For decades the skeptic movement has been using ideas about how we think to challenge what people think. Refuting bad arguments and false claims and, in particular, exposing those who make such claims for personal gain is what we do. Often, we think of personal gain as being equivalent to material profit. Homeopaths, faith healers, psychics and various other promoters of pseudoscience almost always stand to gain money from advancing their agendas.

The movement has a track record of exposing dubious claims for personal gain, yet there are some skeptics who make exactly the same sort of claims to defend the pleasure they gain from animal products

But there are other forms of personal gain, including pleasure, so we should expect to find people making poorly reasoned arguments and outright false claims to ensure that they can continue gaining pleasure from something. And, sure enough, such people exist — us. Almost all of us have rationalised an action which gives us pleasure at some point. Usually, it’s relatively minor decisions that we end up rationalising, like doing something more fun than studying: actions, in other words, that only affect ourselves.

However, when many people across the developed world rationalize the consumption of animal products, millions of nonhuman animals are affected every single year. And, unfortunately, it seems that at least some in the skeptic movement have a blind spot when it comes to this issue. The movement has a track record of exposing dubious claims for personal gain, yet there are some skeptics who make exactly the same sort of claims to defend the pleasure they gain from animal products.

Consider the appeal to nature*: the speciality of any charlatan who equates what is ‘natural’ with what is ‘good’ in order to sell a product. The website Natural News, for example, offers to email you ‘breaking news on natural cures’. This fallacy has been called out time and time again by skeptics*. Yet in the comments of Dr. Harriet Hall’s recent review of a book called ‘Vegan Betrayal’, you’ll find people, who presumably identify as skeptics and rationalists, claiming that ‘it is our nature’ to eat meat*. This was on Science-Based Medicine, one of the skeptic movement’s major online outlets, where appeals to nature are frequently rebutted on other issues*.

Other variations of this argument have been promulgated by the likes of the The Amazing Atheist on YouTube, who claims in one of his videos that evolution and the “selfish gene theory” demonstrate that the meaning of life is to propagate our genes. Thus, by breeding domesticated chickens for meat, we are helping chickens to pursue the meaning of life and have turned chickens into an evolutionary success story. Wild fowl, by contrast, are essentially ‘failing at life’*. Whether he and others like him are being entirely serious is beside the point, because many of his followers seem to genuinely accept these arguments.

People who identify as skeptics and atheists aren’t the only ones committing fallacies like this when it comes to veganism. But a possible danger of skeptics resorting to these common bad arguments is that they can make their arguments seem more superficially plausible, because they’re more likely to have studied real science and are more likely, in turn, to misuse that information in a discussion about veganism. As the psychologist Michael Shermer has put it:

smart people… are skilled at defending beliefs they arrived at for non-smart reasons.*

In the rationalist community, there are similar worries. Eliezer Yudkowsky, for instance, has stated that “knowing about biases can hurt people”. Instead of using knowledge about cognitive biases to examine their own beliefs as well as others’, some people may simply use this knowledge to selectively attack beliefs with which they disagree*.

Another danger, which I’ve worried about since before I became a vegan, is that a skeptic’s ‘baloney detection kit’ — to use a phrase coined by the great astronomer and skeptic Carl Sagan — can generate false positives. The actual tools in Sagan’s baloney detection kit were eminently sensible, but Sagan himself warned that, “like all tools, the baloney detection kit can be misused, applied out of context, or even employed as a rote alternative to thinking”*. It’s plausible that something akin to this can happen when skeptics may use usually reliable heuristics, or shortcuts, to detect ‘woo’ that may prejudice their views on certain matters.

One of these matters, I submit, is the subject of veganism. It is an unfortunate fact that too many vegans subscribe to pseudoscientific beliefs and commit logical fallacies. It may be the case that some skeptics see this and, instead of only believing that some vegans are like this, they themselves commit the fallacy of assuming that vegans are homogenous or that veganism is, at its core, pseudoscientific. It doesn’t help that diet is a major feature of veganism. With so many fad diets out there, the thought-process of some skeptics when thinking about veganism may be ‘the word diet is usually associated with fad diets; veganism is basically a diet, therefore veganism is a fad diet’.

People have emotions. They react negatively to things like proselytizing, but ‘we’re only human’ has never been a good enough excuse for skeptics and rationalists when others have tried to justify illogical beliefs or attitudes

One such occurrence of what I would call the hasty denunciation of veganism comes from the aforementioned review by Dr. Harriet Hall, who writes about vegans:

While some of them respect the dietary choices of others, some of them proselytize with religious-like fervor and are working to get their diet adopted by all of humanity.

This is telling: the skeptic community has, almost universally, decided that religions are based on false claims about reality and, as a result, proselytizing about religion is viewed in a negative light. I would take this view. Crucially, though, this does not entail that attempting to persuade ‘all of humanity’ to adopt a belief or practice is necessarily a negative thing – indeed, the skeptic movement itself has the aim of encouraging as many people as possible to view the world critically – and my fear is that many skeptics associate vegans who attempt to persuade people to adopt a vegan lifestyle with religious people, and that this therefore prejudices their views about the concept of veganism.

Part of this prejudice is implicit in the framing of veganism as a “dietary choice”, or a “personal choice”. Yet, for many reasonable vegans, it is above all an ethical choice, relying on the view that unnecessary suffering is wrong, regardless of the species of the individual who experiences it: suffering is suffering. And, given the empirical evidence that suffering occurs regularly in the meat industry, and that it is possible to survive and indeed thrive on a vegan diet*, it can be concluded that the suffering inflicted on nonhuman animals in the meat industry is unnecessary. Many vegans also recognise the overwhelming scientific consensus that anthropogenic climate change is really happening and that this issue should be dealt with because of the effects it will have on sentient beings, including humans. Given the evidence that a vegan lifestyle is responsible for fewer greenhouse gas emissions than a non-vegan lifestyle*, it is once again reasonable to adopt a vegan lifestyle. If we advocate for national governments to take action on emissions because of the effects those emissions have, we should ourselves reduce our emissions for the same reason: emissions are emissions, no matter who is responsible for them.

Even if some skeptics have fair-mindedly looked at these issues, decided that veganism is not a reasonable position to take, and then come to the view that vegan “proselytizing” in particular was a negative thing, I would still fault many in the skeptic community and similar communities for focusing on the “religious-like fervor” of some vegans – or indeed some religious people – in the first place. Such a focus is essentially an ad hominem* attack on vegans, and distracts from the arguments for veganism. In the comments beneath Dr. Hall’s review, for instance, one commenter appeared to start from the default position that all vegans adopt a vegan diet for reasons to do with sanctimony. Many vegans spend a lot of time thinking about perceptions of veganism, as opposed to the arguments for veganism. There are discussions about whether vegans should take direct action in the form of public protests, for example, and in these discussions the question of whether these protests would alienate people or ‘turn people off’ often comes up. In an ideal world, we wouldn’t have these worries, because people would simply be focused on the arguments.

This isn’t to say that vegans shouldn’t discuss tactics. It would be illogical not to take into account the fact that people often do base their decisions not on the arguments, but on their perceptions of the people making those arguments. One might expect rationally-minded people to be better at focusing solely on the arguments, but this problem extends to the effective altruism community too.

a possible danger of skeptics resorting to these common bad arguments is that they can make their arguments seem more superficially plausible

Effective altruism (often abbreviated to EA) is a social movement that focuses on using reason and evidence to determine the best ways to have the biggest positive effect on the world. Many of its adherents are concerned about the suffering of nonhuman animals and support the most effective animal charities*. The response to a debate about whether an effective altruist conference, EA Global 2015 in San Francisco, should serve exclusively vegan food illustrates this point*. Some non-vegans who attended the conference left with very positive perceptions about the cause of animal welfare, while others did not. Those who had negative perceptions were those who had heard about the vegan food controversy: they had came across the vegans who were ‘making a noise’ about the issue and this had influenced their view of the animal welfare cause negatively. By contrast, those who had positive perceptions had not heard about the controversy. This suggests that the politics of community debate (or the character of individual vegans) were taking centre stage – not the arguments or evidence.

People have emotions. They react negatively to things like proselytizing, but ‘we’re only human’ has never been a good enough excuse for skeptics and rationalists when others have tried to justify illogical beliefs or attitudes. The idea, for example, that religion is somehow innate to us is a claim that many skeptics and atheists have long thought irrelevant at best – as demonstrated by the continued arguments over the existence of gods – and dangerous at worst*. In addition, the recurring idea, even in parts of the rationally-minded communities of which I am part, that vegans should ‘respect the dietary choices’, as Dr. Hall put it, of non-vegans seems curious. Given that the skeptic community has long gone out and challenged the beliefs and actions of others, dismissing the cries from those who have had their beliefs debunked that we should “respect their beliefs”. Respecting their right to hold beliefs – of course! But respecting beliefs themselves is not something that skeptics are generally in the business of doing.

Why the double standard? One possibility is that some non-vegan skeptics view the vegan cause as being unworthy, because vegans are advocating on behalf of ‘lesser’ beings. We do live in a speciesist world, after all, whereby the interests of humans are still judged to be more important than the comparable interests of nonhumans, and there’s no reason to suspect that anti-speciesist ideas have taken hold in the skeptic community.

It goes without saying that there are many skeptics, atheists and rationalists who, even if they are not vegans, accept the arguments for veganism. Prominent examples include Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris (who is currently vegetarian), Paul Bloom* and other fair-minded people like Hank Green*.

On the whole, though, I would say that many skeptics should examine the lens through which they view the idea of veganism and avoid some of the pitfalls I have outlined. They should be wary of how easy it is to adopt rationalizations for positions we already hold and especially for actions – such as consuming animal products – that we regularly take. Vegans, meanwhile, can do their bit by embracing reasonable veganism, adopting tactics that will best encourage people to take veganism seriously, and challenging preconceptions about veganism as a fad or pseudoscientific diet.

If skeptical vegans and non-vegans complement each other in this way, I am cautiously optimistic that many more non-vegans in the skeptic community will update their beliefs and adopt a vegan lifestyle, or take steps towards eventually doing so.

It’s only possible to reject reason and consistency in certain arenas — and it’s convenient to reject them in the ones you don’t want to examine too closely.

One of the many things that I am unsure about, and one which I’m very concerned about getting right, is my argument for veganism. When I talk about it, I sketch it out in clear terms. If you:

1. care about the suffering of others
2. acknowledge the scientific evidence that animals experience suffering
3. want to be ethically consistent

then a sensible choice is to minimise the products you consume that contribute to suffering. That’s it — clean, concise and exact. Putting the argument in simple terms is a way for me to be honest with the person I’m speaking to, and with myself. It lays bare the potential vulnerabilities of my position and sets the scene for a productive discussion, rather than the confusing and emotional ones that I’ve instigated when not heeding the HB rule.

Typically the conversation will branch off into the discussion of the argument’s predicates: animal consciousness, which products contribute most to animal suffering, the utility of consistency, and so forth. That’s an excellent sign – my non-vegan interlocutor has picked up the pencil, and now we can edge toward the truth together, one careful line at a time. Sometimes, though, I find myself talking to someone who doesn’t share my ambition for clarity… and I feel myself being dragged down into the postmodern rabbit hole.

Scrutinizing the Inscrutable

It may seem a bit ironic to introduce the term ‘postmodern’ in an article about the benefits of clarity. Postmodernism is notoriously hard to define and many postmodernists are happy for it to remain so: one of the central features of postmodernism is an acceptance, and often a celebration, of ambiguity. Postmodernism is not really a coherent movement* . It was, at least originally, a response to a previous philosophical movement of the late nineteenth century that encouraged and supported enlightenment values such as reason, liberty and progress. Though there are many, often contradictory, positions advanced by proponents of postmodernism, the thing they all have in common is, in the words of Jean-Francis Lyotard in The Postmodern Condition, an ‘incredulity to meta-narratives’*. Meaning that postmodernists question the assumptions on which we build our understanding of the world.

Questioning assumptions is great. In fact, it sounds like it could be the first step in a manual for creating vegans. We are all incredulous of the ‘meta-narrative’ of speciesism* — that’s why we became vegan, right? But postmodernists don’t limit themselves to an injunction to think skeptically, they go on to criticise the very tools we use for skeptical inquiry. Writers like Michel Foucault insist that truth is culturally and historically relative*. Others go further and state that there is no objective truth, just a morass of perspectives*. Similarly, they might claim, the tools of reason and evidence that we use to try and apprehend the world clearly are just the preferred methods of our own culture and time, none more valid or accurate than any other*.

The claim that there is no objective truth seems like an oxymoron to me. How can it be objectively true that there is no objective truth? It’s like a Zen koan intended to invoke the destabilizing ‘great doubt’. This claim is insulated from criticism because the methods we might employ to critique it are the subject of its critique. Now, I could point out that there is no evidence to support the claim, that it is unfalsifiable and obtuse. But to a postmodernist who rejects evidence, reason and clarity, my objections are the irrelevant grumblings of simple-minded and intolerant rationalist.

Reasonable (and unreasonable) doubts

The postmodernists criticism of science has a valid origin. Some enlightenment scientists did tend towards the arrogance of Victor Frankenstein*, or the cruelty of Dr. Moreau*. Rich European men striding around in breeches telling people what to think are not particularly sympathetic characters — even when they are making some of the most important discoveries of all time. When postmodernists point out that the scientific method isn’t infallible, and the knowledge we’ve gathered with it is incomplete*, they are doing important work in humbling such scientists. Or at least they were: nowadays the Frankenstein caricature is less relevant. Contemporary scientists see the scientific method as the best way we have to understand the world, and its application as advancing the knowledge of humanity by small, careful increments. The accusation that ‘science isn’t perfect’ falls a little flat when the scientific method acknowledges its own weaknesses and has a built in process of re-examination and revision.

Scientific research doesn’t take place in a bubble. Though scientists aspire to objectivity, their work takes place in a social and cultural context that may affect what they study and the approaches they take. Most modern scientists acknowledge and attempt to mitigate potential biases in research, but some postmodern critics insist that this imperfect basis renders the whole scientific project useless — and that objective scientific knowledge is a social construct. It’s important to draw attention to possible flaws in scientific objectivity, but rejecting all scientific knowledge is absurd and dangerous. Based on scientific knowledge we make things that work, everywhere, for everyone. Bridges that have borne weight for centuries and vaccines that save the lives of European and African children alike. When postmodernists like Paul Feyerbend claim that science is a dogma no more valid than a religious or superstitious belief system*, I can’t help but think of people in third word countries rejecting medical aid because they believe that their local rituals are just as effective. If Feyerabend was right, there would be at least one documented case of magic performing the job of medicine. There isn’t.

Veganism is not a discourse, it is a rational moral position based on evidence.

Other postmodernists go further in their attack on science. Unsatisfied by their peers pointing out imperfections in the scientific method and claiming that it’s ‘just one system among many equally valid systems’, they tell us science is just straight up bad news. Some feminist postmodernists are particularly derogatory in their analysis of science. They see objectivity and rationality as masculine values* that have suppressed more feminine approaches to understanding, such as intuition, storytelling and social collaboration. It seems weird to me to hear feminists claiming that men are rational and women are intuitive. My feminism (and my personal experience with other women) has led me to believe that women and men are equally likely to be rational or irrational, and that we women are perfectly capable of doing science. Characterising science as inherently masculine is completely unfounded, and could have the consequence of discouraging young women from entering STEM fields. Feminists working to make STEM a more inclusive arena for women and minorities must be exasperated*. Their rational, sober criticisms and suggestions are eclipsed by claims that Newton’s Principia Mathematica is a ‘rape manual’*. Feminists, like vegans, need to embrace science because the radical notion that ‘women are human beings’* is like the radical notion that ‘humans are animals’; it’s supported by science. If we instead champion non-consistent or non-rational causes, as postmodernism does, then irrational opinions like sexism and speciesism can thrive.

Within reason

I wrote this for a site called ‘Reasonable Vegan’, so I guess it’s unsurprising that I would defend reason. Any reasonable argument consists of a series of assumptions based on empirical evidence that lead in a consistent fashion to a conclusion. If the value of logic or consistency is disputed, then such an argument cannot exist. There’s nothing more frustrating than talking to someone who admits that the argument for veganism makes perfect sense, but refuses to accept it because they don’t care that they are being inconsistent. Oh no, wait, there is something more frustrating than that: when you ask someone if your argument makes sense to them and they say ‘I don’t think there is such a thing as sense to be made’. This is philosopher David Hume’s response to this sort of remark:

Whether your scepticism be as absolute and sincere as you pretend, we shall learn by and by, when the company breaks up: we shall then see, whether you go out at the door or the window.*

It’s only possible to reject reason and consistency in certain arenas — and it’s convenient to reject them in the ones you don’t want to examine too closely.

