegan stereotypes, I guess!)

Campbell then goes on to explain in a weird and convoluted manner the sort of vegan she isn't (and the sort of vegan she thinks other vegans shouldn't be). To do this, she begins by (predictably) comparing veganism to religion. She bemoans how “other 'Christians' portray themselves with such hatred towards other people [...] just because they live a way they disagree with” and talks about how upsetting it is to her that those hateful Christians drive people away from Christianity in disgust. In case you're wondering where this is headed, wonder no more: The parallel Campbell proceeds to draw isn't to that old familiar stereotype of the proselytizing and judgmental vegan who (gasp gasp gasp!) has the audacity to voice aloud that using others is in any way wrong. No, Campbell compares her hateful Christians and the damage she sees them as doing to vegans who are so, so “extreme” that they actually--perhaps scandalously?--inquire in restaurants about whether their food was cooked in or alongside animal ingredients.

I know a lot of vegans that interrogate restaurants. Some even go as far as to ask if meat has ever been cooked in the pans or if you use a different part of the kitchen for the vegan food, etc. When I see this, I immediately think “this makes restaurants NOT want to cater to a vegan lifestyle.” If all vegans are this difficult, then why in the world would we ever want to serve them? And I would really like to know how an animal is being harmed by using the same utensils that were used to cook a non-vegan meal.

So according to Campbell, vegans adopting a don't ask/don't tell policy when it comes to finding out if that little bit of grease on their roll comes from a slaughtered sentient being's body is the main way to go about getting restaurants to “want to cater to a vegan lifestyle”. Basically, ignoring that what you're eating at that restaurant may contain some quantity of animal ingredients is the only way for a vegan to get restaurants to prepare food suitable to be eaten by vegans. Given that PETA's Bruce Friedrich and Vegan Outreach's Matt Ball have both chastised vegans for asking about animal ingredients in restaurants, it's no surprise that yet another so-called vegan would follow suit in this shaming others who merely seek to inform themselves so that they can avoid animal products. Stating that restaurants will only cater to vegans if vegans loosen up about consuming animal products, though? Really?

As for Campbell's sarcastically asking for evidence of how an animal was harmed if a utensil that's possibly covered in animal fat or secretions is used to handle and contaminate food otherwise free of animal products, I think that she's missing the point about veganism and what it means to reject animal exploitation and to avoid consuming avoidable animal products. Deliberately consuming reasonably avoidable animal products is just not vegan. Period. I mean, using her logic, one could argue that it's extreme for vegans to question whether part of a deer left on the roadside after having been struck by a car was used in their tempeh burger. Although she tosses the word “cruelty” around, Campbell admits to having gradually adopted a “vegan diet” for health reasons, so it's not difficult to see why she'd find it odd that someone would not want to eat food that's touched parts of other animals' flesh or bodily fluids. But does this give her the right to shame others who don't want to eat that food?

I remember years ago how an ex had been questioned about my veganism by a friend who was hosting a barbecue to which we'd been invited. I think my ex had mentioned that there was no need to worry about me and that I'd just bring something to eat that needn't sit on the grill. His friend asked what the big deal would be in having food which had been cooked on or alongside ground meat. Without skipping a beat, my ex asked:

“Do you find the idea of eating feces revolting?”

“Well, yeah.”

“What about eating something cooked on something that had just been covered in feces?”

The conversation ended. I got a chuckle out of how he'd handled it, crudely--yet effectively--comparing one form of revulsion (e.g. stemming from moral reasons) to another. The comparison obviously doesn't apply for all vegans and it is quite a bit more nuanced than that. But to some, myself included, the idea of biting down into a piece of flesh that once belonged to a living someone is really no different than the idea of biting into something covered with a little bit less of that someone's body, and I'd no sooner voluntarily do either than I would if feces were substituted for the animal flesh. If that makes me extreme of difficult, then so be it.

Maybe in Kourtney Campbell's world, good vegans are those who shut up about veganism and who willingly opt to ignore animal products in their food (i.e. those who are stealthy enough to pass themselves off as non-vegan). She says in the interview, after all that she “honestly [doesn't] think that at first sight anyone would know what kind of lifestyle [she chooses]” and that this “is kind of nice”. Bad vegans, on the other hand, are those who speak up for animals and who aren't ashamed to establish and defend their own ethical boundaries when it comes to their personal animal consumption. They stick out rather than appearing to fall in line with status quo by blending in. The truth is, though, that Campbell's not even attempting to argue the best way to change that status quo. She makes it clear that not being a stealthy vegan is tantamount to “pushing” veganism on others and that she wants no part of that.

