Hi. Remember me? It’s Jasmin, your friendly host, the owner of the “Jargon.” I won’t bore you with how busy I’ve been because blah blah blah, we’re all busy, yeah, yeah. Instead, I’ll pass the torch to one of the most brilliant human beans I’ve ever met: Mariann Sullivan, your trusted guest columnist today (and likely in the future, too). One of my favorite parts about Mariann is that she seldom has any f*cks to give. I also adore the way she thinks, which is why, 14 years ago, I handed her a microphone and said, “Let’s make a podcast.” Among other things, Mariann makes complex ideas palatable. And so … here she is, boys! Here she is, world! Here’s Mariann!
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Animal activists spend a lot of time thinking about how to respond to questions. It’s actually a bit weird, since we are seldom asked any questions. Most people want to avoid the subject at all costs. But there we are, with our carefully thought-out answers to questions that no one asks.
The thing I keep trying to remind myself to do instead of coming up with responses to questions that are never asked is to ask questions myself. This is also not easy, and for the same reason: people generally want to avoid the topic, and they aren’t thrilled when you ask them why they eat animals. And they suspect (sometimes, I admit, correctly) that one is asking them the question just to jump on their answer and tell them how wrong they are.
One answer that one often gets tossed around is something along the lines of, “I know I shouldn’t eat this or that or whatever, but I could never go vegan.” So I’ve been wondering whether, when I run into this particular type of response, instead of jumping to the part where I tell them that, yes, of course they could go vegan, it’s actually great, I should think more about what the people who say that really mean.
Maybe they really think they mean it — as if they believe that eating meat is similar to smoking. “I know I shouldn’t, but I am addicted.” But I don’t think so.
It’s possible that they want to believe that they are addicted, so that they can use that as an excuse to not quit—but they all know that if they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and salad for a day (or whatever they imagine they would eat if they were vegan), they wouldn’t develop actual physical withdrawal symptoms.
So maybe they mean “they could never go vegan” as a reference to desire. Something along the lines of, “I know I shouldn’t eat meat, but I love it so much, it’s so delicious, that I simply can’t give it up. I am weak.”
But, seriously?
There are, of course, some people who are “cutting down” and only eating meat for special occasions, but an awful lot of the people who say these things are eating the same junky, pointless animal foods that most people eat all the time: McDonald’s hamburgers, American cheese, tuna salad … all of them quite uninteresting and easily replicable with plant-based foods that also are constructed with a carefully engineered quantity of sweet, fat, and salt to appeal to our worst food instincts.
If this were the issue, and people really wanted to stop but just couldn’t overcome their desire for premium lamb chops or whatever, they would at least be slowing down and not eating whatever animal-based foods they could get their hands on, regardless of how tasteless and uninteresting — and entirely replicable — most of those meals are.
No, sorry. That doesn’t cut it.
Of course, while people may not own up to it, they might really be alluding, at least subconsciously, to social pressure. “I know I shouldn’t — but it’s too hard to be different.”
Maybe.
Of course, many people seem to have no problem being gluten-free or paleo or on Weight Watchers or having all sorts of difficult food requirements that others are expected to respect.
But maybe that’s not really the same thing. Perhaps those types of food preferences don’t feel as difficult to maintain and enforce because they are not necessarily an inherent criticism of the way other people are eating.
Not eating animals is basically saying to your host or companion that you think they are doing something immoral. While they may deflect that thought by either assuming that your choice is health-related or deciding to consider it some kind of personal preference, like chocolate or vanilla, underneath, they are probably annoyed, and likely insulted.
My personal favorite theory about the most common thing that people mean when they say that they really shouldn’t eat animals, but …, is that they know that people shouldn’t, but as long as others do, why should they be the ones to stop? According to this rationale, the problems caused by animal agriculture are obviously too big to be affected just because of one person’s individual action. The annoying thing about that response is that they have a point.
But, sorry, it’s not really a very good one.
Because, of course, we each do have an impact. Individual change that is part of collective action does matter. Otherwise, why vote? Why recycle? It’s certainly not the whole ball game to fixing what’s wrong with the world, but most people think that what they do matters in lots of other realms.
Also, regardless of real-world impact, it is not nothing to live, or fail to live, in accordance with your beliefs. Most people understand that doing the right thing is part of what makes us who we are.