The HB rule keeps things simple. Productive discussion thrives in an environment when everyone speaks honestly and clearly because we are able to understand and engage with each others’ ideas. What sort of discourse could possibly benefit from obscurantism? The philosopher Judith Butler* took a surprising position on this question, asserting that the enigmatic writing style favoured by postmodernists was preferable to transparency. Postmodern writers are famed for their impenetrable prose. Here is a ‘far from untypical’ example sentence from Homi Bhabha’s The Location of Culture:

If, for a while, the ruse of desire is calculable for the uses of discipline, soon the repetition of guilt, justification, pseudo-scientific theories, superstition, spurious authorities and classification can be seen as the desperate effort to ‘normalise’ normally the disturbance of a discourse of splitting that violates the rational enlightened claims of its enunciatory modality.*

Some readers assume that because the language is so complex, their incomprehension must be because of their own shortcomings. Others suspect that the texts are deliberately confusing to hide confused thinking*. The physicist Alan Sokal tested the latter theory in 1996 by submitting several essays to popular postmodern journal, Social Text*. The essays were completely nonsensical, but written in the postmodern style and referencing the work of well regarded postmodernist writers. His essays were accepted and published, demonstrating his theory that no-one, not even the publishers of Social Text, understood or attempted to analyse the legitimacy of the ideas that the postmodernists were promulgating.

Making sense

Sokal’s hoax was driven by a rationalist’s distaste for confused and confusing writing, but also by commitment to his leftist politics. In Intellectual Imposters, Sokal and his co-author Jean Bricmont quote Noam Chomsky’s concerns with the way that postmodernism discourages political action:

If you really feel, Look, it’s too hard to deal with real problems, there are lots of ways to avoid doing so. One of them is to go off on wild goose chases that don’t matter. Another is to get involved in academic cults that are very divorced from any reality and that provide a defence against dealing with the world as it actually is.*

Sokal, like many other social justice advocates, was concerned about the postmodern project because they could see how it undermined the values of freedom and liberty that they were trying to promote. Postmodernists assert that everything is subjective, including moral claims. Vegans like Gary Steiner reject this position: they see the moral imperative for veganism as absolute*. I’m more sympathetic to the relativistic position than Steiner. I agree with the postmodernists that there is no objective morality encoded into the universe, but I don’t think this means all ethical decisions are equal. Based on certain very obvious observations (like the one I start my vegan argument with — that we care about the suffering of others), I think we can build a moral structure based on reason and evidence that allows us to derive rules for ethical conduct. Postmodernists assert that morality is relative and that reason is inadequate, which leaves them unable to make moral judgements. Without the ability to evaluate what is good or bad, postmodernists are unable to campaign for social change or improvement in any coherent manner.

As vegans, we should be concerned about a movement that argues that everything is merely a discourse, and that every discourse is equally valid. Veganism is not a discourse, it is a rational moral position based on evidence. I think that’s superior to the unexamined speciesism of our society.

Now, the definition of postmodernism I gave in this article is probably inadequate. I really struggled to pin down what postmodernists are saying, and that particular difficulty doesn’t seem to be uncommon. I don’t think understanding their claims is going to get any clearer in the future, either, as the original postmodern texts are forgotten and the ideas they raised mutate and proliferate. Postmodernism has influenced so many different areas of academia, politics, social justice efforts and social media that it is becoming normal. Many conversations happening now about vitally important issues are, often unknowingly, influenced by postmodernism, sometimes for the better but often for the worse. When I see these nebulous ideas creeping into veganism it concerns me, but I feel impotent to stop them. Fighting anti-rationality, obscurantism and relativism is like fighting smoke.

The only defence against this smoke monster is with our freshly sharpened HB pencils. If we continue to make our arguments simple and clear, base them in reason and evidence, and endeavour to be consistent then we will be hard to dismiss. When confronted by a claim, ask for supporting evidence. When confronted by an elaborate confusing hunk of text, ask for clarification. It is a mark of honesty and integrity to say that something doesn’t make sense to you. And if you can’t figure out what someone’s saying it could be because they’re not saying anything at all.

Hi Jean, thanks so much for taking the time to speak to us. So, what inspired you to get involved with vegan advocacy?

After reading John Robbins’ book Diet For A New America in 1994, I went vegan overnight and could not help but become an activist for animals.

There are many different vegan charities and organisations that you could devote your time to, why did you choose the Vegan Outreach Mentoring program?

I discovered Vegan Outreach in 2000 and noticed how different their philosophy is from the other animal rights groups I had supported for years. Rather than chase every form of animal abuse, they focus on the issue involving the most animals exploited by humans (99.7%) and for which every single person could make a difference–animals used for food. By addressing the dissonance of how our society loves some animals and eats others, they address the root problem that leads to so many other rationalizations for animal abuse. In other words, as long as our society reinforces, with every meal, the idea that it’s okay to kill animals, it will be hard to make headway in other areas of animal exploitation.

Vegan Outreach addresses this problem with the Adopt-A-College Program in which millions of educational leaflets are handed out to young people on college and high schools campuses as well as entertainment venues. This is the demographic most receptive to social justice change.

What does a vegan mentor do and why do you think that mentoring is important?

A vegan mentor is a volunteer from anywhere in the world (currently 28 countries and every U.S. state except two), usually a long time vegan, who would like to help others one-on-one with adopting and maintaining a cruelty-free lifestyle.

The mentor may help the mentee with things like meal ideas, nutritional information, tips on shopping for food, dealing with uncomfortable social situations, feelings of isolation, and having little or no support from friends and family.

This program is just as important for mentors as for mentees. I hear from so many people who want to help animals by spreading this non-violent philosophy, but have no real outlet for doing so. This huge amount of untapped passion is a valuable resource that needs to be harnessed for the benefit of this movement and to address recidivism among vegans.

The ultimate winners in the program are the animals, of course. Connecting like-minded people strengthens the animal rights movement.

Recently there has been more and more research into effective activism and although this research is in it’s infancy some outreach techniques and approaches seem to have more evidence supporting their efficacy than others. At this stage how useful do you think this research is for vegan advocacy ?

I do not believe there is sufficient data for meaningful results at present, but as more people adopt this lifestyle, studies will improve. Vegan Outreach is currently conducting research about leafleting and Pay Per View and we hope to have solid results within a few years.

You must have spoken to hundreds of new vegans while working for Vegan Outreach. What in your experience are the main motivations for their initial interest in veganism?

According to the Mentor Program statistics - health, animals and environment seem to be equally motivating factors.

Have you noticed any demographic trends in these new vegans?

Our mentors and mentees are mostly young people; 43% are age 13-24, 25% are age 25-34, 6% are age 55 and older. They are 85% female and mostly concentrated near large metropolitan areas.

Obviously your work is focused on helping people become vegan but how do you feel about campaigns that encourage meat reduction or vegetarianism either as baby steps towards veganism or ends-in themselves?

Elimination of unnecessary animal suffering is the goal, but not doable overnight in the real world, so we will have to settle for gradual change. Therefore, ANY reduction in suffering is an improvement over none. If everyone in the U.S. cut their meat, dairy, and egg intake by 50%, 5 billion out of 10 billion land animals slaughtered per year in the U.S. would be spared. If one out of 7 meat eaters observed “Meatless Mondays,” 1.5 billion land animals would be spared.

A couple of years ago the Humane Research Council released a report about vegetarian recidivism* which caused much concern and discussion. Do you see recidivism as a big problem for veganism? And if so, how do you think we should address it?

Yes, recidivism is a major issue. Twenty eight per cent of the mentees who sign up for our program are already vegan but would like support from another vegan. Lack of convenience is a major hurdle for maintaining a vegan diet over the long term, but this is improving as more and more people demand vegan options in grocery stores and restaurants.

Researchers like Nick Cooney stress the importance of building vegan community as a way to encourage new vegans to stay vegan by supporting them practically and embracing veganism as part of their personal identity. Other animal advocates argue that by calling ourselves vegan we create barriers between ourselves and non-vegans that can hinder dialogue and potentially make advocacy harder. How useful do you think that the vegan label is? and how does it affect your interactions with new vegans or the vegan-curious?

In my opinion, the word “vegan” is a useful, shorthand way of identifying one’s philosophy and I think we should own it, making it clear that it is synonymous with a compassionate lifestyle, not just a diet. On occasion, I might use other language, such as “cruelty-free,” or “plant-based” when talking with people who might not be familiar with the word “vegan.”

If any of our readers would like to help mentor new vegans through Vegan Outreach’s program how can they get involved?

Sign up here. New mentors and mentees are always welcome!

One of the primary scientific explanations for which scores of scientists dismiss the possibility that fish can feel pain is that fish do not have the same pain receptors that we and other mammals do, which are called C-nociceptors* , and lack the neocortex* of which we humans are especially proud. Instead, fish have other types of nociceptors that are commonly described as having the ability to react to potentially damaging stimuli by exhibiting a “reflex withdrawal.” Studies in which fish were exposed to toxic stimuli and reacted by moving away or avoiding the source of the stimuli in the future are often summarized thus: The fish’s nociceptors caused them to reflexively avoid the toxin— without ever causing them the sensation of pain.

Reflex is defined primarily by its immediate and involuntary nature*. The distinction here is an important one, as it implies that fish, when avoiding stimuli, do not actually remember sensing any discomfort, nor do they cognitively know the source of it. We are expected to believe that their bodies function like machinery, moving towards what is good for them and away from what is bad for them without any real decision making process taking place.

My own research has confirmed, as Beckoff’s article does, that fish do in fact feel pain— which others sometimes describe as “discomfort.” The reluctance to use the word pain in relation to fish and instead use the milder term “discomfort” is reminiscent to me of the reluctance to use the word language when we talk about birds and whales, and instead employ phrases such as “vocal learning*.” These rhetorical nuances serve the purpose of preserving for us humans what we believe makes us superior to other life forms, while relegating whatever talents or abilities other creatures have to second-class status. We remain as a species ever reluctant to admit that anyone else can do what we do or feel what we feel.

Furthermore, humans have a tendency to empathize with and more strongly identify with those who we perceive to be “like us,” especially with regard to appearance. This tendency persists even within our own species. So while the sad eyes of a dog or cat can move us, the inscrutable eyes of a fish or a lobster do not. We must dig deeper within ourselves to find empathy for these creatures.

A 2004 study at the University of Guelph* in Ontario, Canada confirmed that beyond pain, fish are also capable of experiencing fear— and remembering it. In one part of the study, fish were exposed to a net, which was not used to harm them but which disrupted their routine, and were allowed to escape through a small door to an adjacent net-free tank. Then, they were shown a light just a few seconds before the net was plunged into their vicinity. This went on for about a week until eventually, the fish were able to recognize the light as a precursor to the net, and would flee to the adjacent tank before the net appeared.

Such activity cannot be dismissed as mere reflex. The first time the light appeared before the net, the fish did not flee; this response, therefore, was not immediate, but rather learned. The act was also voluntary, as the fish chose to avoid the stimuli rather than reflexively moving away from it. Were this response to the light involuntary, it would be identical every time the light was shone, whether the first or the fifteenth.

While fish lack a neocortex, they do in fact have nervous systems, and these complex nervous systems include neurotransmitters such as pain-relieving endorphins*. Why would anyone’s body naturally produce painkillers if that someone is incapable of experiencing pain? These endorphins serve no other practical purpose; they are not nutrient rich, don’t aid digestion, or anything of the sort. They strictly serve the function of relieving a sensation that people have argued for far too long fish simply never experience.

With such a preponderance of evidence that fish feel pain and fear at our fingertips, why does this remain such a bitter pill for folks to swallow? From a sociocultural perspective, I think it has to do with the way we perceive fish based on observation. Fish, to the naked eye, are “boring”— particularly in the settings in which most of us encounter live fish, which is in a small tank in someone’s living room, often alone but sometimes with three or four other fish, of different breeds. It’s hard for us to imagine that they can have any sort of rich inner life— that they can understand, say, prestige, companionship or cooperation.

In fact, many breeds of fish do have extensive social lives, though not much can be known of any “inner life” they might have due to the obvious communication barrier between us and them. Before we go any further, though, I would like to reaffirm my belief that even if they did not have such complex social lives, even if they were just mindless swimming robots who happen to experience pain and fear, but not much else, I still believe they deserve as much protection as any other sentient being. They have demonstrated, over and over again, their capacity for suffering, and we as humans should not seek to contribute to said suffering, no matter how simple or insignificant their lives may appear to us.

That said, I was very surprised to learn in researching fish for Until Every Animal is Free* that they are capable of both creating sophisticated social networks and cooperating with one another to achieve common goals. In closing, I would like to share with you a brief except from the book that highlights some of these impressive capabilities:

In short, yes, fish feel pain. Not only do they feel pain, but they are also capable of experiencing fear, of learning, and of cooperation. Fish are killed in greater numbers* than any other nonhuman animal for the sake of human consumption. How much more evidence do we need of their consciousness before we start protecting them as we endeavor to protect pigs, cows, chickens, and other enslaved and exploited animals?

There’s a lot of talk in the vegan community about whether having children is a good idea or not. Obviously the default human position is that giving birth is encouraged, or at least accepted. Most of us exist as a result of the decision to create life, and government policies that attempt to restrict procreation are met with harsh criticism. Conversely, almost every nation offers paid paternity leave*, and only a minority of nations allow abortions when health is not a factor*.

In philosophy, the pro-birth position is called natalism (or sometimes pronatalism), and the moral objection to procreation is called, unsurprisingly, antinatalism*. Contemporary antinatalists, like many contemporary vegans, tend to focus on the problem of suffering: put simply, every child will necessarily suffer if they exist, but they can’t suffer if they don’t exist, so procreation results in suffering. Some vegan antinatalists see the act of refusing to partake in animal industry as an expression of antinatalism – without adequate financial incentive, farmers won’t breed more animals for industrial abuse.

While many humans’ lives are not as bad as those of factory-farmed animals, everybody will suffer considerable evil. The only way to prevent that is not to bring them into existence.

Antinatalism has a long and storied history. Socrates is credited with the remark ‘to live is to be sick for a long time’; the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer advanced the idea in the nineteenth century*, and the philosopher/comedian Peter Wessel Zapffe continued in the following century*. More recently the character Rustin Cohle in the television show True Detective expresses clear antinatalist (if misanthropic) tendencies, the comedian Doug Stanhope has proposed paying people not to have children*, and the maniacal YouTube personality Freelee the Banana Girl has made her antinatalist views known.

The most comprehensive argument for antinatalism to date was given by the philosopher David Benatar* in his 2006 book Better Never to Have Been. His book made me reconsider many of my prior beliefs about the moral issues surrounding procreation, and I highly recommend it. It’s not a coincidence that Benatar is a vegan, and I was delighted to get the chance to ask him some of the burning questions that I and the community have wondered about.

RVGN: Antinatalists often describe the choice to have a child as a gamble. In Better Never to Have Been you discuss the different potential outcomes of procreation by comparing a scenario in which a person exists to one in which they do not:

Can you explain why you think the odds favour a negative outcome for the offspring of people who chose to procreate?

DB: My view is not merely that the odds favour a negative outcome, but that a negative outcome is guaranteed. The analogy I use is a procreational Russian Roulette in which all the chambers of the gun contain a live bullet. The basis for this claim is an important asymmetry between benefits and harms. The absence of harms is good even if there is nobody to enjoy that absence. However, the absence of a benefit is only bad if there is somebody who is deprived of that benefit. The upshot of this is that coming into existence has no advantages over never coming into existence, whereas never coming into existence has advantages over coming into existence. Thus so long as a life contains some harm, coming into existence is a net harm.

RVGN: In the last few years consent has become an important issue for those of us concerned with human rights. Generally, we believe that potentially harmful actions should not be enacted without the express consent of all those involved. Vegan advocates have pointed out that non-human animals are unable to consent to any of the harms we regularly subject them to. Like non-human animals, non-existent people do not have the ability to consent to being brought into existence, and yet we often believe that making the decision to bring new people in the world is acceptable because we can be reasonably sure that they will retrospectively consent once they are able to do so.

Why do you think this assumption fails to solve the issue of consent?

DB: The assumption that most people brought into existence will retrospectively consent to their creation is likely true. However, it does not justify our bringing children into existence. This is partly because we have reason to think that the preference of most people to have come into existence is an “adaptive preference” — a preference that people develop in order to cope with an unfortunate situation. When the infliction of harm causes the person harmed to come to consent to it, we should be very wary. If, for example, lobotomizing somebody caused that person to endorse the lobotomization, we would not – and should not – think that the retrospective consent justifies the practice.