Kourtney Campbell and Katie Charos might think that someone like me who has the gall to ask about whether there's pig grease on my lentil burger is pushy; they may view as negative my criticizing their shaming of vegans who actually take veganism seriously. But from a website which misleads its readership into thinking that it's actually written and maintained by two vegans when it's not, this isn't all that surprising. In the end, what matters to me is not whether being consistent in my avoidance of consuming animals is mocked and mischaracterized by other self-described vegans who choose to be inconsistent. In the end, what matters to me is that I not provide demand for further exploitation and that I make it clear that I take not consuming others seriously. That I may not be stealthy is less a concern to me than my worry that vegans are actually out there right now actively perpetuating speciesism, and that this speciesism is lulling people into thinking that there's anything right in continuing to use other animals as things existing for human use.

Thanks, but No Thanks!

Never Mind a Slippery Slope: Someone Cut the Brake Lines!

As far as exploring issues concerning animal ethics goes these past several weeks, The New York Times has been less of a trail-blazer and more akin to a drunk wandering home down a dark road, occasionally stumbling into the ditch when squinting at approaching headlights. Seriously. Between columns by its non-vegan writers weaving misinformation and assumptions into messages to the paper's readers about how difficult it is to go vegan and more recently, articles raising eating plants as a notable concern within the context of the overall question of ethical consumption. "Inquiring into justifications for consuming vegetal beings thus reconceived, we reach one of the final frontiers of dietary ethics," wrote Michael Marder, while at the same time, The New York Times' Ariel Kaminer, writer of its column "The Ethicist", was inviting people to step up to the plate to present their best arguments to justify that the consumption of the flesh of other animals could somehow be moral. A contest was launched for one and all, it was, and if not for the sad reality of the matter at hand, it would be all too easy to just write it off as an unfortunate farce. Sadder, still, is that Kaminer trivialized the notion that choosing not to consume other animals could, in fact, be an ethical stance to consider.

Was There an Elephant in The New York Times' Lobby?

Recently, in response to this contest as it neared its conclusion, a number of scholars, physicians and writers came together to sign a letter to The New York Times to express just how wrongheaded the whole enterprise was from the ground up, noting that with one exception, the panel of judges picked was mostly comprised of men who make their living and reputations defending the so-called "humane" use of other animals.

There is an important debate to be had about the ethics of killing and eating animals. But this is not the way to have it. Honest ethical inquiry begins with the question, “How should we live?” or “What should I or we do about ‘X’?” It does not begin with a predetermined conclusion, then work backwards for justification. To throw down a rhetorical gauntlet–”Defend X as a practice”– is not to open up an ethical conversation; it is to build closure into the inquiry, and to stack the deck from the outset.

And that was, in fact, the problem with this contest. It was set up by taking as a given that other animals are ours to use and that those who use them needed a forum to voice their justification for continuing to do so. The best justification coughed up would receive the nods of approval of the who's who of those who champion the idea that conscientious consumerism can--and in some cases should--indeed include the enslavement and slaughter of other sentient beings. The New York Times' well-intentioned readership could emit a collective sigh of relief. After all, even many who are in fact vegan and who do regard themselves as animal advocates sometimes end up applauding these popular and privileged humans as somehow making an actual difference in terms of their respective fans coming to know and to accept that we owe other animals a lot more than to treat them as things.

And the Winner Is...

A few days ago it was announced that Ariel Kaminer would be stepping down from her position as columnist for "The Ethicist". (Aw, really??) This morning, the contest's finalists were announced, including its recipient of the most votes and its hand-picked winner. I don't have much to say about PETA's Ingrid Newkirk's piece, called "I'm About to Eat Meat for the First Time in 40 Years". It's about lab-grown meat and I'll let you take a read yourselves, and then ask you to have a look at Alice Springs Vegan Society co-founder Jeff Perz's essay "The Case Against Test Tube Meat" to see where Newkirk's got it all wrong. The veritable winner, though? He who received the symbolic bobbing-in-unison of the heads of Jonathan Safran-Foer, Mark Bittman, Michael Pollan, Peter Singer and Andrew Light? Some environmental studies instructor at a place in North Carolina called Warren Wilson College.

