Vegans who condemn

477: From a vegan’s point of view, protesting is right. We know we aren’t a bunch of oiks. We know the aggro image is not fair, well, perhaps for some. In the main, a nicer people you couldn’t meet. Some are shouters, get aggro, harm the cause, but there’s passion and courage too. We can be outrageous and judgemental (“You fools, don’t you see how many animals are being murdered and humans being poisoned by the food they eat?”) but I hope that approach is changing because it gets us nowhere. Our subject is a tricky one to handle. When we speak too passionately, especially if there’s a whiff of aggression about us, it puts people off. And because ‘animal matters’ have to be explained in serious tones (necessarily, it’s a very dark subject) this makes the whole matter unattractive. Without trying too hard, omnivores can easily dislike a vegan. But that isn’t only down to our heavy approach but because some of us have a prickliness with anyone who presents opposing arguments.

The social side of befriending vegans

475: There just aren’t that many vegans around yet, especially in rural areas or countries where veganism is almost unheard-of. Even in a big city being vegan can be a solitary business, but vegan not only need company of other vegans but needs to fit in socially with non-vegans. And that’s all tied up to how much one promotes vegan issues and Animal Rights. There just aren’t enough of us, let alone enough who are committed to active promotion, and it’s evident that vegan numbers aren’t rapidly increasing. Perhaps that can be put down to bad press. But there’s another force working against us – ourselves! I think our image is of morally judgemental people. Vegan activists often have a loud look. In the past, owing to our small numbers, we’ve had to look stronger by shouting louder; our protests sometimes seem pushy, even sour, even aggressive. Not a good look. But, to be fair, we’re going out of our minds with anxiety over the horrendous things happening to animals. It especially drives me nuts, that kind, intelligent, educated, economically well-off people just don’t want to know. And famous TV personalities don’t help when they visit such places as cattle feedlots and make jokes about the conditions there and let the owner say how happy the animals are. (I recently saw John Doyle and Tim Flannery doing just that on their Two On The Great Divide programme). So it’s always going to be an uphill battle for us to inform people about what is happening to animals, but ours is a communication job. No need to sledge hammer information into people. Especially with the image vegans already have. We’ve all contributed to an unfortunate image and if it is to change it might take some time. If I talk about moving ‘towards veganism’ I’ll be confining what I say to relating facts, and in small enough doses for easy digestion, maybe just enough to nudge an entrenched animal-using lifestyle. For omnivores there are two off-putting perceptions of vegans – our food and our fellow-vegan friends - what we eat and who we mix with. If a diet, for instance, is Animal-Rights-friendly it means we eat foods which are unfamiliar to most people. Maybe that’s not such a big obstacle. One can deal with that. But the big question might be whether one could mix with vegans socially. People may see us as ‘kind’ to animals. No one would object to that. But as soon as we try to convert non-vegans, and take every opportunity to mention ‘our subject’, our image changes. Our stereotypical, ‘shouting protester’-image confirms fears about mixing with us socially. In a free-willed, individualistic society, we might have a good cause but may seem like ugly people. Each animal advocate has to work out their own way of speaking strongly without being boring or pushy about it.

"You are inferior"

470: If I think your views are inferior to mine and if I try to tell you “you’re wrong”, you can’t be blamed for getting upset. It sounds like a criticism of you as a person (“So, you think I’m inferior?”) If I believe I’m right and you’re wrong it seems like I’m brighter than you, better than you or better informed. In any discussion of ethics, when I win the point I also lose the point - I’ve satisfied myself that I’ve ‘got that one across’. I said it strongly. I proved my point. I have the guts to say it as I see it. But, confrontation and emotionally-charged one-upmanship gets me nowhere. If I can see in front of me a person with a tight lipped intention not to change, I know I don’t stand a chance of making a connection. Perhaps me-the-‘righteous’, who is NEVER wrong simply makes others dig their heels in. Whereas when I’m not trying to sound ‘better-than-you’ then something can happen. We can all indulge the most outrageous disagreements, and it can be fun even though the subject is so deadly serious. Now, in my rush to be acceptable to you I don’t need to betray my own stand, by seeming to go along with views I don’t agree with, just to keep the peace. That takes me nowhere. But on some level I think I have to show an acceptance of the omnivore. (For heaven’s sake, most ALL of the people I know are practising omnivores!) Because there are so many omnivores about I must accept them if I want to have any chance at all of touching their hearts. I have to find a way to ‘dialogue’ with someone who disagrees with me vehemently. This vexed question, of whether this subject is regarded by others as ‘important’ - animal food and animal cruelty - is the foundation for all dialogue on this subject. If this subject were talked about as freely as, say, environmental matters, I’d be happy, but food and animal food (and therefore animal husbandry) always seem to touch a raw nerve, so it’s like no other subject. First up then, I ease up on my attack mode, then relax into the role of ‘information-imparter’. It’s never going to be easy.