RVGN: You advance the argument that ‘coming into existence is always a harm’ based on the indisputable fact that all sentient beings will, at some point in their lives, experience suffering. In your work you point out that many people suffer from chronic ailments in addition to the everyday suffering of existence, and how the few neutral or pleasant states we experience are outweighed by these negative experiences. To take an example from my own life I recognise that my chronic (though thankfully mild!) back pain gives me more negative experiences than pleasurable experiences. That said, weighing my back pain against my general ‘chronic happiness’ (or contentment) I think my back pain loses.

Do you contend that suffering outweigh our contentment for those of us lucky enough to experience chronic happiness?

DB: I do think that the bad outweighs the good in even the happiest lives. The reason why this seems so strange is that (most) humans have psychological traits that lead to their underweighting the bad and thus thinking that in their lives as a whole there is more good than bad. The most prominent of these traits is an optimism bias, but there are others too.

RVGN: In your book you cite several studies demonstrating the optimism bias. Even people who experience extreme misfortunes and suffering tend to have an optimisic view of their lives. This hedonic adaption is obviously evolutionarily advantageous – those of us who found our suffering unbearable were less likely to live long enough to pass on our genes. You draw our attention to how inaccurate humans are in assessing the quality of their lives. But couldn’t this very misjudgement be used as an argument for procreation? That is, if all potential people are going to believe they are happy, then why not create more seemingly happy lives?

DB: First, it’s not true that all potential people are going to have a positive outlook. There are many who find life a struggle. Second, while the misjudgement may make lives less bad than they would otherwise be, it does not follow that the quality of life is as good as it is misjudged to be. It is still possible for life to be worse than one thinks it is. The concern about adaptive preferences applies here too.

RVGN: When someone contends that the pleasure in their lives outweighs the suffering, many antinatalists might remind them of the optimism bias and suggest that they could be incorrect in the assessment of their own wellbeing. This seems to make the claim that suffering outweighs pleasure practically unfalsifiable, and therefore suspect.

Is there any way that someone could satisfactorily disprove the antinatalists’ ‘suffering outweighs pleasure’ theory?

DB: Noting the optimism bias and other psychological traits that lead to overestimation of the quality of life is only the first step in the argument. We can then point to a host of facts about the good and bad things in life. Here we should recognize some important empirical asymmetries that support a pessimistic conclusion. For example, the most intense pleasures are short-lived but pain is much more enduring. The worst pains are also worse than the best pleasures are good. Injury is swift but recovery is slow. These are but a few examples. All these claims can be assessed against the facts. They are not unfalsifiable.

RVGN: Some opponents of antinatalism accuse antinatalists of falling prey to a ‘pessimism bias’, which is common in people who suffer from depression. How do you respond to people who suggest that your assessment of the relative quantities of suffering and happiness is affected by your own emotional state, and not measurable evidence from the external world?

DB: I am not depressed. I do have a pessimistic view, but that, I argue, is what the evidence warrants. Thus I invite opponents of antinatalism to consider the evidence fairly. I have only gestured at it here, but your readers can find a fuller treatment not only in Better Never to Have Been but also in Debating Procreation (where I debate the issues with David Wasserman).

RVGN: Another question often levelled at antinatalists can be generalised as, if existence is so awful, why not end your life? Does an antinatalist have to be pro-suicide in order to be logically consistent?

DB: No, being an antinatalist does not entail being pro-mortalist, at least not always. An antinatalist can think that it is bad both to begin existing and to cease existing. Indeed one reason why it might be bad to begin existing is that we shall die. This is not to say that death is always bad all things considered. At some point the quality of life may become so bad that death is the lesser evil. It does not follow that one should kill oneself well before that point. However, the prospect that life will get so bad that death is the least bad option is excellent reason for thinking that coming into existence is bad. If we never exist we face neither the suffering of life nor the annihilation brought on by death.

RVGN: Although many vegans either have—or look forward to having—children, we are staunch antinatalists when it comes to the breeding of non-human animals for human consumption or entertainment. Few of us believe we are saving animals’ lives by abstaining from animal products; rather, we realise that we are saving animals from being born by decreasing demand for certain products. How does your antinatalism influence the way you think about veganism?

DB: You’re quite right about the inconsistency. One commonly hears the following sort of argument from meat-eaters: “If we did not eat the sorts of animals that are bred for food, those animals would not have had an opportunity to live. Thus we have done them a favour by breeding them for human consumption.”

This is an appalling argument. Imagine somebody proposing to give many more humans the “benefit” of life by breeding them and then killing them after a short life of suffering. The fundamental flaw in the argument is that nobody has an interest in coming into existence.

While many humans’ lives are not as bad as those of factory-farmed animals, everybody will suffer considerable evil. The only way to prevent that is not to bring them into existence. Since that course of action has zero cost for those not brought into existence, we should desist from creating suffering humans, just as we should desist from creating suffering non-human animals.

RVGN: As vegans we are concerned with non-human animal suffering, but as researcher Brian Tomasik has pointed out* we tend to predominantly focus on human-caused animal suffering.

We know that wild animals suffer from predation, disease and injury and that the majority of suffering experienced on earth is borne by wild animals. Brian argues that as human populations increase, wild animal populations decrease due to our encroachments on their habitats and resource use, and therefore the overall level of suffering decreases.

If Brian is right* and the number of humans is inversely proportional to overall net suffering, shouldn’t those of us concerned about suffering be pronatalists, or at least not oppose the desires of other humans to procreate?

DB: I agree that the vast majority of (non-human) animal suffering is that of wild animals - caused by other wild animals or by naturally induced starvation, disease and injury. This is cause for deep gloom – another way in which pessimism is supported by the evidence. I also agree that human rapaciousness has encroached on animal habitats and reduced animal populations – in the case of many species to the point of extinction. However, we cannot infer pronatalism from this. Indeed, Brian Tomasik himself recognizes this, and calls only for the inclusion of wild animals’ suffering in our moral calculations and for further research.

The problem is that attempting to do good by harmful means is controversial at the best of times. It is still more problematic when the causal networks are so complex that we may well end up having inflicted much more harm than we will have prevented. This error is so common in human history that we ignore it only at our moral peril. The very human activities that reduce animal populations, thereby preventing suffering, also have many (non-lethal) harmful effects on present and future beings. Those who would confidently argue that the benefits outweigh the costs should be reminded that even mass extinction does not reduce suffering if other (sentient) species emerge or proliferate in the vacated niche. It is estimated that 99.9% of all species that ever existed have become extinct. Suffering has not ended. Instead it has instantiated in new species. This is not to say that the extinction of all sentient life will never occur. I am only saying that we should not assume that this will result from rampant human pronatalism.

RVGN: Many vegan parents hope that, by raising compassionate children, they will contribute to future improvements in the world for animals and humans. Though not every child raised vegan will continue that lifestyle, it does seem plausible that a child raised to care about the suffering of others is more likely to make a positive contribution to the world. Because your argument for antinatalism is built upon a concern for the suffering of others, it seems likely that altruistic people would be more likely to adopt that sort of philosophy.

Are you concerned that by encouraging people not to procreate you could be decreasing the number of altruists in the human population, and therefore slowing ethical progress?

DB: If I am correct that bringing somebody into existence inflicts a terrible harm on that person, we should be worried about prospective parents who are willing to inflict that harm on their potential children in the hope that those children will help spare others suffering. Part of the worry is about those parents instrumentalising their children. How compassionate is it to do that? And what example are they setting? Another worry, however, is whether any child raised even by compassionate people would indeed make the world a better place. In The Misanthropic Argument for Anti-natalism*, I point to just how much harm humans cause. Vegans, all other things being equal, do less damage than their omnivorous conspecifics. However, even vegans do some damage. Moreover, all other things are rarely equal.

Those who still want to raise compassionate children might consider adopting, thereby saving two birds from one stone. Those who adopt care for a child who would otherwise have had no parents, and they rear it as well as possible. They prevent suffering (of the otherwise parentless child) and they prevent suffering (that that child would cause if it were raised less well).

RVGN: Thank you so much for your time! We hope interested readers will go on to explore your ideas in more detail in your book Better Never to Have Been, and that this interview can contribute to the vegan conversation about antinatalism becoming better informed and more productive.

In my experience, most vegans are pro-life when it comes to animals, but that sentiment is not often extended to human pregnancy. I think, anyway; we don’t seem to be talking about it much at all. It’s only come up once that I can remember, in a tweet directed at @rvgn_org (amongst others):

Y aren't more moral vegans/vegetarians pro-life?not being an ass, just curious @JaclynGlenn @Onision @laineybot @unnaturalvegan @rvgn_org

— Evbot (@evbot16) 26 February 2016

At the time we gave an off-the-cuff response explaining that veganism is (at least for us) a practice of trying to reduce the suffering we cause to sentient animals – and foetuses (especially at stages earlier than 30 weeks, when the majority of abortions take place) don’t seem to fall into that category*. In retrospect, that doesn’t seem like a very complete answer.

Abortion is a pretty volatile and controversial subject that happens to be an intersection of philosophical, religious and scientific thought. Many people consider it a complex problem, while a minority of others consider the solution so transparently obvious that it’s frustrating when the rest of the world don’t see it, or won’t take action. If that dichotomy of thought sounds familiar you, you’re not alone. To help understand the issues, we’ve drafted in an expert.

PMF: So, Rob: If vegans are so concerned with saving lives, then why isn’t the default vegan position on abortion pro-life?

RJ: It’s another interesting one, isn’t it. Firstly, let’s unpick the idea of ‘pro-life’. In US politics that term is a hot potato, but it isn’t rationally defined very well. It’s incredibly ambiguous, and the word ‘life’ is used for any foetus at any stage. That’s an accurate definition in only one very set, biological category; a foetus (in all but the last few stage or so) is ‘alive’ in the same way a plant is, in that it grows and thrives in certain situations (i.e., the womb). But ethical vegans tend to draw a line between ‘sentient’ and ‘non-sentient’, not ‘organically developmental’ and ‘non-organically developmental’. Different vegans believe different things, but in general it tends not to be about avoiding the abuse of organic properties, so much as avoiding the suffering of conscious individuals. That’s a massive difference.

That’s also the rational thing to believe: pulling a plant up is not inherently harmful, for the same reason that stopping the growth of a few human cells isn’t. Just because the cells are forming the early shape of a human baby, and inside a human body, rather than forming a stem and flower from a bulb, doesn’t change the fact; if there is no conscious life within that organic compound, it’s just an organic compound. And an organic compound is no more able to suffer or experience pain than an inorganic compound. A plant is equal to a rock in terms of suffering. Sentience is the relevant difference. Similarly, responding to stimulus is not one and the same as sentience.

This is why championing the cause of ‘pro-choice’ is important. That organic compound within the womb takes a long time to develop consciousness – and thus to hold sentience. But the woman, whose womb it is, is conscious the whole time. If she is suffering, or being tortured by carrying a baby she doesn’t want – or worse still, doesn’t want the pain or suffering of child birth – then that is something we should take seriously. And given that we have the medical knowledge to help get those cells out of her, we err greatly by denying her the right to do so.

There’s no difference between a foetus in the earlier stages and semen, in rational terms. Cells are cells. So we should be pro-choice in abortion for the same reasons we are pro-choice about whether men want to carry ejaculated semen around in their pocket all day. Sure, give them the choice to carry it around, it might form something meaningful (if you’ve got an ice pack in there, it might create a baby one day). But, apart from some arguably primitive catholic communities, we don’t make men worship their own semen, so we shouldn’t make women worship the cells forming inside them either.

Plenty of vegans disagree. I’ve known a fair few back when I was more involved in the activist community. Unsurprisingly, these ‘pro-life’ vegans I knew tended to be from Christian families, or were often Sunday church attenders. It’s great that we live in a society where people can hold absurd views, like this. It’s just not so great they want to hold them. The use of religion to justify views which cause suffering to women is one of the reasons I oppose religion as a moral matter, whether it has led someone to veganism or not. I like the saying ‘even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in awhile’. Religion might lead to some moral decisions, or it might not; it’s not a good method of consistent truth finding, as it makes claims based on the beliefs of mythical figures. To be entirely ‘pro-life’, if you’re vegan for religious reasons, is entirely consistent. But that’s only because you can more or less do what you want if you justify it by reference to the will of someone who either doesn’t exist, else is conveniently uncontactable.

There is of course an important topic in all of this; that is, when does a foetus switch from a set of cells to a conscious individual? No-one has the exact answer to that. We know that the moment an egg merges with a sperm is not it. We know that when it starts to significantly grow isn’t it either – we know that you need much more than a few cells, even in fairly complex structures, to have consciousness. It may be that, realistically, some extremely premature babies are not even sentient yet. It’s feasible that you can grow organic compounds in various settings without sentience being present, and it might well happen with organic pre-humans.

That actually seems likely, as it appears sensible to suppose that brains don’t just go from ‘cells’ to ‘brain’ in a single second of its formation. Rather it’s likely a gradual process where it goes from something akin to the organic compound of a growing plant, to something like a very primitive human brain, but without it functioning fully, to something that can experience suffering. It’s very possible that a pre-human being could survive in artificial wombs, or on its own in the early stages of life, without any meaningful type of sentience being present. Indeed, an important point to consider is this: doesn’t it seem evolutionarily unnecessary for foetuses to be sentient for so long whilst still in the womb?

That statement doesn’t provide any meaningful evidence either way, but it does ask that you question your assumptions about at what point foetuses become sentient. Sentience was a necessary development for creatures to better exploit their surroundings, and so to increase the chances of passing on their genes. It seems odd that it would appear too long before birth (though it’s sensible to assume it must start to develop at some point before birth). The important issue then becomes a matter of: is the early form of sentience which a baby is experiencing, really equal to any suffering the mother might have of its growth? Probably not, at least until the very last stages. And even then I’m not convinced.

The case of sentience in foetuses is really something we would need to be discussing with brain development experts, though; people with a background in understanding the philosophy as well as the neuro-psychology. Whilst the examples I give are rational possibilities, and interesting to consider, the exact point at which we can say sentience appears is something better informed through neuroscience. But that is what’s important to most vegans: sentience. Not organic matter and not arbitrary, biological definitions of ‘life’.

The ambitious project I’m talking to Ian about today is his series on the history of vegetarianism, a fifteen part radio program that will cover thousands of years—and miles—to document our movement’s epic past.

Ian funded the production of Vegetarianism: the Story so Far through Kickstarter. Here’s a short video of him introducing the project and requesting support. Even though the campaign has ended, the video is still worth watching for a glimpse inside the infamous duvet studio.

Now the first and second episode of Vegetarianism the Story so Far are available to listen to, and we eagerly await the next installment. While we wait I was excited to ask Ian a few questions about the project.

Hi Ian, thanks so much for taking the time to answer a few questions about your radio program. So first, what inspired you to dig into the history of vegetarianism?

It was a story that needed telling and that hadn’t been told in audio. The full history of vegetarianism had been on the back-burner as something to cover in The Vegan Option. (Actually, the back-burner literally exists. It’s a page at All Our Ideas where listeners can vote on new episodes.) And the more I examined it, the more I realised it was a lot more than just a couple of episodes.

So out of that, came a plan to crowdfund the expenses for something really ambitious - a (hopefully) landmark series that will really stand the test of time. I knew that doing the story justice actually involved going to some of the places where the story unfolded, so that I can really bring the generation-by-generation struggle for animals to life.

Can you give us a rough timeline of the events that you cover in the series so we can appreciate the scope of your project?

It’s the full story of the idea that humans should spare other animals, from pre-history to the present. And it follows all kinds of incarnations of that idea through history - the “ahimsa” of iron age Indian philosophers, the ascetic fasting of Christian monks, and organised vegetarianism in modernity. It’s an awfully big story.

In the first episode of the series you travel to India to speak to scholars about some of the first adherents to a vegetarian diet. What was your experience of travelling and eating in India like?

I think the most powerful moment was when I came back to the UK and I saw a street with some restaurants in it, and I realised the signage didn’t all say whether it was “vegetarian” or “non-vegetarian”. India is great for vegans. There’s a little bit of explaining - I had the multilingual vegan passport with me* - but that’s no different to the UK. And there’s an awful lot more food in India.

Even if a place used butter ghee in everything, the south Indian vegetarian dishes are almost all vegan. Not just the standard dahl and rice with side dishes, but also the idli with sambar (soup) for breakfast; the dosas, the fried savour doughnuts, the coconut chutney.

