Vegan Practically

Towards the end of his brilliant essay, “Consider the Lobster,” David Foster Wallace asks a series of questions, among them:

• “Is it not possible that future generations will regard our own present agribusiness and eating practices in much the same way we now view Nero’s entertainments or Aztec sacrifices?”
• “Given the (possible) moral status and (very possible) physical suffering of the animals involved, what ethical convictions do gourmets evolve that allow them not just to eat but to savor and enjoy flesh-based viands (since of course refined enjoyment, rather than just ingestion, is the whole point of gastronomy)?”
• “And for those gourmets who’ll have no truck with convictions or rationales and who regard stuff like the previous paragraph as just so much pointless navel- gazing, what makes it feel okay, inside, to dismiss the whole issue out of hand?”
• “That is, is their refusal to think about any of this the product of actual thought, or is it just that they don’t want to think about it? Do they ever think about their reluctance to think about it?”

Which brings me to the issue of leather shoes. [note that the shoes pictured above are cruelty-free, not leather] If people are open to thinking about these issues at all, they are willing to consider that the pain, suffering, and exploitation of non-human animals in our food production industry is difficult to justify for mere personal taste and preference. It’s hard to deny that fashion is more trivial than food, lacking in even the most remotely convincing arguments about nutritional adequacy, difficulty digesting beans, or even accessibility.

But it turns out that people are more likely to set aside concerns about animal suffering and climate change when it comes to leather footwear, even though there are ample vegan alternatives available. Many people who are strongly opposed to eating beef will not consider forgoing shoes and boots made of cowhide, i.e, leather. And yet most of the animal skin used in the production of these products come straight from the meat industry.

Indeed, the leather industry promotes this narrative as part of its sustainability story: “Leather from cattle, sheep, goat and pig are a by-product of the meat industry. 98% of the leathers are made from these four animals. Farmers do not raise cattle for their hides to turn into leather as the value of a steer/cow hide is generally only approximately 1-2% of the total animal’s value. Farmers raise cattle for their meat or milk with the hide as a by-product that must be turned into another value-added product or eaten. Leather is currently the best way to up-cycle hides and skins from the meat industry; every year it not only saves around 7.3 million tonnes from global landfill, but is versatile enough to be used in a range of products from soft gloves to comfortable footwear, to hard wearing furniture and contemporary clothing.”

But the “good news” is, of course, relative. Reduce (or ultimately eliminate) the meat industry and you will reduce (or eliminate) the need to find ways of minimizing its by-products and yield less of its waste. Leather offers factory farmers an additional revenue stream. Supporting industries that produce leather products is supporting the industrialized production of meat.

Way back in 2008 an article in “The Ethical Wardrobe” column of The Guardian noted that more and more people were attempting to “ethically source” their food. And yet, the author says, “many of these same people will happily buy cheap leather. This makes no sense: if you won’t tuck into a steak that came from a miserable animal, why buy its skin? Given much of the leather we use comes from countries where animal welfare is firmly at the bottom of the list of priorities, don’t imagine your handbag previously led a happy life.”

The same article states that “The softest, most luxurious leather comes from the skin of newborn or even unborn calves, cut prematurely out of their mother’s wombs. Sometimes it will be from the same veal calves whose lives of misery are well documented. Many committed carnivores draw the line at veal: why then wear calfskin?”

Moreover, if the main concern is climate impact, then the farming of ruminants such as cows, sheep, and goats, which along with pigs account for the majority of the leather used globally, ought to be avoided. Cows alone make up 65% of the world’s leather.

I think the most frequent reason people have (second to not giving it a single thought at all), is that leather boots last a lot longer than a steak. Whereas an omnivore consumes animal products daily, someone might reason that they only buy a pair of leather shoes or boots every year or two. I used to “allow” myself one pair of leather ankle boots for quite a few years after I became vegan, reasoning that I couldn’t find an equivalent level of quality, comfort, and style in vegan footwear. I rationalized that that if my boots lasted me several years, the harm was minimal. Indeed, I still have two such pairs in my possession. So I get it. We are attached to our leather. We are convinced that it is a luxurious material of choice for “good” shoes and boots. We don’t typically link it to the harm of factory farming even if that is its primary source.

But vegan footwear options have broadened tremendously over the past decade, and it is difficult to argue that good quality, comfortable, and stylish options are lacking. I wrote a whole post about vegan shoes last year. There I covered everything from fancy designer wear, such as from Matt and Nat or Will’s Vegan Store, to casual everyday shoes, such as from Vessi.

I almost never wear my leather boots anymore, aware as I am that they are literally made from the skin of dead animals who were almost certainly factory farmed. And I will not be replacing them with new leather boots ever again. There are just too many cruelty-free alternatives to justify shopping for leather.

Returning to David Foster Wallace’s list of questions posed above, the one that resonates with me the most is “what makes it feel okay, inside, to dismiss the whole issue out of hand?” This question resonates because I think a lot of people who otherwise find the meat industry abhorrent do dismiss the issue of leather footwear out of hand. Vegetarians are particularly susceptible to this sort of compartmentalization, where the justification must be similar to that which puts brackets around the horrors of the dairy and egg industries. But purchasing leather is providing direct support to the meat industry that produces the cattle, sheep, pigs, and goats that supply it.

Even if someone thinks dairy and eggs are okay because they don’t require killing, the willingness to support the meat industry for a pair of fashionable shoes is a difficult choice to justify. Clearly, like meat, leather requires that an animal be dead. The leather industry, being identical with the meat industry, is equally harmful and destructive. Not questioning the use of leather as the preferred material for “good” shoes and boots is, in effect, not questioning the meat industry.

David Foster Wallace worried about coming off as “shrill and preachy.” Drawing attention to any concerns about animal suffering as a reason for making different choices always runs that risk. It’s easy to dismiss these issues out of hand when the majority thinks that wearing the skin of dead animals is the most natural, indeed sometimes even stylish and luxurious, thing in the world. But it’s worth pausing before buying those cute shoes because, in the end, they are killers.