Jay Bost describes himself as a former vegetarian and then vegan who decided to go back to consuming animal products. Claiming that the issue weighs on him constantly, Bost insists that "[t]he reasons [he] became a vegetarian, then a vegan and then again a conscientious meat-eater were all ethical". Bost's emphasis in his short piece is no surprise considering that his work revolves around environmental studies and the only two times he brings up animal sentience are strictly with reference to the killing of a "sentient being". Bost sugarcoats the question of actually using and enslaving other animals by calling doing so "raising meat". Animal flesh and secretions are products, and producing these products are no different to him than growing plant-based foodstuff. With this in mind, he presents what he call his main argument as the following:

[E]ating meat raised in specific circumstances is ethical; eating meat raised in other circumstances is unethical. Just as eating vegetables, tofu or grain raised in certain circumstances is ethical and those produced in other ways is unethical.

An animal is a plant is an animal to Bost, in this sense. He seems to present it as a given that use in and of itself is somehow not an ethical concern, but that how the final product comes to be is the only thing worthy of consideration. Animals are merely machines, sometimes proving to be more efficient according to the environment in which they are used to produce useful calories and protein for human consumption. He goes on to say that

If “ethical” is defined as living in the most ecologically benign way, then in fairly specific circumstances, of which each eater must educate himself, eating meat is ethical; in fact NOT eating meat may be arguably unethical.

Once cannot help but wonder, then, using this narrow interpretation and definition of what is indeed "ethical" whether Bost would agree that where human overpopulation is concerned, perhaps cannibalism could be seen as a viable option and whether perhaps humans not opting to consume other humans "may be arguable unethical". If this seems an oversimplification, it should be pointed out that totally side-stepping the question of what's in fact involved when we use other animals as machines existing for human use is an even more ludicrous oversimplification when it comes to attempting to argue any sort of justification to use them.

His two sole references to sentience are token at best and Bost writes sentience off in the end, winning this contest by asserting that consuming other animals is indeed ethical if 1) we keep in mind that "all life (including us!) is really just solar energy temporarily stored in an impermanent form" (which brings me back to wondering if Bost would extend this to our consumption of other humans in areas horribly overpopulated), 2) be "compassionate" and "choose ethically raised food, vegetable, grain and/or meat" (again, not presenting any sort of case for how it could be deemed ethical to enslave and slaughter another sentient being, other than his aforementioned environmentally-concerned presentation of other animals as efficient energy conversion machines for humans) and 3) that we "give thanks".

I always scratch my head at this whole business of trying to justify the torture and killing of another being by emphasizing gratitude and the act of expressing this gratitude. I mean, really? To whom is this gratitude expressed? To the animal whose life was hijacked and taken from her? To the offspring torn from her so that we can drink her secretions? Would it not be ludicrous to posit that if someone were to enslave another human being and to torture and then kill her for sheer pleasure that it might somehow be more ethical or excusable to have done so if the torturer or killer gave thanks? But we live in a world where we view other animals as existing for human use. Bost's short piece takes this as a given. The New York Times' contest in "The Ethicist" took it as a given, as well, and its panel of expert judges have also expressed this through their own writings and work. So I'm left going back to my original quote from the letter signed by 59 scholars, writers, artists and physicians to protest the contest and to explain why the whole thing was a farce from the word "go":

There is an important debate to be had about the ethics of killing and eating animals. But this is not the way to have it. Honest ethical inquiry begins with the question, “How should we live?” or “What should I or we do about ‘X’?” It does not begin with a predetermined conclusion, then work backwards for justification. To throw down a rhetorical gauntlet–”Defend X as a practice”– is not to open up an ethical conversation; it is to build closure into the inquiry, and to stack the deck from the outset.

There is indeed an important debate to be had. What The New York Times attempted to do (and accomplished) was no more than a sensationalist and lopsided poke at an issue which is trendy and talked around a fair deal in mainstream media, but ever so rarely addressed clearly, consistently, coherently and in earnest. It was no surprise, but was and is a true shame, nonetheless.

Copy of the "Letter to the New York Times: The Ethics of the Ethicist"

Writer and historian James McWilliams posted this letter on his Eating Plants blog yesterday, written--and signed--in response to a horribly wrongheaded and tacky contest recently initiated by the New York Times' "Ethicist" columnist Ariel Kaminer.

It was announced yesterday that Kaminer will be leaving her post as Ethicist columnist and returning to the New York Times' metro desk. Her final column will run this weekend and a replacement will soon be found. According to editor Hugo Lindgren:

While her official goodbye column closed this week and will run in the April 29th issue, she will unveil the results of her overwhelmingly popular 'ethics of meat eating' writing competition (which set a new impossibly high standard in reader-engagement projects) in the May 6 issue and then will close the cover story for the May 13 issue. That story could well be one of the biggest of the year for us.