Okay. I’m hungry now.

Many vegans are probably familiar with the term Ahimsa, but don’t fully understand its context. Can you give us an overview of the concept and explain why it is so important?

Well, “ahimsa” is a word that took several centuries to emerge, and then got used in different contexts (and languages) for two thousand years, so there are going to be nuances in how different people use it. I sent some test versions of the show out to get some responses, and listeners were confused by the fact that different guests pronounce it in different ways.

Prof Richard Gombrich dissects it as a (“not) + “hims” (“to strike”). Which is typically Buddhist - for them intention is what matters. And some others do trace its etymology to a word meaning killing. Jain philosophy, on the other hand, cares more about whether you actually do harm. It’s possible they use it more literally, but I haven’t checked. (Learning to stop myself from checking everything has been an important skill.)

The usual English translation is “non-violence”, which I’ve kept to when summarising. I’d use it to describe why I was vegan long before I looked into the proper context. There just wasn’t a good enough word in English. But “non-harm” is a closer translation - it describes an aspiration to not hurt others rather than the way it’s used in the west, as more of a political pacifism.

In the Jain, Buddhist and Hindu traditions that you explore it seems vegetarianism arose from a spiritual source—a belief in reincarnation and souls. How does that contrast with your approach to veganism?

When I became vegetarian, my assumptions still reflected the body-soul dualism of my Roman Catholic upbringing. I was very much working though agnosticism and figuring out my values and beliefs; not eating animals was, at first, a provisional decision to err on the ethical safe side.

So I was muddling through. I’d read the autobiography of Mohandas K Gandhi, which was a frank exploration of his own spiritual muddling through, so the idea of ahimsa did inform my own muddling. And though I remain tentative and agnostic about the bigger questions, my evidence-based view of the world forced me to shed the self-serving superstitions of speciesism and see a world of minds, human and animal.

Although we think of the Śramaṇas - the Jains and Buddhists and others - as a “spiritual” movement now, I think we need to imagine the time. They lived in an inexplicable world, and they were trying to reject the ad hoc superstitions of Brahmin ceremonies in favour of something more logically consistent. In western terms had as much in common with Plato and Socrates as they did with the mysticism of - say - the Orphic mystery religions. (They’re in episode three.)

But despite that, amazingly, there was a fully atheist and materialist school of thought - the Lokayatas - at the same time as the best-known teachers of Jains, Buddhists, and Ājīvikas. The Buddhist scriptures quote the Lokayata teacher saying of humans “The four bearers take his dead body away; till they reach the burning ground, men utter forth eulogies, but there his bones are bleached, and his offerings end in ashes. … Fools and wise alike, on the dissolution of the body, are cut off, annihilated, and after death they are not.”

You start the first episode right at the beginning of human history. We hear from James Serpell who theorizes that some early human hunting rituals developed as a way to manage or dispel the guilt of killing an animal. Can you explain this idea and if you find it convincing?

He put out a convincing argument that it’s there in some surviving hunter gatherer cultures, at least. From my research there seem to be a wide range of beliefs that hunter gatherers have about their prey animals; in one case that if they’re not hunted, the spirits of the herd will feel ignored and the herd will go away. So it’s in their interests to be hunted!

But it seems perfectly logical to me for a hunter to worry about the feelings of the prey.

You’re in a hunter-gatherer band. You see personhood in the thunder and the wind as well as other animals, because you’re human, and humans tend to see everything as a social interaction. As well as being a predator, you also know what it’s like to be prey - both to tiny insects and apex predators like big cats. (Omnivores who boast about being top of the food chain, as if it were their personal achievement, forget this. Humans are not top of the food chain. Ecologically, we are a mid-rank predator who cheats.)

So you need to deal with the possibility of prey taking revenge. And if you believe in life after death, you’ve got to deal with the possibility of prey taking revenge afterwards.

It doesn’t require that much intelligence to consider that other animals don’t want to be eaten. But it does require a certain level of resource to be able to make a positive choice not to eat them.

Even if early humans were ambivalent about the act of killing animals, it wasn’t until around the 5th century BCE that vegetarianism arose. Do you have any insight as to why these ideas emerged when they did?

These are mysterious movements that appear already-vegetarian out of the mists of history. For example, we don’t know how exactly when the Jains became strictly vegetarian - whether that was centuries before the life of Mahavir, or even centuries afterwards. And the Orphics, being a mystery religion, make a point of leaving us clueless what was going on in the Thracian wildlands.

Some historians talk about an “axial age” in which urbanisation, writing, and a money-based economy came together to support an intelligentsia that could discuss questions of philosophy - not just in India and Greece, but also the hundred schools of China and the prophets of Israel.

Whatever ethics are put into expression and practice in the ancient world, they only become part of history when someone writes them down - and the writing survives. So the history of vegetarianism cannot begin until someone is passing their story down, either by recitation or (preferably) writing. And then it has to survive to the present - through the decay of palm-leaf manuscripts in the warmth of India, and the dark ages of Europe.

In the first episode you encounter a few contradictory perspectives on the history of Jainism. As a PhD with a background in science how did you deal with the somewhat messy and ‘open to interpretation’ nature of historical research?

Science can also be messy and open to interpretation! But covering the controversies of early Indian religion, I had to step back a bit more and let the experts speak for themselves, as long as I could explain them. “Due impartiality” meant reflecting a range of opinions but leaving the audience in no doubt where secular historians stood.

But with science, I am more able to “call a story”, and report a finding.

The early Greek proponents of vegetarianism, like Pythagoras, were also informed by a belief in reincarnation. How do their ideas differ from the early vegetarians in India?

I think, sadly, the absence of ahimsa doctrines. The Pythagoreans initially share many of the same concerns - such as not eating your relatives - but without the same obvious concern for other animals in earliest sources. But that does seem to change quickly.

Eventually your series must ‘come home’ to the UK and discuss the origins of the modern vegetarian and vegan movement. Do you see this phase of vegetarian history as an expression of enlightenment values and what if any values remain constant in the movement today?

The very early movement is quite the opposite - it’s very much an expression of reactionary Romantic values - they owe inspiration to Percy Bysshe Shelley and other Romantic poets, as well as mystical Christian figures like Boehme.

Politically, they’re also very much of the enlightenment - the Salford vegetarian Bible Christian Church was also involved in liberal causes like the abolition (of slavery) and civic works like libraries and graveyards. The chair of the meeting that set up the Vegetarian Society was also the first MP to speak in Parliament against the death penalty. And the café where a handful of activists met in 1944 to set up the breakaway Vegan Society was also the headquarters for the Women’s Freedom League, the main feminist organisation.

That kind of intersectionalism is definitely still happening today.

Your program is about the history of vegetarianism. What do you anticipate being the future of vegetarianism?

Well that is the spoiler, isn’t it? I’m not sure. Ask me again in a year!

Thanks to Ian for taking the time to talk to us about the project. If you’re interested in listening to Vegetarianism: The Story So Far you can find the first two episodes on the SoundCloud page, in your favourite podcast client via The Vegan Option’s feed, or on The Vegan Option website. Or, if you really can’t wait, the teaser and the first two episodes can be played directly below.

Teaser: A Vegetarian Animal Rights Protest in Iron Age India?

Episode One: Ahimsa

Episode Two: The Midde Path

Many pro-vegan websites and blogs attempt appeals to emotion to spread their message, sometimes presenting shocking videos of animal abuse. Appealing to emotion can facilitate empathy and understanding in some, but it’s not without its flaws. Like myself, many will avoid watching these videos altogether to spare themselves the distress. Others will claim that specific examples of abuse are the exception and not the rule, and in some cases, I will agree. Finally, some will respond with complete indifference because they do not consider non-human animals as members of the moral community. For these reasons I would rather appeal to your intelligence.

You probably consider yourself a reasonable person. I have no reason to doubt this assumption. Thanks to our disproportionately large frontal lobes, our ability to reason is one of the traits that sets us apart from other animals. To briefly clarify before I continue: to reason, in the context I am referring, is to think, understand, and form judgements logically. Logic can be described as valid reasoning. Simply put, to form a logically valid conclusion, one starts with one or more premises to reach a logical deduction. This process is called deductive reasoning. For example:

1. John is a pilot
2. All pilots are human
3. Therefore, John is human

Note that if the premise is false or any conclusion does not logically follow, then the argument is rendered invalid:

1. All pilots are human
2. John is human
3. Therefore, John is a pilot.

In the above example, the first and second statements are true, but the third does not logically follow because it makes the error of assuming that John is a pilot because all pilots are human. We, of course, know that there are many humans who are not pilots. Even if John were a pilot, the second premise does not justify the conclusion, rendering the logic of the argument unsound.

Premise One: Sentient animals matter morally

For a being to matter morally it must have interests and some awareness of those interests. For example, you probably have an interest in not suffering*. In other words, if I were to cause you needless suffering, my actions would be at odds with your interests. Since you’re reading this, I’m going to assume you also have an awareness of your interests, and therefore you matter morally.

Sentience is ubiquitous among most vertebrates and even some invertebrates*. Sentience is the capacity to feel, think or experience subjectively. Sentience is distinct from self-awareness, which is observed largely in humans, and is generally described as the ability for one to introspect and view oneself as an individual. In essence, sentience is the ability to experience subjective awareness, while self-awareness is the understanding of that awareness. In other words, the difference between thinking, and thinking about thinking.

There is significant variance in animal cognition. Some great apes, as well as dolphins, elephants* and magpies*, have, to varying degrees, demonstrated the capacity for self-awareness. It’s debatable whether many other animals share this experience. Intriguingly, one might posit that we see our pets as individuals more than they themselves do.

We consider animals like cats and dogs, who may not be self aware, to be individuals, and we recognise their interests and desires. This demonstrates that sentience, rather than self-awareness, forms the basis of an individual’s interests, and that beings with interests are those that we consider to matter morally. We understand dogs and cats have their own subjective awareness and likely experience a spectrum of emotion* from happiness to anxiety*. For this reason, we prefer not merely to spare them from suffering, but strive to promote their happiness. We intuitively understand that even without self-awareness, our pets are still sentient, and consequently, we include them in our moral community.

It is as palpable as it is inescapable: sentience demands moral consideration. It makes little sense to discriminate arbitrarily, which is precisely what we do when we shift some animals away from the moral realm in order to justify continued exploitation. Animals such as cows, pigs, chickens, horses and sheep, are sentient in the same way our dogs and cats are, and thus, must have some intrinsic moral value. They might not see themselves as individuals in the complex way that we do, but they are nevertheless capable of experiencing pain, harm and suffering, and, by virtue of this fact, they have an interest in avoiding these negative experiences.

Premise Two: It is wrong to cause unnecessary harm or suffering to sentient creatures, or to deprive them of happiness

Without delving into a lengthy discussion on necessity, we can instead agree on what is not necessary: doing things for reasons of taste, convenience or habit. It’s these three factors that largely drive the animal agriculture industry in developed countries. We have no inherent requirement for animal products and we are perfectly capable of thriving happily and healthily on a plant-based diet*. There’s a significant body of evidence for this, but the American Dietetic Association sums it up most succinctly:

It is the position of the American Dietetic Association that appropriately planned vegetarian diets, including total vegetarian or vegan diets, are healthful, nutritionally adequate, and may provide health benefits in the prevention and treatment of certain diseases. Well-planned vegetarian diets are appropriate for individuals during all stages of the life cycle, including pregnancy, lactation, infancy, childhood, and adolescence, and for athletes.*

Given the fact that the consumption of animals and their by-products is unnecessary for health, it follows then that the killing and consumption of animals is largely carried out to satisfy our trivial interests. Despite this, we continue to exploit animals by breeding and slaughtering them by the billions*.

(As an aside, according the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, livestock are responsible for at least 18 percent of greenhouse gas emissions. That’s more than all our transport combined. This figure includes 37% of anthropogenic methane release, which has at least 23 times the global warming potential as CO2. This damage is expected to double by the year 2050*. This environmental degradation affects not only humans, but all sentient life on the planet.)

Even if we consider morality to be entirely subjective, most of us will still agree on core principles. For example, we consider benign happiness a good thing, and gratuitous suffering a bad thing. At the very least, we can agree that the latter is much worse than the former, and in doing so we may declare that causing needless harm to sentient beings — including depriving them of happiness and liberty, while causing any degree of suffering — can only be a bad thing.

Premise Three: Killing an animal, with or without pain, always causes harm and always deprives them of happiness

Unless it is euthanasia, killing a sentient animal always robs them of the potential for experiencing future happiness. Moreover, the way we currently treat animals tends to deprive them of their present happiness as well. Furthermore, this involves physical harm and emotional distress to the victims. Depriving a being of happiness in the present as well as depriving them of any potential happiness for no good reason can never be reasonably justified — let alone humane.

If, as some believe, killing an animal without good reason does not qualify as harm, why is it considered harmful when inflicted upon a human animal? Suppose I take a gun to the street one day and shoot a pedestrian at random in the back of her head. Someone who, until this moment, lived a happy life with no knowledge of her impending doom. Suppose for concision that she has no family or loved ones to grieve for her. A happy person murdered, no fear, no pain, no grief. Every sane person will agree that this is still morally egregious. The heartless premeditation alone would warrant sufficient outrage. There is no morally significant difference between this fictitious human and any of the billions of sentient non-human animals slaughtered every year, who arguably suffer a fate far worse. Both have the mental capacity to experience states such as wellbeing and suffering, and both would choose to escape slaughter rather than succumb to it.

One could argue that in the above example it is more immoral to kill the human because her superior cognition gives her the ability to reflect on the past and ponder the future. Thus, it’s assumed, depriving her of her future experiences is worse than doing the same to an animal who may experience awareness solely in the present. You might assume that this eternal present means the animal has no interest in a continued existence, and therefore, killing the animal may be of no harm.

Consider cases of anterograde amnesia in humans, such as Henry Molaison, or H.M., as he was known to psychologists and neuroscientists. Molaison had part of his brain removed in an attempt to cure his epilepsy which resulted in him losing the ability to form new memories, as well as leaving him unable to retrieve some older memories. His sense of awareness was restricted to that of his working memory—about 30 seconds—and existed only insofar as he maintained his thoughts. Once his train of thought was derailed, his memories vanished from consciousness, never to be retrieved again*. Henry Molaison lived in a state that was decidedly more present than many animals. He was unable to use current information to form new memories and associations—such as a dog associating a new toy with excitement—however, as Suzanne Corkin has elucidated in her book, Permanent Present Tense*, Molaison’s life was still immensely valuable. She describes him as intelligent, quiet, remarkably good-humoured, and always happy to see her. Although he existed entirely in the present and was unable to contemplate his own future for more than a few seconds at a time, he still valued his own life and others considered him morally valuable.

Even if we give more consideration to humans and less consideration to animals, and thus conclude that it is more morally problematic to kill humans, it does not logically follow that the killing of animals is in any way justified by this inequality. Just because one thing may be deemed wrong, does not imply the other is good. In fact, when we consider the similarities we have with animals, such as sentience and the ability to experience suffering and pain, it should render the repercussions of their needless killing at least qualitatively similar.

Veganism is the logical conclusion

Veganism is defined by the Vegan Society as:

A philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude—as far as is possible and practicable—all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose*

If you accept my previous premises

1. Sentient animals matter morally
2. It is wrong to cause unnecessary harm or suffering
3. Killing a sentient animal (except in cases of euthanasia) always causes harm

Then adopting a way of living that seeks to avoid harming animals is a logical choice.

If we are able to prevent something bad from happening, without sacrificing anything significant, it seems wrong not to do so. If animals matter morally, as I hope we all agree by now they do, it’s vital that we consider their interests seriously. No being who is worth moral consideration should be needlessly harmed, killed or exploited. The idea that such treatment is justified runs contrary to both our reason and intuition. When we concede that a being matters morally, we should feel morally obliged to spare them needless harm.

I once believed that people were simply averse to the discussion of the unethical industries we support, but I feel now that this was a naive assumption. I suspect it is not so much the dose of reality that upsets others—people tend to welcome knowledge—but the tacit implication that we all have choices and thus may elect to withdraw our support from practices to which we’re morally opposed. But for various reasons, find ourselves reluctant to do so. Taste, habit and convenience largely influence our actions and many of us feel overwhelmed at making a change that feels so at odds with our current behaviours. Even when we know it is the right thing to do.

My arguments might not have stifled your ambivalence, but I hope I have convinced you that choosing to be vegan is the right thing to do. You have the power to make a choice that not only rejects violence, but aligns your actions with your beliefs; that recognises and protects the most fundamental interests of sentient animals. Perhaps the most compelling reason to be vegan is the fact that we have countless good reasons to make the change, and no good reason not to. Be reasonable, be vegan.