The affection approach

468: If an omnivore is willing to accept the idea that animals have rights, it means they don’t like to see them exploited for human use. That’s the dividing point - likely most people will not cross that divide. And because they won’t, this subject is a sensitive matter. I think it’s important, when I’m talking Animal Rights, that I don’t get people’s backs up unnecessarily. I’m never sure how close they are to accepting my arguments … so I try to respect their intelligence, if only to get some respect back - tit for tat. If I find myself not showing respect, there’s no way they will listen to me; figuratively speaking, I’ll never get my toe in the door. They have to be emotionally on-side if I want them to listen to our ‘message’. Animal Rights information should be like ‘vegan take-away’ - something to be taken home, to be chewed over. However, let it be said, this is not yummy food we’re selling, it’s more like a difficult-to-digest idea. To pass our ‘juicy morsel’ over the counter, the customer needs to know it’s at the very least safe. In other words we need to cultivate trust in our ‘product’. But even so, there’s likely to be heated views anyway - you may love your meat, love your whole diet, your treats and snacks. I may be firmly against all of that. We differ, but come together we must. If I’m the one initiating discussion, my smile, voice-tone and body language need to remain untouched by any show of opposition from you. Nothing should prevent me from remaining calm. Throughout everything, my affection and respect for you should be constant. My information might be hard to handle but my approach should be casual. It’s only when something is raised casually enough, to indicate safety (as well as attractiveness) that it can become interesting enough for the other person to risk engaging with it. And if you trust me enough, you may even dare to ask the really tricky and confronting questions without fearing that I’ll turn on you. When I get a confronting question I know we have engaged, and it’s likely we’ll both be learning something valuable from each other.

Good manners!

467a
Just suppose I’ve been asked a question - why am I vegan? I wonder to myself why the question has been asked. Maybe the other person is genuinely interested but just as likely they are ‘showing an interest’ out of good manners. NOT because they’re ‘fascinated to know’ but to show me I’m not disrespected by them.
When I’m not sure who I’m talking with (on this oh-so-sensitive matter) it’s not until I actually start talking that I can sense why they asked, and therefore know at what level I should be ‘pitching’ my words.
Soon after they respond. They might heckle, put in a quick dig at me, even bring on a full scale moral punch-up. And I have to ask myself why would an omnivore want to discuss ‘veganism’ with a vegan? It’s such a central question for vegans and a frequent situation I find myself in.
Sometimes it’s a genuine question, as if they’re giving me the all-clear to answer. Then I look back at myself - I ask why am I so keen to talk - perhaps this is another valuable rehearsal opportunity, to practise my ‘pitch’ - to see if I can deliver my argument without upsetting anyone. I find myself experimenting, testing the waters or taking risks to see if they snap. Perhaps I want to get to the point where I’m saying “Take it or leave it”. But in my heart of hearts I’m also feeling very grateful that this good person has shown an interest, given me the chance to say something, allowed themself to be used as a punch bag.

