Vegan Practically

I’ve been reading around quite a bit as I prep to write a new paper. When I say “reading around,” I am referring mostly to philosophy papers on topics in food and animal ethics, mostly as they seem relevant to veganism, meat-eating, animal suffering, and possible moral requirements that facts about animal suffering might yield. Yesterday I read “Potency and Permissibility” by Clayton Littlejohn, which appears in Bramble and Fischer (editors), The Moral Complexities of Eating Meat (2016).

There’s a lot of discussion in the paper about what the author calls “unreflective carnivores”–people who “don’t see any good reason not to order meat in restaurants or buy it in grocery stores” (p. 100). Mostly they don’t think about it, but if pressed, they’ll appeal to the “immense and distinctive pleasures” of eating meat. Despite grouping himself with the unreflective carnivores, Littlejohn considers this line of reasoning (if you can call it reasoning) to be “as confused as it is common.”

If pressed further, a lot of people will say that they’re not in favour of animal suffering, and they don’t deny that animals suffer so that humans can eat meat and other animal products, but in the vast scheme of things their choices don’t make a difference. If what we do makes no difference, then it’s hard to feel motivated to do differently because it’s not going to help any animals. I’m sure we’ve all heard many variations on “the animals I buy were already dead when I arrived at the grocery store” (p. 113) (or the restaurant or the party etc.).

As a philosopher of collective responsibility, I find these sorts of arguments to be frustratingly individualistic, as if it’s impossible to imagine successful collective efforts for significant social change. Also, you don’t have to be a business expert to recognize that if a market for something drastically shrinks, then there will be a corresponding reduction on the production side. Is anyone making VHS tapes or cassettes anymore? I don’t think so. Philosophers here will often consider “the marginal case argument,” and that is what Littlejohn offers in response to this version of the “I can’t make a difference” argument.

Here’s what he says: “Let’s say that every month the factory gets data about the number of chickens sold and will change its production in response to increases or decreases in demand. If, say, demand decreases by one thousand, then one thousand fewer chickens will be produced.” Now, a consumer may then think that there is little chance (1/1000) that their own purchase will be the “triggering event” that either increases or decreases production. But surely that is not the right way to look at it. As Littlejohn puts it (after some more nuanced discussion about expected utility versus actual utility), it’s “a team effort.” It’s not really about who buys “the threshold chicken.” Each of the 999 people preceding the 1000th contributes to the outcome.

Moreover, says Littlejohn, “we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that your behavior as a consumer helps to perpetuate the idea that it’s acceptable for people to treat moral patients as resources to be used for making a profit with little regard to their welfare” (p. 115). Roughly, a moral patient is a being that has interests that carry some sort of moral weight (p. 102), and the idea here is that what we do as consumers helps to “set the moral tone” of our society. In this case, lots of seemingly unreflective carnivores just going about their carnivorous business as if it doesn’t contribute to vast pain, suffering, and exploitation (and when I say “vast,” I mean billions upon billions of animals factory farmed each year) have set the moral tone of nonchalance concerning the lives of animals.

I’m with Littlejohn here in that I think we can and do make a difference. It’s a team effort, which is why making these choices quietly, as if in a vacuum, isn’t always the best way of bringing about change. But that doesn’t mean you need to be strident and in people’s face all the time. It’s a slow process of chipping away at heavy layers of denial and ideology. At least sometimes, however, people will be open to conversations and those are great opportunities.

No one needs to understand the details of the marginal case argument (which aren’t actually all that complicated but sometimes people shut down when you start talking philosophy) to grasp that consumer trends can and do make a difference. If the consumer trend is to support industries engaged in mass slaughter, then that industry will thrive (as it does). If the consumer trends change direction, production of appropriate alternatives will follow. The proliferation of easily available plant-based options at even the most mainstream restaurants and supermarkets has demonstrated this simple fact. If this increase in interest in plant-based options results in a reduction in demand for animal products (we’re allowed to hope and dream), then that will make a difference in harm to animals.

You — yes you! — can make a difference to the lives of animals.