SOMETHING ABOUT EVOLUTION

Both chickens and humans are in the group of amniotes, which is defined by a membrane during the development of the embryo. But then we are separated into synapsida – containing mammals, and diapsida – containing lizards, snakes and birds. These groups are defined by a certain opening in the skull. The most recent common ancestor between the wild ancestral chicken and humans dates back approximately 320 million years ago*. In other words, we are quite different from birds.

LAYING EGGS

The ovary of the bird usually contains several egg cells that have started to mature. The maturation includes the formation of the yolk and growth of the follicle. When estrogen concentration goes up, proteins from the liver are deposited into the yolk to give it its yellow color. The egg will ovulate and fully mature which includes the formation of the egg white, and shell, but also potential fertilization. The eggs are typically laid until the clutch has been filled, but the interval and timing of egg laying varies between different bird species. A chicken will produce and lay an egg even if it is not fertilized*.

Birds do not have external reproductive organs, instead they have a cloaca from which they expel both eggs and excrement. Fertilization occurs when cloacas are joined and sperm is transferred into the female. However, birds are able to save sperm in an internal ‘pouch’, from which the female are able to fertilize eggs for a long period of time after the mating.

MENSTRUATION

In the human ovary, an egg cell is released every ovulation. The ovulation occurs when luteinizing hormone and follicle-stimulating hormone peaks. When the egg cell starts to travel through the fallopian tube, the egg has a potential to be fertilized. During this time, the lining of the uterus starts to thicken to form an endometrium. The fertilized egg will eventually be completely embedded in the endometrium once it has reach the uterus. The endometrium supplies the embryo with oxygen and nutrients, and will later be the place where the placenta is developed*. If the egg is not fertilized, humans and a few other animals release the endometrium with the unfertilized egg through the vagina – this is called menstruation or ‘a period’. Many other mammals do not release the endometrium as humans do, it’s reabsorbed into the body. The latter is typically not referred to as menstruation, but if so, it’s called covert menstruation.

CONCLUSION

As people seem to be inadequately educated I guess it might sometimes come a legitimate opportunity to inform people what they are eating. But then it’s important to be correct. We all know for example that meat is muscle tissue of animals – that is correct. But, referring to eggs as menstruation is not. Birds have a different reproduction cycle than animals that have menstruation. The similarity is that both the laying of eggs and menstruation is a way of the body to get rid of an unfertilized egg, but in birds the egg is laid regardless if it is fertilised or not, and humans do not lay eggs at all. Additionally, menstruation is specifically defined by the discharge of the endometrium, something that just doesn’t happen in birds.

Apart from being factually wrong, speaking about menstruation with the intent of provoking disgust is problematic. In many parts of human society and history menstruation has been subject to taboo in various ways. Using arguments that rely on evoking disgust about female bodily functions might contribute to misconceptions and unreasonable antipathy. Menstruation is a completely normal function of the human body and shouldn’t be taboo in any way.

Many vegans are aware of the inefficiency of donations towards pet-focused charities. Vegans are also aware of the hypocrisy when “animal charities” have a BBQ that features the bodies of other non-pet, yet still sentient and loving beings.

Because of this inefficiency* and hypocrisy, vegans are hesitant to support pet charities or organizations, instead preferring charities that do veg outreach, farmed animal advocacy work, or, lastly: local animal sanctuaries.

It is this last charitable sector that I wanted to question, and I hope to do it in a delicate way, knowing that many people have personal investments or ties to such groups and organizations (myself included).

I’ve been to my local animal sanctuary. I helped paint fences, I interacted with the chickens, a pig who loved playing in their mud bath, the cows who stood contentedly on the field, blinking flies away from their eyes. Because of this pleasant and emotional experience, I did feel some sense of obligation to financially support the sanctuary and help the animals. But I knew I had to question this intuitive feeling if I wanted to do the most good I could do.

The first fact to acknowledge is that the “animal sanctuaries” sector is incredibly diverse, with hundreds of operations (in the US and Canada at least) of varying size, missions, and activities.

Because of this diversity it’s very difficult to generalize about sanctuaries. Some definitely do better than others, but figuring out which ones are better and which ones are worse will require some leg-work.

However, if we want a point of reference, one of the United States’ more well-known animal sanctuaries spends, on average, $3,000 annually to take care of each animal*.

How does your local animal sanctuary compare? Unfortunately, even if they were somehow five times as efficient at doing good, they would still be spending hundreds of dollars for each animal who they help. For example, a local sanctuary near me says that it costs ~$250 to feed one goat for one year. Add in veterinary care, facilities and maintenance costs, then we are probably looking at a few hundred dollars each year for one farmed animal*.

But where are the hidden costs? Well, the fact is that every financial decision has costs/benefits, and charitable donations are no different. The benefit of donating $100 to a local animal sanctuary might be to help care for an animal for a month or two, but when we compare that benefit to what the $100 could achieve by being donated to an effective farmed animal charity*, then we see the true hidden costs of favoring the local over the effective.

Other Considerations

Using the financial numbers of how much it costs to care for an animal in an animal sanctuary is a good reference point when examining efficacy, but there are some other factors to keep in mind.

Impact on diet: In a small online survey I conducted in a local vegan group, there was some evidence that visiting an animal sanctuary had positive impacts on adopting a vegetarian, vegan diet, or at the least, cutting down on animal product consumption. The survey was not representative, though, so more research is needed to examine animal sanctuary visitor numbers and the impact of a visit on someone’s diet.

Social media: Animal sanctuaries often have social media pages where they will post pictures, videos, and stories of their animals. This can have a positive impact on breaking the human/non-human divide, and could possibly help people change their diets in favor of more compassionate food choices. However, this effect is difficult to quantify.

Recidivism: Many people who adopt a vegetarian or vegan diet often go back to eating more animal products. A visit to an animal sanctuary might help reduce recidivism by allowing someone to form a more personal relationship to farmed animals. However, I don’t think this impact would be that great considering that those who go to animal sanctuaries tend to be fairly committed in their veg*nism and, conversely, those who are not that committed might not have the effort, desire, or capacity to visit a sanctuary.

Prompt for activism: Finally, and one of the most important effects of animal sanctuaries, is that they seem to have positive impacts on activism. In my survey, people mentioned that learning a farmed animal’s story gave them a useful narrative to use when doing activism or having discussions with people. Another person mentioned that having a personal connection with the animals at a sanctuary inspired them to do more activism for nonhuman animals.

However, even with these positive considerations acknowledged, I personally will not be donating to any animal sanctuaries in 2016 as I believe that other organizations such as Mercy for Animals and The Humane League are more effective at helping farmed animals.

But where does that leave our favorite local animal sanctuary?

The fact is that, fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you received the arguments in this blog post), people will continue to give to their local sanctuaries, while a minority of people will consider the alternative path of more effective giving.

If veganism is about opting out of violence to the best of our ability, and a donation is about reducing suffering, then why not maximize our donations like we attempt to maximize our vegan-ness?

Michael Slusher’s soon to be released book, They All Had Eyes: Confessions of a Vivisectionist, aims to expose the biomedical research industry. In Michael’s words, his book ‘shed[s] light on some of the horrific and yet accepted animal torture practices with the intention to shut down animal research labs and laboratory animal breeders’.

The idea that scientists are nothing but blood-thirsty monsters… Are they apathetic? Yes. Purposefully cruel because they enjoy it? Not in my experience.

I wasn’t interested in talking to Michael about the brutal details of animal experimentation. I’m too squeamish to subject myself to those, and I’ve already arrived at an ethical position on the issue. What I was keen to discuss with him is the mindset of the people who conduct the experiments. If we, as animal advocates, don’t want to be dismissed as sappy idealists, then I think it behooves us to try and understand the motivations of animal researchers. To make our moral case as powerful as possible we need to understand the people arguing against us. I also wanted to talk to Michael the guilt which motivated him to write the book.

Micheal funded the production of They All Had Eyes through Indiegogo, a crowdfunding website. Here’s a short video of him introducing his book and requesting support (the campaign has ended, but the video is still worth watching). Now Micheal’s book is about to be released. The best way to support his work is by pre-ordering a copy through Amazon.

Hi Michael, Thanks so much for taking the time to speak to me. Firstly, what motivated you to pursue a career that involved animal testing?

I didn’t actually pursue that career, I just sort of fell into it. Ever since I was a child, I loved anything to do with animals and my father was very involved in all aspects of the sciences. His interest in the sciences rubbed off on me quite a bit, so while I was floundering in my early 20s and found a job at a lab weighing rats, it was an exciting prospect – animals AND science!

The subtitle of your book is ‘Confessions of a Vivisectionist’. Just to clear up our terminology, what is the difference between ‘vivisection’ and ‘animal testing’ or experimentation?

‘Vivisection’ is an old word used mostly by the animal rights community as a catch-all phrase for all forms of animal testing and experimentation, regardless of whether it’s biomedical research, medical or military training, product testing, or classroom dissection. It is never used by the scientific community – probably because its literal meaning, “to cut apart while still alive” is considered too gruesome, however true it may be. They prefer more cold and clinical terminology, such as “using an animal model for research or testing”.

I used ‘vivisectionist’ in my title because there is no other equivalent single term that describes my former occupation. It also reveals to which camp I now belong.

Within animal research there are guidelines in place which are intended to protect the welfare of animal subjects which stem from the three principles*:

Replace the use of animals with alternative techniques, or avoid the use of animals altogether.

Reduce the number of animals used to a minimum, to obtain information from fewer animals or more information from the same number of animals.

Refine the way experiments are carried out, to make sure animals suffer as little as possible. This includes better housing and improvements to procedures which minimise pain and suffering and/or improve animal welfare.

In your experience how effective are these guidelines and how do researchers conceptualise the ‘welfare’ of the animals?

At the time that I worked in the two different lab settings (both industry and academic) I never saw or read those guidelines. The spirit of the second guideline (Reduce) was followed to a certain extent, simply to keep costs down. It would have had nothing to do with protecting animal lives, however. Rats and mice are cheap and disposable. Monkeys are very expensive, while dogs fall in between. We didn’t worry at all about the numbers of mice and rats and only worried about the numbers of monkeys and dogs because of cost.

Concern for the suffering of animals was a factor, meaning that it was always a goal of all researchers that I met to keep suffering to a minimum, but the research always came first and as long as we didn’t violate organizational policies or government laws (what few there are), our top priority was to obtain usable data. For the most part, industry-standard procedures were used, and in the mindset of those involved, they were adequate. I witness very little purposeful malevolence, but pure apathy was always present in many people.

In personal accounts I’ve heard scientists referring to the animals they use by name, but when reading journal articles the animal subjects of any experiment seem to be always referred to by a code letter or number, and with the pronoun it. To me this seems like an odd contradiction. Do you think scientists experience ambivalence towards the recognition of animals as individuals?

I was always cautioned by my supervisors against becoming attached to any of the animals, because with few exceptions, I was going to eventually kill them. In all fields, scientists are always discouraged from allowing emotion to cloud their work. Keeping an emotional distance from animals in research is really the only way normal people can conduct these types of studies. I never worked with any animals (such as chimps) where the human/subject bonding would be very long-term or tight. I did work with some monkeys who were not likely to be killed and were effectively lifelong residents of the lab, but again, it was frowned upon to name them or become attached.

When you first started your career, how did you relate to the animals you were working with?

Well, since I had always had rats and mice as pets, I knew a lot about how to handle them and knew their behavior. Unfortunately, because I also had used them since childhood to feed pet snakes I and my dad used to keep, they were also easy for me to see as utilitarian commodities – a tool to be used to achieve a larger goal.

I didn’t like working with dogs because I could relate to them so much as pets. Again, maintaining emotional distance and a cold, clinical approach was how I related to them. Likewise for the monkeys, although because they were nearly always aggressive, it was easy to not grow attached and relate to them indifferently. They were somewhat frightening, I must admit.

During your career were you exposed to any arguments from animal advocates and if so, how did you respond to them?

Sadly, I was not exposed to, nor confronted by animal advocates. I’m not sure that at the time I would have been sympathetic, since I was convinced that the work I did was helping find treatments or cures to human ailments. I probably would have accused them of being ignorant about how science works (something that would have been quite ironic, knowing what I know now about how animal models are nearly worthless in pharmaceutical research).

Are there any common arguments made by animal advocates that the scientific community dismiss or ridicule because of inaccuracies or faulty reasoning?

The idea that scientists are nothing but blood-thirsty monsters, for one. Are they apathetic? Yes. Purposefully cruel because they enjoy it? Not in my experience.

Also, the idea that there was NEVER any benefit to using animals in research is also wrong. Medicine (and certainly anatomy and physiology) did benefit from some animal experiments in the past. However, the many other wrong paths and detrimental assumptions made by using animals certainly diminish the overall value any of these claims may have had. Also, in a modern context, there is absolutely no justification, despite what we may have learned from it 100 years ago.

The use of religion to support animal rights is also (quite rightly) ridiculed, as it has no basis in scientific reality.

Most people outside of the vegan community (not just scientists) also dismiss the concept of animals being equal to humans. When that is given as the rationale for not using animals in research, scientists only need to point to meat consumption to claim hypocrisy amongst animal rights supporters. This has obviously become less valid now that veganism is being recognized as the true moral baseline among AR activists.

What lead you to begin questioning the morality of animal testing, and what challenges did you face leaving your field?

Sadly, I didn’t question the morality until long after I left the field. I left the field due to poor employment opportunities in my life at that time/place. I wish it had been because of a moral awakening.

How do you approach conversations with your ex-colleagues or other scientists who still engage in animal testing?

So far, I have not had any contact with them since becoming vegan. If I were to engage them, I would certainly use the current data that reveals mostly poor results from the use of animal models. I feel that an appeal to logic is the only tactic that would be effective against arguments made by researchers. While that may not work when trying to convince the general public, where an appeal to emotion is preferable, presenting logic and facts is certainly the only method that scientists will give any credence to.

The title of your book, They all Had Eyes is chilling — at first I read it as a recognition of the selfhood of every animal you worked on, but on reflection I realized that you were also acknowledging the fact that you had been ‘seen’ by them as a victimizer. How do you deal with the psychological scars left from your participation in what you now recognize as ‘gruesome atrocities’?

I’m very glad you recognized the more subtle point the title makes. You are the first person to mention that they saw it both ways.

A big part of how I dealt with it before was to avoid it altogether. It just seemed like a different lifetime to me. I suspect there have been some symptoms of delayed onset PTSD, especially as I pondered the idea of writing of this book. I am aware that I strongly avoid all gory imagery of animals now, especially when in a lab setting. I cannot look at the rodents in pet stores at all. One of the reasons I wrote the book was so that I could confront my demons and hopefully slay them. I had been having nightmares (and still do) and knew I needed to deal with the subject, in the open for all to see, if I was going to move on. It’s a process – the guilt doesn’t subside easily.

It still depresses me greatly that I didn’t see what I was doing at the time. I can’t change the past and that makes me very sad. All those little lives are gone and there is nobody but myself to blame. It has been pointed out that like the slaughterhouse worker, I am also a victim of a horrible industry that puts money ahead of lives, but that really doesn’t take the blame off my shoulders. I chose that line of work and even though at the time I thought I was advancing the well-being of humanity, knowing now that it was a delusion doesn’t make me feel any better about it.

When I announced my book, I was highly afraid of how the AR community would accept me, but so far I haven’t been hated (too much) for my past sins. I certainly hope this book not only helps me heal myself, but also makes something of a difference in the lives of millions of animals currently facing torture and death.

Thanks Michael for your thoughtful and candid answers.

Michael’s descriptions of the scientists who conduct animal testing as apathetic and detached is sad but encouraging. It seems as though these are people who have been trained not to care rather than people who are incapable of caring. In fact the reason many biomedical researchers pursue a career that involves animal testing is because they care about the suffering of human beings. Animal models are used in this research because we know how similar animals bodies and brains are to humans. If biomedical researchers care about suffering and recognise the similarities between human and non-humans it seems to me that we have an excellent base of concord on which to build our argument. It also clarifies the point of disagreement which is how should we weigh animal suffering? How much is an animal’s life worth?

As Michael points out a non-vegan arguing against animal testing is unconvincing because by their actions they assert that an animal’s life is worth less than their enjoyment of a meal.

