657:
In the West the wealthy Animal Industries do good business out
of most of us. In Eating Animals by
Jonathan Safran Foer, it is projected that each of us will consume 21,000
animals in our lifetime. Just in that one frightening statistic it’s not only
obvious that the ‘no-use-animal’ principle should be taken seriously but that
humans are still busy turning our lovely planet into Factory-Earth.
Those of us who try to observe
vegan principles, who share a common horror at what’s happening, prefer to stay
clean even to the point of isolating ourselves socially. People don’t much like
our non-omnivorousness and dislike us personally when we deliberately
disassociate from them because of their eating habits.
Luckily for us this is not the
1940s, when veganism made its first appearance. It’s seventy years later and
people are so much better informed. There may be more vegans now but not many
more, and we are still scattered thinly across the globe. The up-side is that
our fellow comrades-in-adversity are good friends for us, sharing our boycott
and making us feel less abnormal. Nevertheless it’s not pleasant being
misunderstood by just about everybody else, and it’s particularly unpleasant
being left out in the cold socially. Poor us!!
But if we ever feel a bit sorry
for ourselves, it helps when we compare our social suffering with the lot of
‘domesticated animals’. Imagine what it must be like for them, to feel so
utterly abandoned. (They only have us to fight for them).
It’s as if Nature had allowed
humans to take and enslave her gentlest creatures so that they may learn the
most profound lesson of all, that slavery is spiritually reprehensible. Vegans
today can’t expect much company for some while yet, and this is our difficulty.
We have problems with omnivores; we have different values that make for all
sorts of social difficulties. Omnivores don’t think twice about meeting and
‘eating-animal’ with friends. They don’t worry as much as we do, about food or about
conversations concerning food. If vegans mix socially with omnivores, whenever
food’s involved there’s always a hint of awkwardness. We often hear the same
sort of ‘apology’ given, “Sorry we’re eating your friends”, or more often,
“Sorry you can’t eat this”.
The fact is there’s such a gulf
between us. Vegans have to get used to that, otherwise we’ll be driven ‘round
the bend’. If there’s an event-with-food you’ll always hear the same sort of
sentiment expressed - “Oh dear, I’ve just remembered s/he’s a vegan”, and we
are expected to take it as some sort of standing joke. It happens everywhere,
whether at work or with mates, or with the family, and it’s even there with ‘fellow’
vegetarians.
For us, for me at least, the lack
of truly simpatico people makes me feel lonely, unless I’m with another
(preferably likeable) vegan. And that can lead to being very negative about
omnivores in general. I notice that I can dislike their attitude to animal-use
and go on from there to value judge them. I’m often tempted to sacrifice a
friendship to gratify the urge to hit out when I’m riled, just to ease my own
inner tension.
The truth is that I find myself
disliking omnivores for what they do, not just because they eat animals but
because they don’t care that they do. But that’s as much my problem for judging
them as it is theirs for being the way they are. So here I am, keyed up, trying
not to be too obsessed or judgemental … but I’m aware that I still can’t move
forward; it feels like driving through sludge with the hand brake on.
As a vegan I know I play a
difficult game, especially when I (like everyone else) want approval from
others. And yet for all that, I still want to actively advocate for the
animals.
When I do get it right, when I
think I’ve got my message across and people seem to agree with me, it feels
great. There’s agreement without there being any bad feelings. But often, I
discover I haven’t really succeeded at all, because, actually, they didn’t
follow through. It’s a curious phenomenon, peculiar to our age, that people do
intend to do things but once started the inspiration fades too quickly, and it
isn’t kept up.
If you say to yourself that
you’re going to do something (say, about the animal thing) but end up breaking
promises to yourself, you then begin to mistrust whatever you intend.
Someone intending to ‘go vegan’
often experiences this, first up. “I told myself that I was going to try to go
vegan”. I was so passionate about it one day, but so cool about it the next day.
When it comes to such a
fundamental thing as food and meals and diet and eating habits, we are all so
set in our ways. We trust our own guidance, even as children. One of the things
we most associate with being a grown up is that we have the right to eat what
we like and spend our money as we please. Each free-willed individual upholds
their right to live as they like. So vegans, in terms of just food (and much
more of course) face a global unwillingness to follow advice so contrary to so
many instincts and habit patterns. For those who do eventually become committed
vegans, we are up against the sort of stubbornness that will resist or at least
postpone anything uncomfortable. ‘Going vegan’ seems, to the outsider, a very
uncomfortable prospect. The passion for it therefore has to be very strong, to
carry a person safely across the strong current of comfort and habit.