What’s it like here in Australia?

873: 

There’s a constant tussle with people over this subject of animals, eating them, caging them, killing them, downgrading the importance of them. I happen to believe one way, you may believe another. Let’s say, we start to discuss our different views, each of us having differing views about many other important matters. That brings us a choice of two ways: be forceful or be soft. This brings me to ‘stoushing’, an important Australian activity. It’s not quite fighting, it’s more like robust-exchanging; when you ‘have a stoush’ with somebody, it’s a fight BUT you trust it won’t get personal. And that gives each person here a certain confidence, to feel free to express your views, and not get cut down for them.

Even in this benign and not overtly-violent country, holding a certain view, about the use-of-animals, is a bit like sitting on a volcano; here you are, you’re talking, conversing, and suddenly the temperature changes. A changed tone of voice, charged, and each about to go head-to-head, omnivore versus vegan.

“If it’s something I said?”, did I light the touch-paper, did I touch a raw nerve? Are we heading for a full-on confrontation here? On one level, I might be deliberately baiting you. You suspect I’m deliberately offending you.  And perhaps, without knowing it, you might be offending me, by defining me in a too narrowly, as being just vegan and nothing else. Perhaps I did take things too far. Perhaps I stirred the hornet’s nest in you.

Here I am. I’m talking to friends, strangers, kids, or whoever, about this matter of animal-use. Likely I’m going to say something that sounds more radical than anything you’ve ever heard before. My knife cuts a little too deeply.

Once this has happened, it’s too late to rescue the situation. So, it then is a matter of pre-empting. Me and You. talking. And it’s down to me, to set the stage, feely-wise, because I’m the one who has initiated and encouraged talking about it; I’m initiating something uncomfortable but unavoidable, into our conversation. For my part, I’m hoping that it won’t be our LAST conversation! Which is why I try to keep what I want to say, limited. And I keep what I do say within the bounds of a friendly stoush. My first priority is to maintain an atmosphere of trust, and leading to friendly-exchange. There’s a vibrational responsibility we have here. And often it becomes a vibrational, brewing trouble between us. So, when I see a break-down looming, I deal with that as first priority, before doing anything else.

At first, in order to get my point across, or make any sort of forward progress at all, I’ll bend over backwards to keep things on a friendly footing; needing to allay your suspicion of me, and what I’m ‘up to’. This subject so important, that we can’t afford to blow it, that’s all I’m saying. The greatest danger we face, as vegan activists, is sounding proselytizing. ‘They’will always wonder of us, whether we are prepared to forgo polite convention or worse, to break that solid Australian social rule of never going beyond a stoush.

To that end, I’ll appear almost uninterested in making any further point, until you feel free to say what you want to say. To that end I’m willing to downplay anything, because I don’t want you defining me too narrowly. My first aim, at the outset of any serious chat on this subject, is to avoid being too easily labelled: me as only ‘vegan’, or me being ‘too obsessed’, or worse, seeing me as ‘Angry Vegan’.

In our society there’s a knee-jerk reaction to vegans, because we are, at least potentially, capable of ruining your day, by what we say.

If you ever enter the public domain, to be speaking about vegan philosophy, or, less preciously, just by having a chat with a mate (about using-of-animals, ‘speciesism’, etc.) you enter the lion’s den. Everyone’s super-sensitive around this subject.

If we want to approach animal issues at all, and be relaxed about it, I advocate signing up a personal binding contract, which says something about my most important behaviour codes. It says, when chatting with you, that I:

1. Promise to be spontaneous.

2. Promise no evangelising.

3. (Easier said than done).

So, we’re having a relaxed chat. You and me. We’re here, trying to abide by rules of conversation, prepared for a stoush. We’re here in Australia, where the egalitarianism is in the air. It’s a not-so-deeply-violent country. In more violent places you wouldn’t dare let your eyes meet, unless you wanted a fight. Where I come from, eyes rarely meet unless there’s aggressive contact. Even in this benign country, a difference of opinion, about the use-of-animals, feels potentially dangerous.

            Here we are. You are talking away, and I’m talking away, and then suddenly the temperature changes. A stoush is brewing. The air is charged. A changed tone of voice and that familiar screech of defensiveness. Dark clouds boil - an upcoming, head-on, omnivore-versus-vegan-battle. Perhaps a raw nerve is hit and we head for confrontation.

            Here we are, talking. Perhaps we’re embarrassed. There’s a hesitancy, a making of over-careful comments. Already, the useful exchange is over. Now we come to that stimulating or frightening new level - ready to spark a stoush - something has offended someone. My offending you, by something I’ve said, or you offending me, for defining me too narrowly (“You’re vegan and nothing else”).

Talking to friends, strangers or kids about this matter of animal-use, stumbles when I say something more radical than anything you’ve ever heard before; my knife cuts a little too deeply, perhaps.

So, by pre-empting the possible storm, I try to keep what I say, within the bounds of a friendly stoush; I’m cautious; I sometimes go madly back-pedalling, trying to keep this deadly-serious subject light. But here is the subtlest balance of all, and one we need to draw on, early-on - the way we don’t always try to WIN our argument. I don’t mean give way on any principle at all, but emphasise wanting only to stimulate discussion of the subject. Humble animal-ambassadors, we vegans are, but we do want, often, to be speaking about this subject. The subtleness of the balance here, especially when vegans know they are at such an ethical advantage, that we can afford to allow some slack, emotionally. That’s the nice-guy approach. The not so nice guy, the one they suspect we are, represents the worst of us. We who deviously lay the way for a coups de grace. We know we have it hidden up our sleeve; our message being so powerfully watertight. We shouldn’t take advantage of this to the detriment of good feeling, perhaps that’s all I’m saying here.

My first priority would always be to maintain an atmosphere of trust, and if it’s not there I’ll try to build it. So, at first, in order to get my point across, or indeed to make any sort of forward progress at all, I’ll bend over backwards to keep things on a friendly footing. My main concern is always to allay suspicion (ugh!!) that I’d want to go beyond a stoush. To that end, I’ll appear almost uninterested in making any further points, unless I know you’re feeling free to say what you want to say. I’m wanting to provide cushions for the blast and the fall-out, and the wrestling with unavoidable and uncomfortable notions. I’d be willing to establish all of that in exchange for you not defining vegans too narrowly.