As a vegan I empathise with Michael’s guilt and I think that most vegans should. Although the majority of us did not engage in direct harm to animals the average person commissions the suffering and death of many more animals than those Michael experimented upon in his time as a biomedical researcher. I am glad to hear that Michael has not been ‘hated (too much) for his past sins’ by the Animal Rights community. When we villainize someone we do not seek to understand them and if we villainize Michael and excuse ourselves we avoid vital self-examination.

They All Had Eyes will be the first book that exposes the animal research industry from an insider perspective. I think it has the potential to change the public’s minds about animal testing by revealing what usually happens behind closed doors and hopefully improving the way we conduct our advocacy by revealing the thoughts and feelings of the people involved.

I am far from alone in citing empathy as a motivation to commit to vegetarianism, but empathy primarily fosters concern for other humans. Empathy is the ability to experience another’s feelings, not just to see things from their perspective but to feel things from their perspective*. Our modern concept of empathy is very similar to David Hume’s conception of ‘sympathy’ — a ‘feeling into’ that is essential for humanity to flourish. Empathy is often credited with inspiring everyday helping behaviours and inspiring acts of grand altruism*. It’s easy to see how an ability to feel other people’s emotions would be selected for by evolution in individuals; those who engage in reciprocal altruism* are more likely to conceive and raise healthy offspring.

The experience of feeling empathetic seems to be a result of the activation of ‘mirror neurons’ in the brain. Dr Christian Keysers has studied people who score high on ‘empathy quotient tests’* and found their brains have ‘especially busy mirror neuron systems’*. In a review in Nature Neuroscience researchers lead by Jamil Zaki and Kevin Ochoner broke empathy down into three stages:

The first stage is ‘experience sharing’ or feeling someone else’s emotions as if they were your own- scared when they are scared. Happy when they are happy…

… The second stage is ‘mentalizing’, or consciously considering those states and their sources and trying to work through understanding them…

… The final stage is prosocial concern, or being motivated to act- wanting, for example, to reach out to someone in pain.*

This is a straightforward and intuitively appealing definition*. It explains the bridge from knowing others suffer to taking action to alleviate their suffering. We know they suffer and we know their suffering ‘matters’ because we feel it too — or at least get a glimpse of that feeling temporarily. No one could convince the ten year old me that that fluffy baby chick was not confused, frightened and grieving for her mother. I felt those feelings when I watched the ad and that experiential evidence was so convincing that it made me change my life. Many vegans and vegetarians have stories like this*. When I read people describing their growing awareness of animal issues they frequently cite empathy as a prime motivation, and I’ve noticed that often people confuse or compound the terms ‘ethics’, ‘emotions’, ‘empathy’ and ‘morality’ as if they were interchangeable or reliant on each other.

Provoking and Revealing Empathy

It’s no wonder that animal advocates have relied so heavily on two empathetic strategies to try and raise awareness of animal suffering. We try to inspire empathy by showing pictures or telling the stories of non-human animals. We focus on their faces; so expressive, so much like ours. We highlight their experiences; they have families, preferences for good food and comfort*. We show people pictures of the animals, or tell stories about them, so that they can truly feel the horror when they see images of slaughterhouses and other animal exploitation*. The advocacy material is intended to provoke empathy (and perhaps outrage or guilt) and that empathy is intended to provoke change. Advocates employing this strategy see a small flicker of empathy in their audience, and hope to nurture it into a force so strong that it can’t be ignored.

The other empathy-related strategy is what I call the ‘empathy reveal’. This approach doesn’t assume the audience has low reserves of empathy that need to be nurtured so much as as having plenty that is sadly ‘blocked’*. Instead of trying to provoke empathy, we hope to reveal to our audience that they already possess a wealth of it which is ignored or misdirected by cultural biases*. This strategy often starts by finding ‘common ground’ over our love of our companion animals, or our shared horror at events such as the death of Cecil the lion*. I have a huge library of photos of my cats that I am happy to produce for such an occasion. Once we have agreed on exactly how adorable my cats are and how slightly less adorable (but still very nice) their respective companion animals are I attempt my final trick: by pointing out how similar our beloved animals are to the ones that we eat and exploit I hope to provoke an epiphany. TA DA! You do care about all animals… can I buy you a soy latte?

A lot of us began our journey to veganism because of empathy. It makes sense that we try and use the same tool that worked on us to convince non-vegans to start down the path* and there is no denying that it works on a lot of people. But reading some of the op-eds social psychologist Paul Bloom has been writing* (as part of the research for his new book on the subject of empathy’s limits and pitfalls) has prompted me to re-examine how useful empathy is as a motivation for moral behaviour and therefore as a vegan advocacy tool.

Vegetarian because of empathy, vegan because of reason

Though I credit empathy with turning my ten year old self vegetarian it was not empathy that made me vegan in my mid twenties. Animal products like milk and eggs, cosmetics and household goods and even leather (yes I was one of ‘those sort’ of ‘vegetarians’) didn’t have enough of a direct connection with animals to provoke my empathy. It seemed too abstract, too distant, too theoretical. I could imagine happy hens and cows gladly giving eggs and milk in exchange for comfortable barns and lush pastures. Because I could imagine ‘humane’ farming, that’s what I did. I had a vague sense that consuming these products might cause harm, but I didn’t look into it any further because I didn’t want to know. I was afraid of what that knowledge might make me do: give up my favourite foods.

At that age I was moving towards skepticism and atheism. The cognitive dissonance I felt about consuming animal products was heightened by my increasing awareness of cognitive biases and my burgeoning commitment to rational enquiry. When my skeptical inquiry turned to my excuses for eating animal products I was appalled to see my own hypocrisy… and once I’d seen it, I couldn’t go back. To be the reasonable consistent person I wanted to be I had to change my behaviour.

My veganism resulted from a commitment to reason combined with a concern for the suffering of others. I didn’t have to ‘feel’ the horror of animals exploited for milk or eggs (I still haven’t watched Earthlings* — thank goodness). I just synthesized my new knowledge with my abhorrence of causing unnecessary suffering. Animals were suffering to produce items I consumed and I couldn’t stand the mental discomfort of knowing hypocrisy. If I wanted to maintain a respect for evidence and a moral concern for the suffering of animals I had to go vegan. It is like I skipped the first stage of empathy described by Zaki and Oscher and went straight on to the ‘mentalizing’ and ‘acting’ stages.

What I just characterised as ‘concern for the suffering of others’ is what Paul Bloom terms ‘compassion’* and what other researchers have called ‘cognitive empathy’. Unlike affective or emotional empathy, cognitive empathy is more akin to Theory of Mind* — the capacity to understand someone else’s perspective without having to experience their feelings. Cognitive empathy is the basis of much ethical theory. Although some philosophers such as Iain King* propose empathy as the ‘essence’ of morality most ethical philosophers argue for a moral framework based on liberty, equality and what Bloom and many Buddhists call ‘compassion’. In The Thinker’s Guide to Understanding the Foundations of Ethical Reasoning Richard Paul defines ethics as “a set of concepts and principles that guide us in determining what behavior helps or harms sentient creatures”*. The reason we care about sentient creatures is not because we experience their emotions but because we acknowledge their feelings matter — to them.

Empathic Mistakes

Philosophers may find this logical base for their moral framework more robust than an emotional impulse, and when debating academics or writing papers as a vegan advocate we may find this angle more appropriate. But surely in our everyday life, for those of us living the unexamined - or at best partially examined - life, empathy serves as a useful heuristic for getting along with each other and for informing our actions. Doesn’t it?

Not so, says Bloom. Empathy is, like many instinctive adaptations, a clumsy ‘patch’ in our brains to ensure we survive to pass on our genes. It makes mistakes, and basing our moral code or everyday behaviour on something so haphazard and unreliable is bound to cause trouble.

For years I nurtured more empathy towards a plush toy duck that had been with me since birth than I did the real-life birds that were exploited in the provision of eggs that I ate without a second thought. When, as a teenager, I lost a rucksack with the toy inside I imagined the experience of my toy so vividly that it gave me nightmares. I imagined him being taken out of the bag and thrown in the gutter, perhaps trodden on by pedestrians or spending an eternity of loneliness locked in a lost and found office somewhere, never to be retrieved. My despair at losing him was only in part mourning my loss, it was largely a concern for the feelings I imagined my toy experiencing. Even recounting this story now as an adult I can feel that childish anxiety over what happened to my faithful cloth companion. This is an example of how biased and irrational empathy can be. I wouldn’t tell my teenaged self that she was wrong to feel empathy for an inanimate toy - I’m not sure feelings can be ‘wrong’ - but if I had acted upon that empathy to inform a moral decision or used it to build an ethical framework that privileged cuddly toys over actual animals… well, I would be comfortable calling that wrong.

This example may seem ridiculous, but we make similarly irrational individual and societal ethical choices based on empathetic reactions. Though luckily no one is consulting my teenaged self about her empathetic reaction to the presumed suffering of plush toys to inform policy decisions, we do make important decisions on the empathetic whims of adults. One example of this is the influence of victim statements in jury trials*. A victim with whom we empathise can encourage the court to administer more punitive sentences than a victim with whom we feel no empathetic connection. It seems somehow ‘just’ to let the victim ‘have a say’ at the trial of their victimizers, but do we really believe that a rapist should be granted leniency if the person they rape is less emotionally compelling?

Empathy was evolutionarily selected for partly because it fosters in-group loyalty. It still performs that function. Humans reliably empathise with people (or plush toys) they know or who are similar to them. This shows up in a marked empathetic preference for our own race*, other cognitive biases compel us to empathise more with people who are youthful, attractive and charming*. These often unexamined biases lead to the development of a discriminatory society and legal system.

People also make empathetic mistakes in their charitable donations. If we assume that the purpose of giving to charity is to help alleviate the suffering of others, then we would expect people to donate to the charities that offer the most alleviation for their donations. And yet people do not donate to the most effective charities; they donate to the ones that appeal to their empathy most effectively*. A whole movement ‘Effective Altruism’* has sprung up to address this problem and attempts to encourage altruistic donors to ‘do the most good they can’ by donating to the most effective charities. Peter Singer describes effective altruists who are undoubtedly inspired by his own field of utilitarian ethics:

Effective altruists will feel the pull of helping an identifiable child from their own nation, region, or ethnic group but will then ask themselves if that is the best thing to do… they don’t give to whatever cause tugs strongest at their heartstrings. They give to the cause that will do the most good, given the abilities, time, and money they have.*

For those of us who are concerned about animal suffering and able to make monetary donations Animal Charity Evaluators rates animal charities on their effectiveness and encourages people to donate to those that do the most good. Effective altruists often find themselves making counterintuitive decisions. Perhaps you will too, when you consider that your time volunteering at a local animal sanctuary - and helping several animals - could be better spent earning money that donated to the right charity could save thousands.

As vegans, we don’t need to examine the social psychology literature, contemplate our legal system or analyse the charity sector to see how damaging relying on empathy can be. Empathy leads us to to favour animals who we consider to be part of our ‘ingroup’ — common species of companion animals and those who express the cuddly, cute and affectionate traits we value. When we talk to non-vegans about cows, chickens or octopi we are dragging them further and further away from the animals they naturally empathise with. It seems absurd to them when we ask them to ‘care’ about these animals because we understand ‘care’ as a product of empathy and if our empathy-provoking or revealing tactics fail, we often find ourselves exasperated and despairing.

My friend the sociopath

Exasperation and despair often turn to judgement. People who, after seeing the footage of animals frolicking and being slaughtered, after being reminded of the similarities between the animals they love and those they eat still just ‘don’t care’, or don’t care enough to change their habits, seem monstrous to us. Callous, cruel… unsympathetic. Although ‘lack of empathy’ is only one of several (and apparently not the most indicative*) item on the dubiously diagnostic psychopathy checklist* it is tempting to see people who exhibit low empathy as psychopaths.

Psychologists measure empathy using a series of sixty questions to arrive at an Empathy Quotient, or EQ. EQ serves as our current best-guess approximation of a subject’s level of empathy. People with autism generally score lower than average on EQ tests*. If we succumb to the cultural narrative that low-empathy people are monstrous then we are forced to consider people on the autistic spectrum to be inherently more prone to evil — a judgement which I am not willing to make. Men also test lower on EQ than women, and again I think it would be offensive and inaccurate to conclude that men are naturally more monstrous than women. But if we reinforce the erroneous idea that you can only care about someone if you empathise with them, I can see how monstrous behaviour could be encouraged in those with low EQs.

Due to my experience turning vegetarian at a young age, my exaggerated empathetic response to losing my plush toy as a teen and an over-inflated valuation of empathy as a character trait, I always assumed that I was a ‘high empathy’ person. I took the EQ test*. I scored 40 on one try and 42 on another. That’s average. I was eager to find out the scores of my close friends, and I was unsurprised by their results. My partner measured markedly above average (which his emotional responses to cinema prepared me for) while another very close friend scored dramatically below average and texted me to say ‘yeah well, I guess I’m a sociopath’.

My friend the sociopath is in fact one of the best people I know, and like many of the best people I know he is now vegan. I had been vegan for a few years before I started talking to him about veganism and at first I tried the usual empathy provoking or revealing strategies. He listened to my descriptions and agreed that animal agriculture was a horrible industry but he didn’t care enough to change his behaviour. It was only when I approached our conversations from a more rational perspective that he began examining the issue himself and eventually decided to go vegan. Now when he talks about his veganism he will often say that he does not ‘love’ animals (perhaps as a way to ward off invitations to farm sanctuaries or requests to dog-sit) but he recognises that they are capable of suffering. He accepts that suffering is universally bad and he wants to cause as little of it as possible. He is much like a contemporary Jeremy Bentham who authored the often repeated quote:

The question is not, Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?

My friend the sociopath might adapt the above:

The question is not, do I find them relatable? nor, do I empathise with them? but can they suffer?

Maybe the response to people who say they don’t care about animal suffering is to parse out what they mean by ‘care’. If they mean they can’t empathise with animals then perhaps there’s something we can do instead of trying to force them to manifest feelings they don’t have, or prove them wrong about their own feelings, or giving up on them and labelling them negatively. We can redefine ‘caring’ as something that does not require an emotional motivation. As Dave D of Pythagorean Crank says:

When it comes to nonhumans, we don’t need to make loving them a qualification for their consideration. It doesn’t matter how valuable they are to humans. They don’t need our patronizing crumbs of compassion based upon a misinterpreted action, picture or physical cuteness. It’s enough that we all find ourselves stranded upon this watery rock in space and we should learn to just get along. *

Dave is referring to the use of cute animal photos meant to elicit empathy and thus inspire us to treat animals better. The ‘misinterpreted action’ is that of an animal that looks to us like it’s dancing or smiling or experiencing a particular emotion — when in fact its experiences are impossible to decipher from a snapshot or a YouTube clip. This is not only a problem for non-human animals but for other humans too. Telepathy is not possible. We can’t actually read other people’s minds. Our empathy is a subconscious guess at their internal experience. We can’t even do it with the people we are most likely to empathise with: attractive, charming people of our race and culture who are known to us. We think we are feeling their emotions, but we aren’t; we are feeling our own. Atheist comedian Emery Emery is fond of dismissing the ‘golden rule’ often attributed to Christianity*:

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

he suggests this maxim should be replaced by his ‘platinum rule’:

Do unto others as they would have you do unto them.

It may seem like a subtle distinction but it is an important one. If we can put aside our instinctive emotional sense of how someone is feeling, and instead actually ask them, we are better placed to help them. As author Kevin D. Williamson points out in an article entitled ‘Against Empathy’ for The National Review:

The main problems of the poor and unemployed do not include a shortage of people able to commiserate with them — their problems are a shortage of money, a shortage of jobs, a shortage of marketable skills, a shortage of economic growth, etc.*

The main problem of non-human animals is not a shortage of people who commiserate with them. It’s the fact that the vast majority of people are happy to commission their exploitation.

Empathy Alternatives

Despite being somewhat convinced by Bloom and other enemies of empathy, I don’t think it should be wished away*. It’s a useful common sense reaction to guide interpersonal relationships. It’s a source of joy and connection, as well as perhaps being instrumental in how we enjoy art*. But since it is a biased, fictive emotional response I think it’s inappropriate to allow it to dictate morality.

Without empathy to guide our moral choices what would we employ? Bloom cites Steven Pinker* who has a few suggestions:

The decline of violence may owe something to an expansion of empathy… but it also owes much to harder-boiled faculties like prudence, reason, fairness, self-control, norms and taboos, and conceptions of human rights.

Pinker is referring to violence against human beings. The motivation for exercising the faculties he lists is our recognition of other people’s fellow humanity. Our culture occludes the recognition of our fellow animals’ sentience, which in turn facilitates and justifies our treatment of non-human animals. When people accept that animals are conscious* and capable of suffering perhaps we will be motivated to employ ‘prudence, reason, fairness and self control’ when considering their interests. Many people who ‘just don’t care’ about animal suffering may be lacking empirical knowledge rather than empathy.