Wanting to talk

467:

You might disagree with me on the matter of animal use, but we should all try to rub along together. I insist on it. The potential of this ‘omnivore-vegan interface’ lies in our talking together and understanding where each is coming from. Possibly, for the omnivore, they haven’t thought much about ‘animal issues’ before, and as a vegan it’s likely I’ve forgotten how I came to ‘it all’ in the first place.
What brings in their interest now and what brought mine - what was my own trigger at the time?
When talking happens, things come alive - perhaps right out of the blue this ‘subject’ comes up in conversation. The issues spring up perhaps a little too ‘loudly’ and when they do you can sometimes cut the atmosphere with a knife. I notice how the resistance-shutters come down. And so quickly. Especially if it’s already known that I’m ‘a vegan’.
I find it’s weird when, suddenly, the spotlight falls on me. “Speak”. And the big question is, at that precise moment, how I pitch what I have to say. I want to say this ... but perhaps I’d better say less? Some will genuinely want to find out about it, but it’s likely others will be hoping NOT to cop a lecture.
On the safe side I’ll say less than I’m being allowed to say – I want to establish trust even more that I want to get my ‘message’ out. Anyway, for me it’s a guessing game, as to how genuine another person’s interest is.
If I’m given the go-ahead to speak I don’t necessarily feel obliged to plough on but always to assume my right to NOT comment or to even drop the subject if I sense I’m being compromised or if I smell some aggro in the wind.
I remember the time I was talking on a box at Hyde Park Corner in London, giving a talk and answering questions about the kangaroo situation in Australia. I was heckled badly by one person. He made enough noise that I couldn’t be heard. I had to give it away in the end because all I could do was become even more aggressive with him than he was being with me, and that would put into question why I was talking there in the first place, about violence. Admittedly this is an extreme situation but it showed me how desperately some people don’t want to hear anything on this subject of animal abuse.
If I’m an advocate for animals I might simply want the chance to knock other people’s views on the head. That’s one approach. Another might simply be to assist … to raise general consciousness, but only when there’s permission. Otherwise whatever I say will ‘put people off’.
Omnivores have the right not to engage, but it’s maddening to see them ducking and diving and for me to pretend not to notice. I try to get a fire going even with damp wood so our conversation might eventually roar like a fire up a chimney ... and yet, when finished, still to leave on good terms.
If it doesn’t work between us, if it turns into a bun fight over who is right, then it’s my fault initially - it’s likely I’m forgetting to monitor your feelings, as if they don’t matter. And if my ‘riding roughshod’ is sensed, conversation becomes heated ... neither is being allowed to say their piece. At some point, mutual respect was thrown out the window. At some point both sides lost interest in communication. Clear signs of an unintelligent and unsuccessful meeting.

‘Seriously?’

466:

The vegan advocate ultimately sets out to impress and inspire … without the use of emotional blackmail or any kind of too-clever persuasion.
The subtle process of influencing others (to get them to think more the way I think) involves acceptance on all fronts – at some stage I need to show an acceptance of opposing views that disagree with my own. This is ‘acceptance’ rather than approval, and within that specification is my implicit promise not to get aggro over anything. Anyone representing an ‘opposition’ view needs to be assured of equality of status, between us both. Until that is clear, there can’t be any launching into deep waters. If my assurance isn’t there, and if I don’t reinforce it frequently, my ‘opposition’ friend will always be reluctant to enter into meaningful dialogue with me.
Look at it this way - my well-thought-out position is likely to contrast with the less-well-thought-out position of my ‘adversary’. And for that reason alone I shouldn’t get heavy about a subject which is, for them, relatively little known about.
All I’d ask of the omnivore is that they agree that ‘Animal Rights’ is a subject worthy of being taken seriously. If they don’t think it is, THEN I believe I have the right to ask why ... in order to avoid wasting my time discussing this subject if it’s only going to be seen as a frivolous matter. Only then, on both sides, can something profound come out of our discussions.

Same-old, same-old

464:

How can we ensure that, within the protest movement, we won’t become ‘forceful’, even violent? When we’re talking to people on this Most Important Subject, do we, as vegans, attempt to force people to agree with us? If we do, how can we justify that? Perhaps we use the animals as an excuse to be a bully, to get our rocks off and to vent our spleen?
That pushiness comes across as boring – everyone has heard it all before, same old-same old. If I have something to say I try to make it sound useful and original, as if it comes from the heart and not from the vegan text book.
Even if my polemic is justified, the bottom line is that I never want to seem ‘pushy’, not with this subject, because people still don’t attach ‘wrong’ to it. Animal use is still ‘acceptable’ to most people – they’ve never really questioned it. And more to the point, I know we all live in a democracy where (thankfully) no one is compelled to listen to anyone else or agree with them. If I start to preach I know I’m going to lose audience.
This subject of animals having rights - it seems to me utterly logical and right, and of course I want others to know that. But as soon as I make anyone feel uncomfortable by taking the moral high ground I’ve lost them. In contrast as soon as I poke fun at myself you can see the relief in people’s faces. I can’t describe my whole manner in a few words, this is just part of it. Each of us is different in style. Overall though, perhaps it’s a gentleness of approach we need. I sometimes want to scream peaceful-ness, because there’s something about this notion of ‘vegan harmlessness’ which has a nice ring to it. Maybe it can be cheeky but it never has to go anywhere near becoming offensive.
My aim would be to be ‘non-confronting’, to go in softly, gauge a person’s actual interest and perhaps their touchiness. I try to be friendly because that’s what I want from them. Yes, I do love a good fight, but a ‘good’ one. It’s in the tradition of how we are together, whether arguing or playing - most of us have grown up in relative peace, never expecting gratuitous hostility from anyone we meet and talk with. Here, advocating for animals, I like to think I’m representing a significantly important movement, but it’s not really about me-activist but about them, about liberating animals. I am as much setting standards of behaviour as I am disseminating information.
I like to think of myself as a self-appointed ambassador for the voiceless. If they could speak they wouldn’t speak with any violence, I’m sure of that. They’d want to keep the peace (knowing from experience how to deal with highly volatile and potentially dangerous humans). I would argue that even in the most heated exchanges with other people, over the question of animal rights, I should never need to lose my cool, over anything? Why would I spoil my day?
As a vegan I want to be trusted on all sorts of levels - my information, is it correct? Am I a nice person? Can I be trusted NOT to fly off the handle when issues become sensitive? Can I be not-boring? Am I interested in others’ points of view?
If I can convince people I mean them no harm I’ll do it through my tone of our voice and body language. And for those of us who’ve got a few violent tendencies we must swear three thousand promises NOT to set out to hurt. After all, if vegans call for harmlessness on one level they must respect it on all levels, surely. There’s so much hurt in the world, why add to it? It’s like a vasectomised man in an overpopulated world who doesn’t want to add more kids to it. In a nutshell, I try to never get involved in emotionally attacking anyone, especially if they’ve asked me what I think … about this issue. How rude would that be?

Being ‘right’

463:

For vegans, we have such cast iron arguments that I find it difficult to believe that we don’t have some sort of magical powers. Certainly our arguments are powerful but, hey, maybe not magic. However, that’s our job - to bring the issues into focus, bring them to life and bring this whole hidden-away subject out into the open.
To omnivores who, food-wise, are generally animal-addicted, our arguments don’t sound at all magical. To most of them we are a nuisance. Omnivores build cast iron barricades to guard themselves from people like us. To vegans, we know omnivore logic is faulty but the trap for us, with our better arguments, is that we exude feelings of being ‘right’. It’s our smugness that puts people off. When we give off that air of “look at me, at how terrific I am, how healthy, guiltless … etc”, nothing’s more unattractive than this. It’s what they call here in Australia “big-noting oneself”. I know I do it, I put others ‘off’ in this way … and ultimately screw things for the Animal Rights Movement.
Vegans, like me, have to control our passions and make sure we don’t give off the wrong signals, as if we don’t care what others think of us, as if we’re willing to forfeit friendliness for the sake of making a point.
The safest style of approach for me is to think court jester; think of the jester’s style which is always respectful, always affectionate but always stirring.

Being wary of the vegan advocate

463

I don’t flinch at watching footage of animal cruelty. I hate to see it but I’ve seen so much of it - I know it shows up the worst aspects of human behaviour and it depresses me because of that. But its use for me is that it strengthens my motivation and holds my focus where I want it - on my ‘outrage’. But I also know that’s a trap. When I start to talk about ‘all this’, if I sound too outraged I’ll frighten people. It’s important to show how I feel, yes, but also to show how I respect humans, not just animals.
When I get speaking (on my favourite subject) I either create great waves of trust or a threat. For me it’s important to REMEMBER to drop any aggro attitude, since first impressions are so important, and why I don’t need to show my hand as a matter of course.
But vegans like me are natural talkers (about animal rights) and I do a lot of emailing, writing, telephoning and speaking, to put out this vegan message to people. But face to face communication is hard - hard not to sound preachy and evangelical. So, my point here is that omnivores need to trust us. In particular they need to know that we won’t ‘turn’ on them, crush them or attempt to make fools of them. Once they trust us about this then they’ll listen or at least let us put our points forward. We all have to contribute to establishing this trust so it becomes known that this is what vegans are like, not just extremists but people who are gentle extremists.

