Vegan Practically

One of the great things about writing a blog, which anyone who has ever done it knows that for most of us it’s a labour of love, is that you never know who is reading. And then it is such a delight when someone reaches out in response to a post, whether with a smart comment or just to say they liked it. I am so grateful whenever I hear back from anyone, especially if they got something out of the post but even if they just want me to know that it resonated.

Earlier this month I heard from an old friend and fellow philosopher, Paul Abela, in a comment on the post “Objections and Replies.” I have fond memories of our small but mighty cohort of Philosophy majors in the undergrad program at University of Toronto, Scarborough Campus, in the mid-80s. We congregated between classes at a big round table in the cafeteria throughout the day, drinking too much dreadful coffee, and often moved on to the campus pub after that, where we drank too much dreadful draft beer. It’s hard not to feel nostalgic about that time of life where we were all young and falling in love with philosophy. Paul left such a long and thoughtful comment on the Objections and Replies post (thank you, Paul!) that it and its response warrants a post of its own.

Here’s what Paul said:

“Given your focus on practical veganism, I wonder if another relevant challenge to your view, not contained in the four you offer, is the familiar ‘morally too demanding’ claim. I appreciate this general concern animates much of the paper itself–as you note, Wilson’s 93 paper is a bit of a jump off point for much of your approach. But perhaps beyond the lens of ‘ideology’ and its damping affect on where the real burden of moral justification lies (which rightly should be on the privileged group not the subordinate group), there may be forms of ‘morally too demanding’ that are anchored in our cognitive/physiological evolution.

“I don’t mean this as an invitation to exculpatory reasons for not being moral owing to expectations and drives that somehow are beyond our control. So, nothing on that scale. Heck, I’m a Kantian! More along the lines that recognizes some place (perhaps quite small) for the fact that we are evolved omnivores, our digestive system from beginning to end is attuned to a mixed diet. Likely too our senses that stimulate those systems and the desire mechanisms that operationalize them: for example, I still salivate at Thanksgiving when the house has the smell of turkey despite not eating meat for over 40 years. I imagine many other systems work on similar lines in terms of the desirability of different food types and, as such, create numerous, and cognitively stubborn (that is to say, desires in their origin that are largely unresponsive to higher order cognitive states in their initial signalling) situations where not eating meat can involve something that approaches the supererogatory given the influence of these systems. And perhaps that gives some purchase on why meat eaters seem frustratingly under-motivated in not moving from good argument to changed behaviour. And it might also shine a light on the relatively low numbers of vegans along the lines of the relatively low numbers of those capable of supererogatory action in light of the depth of those evolved mechanisms.

“If that kind of story is even mildly plausible (no doubt with many caveats in play and an acceptable moral theory running in the background that is open to the category of the supererogatory), then failure here of meat eaters to change their behaviour doesn’t seem to be well captured by notions like ‘fragility.’ And if that is the case, then perhaps this line of objection might be one to add to the list.“

As Paul notes, demandingness is a familiar objection in moral philosophy. Most of us encounter it when we first discuss utilitarianism and maximizing consequentialisms in general where the morally right act is the one that has the best outcome (that is, that brings about the most value). In that first encounter, it’s put quite simply as the claim that trying to maximize best outcomes all the time is just too demanding to be a reasonable moral expectation. Advocates of the demandingness objection go quickly from “it’s too demanding” to “we can’t do it” to “if ‘ought implies can,’ then we are not required to do it because we cannot.”

Paul suggests a version of the demandingness objection that isn’t fully exculpatory, but that may play a larger role than my ideology analysis suggests. If we are “evolved omnivores” the our digestive systems and our senses are “designed” to seek a mixed diet. Thus, deviating from that might be what moral philosophers like to label “supererogatory,” which means beyond the call of duty or even heroic. As an example, running into a building burning to save a stranger might be considered supererogatory in so far as it is morally meritorious to be sure, but hardly something we would say is morally required. Is opting for a vegan lifestyle like that, wherein we might recognize its moral merit while at the same time considering it to be beyond what duty might require?

I agree that this is an objection worth considering and I have a number of things to say in response. It’s hardly a spoiler for me to say up front that I’m not super-convinced. Here are some of my thoughts:

Response #1: Even if we are evolved omnivores who gravitate towards a mixed diet, it’s not clear that it’s “too difficult” to make other choices. It’s a simple empirical fact that lots of people do it all the time, and they are none the worse for it and it doesn’t take a great deal of effort. And as new recipes and new products become available, it becomes easier and easier to choose not to consume animal products.

Response #2: The objection suggests in part that ideology doesn’t play as large a role in people’s “cognitive stubbornness” because our desire mechanisms are so easily and habitually kicked into gear when, for example, we smell the Thanksgiving turkey cooking. Maybe sometimes it’s not so difficult to choose otherwise, but — so the objection might go — forgoing the Thanksgiving turkey or the Superbowl Sunday wings requires a level of effort that we might regard as heroic. Could this explain the under-motivated quality of people who might recognize arguments but still not act on them? In my view, ideology figures large in normalizing these choices in the face of their consequences for non-human animals. Your mouth might water over the turkey or the wings, but is it really heroic to consider alternatives like Buffalo cauliflower instead, especially when the alternative is so steeped in pain, suffering, and exploitation?

Response #3: The ideology of human domination over animals far transcends the realm of dietary choice, so it is not merely a matter of our evolution as omnivores. Though in my draft paper on meat-eating as ideology and meat-eaters’ fragility I call the defensive response to the very suggestion that we consider not exploiting animals for our own comfort or enjoyment “meat-eaters’ fragility,” the moral concern is about much more than the choice to eat meat or consume animal products.

Response #4: Though I understand that Paul wasn’t suggesting that our evolved omnivorism ought to be considered exculpatory, he does suggest that it might explain the level of resistance. I agree that it might contribute, but it finds much easier purchase in the context of the ideology of human entitlement and superiority than it might otherwise have.

Response #5: There is some dispute about how “hard-wired” we are as omnivores. It is true that physiologically we are omnivores in that we are capable of digesting plants and animal products. But people are right to wonder whether that means we are hard-wired from an evolutionary perspective to eat that way. Though there may be a few parts of the world where it is of necessity, given the lack of availability of plant-based options (either because of literal climate or fresh-food deserts), for the majority of the global population it’s a habit cultivated over time, not an evolutionary necessity.

In a more detailed philosophy paper I would probably offer more detailed (and perhaps more) responses to this version of the demandingness objection. The main goal today is to offer some compelling reasons for thinking that ideology contributes significantly to the phenomenon of “fragility,” which, in turn, is an obstacle in the way of moral progress and, for that reason, needs to be taken seriously.