Bloom uses the term ‘compassion’ to describe cognitive empathy; a term perhaps inspired by his experience with Buddhism. In a podcast talking with Sam Harris* they discuss the ‘metta bhavana’* a Buddhist practice I am familiar with. ‘Metta bhavana’ means ‘loving-kindness meditation’. The Metta bhavana is a meditation in five stages during which you focus on first yourself, then a friend, then an acquaintance, then a person you find unlikeable, then the whole world and all living beings. At each stage you acknowledge that they, just like you, want to be happy and free from suffering and you hope they achieve these goals. You do not (I made this mistake early in my practice) attempt to inhabit their experience - in other words, to empathise - you simply acknowledge and extend compassion. In the vernacular: you care. Practice is an appropriate word for this sort of meditation because it is a skill to be learned. Eventually it becomes a habit and, the Buddhists hope, will inform your actions, permeate into everyday life and eventually change the world for the better. There is some preliminary evidence* that compassion can be fostered by practices such as the Metta bhavana, and perhaps there are other strategies for increasing compassion or cognitive empathy that have not yet been explored.

Empathising for those with low EQ

It may seem hard to imagine what it’s like to have no empathy for a certain animal, but I think we all have empathetic blind spots that we should bear in mind. Consider the example of a child abuser convicted of horrible crimes. I find it hard (and I’m sure I’m in the majority) to feel empathy for such an individual. The only thing stopping me from shouting ‘lock them up forever’ is my compassion. I don’t need to have an empathetic sense of this person’s terror, guilt, self loathing or traumatised childhood. I can be emotionally repulsed by them and yet still believe they should be treated with compassion. I feel the same sort of abstract concern for people and animals that are yet to be born, which is why I care about the environment. I don’t have enough empathy to extend it to people who will live in the future. It is this abstract,unemotional caring that helps me make vegan choices even when the victim seems far removed from the product, or is some kind of frightening or disgusting creature that I would never find myself cooing lovingly at.

Convincing people who don’t or can’t empathise with animals to start ‘caring’ about them is a hard problem. The old strategies of provoking or revealing empathy work on some, but not all, of them. It’s important that we try to understand and respect these people. Calling them monsters is unlikely to convince them to reconsider their attitude towards animals.

If our advocacy is based on encouraging people to act on their empathy, then when faced with someone who lacks empathy we are forced to give up… I don’t want to give up. I think for the sake of formulating robust philosophical arguments, and for effective advocacy, we need to focus on encouraging people to develop or adopt ethical codes that are consistent and rational. We can base them on our knowledge of animals’ undeniable capacity for suffering. And we can encourage the practice of caring about animals without ‘feeling into’ them.

@TheVeganRD Animal rights made me vegan. Evidence-based RDs help me be a healthy, happy one. Thanks!

Many vegans could say the same. Ginny adopts a rigorous, evidence-based approach and delivers nutritional advice in a straightforward accessible manner. Her book Vegan for Life (co-authored by vegan registered dietitian Jack Norris*) is an indispensable guide for maintaining a healthy vegan diet. It also, along with her other titles*, serves as a useful reference when faced with tricky nutritional questions from concerned non-vegans!

Her blog The Vegan RD focuses on specific nutritional issues of interest to vegans. It dispenses reliable advice and often debunks the hyperbolic claims about vegan diets made by non-vegans — and vegans themselves.

As well as making us ‘healthy and happy’, Ginny has doubtlessly raised the awareness of many people who have adopted a plant based diet for health reasons. Though her blog is focused on nutrition, the driving force of her work is an ethical commitment to reducing animal suffering. This motivation is apparent in the way she always returns to the message animals matter.

We are very grateful to Ginny for answering a few questions for RVGN.

What came first, your veganism or your interest in nutrition science?

Definitely my interest in nutrition science. My interest was in public health nutrition and in improving access to food and nutrition education for low-income families. My interest in animal rights came very early in my career, though, and I became a vegetarian right after I became a dietitian. It was another 5 years or so before I began exploring the ethics of veganism and that’s when I decided that it was where I wanted to focus my work.

You are a registered dietitian (RD) who advises people about nutrition. I also often see nutritionists offering (sometimes dubious) dietary advice. What is the difference between the title ‘RD’ and the title ‘Nutritionist’?

A registered dietitian has to complete a curriculum that includes courses like biochemistry and physiology as well as courses in nutrition and diet therapy at an accredited college. Getting RD credentials also requires a practical internship and then passing a national exam. To call yourself a nutritionist requires—well, basically that you call yourself a nutritionist. Anybody can do so whether they have training or not. This explains the dubious advice often coming from self-proclaimed nutrition experts.

Apparently humans have been eating to sustain ourselves for quite some time. So why does there still seem to be so much confusion about what the ideal diet for human health is?

Within mainstream nutrition, there actually is some consensus about healthy diets. I think most experts agree that eating a variety of minimally processed foods with an emphasis on plant foods is important for health.

But we also have lots of new information about how diet affects health and also about how to meet nutrient needs. And these are things that are not necessarily intuitive. Our ancestors may not have always met nutrient needs, for example, so it’s information that can serve us well.

But definitive answers about nutrition can be hard to come by. And new questions seem to follow closely on the heels of new knowledge. For example, nutritionists have long known that calcium is important for bones, but as more research is done in this area, we have less clarity on how much calcium is needed. As people live longer, issues like calcium needs become more important.

Since studies on any particular aspect of nutrition are often conflicting, we have to wait for more research so that we can see where the bulk of the evidence lies. It takes time to gather all of that information—and in the meantime, we’re dealing with confusing and incomplete knowledge. This is why I tell vegans to be wary of “experts” who insist that they know the one and only healthy way to eat. No one who is looking at the scientific research honestly and critically would claim to know that.

When we see an article that touts the health benefits of a vegan diet we tend to accept and celebrate the findings with little skepticism; conversely any article that suggests there are health risks associated with veganism is scrutinized for inaccuracies. How does our confirmation bias affect the way we think about, promote and eat plant-based food?

Some vegans find it impossible to believe that a vegan diet is not the only healthy way to eat. Or that you can actually eat small amounts of animal foods and be healthy. It may be because they have chosen a vegan diet for health reasons, and information that challenges that is a threat to what they believe about food. Or it might be because they are ethical vegans and promoting veganism as the ideal health-promoting diet is part of their advocacy. Whatever the reason, it’s a strong bias that can cause vegans to view all pro-vegan research favorably (even when it’s not especially good research) and all pro-meat or dairy research as “biased” or faulty for one reason or another.

The fact is that most research is faulty to some degree; all studies have weaknesses. And much research is biased even when it’s not funded by a group with monetary interests in the outcome. Individual researchers can be (understandably) biased if they’ve built a career around a particular dietary theory or if they simply have an ethical or philosophical perspective that makes them favor a particular outcome. There are people doing research on vegan and vegetarian diets who have strong biases in favor of these diets for one reason or another. It doesn’t mean their research is bad, but it’s naïve of vegans to believe that biases exist on only one side. We have to look closely at how the research was conducted to determine its value, not just at who is doing or paying for the research. Vegans have to be willing to do this if we want our movement to be viewed as credible.

There seems to be a reluctance among vegans to eat anything we deem ‘unnatural’. This may mean more vegan sausages for us at barbecues but it can also lead to vegans neglecting their health by avoiding B12 fortified foods or supplements. Why do you think some vegans are so adverse to ‘unnatural’ foods and how can we convince them to give processed food a chance?

Among health-oriented people in general, there is this idea that “natural” means “better.” But this is based on beliefs rather than actual evidence. In fact, evidence sometimes suggests otherwise. For example, we know that for many people over the age of 50, synthetic vitamin B12 supplements are more effective than natural sources of B12 like meat and milk. For young children whose stomachs fill up quickly, including some refined grains in the diet can make it easier to meet calorie needs. Foods like tofu and soymilk are processed products that use only part of the soybean, but they are foods that can be extremely important sources of protein in some diets.

And we have to realize that this whole idea of “natural diet” is faulty and potentially problematic for vegans. What does it mean to eat the natural diet of humans? It probably means eating some animal foods—at the very least, insects and lizards and eggs. So I don’t think vegans should worry too much about whether all of their food choices are natural. We should just worry about eating a diet that causes no harm to others and that protects our health. There is no evidence that such a diet can’t include vegetable oils, veggie meats and fortified foods.

Similarly, there is a large anti-GMO sentiment in the vegan community, which makes veganism seem harder, and vegans seem irrational*. How do you suggest we convince these people of the scientific consensus that GMO crops are not only safe to consume but have huge benefits in getting adequate nutrition to people in the third world* ?

I think vegans need to consider the broad range of possible outcomes of genetic engineering, some of which can clearly reduce animal use. Genetic engineering allowed us to stop using insulin from slaughtered animals to manage diabetes. It has given us a vegan flu vaccine. These may be small examples, but they speak to the potential for alternatives to animal use. And of course, there are other exciting possibilities like the Real Vegan Cheese project*.

I know that’s a little bit different from what you asked about. I can’t argue very well for or against the safety or benefits of GMO crops because I have no expertise in this area (although, based on what I know, I don’t feel at all compelled to seek out non-GMO foods). My concern really is that a flat-out rejection of this technology closes the door on a tool that will very likely help us further veganism more quickly. We have to at least stay open to the possibilities.

A lot of vegans are healthy active people who eat balanced diets and they make great adverts for veganism. Those of us who are not quite as health focused can feel as though we are not good advocates because we do not match the ideal healthy aesthetic. Do you think vegans who enjoy sitting around reading and eating chips rather than jogging and eating kale can contribute to animal advocacy?

Making lifestyle choices to optimize health is definitely a good thing. But it has nothing to do with veganism, which is a stance against the use and exploitation of animals. We really need to stop conflating the two. For better or worse, a lot of people don’t care about their health or maybe they do, but they just like junk food too much to do anything about it. Do I want those people to be vegan? Absolutely yes, because I want everyone to be vegan. I also want everyone to have access to information that will allow them to optimize their health. But if someone doesn’t want that information or has no intention of using it, then I want them to know that they don’t have to give up potato chips and French fries in order to be vegan.

So I don’t think you have to be in perfect health or that you have to engage in healthy behavior in order to advocate for animals. On the other hand, choosing a vegan diet that doesn’t meet nutrient needs is poor animal advocacy. Meat-eaters don’t worry that they’re going to get cancer or heart disease if they go vegan. They worry that they will get osteoporosis or anemia. Those are the concerns we need to disprove, so I think that vegans do need to pay attention to meeting nutrient needs even if they prefer potato chips to kale.

To get to the vegan cheese in my local health food shop I have to wade through a torrent of pseudo scientific remedies and trinkets. Why do you think veganism and ‘healthy eating’ more broadly has formed such a close association with woo?

When people who don’t know me find out that I’m vegan they almost always assume that it’s for my health and that I’m interested in all kinds of natural health remedies and dietary theories. They think I’m gluten-free and eat only organic foods. Many people don’t understand what veganism is and they reduce it to some dietary health fad. Unfortunately, the vegan community sometimes aids in this perception. I’ve seen a lot of questionable supplements and treatments being advocated at veg fests.

And there is this idea—which probably has some truth to it—that when someone believes you need to give up entire categories of food in order to be healthy, they are going to be open to other unfounded theories about diet and health. And, so veganism just kind of gets tossed into the pile of dietary theories along with Paleolithic and gluten-free diets and with pseudoscience like homeopathy and colon cleansing.

You’ve said that the ‘health argument’ for veganism fails:

“There is, of course, a pretty good argument for eating more plants (lots more plants) and less animal food, but no one has shown that you must eat a 100 percent plant diet in order to be healthy”*

As an RD if you are not promoting veganism for its alleged health benefits, based on your knowledge of nutrition what do you see as your role within the vegan community?

My focus is on countering misinformation about alleged “dangers” of veganism (like a lot of the things coming out of the paleo and low-carb communities) and on providing information to ensure that vegans will meet nutrient needs in ways that also reduce chronic disease risk. My view is that veganism is a moral imperative—so the only thing we really need to show is that it is possible to be a healthy vegan. There is no need to try to prove the unprovable—that a vegan diet is the only healthy way to eat.

Thanks again to Ginny for answering our questions. If you haven’t already we would highly recommend checking out her books* and blog. For any new vegans or those considering the transition, Ginny’s blog has an excellent simple presentation The Seven habits of Healthy Happy Vegans on how to construct a healthy vegan diet.

In the vegan community there is an unfortunate amount of misleading and sometimes dangerous dietary advice. It is important that we support and promote the work of evidence based dietitians like Ginny because we want her good advice to keep us healthy and her honest and straightforward manner to characterise our movement.

The vegan internet was abuzz over Penn Jillette’s recent weight loss and his current plant-based diet. But when it comes to celebrities, weight and veganism, I’m always more than a little cautious.

Here are three reasons why I think it’s a mistake to view Penn’s experience as good PR for veganism.

1. He lost weight on a very low calorie diet (which may or may not have been vegan; he hasn’t said). He reports that he lost 100 pounds in 100 days. That’s quite an accomplishment and I don’t mean to dismiss it in any way. But fast weight loss due to extremely low calorie intake is hard to sustain. Only time will tell whether he is able to maintain the weight loss.

2. His current diet doesn’t exactly create a compelling picture of the joys of vegan living. Here is how Penn’s diet is described in one article

Vegetables—raw, steamed in a salad or stewed—as well as black or brown rice, and fruits for dessert (with plain cocoa powder) is his daily diet*

Aside from the fact that this diet is nutritionally deficient, it doesn’t sound like a very inviting introduction to veganism. In fact, it sounds like a great way to discourage people from ever considering this way of eating.

1. Penn Jillette does not appear to be a friend to animals. He has spoken out against animal rights. And in response to some tweets about his weight loss, he has said that he is not part of “the vegan movement” and has not changed his perspective.

I have to say, I simply do not get this “celebrities and weight loss” brand of vegan activism. It sets vegan diets up to fail, because that’s what happens when vegans (especially those in the public eye) get sick or gain back their weight or start eating meat and eggs again. It presents veganism as the most unattractive eating plan on earth. And it turns its back on the core value of veganism, which is animal rights.

Losing weight on 1,000 calories per day does not show “the power of plants” as some have proclaimed. It shows the power of semi-starvation. And that is probably not the best approach to advocating for animals or for encouraging people to adopt healthy and sustainable vegan diets.

PMF: No one can live without harming others creatures to some extent. Our very existences perturb the existences of those around us. Is the extent to which we compromise our own comfort or pleasure subjective and personal? Or is there a rational position from which we can work out how much harm is acceptable?

RJ: The idea that nature is red in tooth and claw, as Tennyson put it, fuels not just an irrational belief from some philosophers that we should mimic nature, but also a great deal of discomfort from those interested in ethics and alleviating suffering. That animals of all kinds vary in population not by choice but primarily by starvation and surplus, in cycles, can be a sobering experience for those of us in ethics who naively considered it our job to save the world. The suffering we have the capacity to eliminate, through amending human actions, is relatively low (as far as we can estimate). Yet it is no less important or indeed necessary.

To further chain our optimism; as the question suggests, simply by existing we likely harm other’s chances of doing likewise. The cars we drive, houses we build, fields we co-opt and farm; for every one of us there is a relationship between resources used and suffering caused elsewhere, for which we all take a share of responsibility.

I briefly mentioned earlier that a rational view of ethics can not be all-knowing. We aren’t inventing assumptions so as we can have nice, clean moral guides, and we aren’t praying so as we can receive a justification for our current opinions. If we want our moral opinions to be based on and informed by reason, then sometimes we won’t get an answer, because we don’t know the outcomes of every possible situation, but also because you can sometimes be left with two very bad choices. It strikes me that, in a very real sense, this question is positing one of those ‘bad choice vs. bad choice’ situations.

To answer the question properly, now I have suitably lowered the expectations for an answer: I think we should accept that less harm is generally better. This means that if we can make choices for less harm then we should do so. However a massive caveat in that narrow principle should be that self-care is extremely important. Every sentient being on earth experiences suffering because it allows us to better understand and avoid that which worsens our wellbeing. Consequently, our individual ability to look after ourselves is almost always superior to someone else’s ability to look after us.

