Vegan Practically

Next week I’ll be a guest in a philosophy graduate seminar my friend and colleague, Samantha, is teaching on philosophy and food. The students will be reading the most recent draft of my paper, “Meat-eating as ideology and ‘meat-eaters’ fragility’,” which I’ve blogged about before. They’re also reading David Foster Wallace’s “Consider the Lobster,” a brilliant essay that I adore. I love discussing my work with other philosophers more than any other audience because philosophers are much more likely to consider the strength of the arguments. And we also welcome objections as opportunities to reflect on our own arguments and views.

My paper is not quite ready for prime time (i.e. submission to a peer review philosophy journal) but it’s close. One thing I added before I sent it to Samantha’s class was a section on objections and replies. I was trained to believe that a philosophy paper is not really complete if it hasn’t got a section where the author has thought through how someone might respond (typically, objections and challenges), outlined the most plausible versions of those responses, and then replied. This is something I really value about philosophy because it forces us to consider objections and take them seriously.

In the paper I suggest that meat-eating is an ideology, that challenges to that ideology trigger a kind of fragility amongst meat-eaters that results in affront and offence, and that these two factors explain why it is so very difficult to have reasonable discussions about reducing or eliminating the use of animal products. What I want to do today is not outline the whole paper, but to focus on the four objections that I consider at the end.

Objection #1: Even if there is vast animal suffering and environmental harm to the planet in factory farming, it’s impossible for anyone to make a difference by refraining from (or reducing) consumption of animal products.

Reply to Objection #1: For this reply, I focus on the “causal impotence problem” that I considered recently in a blog post about making a difference. Rather than going into it in any detail now, I refer you back to that post if you want to know more than the gist, which is that we can indeed make a difference. Doing so requires taking a collective view and mobilizing with others to act together.

Objection #2: Some foods that include animal products have deep cultural or religious meaning or connections to ways of life, and making changes would constitute incalculable losses.

Reply to Objection #2: The driving force behind this argument is the ideological commitment to the view that human interests have priority over any other interests. It’s not clear that there are no reasonable substitute ingredients for foods that have an important place in cultural or religious traditions. Many vegans have successfully re-imagined traditional dishes in ways that are cruelty free.

For example, “pickled fish” has a very strong tradition as part of Good Friday observances in Cape Malay South African cuisine. And yet there are many excellent vegan versions using tofu or cauliflower that are equally as delicious and do not require animal products. And while the Thanksgiving turkey has formed the centrepiece of Thanksgiving dinners in Canada and the United States for a very long time, it’s certainly not the case that Thanksgiving’s very meaning requires roasting and carving a turkey.

Sometimes this argument comes up in the context of Indigenous ways of life, where hunting, trapping, and fishing are integral to the histories and relationships to the land. Here I would point out that these activities are distinct from the main concern raised here, which is the suffering and environmental destruction that industrialized animal agriculture reaps. Since factory farming (land and sea) accounts for 99% of all animal products that humans consume, arguments that focus on it do not necessarily yield conclusions about other forms of animal use and exploitation.

Nevertheless, it is the case that this argument, once again, prioritizes human interests. Recognizing structural injustice against vulnerable populations, there may be an argument for doing so in some contexts. My discussion doesn’t settle that possibility one way or the other. Regardless, most people who consume animal products and who are susceptible to meat-eaters’ fragility in the presence of possible challenges to their choices are not doing so in the context of preserving Indigenous ways of life. 

Objection #3: Not all consumption of animal products is wrong – what about products from humanely-farmed animals (such as eggs from free running chickens or milk from happy cows), or road kill (which would just go to waste), or “freegan” food that might be found through dumpster-diving?

Reply to Objection #3: It’s questionable whether there really are any truly happy dairy cows, given that in order being a productive dairy cow requires being in a constant state of pregnancy and having your calves taken away immediately upon birth so that the milk that was intended for those calves can be extracted and bottled for human consumption. Nevertheless, let’s say for the sake of argument that there are some small-scale operations where the farm animals live happy instead of miserable lives. The simple truth is that, based on current consumer demand for animal products, such enterprises will not be able to feed the world.

What about road kill and dumpster diving? I’ve blogged about that before and explained why I think it’s a terrible objection. I cribbed a great deal of my response to the road kill point from that post. Here, people like to turn vegan arguments against themselves, claiming that anyone who cares about animals should not want road kill to have died in vain (see Bruckner, “Strict Vegetarianism Is Immoral,” 2016).

People with a concern for animals also worry about the fact of so much roadkill. I myself feel horrified every time I see anything dead on the road, whatever size it is. Bruckner notes this point, considering the suggestion that “we should put up fences” to reduce the amount of road kill. He responds that trying to do anything about it would be too financially costly. Note again that the real issue is to find a way not to support factory farming AND to feed the world. For a number of reasons, roadkill seems ill-suited to the task.

First, presumably roadkill is not something desirable that we aim at. We do not wish for our roads effectively to become hunting grounds. We do not, wish to encourage it as a significant source of food. If it became a central part of our diets, then we would be right to extend a higher level of concern than we might already have for animals who die on our roads. Second, are drivers meant to stop, collect up the roadkill, check it for rot or disease, and butcher it? I might see a lot of roadkill, but I see a lot more vehicles. It’s hard to imagine the free-for-all (assuming people were game, which is doubtful). If ought implies can, then the logistics of everyone trying to feed themselves and their families by scavenging for roadkill suggests there is no obligation about it.

And let’s come back to the issue of feeding over seven billion people, and attempting to do that in ways that do not destroy the planet and do not harm and exploit animals. The conclusion that anyone / everyone / everyone who is worried about the harms of factory farming is required to eat roadkill is very far off the mark. Even a systematic approach to collecting, processing, and distributing roadkill will fall very far short, destined only to be a niche cuisine for a relatively small number of people.

Objection #4: The view outlined here is too moderate, requiring us to tip-toe around the feelings of meat-eaters while the planet burns and animals suffer by the billions.

Reply to Objection #4: This objection goes the other way, engaging with the worry that taking meat-eaters’ fragility seriously allows the planet, animals, and those who care about the planet and animals to be held hostage by the feelings of the privileged majority. Philosophers often talk about “affected ignorance” and argue that, in at least some cases, people should be expected to know better. But if (as I argue) the long reach of ideology makes it difficult for people to “know better,” we have to confront the reality of fragility, offence and affront that forecloses reasonable discourse.

Given that this fragility forecloses reasonable discussion, it needs to be taken seriously for strategic reasons. We may or may not want to go as far as some might, by saying that people in the grip of this ideology have an excuse. That possibility warrants further discussion. But in any event there is no denying that the ideology has a strong hold on many, normalizing behaviour that is in fact, based on the strength of the arguments, morally wrong. Rather than being overly moderate, the view proposed is strategic and based in a realistic pragmatism. While it may be frustrating to try to manage fragility, it’s a necessary step along the way.

Those are the four objections that I consider in my paper, and I offer them here today, with my responses.