Is the timing of her departure a coincidence given all of the recent negative publicity? Perhaps. Perhaps not. If this contest is what the New York Times' editor sees as setting "a new impossibly high standard in reader-engagement projects", I'm almost afraid to see how low they'll go next.

Below is a copy of the letter shared by McWilliams and which is being widely circulated this week. Please do share it.

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What follows is a letter signed by 59 scholars, artists, writers, and physicians (including me) who disagree with the motivation and spirit of the New York Times Magazine’s “Defending Your Dinner” contest. Please spread this letter far and wide. We very much hope it will be published.

Editor, The New York Times Magazine

Dear Editor,

We are a diverse group of scholars, researchers, and artists from such disciplines as philosophy, women’s studies, sociology, law, political theory, psychology, and literary studies, writing to take sharp issue with the Magazine’s decision to run a “Defending Your Dinner” contest.

Do ethical vegetarians, a growing but still quite small percentage of the population, pose such a “threat” to the meat and dairy industries that the Times Magazine must now invite its millions of readers to shout them down? Is the point of this contest really to open up honest debate about the meat industry, or is the point, rather, to close it down?

We find it disturbing that the Magazine would organize such a one-sided contest, and moreover that Ariel Kaminer should introduce it with such frivolity. “Ethically speaking, vegetables get all the glory,” Kaminer writes, caricaturing vegans as members of a “hard-core inner circle” who have “dominated the discussion.” With her very breeziness (“Bon appetit!”), Kaminer seems intent on trivializing the warrant for ethical veganism. A more serious-minded critic would have given at least cursory attention to the empirical basis of the position, namely, the known facts about animal cognition and the unspeakable suffering that farmed animals endure so that they can end up as meat on our plates.

First, there has been an explosion of scientific research in recent decades showing beyond any doubt that many other species besides our own are emotionally and cognitively complex. Farmed animals are capable of a wide range of feelings and experiences, including empathy and the ability to intuit the interior states of others. The evidence suggests that they experience violence and trauma to their bodies as agonizingly as we do.

Second, most people are now aware of the horrific cruelty and violence that goes on behind the locked doors of the meat industry. Billions of cows, chickens, pigs, turkeys, geese, ducks, and aquaculture fish suffer each year in abominable conditions, then are brutally slaughtered, many of them while they are still fully or partially conscious. Such so-called factory farming accounts for 99% of the meat consumed in our society. The mass slaughter of oceanic fish, meanwhile, is so catastrophic to marine life that even the Fisheries Centre of the University of British Columbia (the academic arm of the Canadian fishing industry) has frankly compared today’s commercial fishing campaigns to “wars of extermination.”

These and other facts have led a majority of contemporary moral philosophers who have studied the question to conclude that killing animals in order to eat them is not a morally defensible human interest, certainly not in a society such as ours, where vegan alternatives are widely available.

Even on purely prudential grounds, i.e. human self-interest, meat finds no rational justification. Numerous studies have shown meat-based diets to be associated with myriad negative health outcomes, including higher risks of cardiovascular disease and cancer (to name but two). Meanwhile, animal agriculture has proven to be an ecological and public health catastrophe, poisoning human water supplies, destroying vast tracts of the rainforests of Latin America, causing soil erosion, and creating dangerous new pathogens like Avian Flu and Mad Cow Disease. Animal agriculture is also one of the leading sources of global warming gas emissions.

Given these and many other facts demonstrating the nightmarish consequences of the meat industry for humans and nonhumans alike, why has the Magazine invited its readers to defend that industry, their essays to be judged chiefly by proponents of “humane” meat eating?

Kaminer implies that she has assembled the most judicious and meat-averse line-up of judges, a “murderer’s row” that will be hard to persuade of the case for eating meat. But is that true? Michael Pollan promotes Joel Salatin and other organic meat producers. Mark Bittman publishes meat recipes. Peter Singer has consistently defended, in principle, the killing of nonhuman beings for human purposes (provided that it be done “painlessly”). Jonathan Safran Foer, in his otherwise admirable book “Eating Animals,” defends small animal farms and backs away from open advocacy of vegetarianism. Only Andrew Light seems to hold a position that finds no ethical justification for meat eating as such.

So the contest’s overt bias (“Tell Us Why It’s Ethical to Eat Meat”) is compounded by its pretense with respect to the judging. Kaminer might instead have tapped any of dozens if not hundreds of prominent scholars, writers, critics, and well-informed activists who unequivocally oppose meat production for ethical reasons. The fact that she did not tells us everything we need to know about how seriously Kaminer takes the “ethical” issues at stake in this debate.