Turning nasty

462a:

In public some of us vegans protest in the streets (or in the media) for Animal Rights, but are we aware of how we come across? In our fierce fight for ‘rights’ we might not have any room for fancy ideas like ‘having all-round-respect for animals and humans alike’.
In my daily interactions with people, when I bristle if people don’t agree with my point of view, I try not to show it. I usually make a pathetic attempt to smile warmly, as if I’m above being offended. It never works. And then when I don’t try at all it’s just as bad - I just snap at something they’ve said. And this, I think, screws my attempt at animal advocacy. Amongst those of us advocating this difficult subject, the ‘approach’ we choose to take is the big controversy in the Animal Rights and Vegan movements - how we appear to the general public.
I’m not always proud of the way I come across when I ‘lose it’ with someone. When I don’t take enough care how my words are couched and deal badly with the issues. Is it just a matter of my being more sensitive? I’m not sure. Some say “go in soft”, others like to throw their weight about. But in the end it comes down to communicating effectively - surely that’s what it’s all about? Getting people to want to hear what we have to say, as if it might be interesting, informing.
I try to imagine an omnivore listening to me talking about my interest in Animal Rights. You can almost see them waiting for my punch line, my inevitable, thinly veiled insult. And I can almost hear them thinking how impossible it is to identify with me and with what I’m saying. Vegans and activists in general already have a reputation for their high moral platform, and whether it’s valid or not there’s a gut reaction to vegans. The concern is not usually about the food we eat but as to whether we are violent or non-violent in our nature. People are often on the lookout for the first signs of our ‘emotional blackmail’ or for us to be trying to prove them WRONG, or to say something meant to humiliate them.
How does any omnivore feel confident that ‘our views’ will be expressed in a reasonable way? As vegans, if we come across as fierce, we may reinforce that evangelical image some of us have, and end up losing our listeners for ever. And what that bequeaths to other vegans who might come along later is anyone’s guess!
Whatever the subject, when I get steamed up about it, it’s my emotion, my passion or my outrage, that shows up first. If I succeed in making someone feel uncomfortable then any logic or fact or argument I might have been using is drowned out by my ugly approach - vegan shouts: listener cringes. What the listener so often does NOT do, is say “that is so true and from this moment on I’ll give what you say a go. I, just like you, feel outraged”, and yet this is what we intend them to come out with.
Animals: they’ve invested in one way of looking at this animal issue and held that view all their lives. They’re not going to agree with me lightly, especially if they have a ham sandwich in their lunch pack!
If my outrage doesn’t come across as being quite cool then what will? I’m not so sure about ‘cool’. I think I’m too old to appear cool, but for younger activists it is a crucial part of acceptance that they are ‘cool’, which means their base-line is something others can work from. I suppose it’s a style of behaviour which would, in this case, be showing an attempt to answer questions whilst keeping emotions under control ... and NEVER turning nasty with people when they disagree with us.

Shoes

462

I know an 18 years old who is into vegan food, but she’s stuck on shoes. She loves shoes. What woman doesn’t? But there isn’t much of an alternative to leather fashion shoes yet. Here’s where she may want to NOT touch animals, but touch them she does, by way of her shoes. Why does my ‘vegan’ friend wear leather on her feet? Maybe it’s the fear of social suicide - a beautiful dress, a magnificent everything else and it all falls to pieces with canvas on her feet.
Of course this usually isn’t so much of a problem for men, well not for me certainly but then I’m not 18 and not dating. And of course it doesn’t matter eventually because as soon as there’s enough demand for a different line of shoe, then a whole range of magnificent plant-based footwear will appear … and at competitive prices. But that isn’t now is it.
The Chinese might be doing it already, and if so, then they can do it not just because of lower labour costs but because plant fabric is cheaper than leather.
The world is moving towards cutting unnecessary costs by ‘going-plant’. It’s going that way and fashion will shift towards both non-animal foods and fabrics. However it all depends where we spend our money. If you join the boycott and sponsor alternatives, fashions will change. And it’s the fashion market which determines whether we get shoes of the plant-based variety.
But back to my friend. It must be annoying to her, because of the shoes she chooses to wear, that she can’t actively promote vegan principle or Animal Rights. And in every other way she’s a real genuine hot-shot vegan and animal advocate.