So we may not feel we are ending child abuse by refusing to buy child pornography, but we (mostly) all understand it’s still the right thing to do. And we don’t think that the person who really, really wants to view child pornography should get a pass.
Also — here’s another one — maybe they are worried that they will not only be considered odd, but they will be called upon to explain why they aren’t eating animals and won’t know how to answer. They feel that there is so much to know, and they don’t even want to know it, much less have to explain it. So declining to eat animals might force them to know more than they want to know.
Little do they realize that no one will ever ask them about factory farming. That no one will want to hear their reasons. They think they must be prepared to defend this decision, but, as we all know, they don’t.
So there are all of these elements to people’s thought processes in choosing to eat animals, even when they (sort of) know they shouldn’t. Most people want to feel that they won’t be seen as odd, they want to feel that they won’t be deprived of enjoyment, they want to feel that other people won’t get annoyed with them, they want to feel that if they are inconveniencing themselves it’s accomplishing something, they want to feel that they can defend the choice if it’s questioned or attacked. And there are probably other ones I haven’t thought of.
As we all know, all these arguments have excellent counter arguments. But here is the thing: most people don’t change their behavior because of good arguments. If they did, the world would be so different in so many ways. Which isn’t to say the arguments aren’t important, and you don’t have to hone them. It’s just to say that people generally seem to use arguments as a post hoc explanation once they have already decided to change their behavior, and not as the reason, or at least the sole reason, to make that decision.
What actually makes them change their behavior is far more mysterious than just not having heard or understood your argument, and has to do with a constellation of forces that relate to all of these things and also relates to their own personality and how willing they are to buck the trend and to what their lives are like right now and what kind of pressures they are under and to whom they are married or who their parents are and who does the cooking and where they live and what their best friend eats. And all sorts of other things that our arguments are powerless against.
The really good news here is that, to the extent that social pressures matter, and that is likely a lot, the more people who change, the more other people will change. We are looking at a potential snowball effect. It’s way too slow, and the forces of evil are unimaginably powerful, but I really do believe it is happening, even if the snowball still seems quite tiny and melty and the snow isn’t sticking together as well as we want (am I taking that analogy too far?). Bit by bit, and due to the hard work of more and more people who care, the food is getting better, the knowledge is getting out there, not eating animals is becoming less odd, more enjoyable, less annoying to others, and more obviously useful every day.
The bad news is …. No, let’s not even go there. It’s too easy to get overwhelmed. No matter what, we still have to educate ourselves and hone all of our arguments and speak up whenever we have the chance, even if no one seems to want to listen. That way, when their moment comes to start asking questions, they will know who to call.
Mariann Sullivan is the co-host, along with Jasmin, of the Our Hen House podcast and the host of the Animal Law Podcast. She is an adjunct professor of Animal Law at Cornell Law School.
dear jasmin and mariann,
thank you for this!
i like this a lot: "The really good news here is that, to the extent that social pressures matter, and that is likely a lot, the more people who change, the more other people will change."
the whole piece is great! thank you for sharing it!
love,
myq
Lately, what has been bothering me more than people who know they shouldn't eat animals or animal products are the people who are activly advocating for eating amonals because they think it's beneficial for the planet, their health and EVEN the animals! A few months ago, I was checking out at the grocery store and the human I'm front of me commented to the cashier that meat was so expensive. The cashier said something like "for what those animals go through, it should probably cost more." I hadn't said a word. I do know this cashier and they were not vegan to the best of my knowledge. We had chatted ever since the pandemic. The person buying the meat questioned "do they really suffer though? I would have to talk to some farm animals," in a joking way, so I said "well, I think of you asked them if they wanted to die, they'd say no." That's a weak example, but that person really didn't think they suffered. About a year ago, I did a vedge pledge at work and did a presentation on the environmental, social and health impacts of food choices where I talked about the correlation between negative impacts on human health and the environment of animal products to which I got questions and emails sending me studies funded by the meat industry about the positive health and environmental impacts of meat, specifically beef. I pointed out the flaws of the study like a true avid listener of Dr. Gregor and got silence in return. Some people really believe that animals don't suffer and meat is good for them and the planet. Thats what I don't know what to do about.