Kaminer’s lack of balance reveals itself further in her having stocked her bench solely with men, when there are so many prominent feminist theorists and writers available to provide a critique of our society’s masculine penchant for organized violence against vulnerable populations, whether against women and girls, foreign peoples, or other species.

There is an important debate to be had about the ethics of killing and eating animals. But this is not the way to have it. Honest ethical inquiry begins with the question, “How should we live?” or “What should I or we do about ‘X’?” It does not begin with a predetermined conclusion, then work backwards for justification. To throw down a rhetorical gauntlet–”Defend X as a practice”– is not to open up an ethical conversation; it is to build closure into the inquiry, and to stack the deck from the outset.

Signed*,

Karla Armbruster, Ph.D., Professor of English, Webster University

Anurima Banerji, Ph.D., Assistant Professor, Department of World Arts and Cultures, UCLA

George Bates, DVM, Associate Professor of Veterinary Medical Technology at Wilson College

Kimberly Benston, Ph.D., Francis B. Gummere Professor of English, Haverford College

Susan Benston, M.D., Visiting Assistant Professor of Writing, Haverford College

Chris Bobel, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Women’s Studies, University of Massachusetts, Boston

Carl Boggs, Ph.D., Professor of Political Science, National University

G.A. Bradshaw, Ph.D., Director of the Kerulos Center & President of the Trans-Species Institute

Thomas Brody, Ph.D., Staff Scientist, National Institutes of Health, Bethesda, Maryland

Matthew Calarco, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Philosophy, California State University, Fullerton

Jodey Castricano, Ph.D., Associate Professor Critical Studies, University of British Columbia (Okanagan Campus)

Elizabeth Cherry, Ph.D., Assistant Professor of Sociology, Manhattanville College

Sue Coe, Artist (represented by Galerie St. Etienne, New York City)

Susana Cook, Playwright (New York City)

Ellen F. Crain, M.D., Ph.D., Professor of Pediatrics, Albert Einstein College of Medicine

William Crain, Ph.D., Professor of Psychology, The City College of New York

Karen Davis, Ph.D., President of United Poultry Concerns

Maneesha Deckha, LL.M., Associate Professor, Faculty of Law, University of Victoria (Canada)

Margo De Mello, Ph.D., Lecturer, Central New Mexico Community College

Josephine Donovan, Ph.D., Professor Emerita of English, University of Maine

George Eastman, Ed.D., Ph.D., Professor of Psychology, Berklee College of Music

Stephen F. Eisenman, Ph.D., Professor of Art History, Northwestern University

Barbara Epstein, Ph.D., Professor, History of Consciousness Department, University of California at Santa Cruz

Amy Fitzgerald, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Sociology, Anthropology and Criminology, University of Windsor (UK)

Gary L. Francione, J.D., Distinguished Professor of Law, Rutgers University Law School-Newark

Carol Gigliotti, Ph.D., Faculty, Emily Carr University, Vancouver, BC (Canada)

Elizabeth A. Gordon, M.F.A., Instructor of English, Fitchburg State University

Roger Gottlieb, Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy, Worcester Polytechnic Institute

Michelle Graham, M.A., Lecturer, Department of Writing, Literature & Publishing, Emerson College

Kathy Hessler, J.D., LL.M., Clinical Professor & Director, Animal Law Clinic, Center for Animal Law Studies, Lewis & Clark Law School

Laura Janara, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Department of Political Science, University of British Columbia (Canada)

Victoria Johnson, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Sociology, University of Missouri

Melanie Joy, Ph.D., Professor, University of Massachusetts, Boston

Joseph J. Lynch, Ph.D., Professor, Philosophy Department, California Polytechnic State University

John T. Maher, Adjunct Professor of Animal Law, Touro Law Center

Bill Martin, Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy, DePaul University

Atsuko Matsuoka, Ph.D., Associate Professor, School of Social Work, York University (Canada)

Timothy M. McDonald, M.F.A., Assistant Professor of Art, Framingham State University

Jennifer McWeeny, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Philosophy, John Carroll University

James McWilliams, Ph.D., Associate Professor, History, Texas State University

Helena Pedersen, Ph.D., Research Fellow, Faculty of Education and Society, Malmö University (Sweden)

Steven Rayshick, Ph.D., Professor of English and Humanities, Quinsigamond Community College

Carrie Rohman, Ph.D., Assistant Professor of English, Lafayette College

John Sanbonmatsu, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Philosophy, Worcester Polytechnic Institute

Kira Sanbonmatsu, Ph.D., Professor of Political Science, Rutgers University

Richard H. Schwartz, Ph.D., Professor Emeritus, Mathematics, College of Staten Island