Protests looking ugly

461:

As vegans we may be convinced of our own non-violence, but have to doubt it when we find ourselves ‘doing’ an angry protest. To people who see us getting angry it’s off-putting. When we set out on a high moral platform it might give us confidence, since we are so obviously right … and yet we don’t see how, drip by drip, our protest can come to seem too harsh, even violent.
To be non-violent, I think, we activists (so-called!) do need to consider developing a level of control, where words are strong but not frightening and where voices are loud but not screaming. Collectively we can seem too big for our boots, over confident or even brash. The vegan public face is sometimes off-putting. We don’t recognise it in ourselves because at home we aren’t like that at all. At home, where everyone knows us too well, we’re not trying to impress anyone. Lifestyle-wise, vegans are pretty much fine examples of non-violence. It seems a shame to wear our dark side in public just to look as though we are serious and dedicated.
Privately of course, a more wonderful ‘at-peace’ spirit you’ll never find, and that’s because vegans have low levels of ‘spending-violence’ They don’t buy animal-stuff or guns or do violent crime. At home vegans are cool and it’s only when we’re trying to be effective outside the home that we hit trouble, like when we want to be ‘hot’ (passionate) ... and then it’s our appearance that lets us down.
Vegans should of course feel utterly safe when we go up against the ‘big-bad-world’ to advocate for the animals. So, when we have to face some opposition, face some curly questions, how do we handle it? How do we come across? “Bring it on” sounds brave, and it is brave, but we still don’t have to sound aggro to prove that we are fearless.

Force

460:

Experimenting using force is little more than advantage-taking. Once we take out the ‘force factor’ in what we do, what are we left with? Perhaps we’ll seem less pushy, even ignorable but we free ourselves from the grip of the usual activist’s violence-based approach. At least people won’t have to be afraid of us, that we might attack them or humiliate or judge them. They’ll be more inclined to give us a hearing.
As humans we’re capable of wonderful things, not the least of which is our ability to ‘act on principle’ rather than from the ‘me-first’ position. One of the greatest principles is non-violence, not the do-nothing- passive approach but the active-provocateur-spirit that stirs without causing any harm. I think there’s such a thing as the non-violent wake-up call that mixes well with our own sense of rebellion. If we can find a balance in that we can be a little provoking or questioning without using any force. We can couch what we say in humour, where we are gently taking the piss out of those who have no argument to support their position. We can give them a serve but keep it light at the same time.
Take an omnivore for example. I’ll tell them they couldn’t boycott anything even if they tried, since they are so hooked on yummy food. No, they might not like that but they can hardly get too upset by my saying this to their face. They have to agree that we should all be working for a better world. Our suggestion is simply that we should all boycott the ugly stuff that makes the world a worse place.
By boycotting we withdraw our support of a world-that-need-not-be. Our pressure, as vegans, brings this world into focus, making compassion the new fashion. In whatever way we put that to other people, as long as we don’t get too heavy about it, they can hardly disagree. We know, first hand, that what we are suggesting can be difficult, and omnivores believe it’s probably too hard to live happily being a boycotting vegan. Our job is surely to awaken them to the possibility of overturning a notion that’s been planted, as part of the ‘conspiracy of misinformation’, by The Animal Industries. And just to give vegan eating a go.