Michael Selig, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Emerson College

Jonathan Singer, Doctoral Student, DePaul University

John Sorenson, Ph.D., Professor and Chair, Department of Sociology, Brock University (Canada)

H. Peter Steeves, Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy, DePaul University

Gary Steiner, Ph.D., John Howard Harris Professor of Philosophy, Bucknell University

Marcus Stern, M.F.A., Lecturer in Dramatic Arts, Harvard University

Deborah Tanzer, Ph.D., Psychologist and Author

Susan Thomas, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Gender and Women’s Studies, and Political Science, Hollins University

Gray Tuttle, Ph.D., Leila Hadley Luce Assistant Professor of Modern Tibetan Studies, Columbia University

Richard Twine, Ph.D., Department of Sociology, Lancaster University (UK)

Zipporah Weisberg, Doctoral Candidate, Programme in Social and Political Thought, York University (Canada)

Tony Weis, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Department of Geography, The University of Western Ontario (Canada)

Richard York, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Sociology and Environmental Studies, Director of Graduate Studies for Sociology, University of Oregon

What This Vegan's Been Eating

To put a new spin on what's otherwise just a bunch of photos of vegan grub I've ended up making and eating and that I post monthly, I think that moving forward I'll attempt to provide an estimated cost for the dishes in the photos I'll share. Tara Parker-Pope's recent column in the New York Times may have perpetuated the myth that making vegan fare is complicated and expensive, but those of us for whom it's old hat know otherwise and should try to ensure that nobody considering going vegan buys into that sort of misinformation.

For now, though:

Phony pho: Shiitake mushrooms, shanghai choy, organic soybean sprouts, organic tofu (marinated in organic tamari & panfried), enoki mushrooms, pho paste, red onion, cilantro, lime, sriracha, hoisin sauce.

Romaine, orange bell peppers, red onions, pumpkin seed & ground flax, roasted garlic/sundried tomato dressing. Oven-roasted baby Brussels sprouts & heirloom rainbow carrots. Gardein "chicken" strips.

Dried mushrooms and kombu simmered gently with doenjang and gochujang. Tofu, nori, baby spinach, nappa cabbage, enoki mushrooms and udon noodles.

Kale with tahini, nooch, garlic and toasted black sesame seeds. Heirloom rainbow carrots, portobello mushrooms, Gardein "tips", spicy Thai basil seasoning.

Gardein, oven-roasted asparagus, oven-roasted radishes, blanched spinach tossed w/soya sauce, sesame oil, sesame seed, crushed garlic & sugar.

Garlic-ginger organic tofu, brown rice with baby bok choy, mushrooms, carrots, onions, zucchini, sesame and a drizzle of leftover soy-gochujang sauce.


Soup seasoned with Korean soybean & red pepper pastes & kombu. Yuba, shiitake and enoki mushrooms, nappa cabbage, mung bean sprouts.

Organic garlicky tofu, marinated in tamari, rolled in whole grain flour and pan-fried in olive oil. Almonds, cherry tomatoes, chunks of hot banana peppers. Caesar salad with the dressing from New American Vegan.

Organic tofu & soybean sprouts stir-fried with sesame oil, tamari and crushed garlic, tossed with udon noodles and sprinkled with toasted black sesame seeds and Sriracha.

Whole wheat pita with salsa, Daiya (mozza and cheddar), orange bell peppers, red onion, crushed garlic and soy "bacon" bits.

Pinto/black bean chipotle chili with red lentils and cracked wheat. Orzo with organic baby spinach, dried orange peel, garlic and smoked paprika.

Chickpea and Avocado Ceviche on baby spinach, oven-roasted radishes and asparagus and a couple of strawberries.

Spinach, orange peppers, red onion, sesame seed, ground flax, sweet Russian dressing. Gardein strips sauteed with red onion, smoky soy bits, spinach and organic Vegenaise in a whole wheat wrap.


Soba noodle and kimchi soup (more noodly than soupy).

Brown rice with adzuki beans. Clockwise from top: Soy/sesame/gochujang dipping sauce (w/garlic, scallions & sugar), pan-fried kombu, blanched rappini pan-fried w/garlic & Korean chili powder, spicy kelp/bamboo shoots, blanched baby spinach tossed w/sesame/sugar/garlic/soy, daikon & mini cucumber marinated in rice wine vinegar/sesame/sugar, kimchi and pan-fried tofu.

Green lentil and spinach soup with spicy Indian seasonings, mandarin oranges and minced cilantro.

Hummus w/toasted black sesame seed, hot banana peppers and asparagus on whole wheat pita, grilled and drizzled w/sriracha. Token lonely oven-roasted radish.

Kale with tahini, nutritional yeast, garlic & a pinch of salt. Slaw tossed with apples, rice wine vinegar, toasted sesame oil, sugar, crushed garlic and toasted black sesame seeds.


P.S. The next time someone tells you that they'd go vegan, but don't want to restrict their food options, or that they've gone vegan but are always hungry, tell 'em to drop me a line.

"The Challenge of Going Vegan" (as Explained by a Non-Vegan)

It's been a while since I've thought of Tara Parker-Pope, a health/food writer for the New York Times. She last caught my attention back in the summer of 2009 when her "Wellness" column featured a guest piece by by Mark Bittman, who shared how he had suddenly become protein deficient from only eating animal products after 6 pm. According to advice received from a purportedly well-credentialed nutritionist (who had obviously neglected to read any research concerning protein after 1980), Bittman wasn't just not eating enough protein, but wasn't eating enough so-called "complete" proteins. (Note: The theory of protein combining--aka the "protein myth"--has long since been nixed.) Although I haven't been keeping track of Parker-Pope's work, I have been discussing food ethics these past few weeks with an interesting non-vegan friend who does, and it was he who sent me a link to her most recent column ("The Challenge of Going Vegan").

As far as I know, Tara Parker-Pope isn't vegan. Also, as far as I know, she has no immediate plans to go vegan. So why would she write a column about the supposed challenge of going vegan? Why not, really? It's a trendy topic for foodies to kick around these days and in Parker-Pope's case, she really does end up giving it what ultimately feels like a not-so-friendly kick. Her focus is unsurprisingly on food and one is left speculating whether Parker-Pope is 1) limiting her discussion of veganism to its dietary aspect, or 2) conflating strict vegetarianism with veganism (since "going vegan" isn't restricted to what you do or don't eat). Either way, what does Parker-Pope have to say about shuffling animal products out of one's diet?

Eatin' Vegan is So Hard!!

Parker-Pope assures her readers from the very beginning that going vegan is hard. It leaves you with a mess of "physical, social and economic challenges" unless you are wealthy enough to have someone with special culinary qualifications to cook for you. Indeed, she tells us that it is a "struggle" to go vegan. Your friends and family will be "harsh" with you, and giving up your beloved dairy foods for their apparently necessary substitutes will "shock your taste buds". It's a meat eater's world according to her first token authority, an academic whose research focuses specifically on people's acceptance of meat substitutes. (Sheesh! Two paragraphs into this column, I'm even starting to think that veganism may very well be too daunting for me to handle.)

Parker-Pope does admit that the number of people in the US who self-identify as not eating meat and of those who self-identify as vegan is impressive, citing a 2008 Vegetarian Times poll. However, she's also quick to point out that regardless of obvious public interest, we really have no way to tell how many people's attempts to go vegetarian or vegan ultimately end up as failed experiments. A token vegan-wannabe student is brought up to illustrate this, claiming that she can only "manage" [to eat "plant-based" food] around "75 percent of the time" since there are not enough options on her campus, apparently no grocery stores within a 20-mile radius from where she lives, and since the processed vegan meat substitutes are more expensive than their animal-based counterparts. Parker-Pope tells us that this student needs "vegan specialty foods for cooking". Is that what they're calling grains, legumes, nuts, seeds and produce these days--vegan specialty foods? Or am I missing something? Also, if you think that those around you--your loved ones--are going to be anything ranging from supportive to apathetic, Parker-Pope's token vegan shares a story about her family's condescending reaction to her gift of vegan donuts to them. Going vegan, in case you weren't sure of her point, is hard.

When Duplicating Fails

Minus a bizarre bit about her token vegan-wannabe's misadventures trying to use miso to stuff pasta shells (which maybe sheds some light on that person's family's reaction to her homemade vegan donuts), much of the rest of Parker-Pope's column is fixated on this assumption that vegans need to replace meat and dairy with fake meat and dairy. Rather than discuss the more recent substitutes which have made their way into the market to win people over (e.g. Daiya and Gardein), Parker-Pope backs up her assumption by bringing in two more authoritative voices--two food-related researchers--to drive home that since humans eat meat and drink the milk of others as early as infancy, the taste and texture of these products become sort of imprinted on our palates and cannot be reproduced effectively. One expert insists that "[a]ny substitute would have to mimic the total sensory experience elicited by meats". The other dismisses non-dairy milks, stating that

[c]onsumers do feel the difference between milk-based and soy-based products. And once their first reference is milk-based products, they tend to reject plant-based products made with oat and soy or other vegetable-based food.