Standing upright in a ‘me-first’ world

459:

When we look into the ‘me-first’ world, obviously food features large. When it comes to food we are largely controlled by it. Maybe our food habits haven’t been changed since childhood? It might never have occurred to us to change them.
Maybe one day it hits you. It did me, but I wasn’t ready, so I turned away. Or maybe I was nearly ready and I did change, but not enough. But eventually I did the thing properly, went ‘vegan’, sacrificing some of my ‘me-first’ for ‘me-second’. I never looked back. What exactly impels one to take this plunge is different for everyone. It’s a ‘coming-out’, a breaking-through.
Once you do go vegan and feel okay about it, things do move on quickly. Once the food change-over is established and it feels comfortable then maybe comes the time to move on a little further, to a veganism not only food-oriented but to one which affects much more of our daily behaviour, especially when we feel like getting involved in activism. Then the question arises as to how we conduct this ‘advocacy for animals’. Will our activism be inspired by complete non-violence or be driven by force and all the techniques of heavy persuasion?
For me there seemed such an obvious urgency. I wanted others to change my way, and that drove my activism, until I started to consider how effective I was being. I thought that if our food was non-violent so should our thoughts be and so should our attempts at persuading others. I thought - how can vegans be useful to our non-violent animal friends if we aren’t advocating and practising non-violence like them. I like to think that animals aren’t corrupted in the ways we humans are and therefore they live in a state of peace and harmlessness, a superior state of mind we could all aspire to.
It’s quite a challenge to routinely practise non-violence in this violent world. If we don’t attempt to be non-violent in our approach to others then our self-esteem will surely suffer. And we won’t do much good for the animals who we are supposed to be standing up for. Who will identify with an angry activist who is trying to advocate for peace? People are more likely to follow our example of using ‘peaceful food’ if we’re peaceful people.

Crazy

458:

Imagine the embarrassment in years to come, when we remember how we participated in animal enslavement. This is no casual, accidentally picked up habit, but a daily routine complicity to imprison, murder and then eat the poor creatures we’ve been abusing.
Today, when plant-based foods are known to be so nutritionally good for us, the ugly business of farming and killing animals seems crazy. In this respect, vegans live amongst weird-habited, primitive fellow humans. Omnivores are locked into a ‘me-first’ attitude in so many ways, the most dangerous of which is in their inability to see things from any other vantage point but their own, when it comes to having the food they want to eat as opposed to the food they need to eat.

Animal Rights by law

456:

Animals, especially when they’re around humans, certainly need their rights to be legislated. The story of domesticated animals is all about loss of dignity and loss of life. We should atone for what we’ve done to them, or at least leave them alone … but, as it happens we’ve damaged them so badly for so long that we can’t simply let them out of their prisons. We need to protect them. Domesticated animals wouldn’t be able to survive on their own. Importantly we owe them ‘safe passage’, to live out their lives in a sanctuary or refuge … to be retired in other words. At the very least they are entitled to an unmolested rest-of-their-life.
Since we know that neither animal muscle tissue or animal by products are essential for a healthy life, there are no arguments left to support non-vegan living. In fact these animal items are detrimental to our health, so all the more reason to let them go.
Existing animals should have their lives given back to them, but certainly we can’t allow the billions alive today to breed indiscriminately, since we need to have their numbers (whole populations of them in fact) drastically reduced, and as quickly as possible. If we keep large numbers of animals alive and then let them breed without fertility control we’d defeat the whole purpose of rescuing them. Their numbers wouldn’t reduce … and we know what would happen then … as the number of ‘useful animals’ remains high or even increases the more their dollar-earning potential will tempt the unscrupulous human back to using them again, at a later date. Most humans are not to be trusted around animals any more than paedophiles are to be trusted around kids.
Without fertility control the animal-liberation-solution is untenable. Even as it is, the cost of caring for our present-day’s animals could be an intolerable burden on the public purse. But retiring the animals still alive today is probably a relatively minor problem in the greater scheme of things, since people do love being around animals. Any government could find potential animal-refuge workers, ready and willing (and probably for low wages) to work at animal retirement centres. These sanctuaries could be set up on land no longer used for animal farming.
The details, however, concerning reproduction, must include the possibility of denying the animals reproduction rights. We would have to, in some way, control birth rates. But free them we must. We can’t use our energies better than in the work of dis-enslaving these presently incarcerated animals.