Other attempts to replicate a cheesy flavour using "weird" ingredients like miso, nutritional yeast or blended cashes, Parker-Pope tells us, end up being "overwhelming" for new vegans experimenting with them for the first time. Her continuing message? Say it with me, kids: Although some may persevere, going vegan is really hard.

So Here's the Thing About Habits...

Old habits can indeed be a pain in the arse to change. The thing is that this applies to any significant changes we attempt to make in our lives. When we weigh the idea of going vegan, we're not simply contemplating changing one bad habit like biting our nails or guzzling soda with meals: Going vegan means having to reexamine all of our choices as consumers and to change the way in which we make many of those choices. This can seem a little overwhelming at first, I admit, but doing some initial research (e.g. on hidden animal ingredients) and keeping resources and reference materials--or even a vegan mentor--handy can make the initially overwhelming a lot less daunting. The internet is a great place to start, with websites and apps providing information on animal ingredients abounding (see here and here, for starters). Social networking sites and services like Facebook and Twitter are also good places to seek out basic information, in many cases from just regular old vegans.

... and About Coping with Others

Parker-Pope's token vegan wasn't too far off the mark in describing what many vegans do experience interacting with others. I've written a few times before (e.g. here and here) about how the hardest part of being vegan isn't the process of learning to go vegan. Learning to familiarize yourself with the sources of animal exploitation so that you can more easily avoid them is something that can take a bit of time and patience, but it gets easier. What's often most complicated about being vegan, though, is interacting with others and learning to stay afloat in a mostly non-vegan world. Individuals in our lives may not always react well when we make major changes which reflect a shift in how we view of the world and how we want to live in it moving forward. There are no simple or easy answers to how to go about navigating our relationships with non-vegan loved ones, regardless of any defensiveness or animosity they may display in the face of our ethical choices. The most we can do is communicate our wants and needs clearly while staying true to our choices and sharing with those loved ones why the manner in which we make those choices has changed. Having a support network of other vegans will also certainly help and the truth is that although some of our loved ones may end up becoming antagonistic upon hearing of our having gone vegan, in most cases that antagonism will wane. Issues will invariably arise, but such is the business of this thing we call life, whether we wander through it as vegans or otherwise, no?

On Phonies that Taste Fake

As for this question of substitutes, Parker-Pope ends up making an assumption that I guess you could say she comes by honestly, since so many non-vegan foodies make the same assumption that vegans somehow need plant-based clones of animal-based foods. She also makes an assumption that because meat and dairy analogues don't taste precisely the same as meat and dairy that most people will reject them, bringing in her experts to emphasize this. The funny thing is that every single year, all I see are more and more (i.e. in terms of both number and variety) non-dairy milks and cheese and meat analogues on my store shelves. When I look in people's shopping carts, I see soy and almond milk, tofu dogs and Daiya, sometimes even alongside animal products. Something's obviously working since there's obviously a demand for these products.

It's also worth pointing out that not all vegans (or those who decide to go vegan) crave replicating and continuing to experience the taste of animal products. For some, the association is decidedly not a positive one, so although they may seek out substitutes for convenience or to feed those with whom they co-habitate, it's not really an issue for them if those substitutes aren't exactly like the flesh and secretions of nonhuman animals: In some cases, they prefer that it not be so.

Who Needs a Phony, Anyway?

Although some non-vegan foodies like Mark Bittman have also perpetuated the myth that being vegan involves eating mock meats and other animal product substitutes, the reality is that not all vegans consume them. The reasons whether they do so or not differ. Some prefer to cook with whole foods and have learned to think beyond the meat-starch-vegetable dinner plate of yore. Others (as mentioned above) aren't interested in seeking to replicate either the taste or texture of products they associate with suffering, injustice and death. Then again, there are indeed others who may fall into the camp described by Parker-Pope and who are uninterested in consuming analogues because they don't find their taste and texture convincing--so they just don't use them. It may be surprising to Parker-Pope, but the thing is that vegans don't need substitutes, whether psychologically from having the taste of meat and dairy imprinted on them as infants or for nutritional reasons. We just don't. Presenting that those substitutes aren't up to par or that they're too expensive and that this poses a challenge to those seeking to go vegan smells a little straw-manish, but it would be disingenuous of me to pretend to have expected a non-vegan--even a New York Times columnist like Tara Parker-Pope--to present a reasonable account of what authentically and realistically constitutes a challenge to going vegan. But of course, how would I know?