Loss

455:

We’ve got to get used to losing if it’s a matter of losing-something-to-get-something-else. Whichever way it feels for us, we have to take on the world of loss.
For instance, what does it mean to lose friends? Or lose friends’ acceptance? (Two characteristically difficult losses for people who are moving towards becoming vegan). Perhaps the up-side is the loss of addiction, even loss of weight (if one is overweight). Whatever we lose, in order to make changes, at whatever level or cost or discomfort, the consequent change might be worth it. Anything’s better than inaction or doing something that lowers self respect.
There are a lot of ‘good causes’ to get involved with. This particular cause of Animal Rights will need very many people if the major job of liberating animals is to succeed.
Vegans want to get domesticated enslaved animals out of gaol … and rehabilitate them. We want them to have a life free from their slave masters. We believe they have a right to a life and, as with the issue of human slavery, it must be written into law for future generations. Some people will lose out, by no longer being able to exploit animals to make a living. But their loss is really their gain, since they won’t any longer have to ignore their compassionate feelings in order to make money.

Thinking about ‘going vegan’

453:

As a vegan I try to pass on information. I know what I want to say but don’t necessarily understand how to say it nor take the heat off me for saying it. I’m always looking for keys to communication so that I won’t seem preachy or self-righteous. Yes, I want to be stirring questions and making others feel a little troubled, hopefully in order to get them to think on their own. I want to be a bit edgy … but too, to get the balance just right.
I have noticed when I speak ‘vegan’ to omnivores that it can fire their ‘contemplation zone’. They’ll be maybe reacting, maybe computing how it would be if they did change, contemplating how it would feel if they did. (Assuming I don’t put them off at the outset)
Contemplating going vegan ranges from revulsion through to interest and sometimes onto inspiration. For me, at first, it was somewhere in the middle, where I was able to quieten my racing-ahead dread of change for long enough to hear encouraging signals from my ‘heart’ - picking up advice to try out ‘that particular change’.
In the process of change, I knew I had to feel confident enough not to land myself in serious trouble. That ranged from the mild inconvenience of missing certain things right through to fear of losing my health, my ‘normality’ and my friends. I was certainly weighing ‘me-first’.
There was a person at the time who was suggesting I ‘go vegan’ and I noticed disturbing signs in me. I’d have listened with interest on any other subject but this one. She was touching the most raw, most sensitive buttons. The ‘me-first’ in me was defending my pleasure and comfort zones. I was thinking, “Don’t touch my food, anything but that”. But she wasn’t interfering for idle reasons. She was suggesting that the most ‘me’-centred activities, like eating delicious but harmful animal foods, needed to be changed. Her concern was for me, that my very potential as a human was currently being wasted like rotting fruit fallen from a tree. I began to realise that I was a victim of a self-perpetuating, harmful habit.
Simply by way of ingesting foods extracted forcibly from the bodies of sentient beings, I was self-harming. I’d already given up meat but now, giving up these ‘secretions’, was upsetting to think about ... until I came to see that changing ‘me-first’ doesn’t have to make ‘me-last’, more like ‘me-second’. I started to see the need to step back from the current paradigm related to the ‘dominator species’ attitude, until I could see the weaknesses - a whole string of needs, wants, addictions, insecurities, vulnerabilities and peer pressures.
‘Me-second’, I realised, was a sign of growing-up. Not selfless, in fact something very selfish because it was enlightening – that this one habit change, if I could make it stick would make me a herbivore. And from there I’d get the balance right, allowing me to be edgy, take a few risks with people and give me a chance of meeting people head-on, without giving them the chance to see through me.
Being herbivore starts with undoing, that is boycotting – eating no more animal stuff, in order to no longer encourage their incarceration. This was to become a sufficiently strong statement to suddenly give me something profound to work for. And for all vegans alike, to save our own souls and let what we say be taken seriously.
I’ve never expected people to pay attention to what I have to tell them. They are free-willed enough to take it or leave it, but at least it shifts the emphasis off the personal. They aren’t trying to find the hypocrite in me. And that allows me to shift the emphasis from ‘me’ to ‘the other’, to talk about the sort of world I dream of. To project a world that will be nice for our kids and nice for freed animals who are no longer imprisoned.