Mental health, for instance, is an undervalued and severe form of suffering. In the vast majority of cases, mental health issues can be hidden or else not noticed by those not suffering them. So this is a great example of why we shouldn’t ever devalue our own wellbeing to the same level as someone else’s: one of the most important factors of a rational, functioning society would be in accepting that we each have a superior ability to judge and look out for our own wellbeing. To fail in doing this would be to advocate a martyristic, almost religious view of ethics, where we all devalue our own wellbeing in the pursuit of the ‘greater good’, rather than a rational view which accepted the reality of individual sentience and aspects like mental health.

This importance of self-care/wellbeing, stands in almost complete opposition to notions of environmental harm. The more resources we devote to ourselves, the more we take from elsewhere. So we encounter a situation requiring balance. If we are thinking about this in a linear perspective – with complete egotistical actions on one end, and environmental martyrism on the other – clearly the right answer is somewhere in the middle. A middle ground whereby we have a responsibility to keep ourselves alive and free from suffering, alongside an obligation to cause only the harm it is reasonable to. But what an interesting time to be alive and involved in ethics this is; someone could decide to start writing a book on this very issue tomorrow, and unearth evidence and arguments that completely disprove all of the above.

In a vegan context, the conversation is complicated by the fact that flu shots are generally made with eggs. This leads to heartache, as people have to choose between what’s best for their own and their family’s health, and being true to values that they have worked hard to live by. This can lead to motivated reasoning, where people may choose to believe that vaccines are ineffective or unsafe, rather than face the ethical dilemma.

I think it’s important to foster appreciation for science and objectivity within the vegan community, even when that means facing facts that we’re not wild about. Flu shots are a safe, effective technology, and we should seriously consider getting these vaccinations, even though they are generally not vegan.

Why should I get a flu shot?

Flu shots are associated with better performance in a broad array of health outcomes. Flu shots provide about 50% protection against getting the flu in any given year. (That is, vaccinated people get the flu half as frequently as those who are not vaccinated.) While this is less than the complete immunity given by some vaccinations, it still makes a meaningful difference to individual and community health.

The flu is particularly damaging to groups at high risk of flu complications, such as young children, the elderly, pregnant women, and people with various chronic diseases*.

It’s important to recognize that vaccinations, flu and otherwise, are not a strictly personal decision. Your choice to vaccinate or not affects those you come into contact with, and society more broadly. Even if you are not at high risk of flu complications, some of those that you come into contact with may be. By getting a flu shot, you are helping to protect your community members.

Why aren’t flu shots vegan?

Influenza viruses only grow in animal tissue, which means that animal products are required to produce them. The standard method of producing vaccines involves growing the virus in fertilized eggs. The CDC explains:

These vaccine viruses are then injected into fertilized hen’s eggs and incubated for several days to allow the viruses to replicate. The virus-containing fluid is harvested from the eggs. For flu shots, the influenza viruses for the vaccine are then inactivated (killed), and virus antigen is purified*.

The final vaccine is the isolated antigen — the virus proteins that the body recognizes as foreign, and develops an immunity toward. It’s these proteins, rather than the virus itself, that results in immunity.

Are there any alternative methods of making flu shots?

Yes! This is an area where there has been a lot of recent progress, partly because the existing egg-based production system is slow and difficult to scale. Because the technology has changed so quickly, vegan communities may not be up to date on the new flu vaccines.

In 2012, a “cell-based” flu vaccine was approved. This vaccine strategy still uses eggs to grow an initial virus culture, but uses cultured animal cells to grow the the much larger amount of virus needed for vaccination. This avoids the majority of the egg use in the vaccine production process. At time of writing, there is only one cell-based flu vaccine in the US: Flucelvax*.

In 2013, a recombinant flu vaccine was approved. This strategy does not use eggs at all. Instead, the virus protein that triggers immune response is isolated, and genetically added to a virus that grows well in vitro on cultured insect cells. Once the virus has grown, the antigen is filtered out as usual, producing a vaccine. There is one recombinant flu vaccine approved in the US: FluBlok. The has FDA expanded its approval to cover all adults over 18 years old*. (Previously it was approved for adults ages 18-49.)

There continues to be a lot of research in this area, and I came across research toward plant-based recombinant flu vaccines* while writing this post. It seems likely that vaccines will be more vegan-friendly in the future, in order to solve some of the technical limitations of egg-based vaccines.

So are these vegan?

Yes, more or less.

I’m comfortable calling the FluBlok vaccine vegan. I haven’t verified that its production uses no animal products, however this vaccine strategy does not require animal products fundamentally. Regardless whether it is strictly vegan, it is moving vaccines away from using eggs, which is something I’m happy to support.

I also think that Flucelvax worth supporting. Even though Flucelvax it is arguably not vegan (since it participates in the CDC process of delivering virus grown in eggs to vaccine manufacturers), the cell-based approach has different strengths and weaknesses compared to the recombinant approach, and this approach could easily lead to effective vegan vaccines in the future that could overcome potential weaknesses of the recombinant approach. (More on this below.)

I think that vegans should get flu shots, including conventional flu shots when vegan versions are not available or are not medically appropriate for them. Vaccines save lives, including the immunocompromised and those who cannot get vaccines for medical reasons. We can all help them by getting vaccinated. If you’re able to get one of the new vaccines, you can participate in moving the science forward toward vegan solutions.

Update: Getting a Vegan Flu Shot in 2015 (in the US)*

Last year, I wrote the above, covering the science, and some of the reasons why flu shots, and recombinant flu shots in particular, are a good idea. The science hasn’t changed much since then, but vegan flu shots are a bit easier to find. This update covers getting FluBlok, the recombinant flu vaccine approved in the US, in 2015.

How to find FluBlok

Most major pharmacy chains (eg. Walgreens) still do not carry FluBlok. Here are some places you can find FluBlok this year:

Target Pharmacies – The biggest change from last year may be that Target pharmacies now carry FluBlok. No appointment necessary, but it may be wise to call ahead. I had no trouble getting a FluBlok flu shot at a Target Pharmacy, but they indicated that they only had a few doses left. They take insurance, otherwise the vaccine costs around $30.

Passport Health Clinics – Passport Health offers FluBlok by appointment, also for around $30. I got a FluBlok flu shot at Passport Health last year, and this is described in last year’s article. (SF residents: Passport Health has moved to Laurel Heights since last year.)

Some clinics and smaller pharmacies may carry FluBlok. You can use HealthMap Vaccine Finder* to find pharmacies that carry FluBlok. I recommend calling and asking though, as some clinics that are marked as carrying it may be out of stock, and some data may be entered incorrectly. (For instance, Pharmaca in San Francisco is marked as carrying recombinant vaccines, but I’ve contacted them twice, and they explained that their supplier does not provide FluBlok, so they do not carry it.)

Asking for FluBlok

Even pharmacies that carry FluBlok may not know it by that name. If the pharmacy you contact hasn’t heard of Flublok, try asking for the “recombinant” or “egg-free” vaccine. If you’re not sure, you can always ask your pharmacist what the manufacturer of their vaccine options is.

You may be asked multiple times if you have an egg allergy, since that is the common reason for requesting FluBlok (or the “egg-free” flu shot, as it is often referred to). You can answer truthfully, even if they ask repeatedly. They are very likely simply trying to make sure you filled out the paperwork correctly, and that you did not misunderstand the form. They are probably not trying to pressure you out of that vaccine type, even if it may seem that way.

(I was asked if I ate eggs, “even in cookies”, and I informed them that I did not, but that it was not due to an allergy. That seemed to be sufficient.)

As far as I’m aware, anyone can request FluBlok. Most insurance plans will cover it regardless of egg allergy status, and it’s only around $30 if you pay for it yourself.

Other alternatives

I’ve focused on FluBlok, since I think it’s an interesting technology, however Flucelvax is also a technology worth supporting. Flucelvax is another vaccine grown in vitro in cell cultures, rather than in eggs, for production. Flucelvax uses virus samples delivered from the CDC in chicken eggs, but does not use eggs in its manufacturing process, so the process has a tiny, but nonzero egg footprint.

Moving medicine forward

A lot of medicine is not entirely vegan. I do not recommend avoiding medicine, especially medicine with serious public health implications such as vaccines, regardless of animal product content. For instance, I recommend conventional flu shots when recombinant flu shots are not available (including for children, for whom alternatives are not yet approved).

However sometimes we have the opportunity to help push medicine forward — toward biotechnology and away from animal products. Flu shots are currently such an opportunity, and vegans should embrace and advocate for recombinant flu shots.

In addition to reducing animal use, these technologies could overcome weaknesses in the conventional egg-based process — vulnerability to changes in egg supply, long delay to ramp up production, slow response to virus mutation, inability to respond quickly to an outbreak, and losing vaccine efficacy in “reassortment” process that adapts the virus to growing in eggs.

Recombinant flu shots also demonstrate why I would like vegans to be open to biotechnology. Recombinant genetic techniques gave us insulin for diabetics without needing to take it from slaughtered animals. Current research projects may give us DHA (an omega-3 fatty acid not found in plants) in canola oil, B12 in plant foods, and even dairy made from yeast. Opposing biotechnology and delaying these projects could do real harm to animals.

One of the ways that we will reduce our use of animals is by using biotechnology to replace animal products in medicine and food. We should be open to this technology as a community, and should support biotech projects that reduce animal use.

I was interested to read your thoughts on cloning, a topic I rarely see addressed in the animal rights movement. Many people might expect an animal activist and environmentalist such as yourself to be enthusiastic about the prospect of de-extinction* promised by genetic engineering. Can you explain what your reservations are and what it’s like to find yourself in opposition to some environmentalists who are often seen to be allied with the vegan movement?

Yes, certainly! I actually did not arrive at this conclusion right away. When I first heard of de-extinction I did immediately think it was a good idea— until further reflection and research helped me realize myriad problems. For starters, animals that were extinct many, many years ago, may have lived in habitats that no longer exist, or that are scarce. So, if we de-extinct them, where will they go? (Similarly, their source(s) of food may be limited or no longer existent; how will we feed them?) They will ultimately be left at our mercy, and no such animal can ever be said to truly have “autonomy.”

Secondly, it’s important to note I think that the term “de-extinction” does not literally mean, “bring back dead animals.” That is still impossible. What it means, rather, is to genetically manipulate existing animals in order to recreate animals that mirror, as closely as possible, the extinct ones— which is a violation of the autonomy of the existing animals and, therefore, to me, patently unethical.

Finally, I am concerned that spreading this message that we can bring back the dead will cause folks to be even less ecologically minded than they already are. Some people at least pay some attention to endangered species and take action for them, but if everyone believes that it’s possible to just bring back whoever we kill, then there will be less of an incentive for us to be mindful in our actions, and the rate at which we each contribute to environmental destruction may increase. People need to take these matters seriously and be committed to preventing extinction rather than relying on de-extinction to undo the damage we cause.

You briefly touch on some examples of religious teachings that seem to support compassion toward animals. I wonder if you have read Kim Socha’s Animal Liberation and Atheism and how you would respond to her argument that ‘with hierarchy - and concomitantly, human supremacy - as a base religious arguments for animal liberation will always crumble when interrogated’?*

I personally am an atheist, and the examples I mention of religion are just examples I find inspirational, whether they are “true” or “happened” or not. I think we can all learn a lot from religious fables, independent of whether or not we believe in a God/Goddess or Gods/Goddesses. I treat these as I would any other fable or story — they do not have special meaning to me because they happen to be religious in nature.

I would like to note, however, a very intelligent insight found in John Sanbonmatsu’s The Postmodern Prince: Critical Theory, Left Strategy, and the Making of a New Political Subject:

One of the weaknesses of the left, in fact, has been its historical reluctance to declare itself openly as a moral and spiritual movement, hence to put forth a bold ontology and ethics of its own. Gramsci, like Marx, failed to specify the normative or ethical content of his “religious” vision, apart from socializing production through an ethical relation between leaders and led. But socialism cannot give us our ethics; our ethics gives us our socialism. That is, because our foundational moral beliefs and commitments define our perceptual objects for us, they play a crucial role in shaping the specific form of action that we end up with. It is therefore important that we take care to spell these out.*

In other words, while he does not say the left should declare itself a religious movement outright, he declares, and I’m inclined to agree, that in its desperation to appear “rational” and even “respectable”, the left often minimizes the spiritual elements of its goals — such as empathy and justice— in favor of pushing forth the more “practical” reasons for its platform, such as both human and environmental health. The left has been characterized negatively for so long as a collection of misfits in crappy clothes, smoking pot and checking their homes for wire taps every ten minutes, that we’ve overcompensated by shying away from using examples such as religious fables or quotes from religious leaders in our work— to our own detriment.

What is needed is not merely a new vision of what a particular industrial or political structure might look like — such as folks like Marx and Gramsci attempted to give us — but a wholesale re-imagining of society itself, complete with a sound ethical foundation. Looking to past example of how society has been imagined, be they religious in origin or otherwise, strikes me as perfectly reasonable in trying to reimagine society today.

I am uncomfortable with the blurring of the terms ‘moral’ ‘empathetic’ and ‘spiritual’ which often seems to happen in discussions like these. Like you, as an atheist, I do not need to believe in an intangible spiritual essence to myself, other beings or the world to formulate a coherent moral framework that informs my choices.

In order to create a society with the sound ethical foundation that we both want, don’t you think it is better to rely on secular moral philosophy that can stand up to rigorous investigation rather than fables?

Yes, absolutely! I don’t think relying on any specific religion will ultimately yield the result we want. I just think that examples, such as fables and specific quotes, from religion help articulate our ideas and inspire action, and so don’t think we need to actively shy away from employing these. But ultimately, any moral philosophy based strictly on any one religion cannot hope to change society, because then getting everyone to convert to that religion would be a prerequisite for social change. I also think relying on religious doctrine to organize society absolves us to an extent of personal responsibility, and people are more likely in general to stick with a regimen or way of life if they feel personally responsible for having chosen it, and for their impact on the world — rather than just going through the motions because someone said everyone should, and everyone else seems to agree.

Your book serves as a partial survey of the current state of the animal rights movement. You discuss the prevalence of ‘humanewashing’* used by companies and provide examples of organisations that you admire and see as positive forces for change. Can you give us a brief sketch of the current animal rights movements landscape and explain how the companies you critique and the organisations you support fit in?

One fundamental distinction that exists within the Animal “Rights” Movement (I prefer to speak of liberation myself, as whether animals have rights is tricky, given that many humans in many instances still don’t have rights. Whereas rights are given by society, liberty is something with which we are born— no one has to initially “give” us liberty in order for us to have it.) is that between welfarists and liberationists. Welfarists concern themselves primarily with incremental changes, such as bigger cages and pens for animals being farmed, while liberationists aim to see animal agriculture ended once and for all.

While the welfarist position is tempting, given that so many animals are suffering right now that it’s hard to not want to improve their lot right away, and full-scale liberation may still be a ways off, it is ultimately not my preferred position for many reasons. One is that I worry that when the public hears of these small-scale victories, it perpetuates the notion that animals are property, and as long as this property is treated reasonably well we may continue to treat it as property. To me, animals are not property— period. Secondly, many of the incremental changes proposed by welfarist organizations fail to account for the damage they may do to non-farmed animals. For instance, in an interview with ARZone, Lee Hall, author of the book On Their Own Terms: Bringing Animal Rights Philosophy Down to Earth, points out that “…expanded cages and pastures take habitat away from free-living animals.”

The left has been characterized negatively for so long as a collection of misfits in crappy clothes, smoking pot and checking their homes for wire taps every ten minutes, that we’ve overcompensated by shying away from using examples such as religious fables or quotes from religious leaders in our work— to our own detriment

I do mention some incremental changes in my book, such as the bullhook ban in Oakland, CA and other cities, but this I included specifically because of what former mayor Quan said at the end of the hearing at which the bullhook ban was accepted as a proposal to be voted on in the following weeks: “Honestly, I am certain that the day will soon come when we will see a ban on elephants being used in circuses altogether…” I was surprised to hear a notable politician say something so patently liberationist that it gave me hope that this incremental change would lead to bigger changes soon to come (without, as welfarist initiatives around farming often do, displacing or otherwise disadvantaging other creatures).

Many welfarists claim that they, too, are liberationists— liberationists who care too deeply for animals suffering right now to wait until liberation happens in order to help them. Where I disagree with these folks is that I worry their successes are actively delaying the moment of true liberation by satisfying the public with crumbs, such that they are less vocal about demanding the loaf. If people think there’s a “humane” way to kill someone, they may never consider the very notion that killing is wrong— whether the victim is human or bovine or porcine or aquatic or avian.

This is what humanewashing means, and Whole Foods is a great example of this. Whole Foods has successfully convinced many of its consumers that buying its deli meats is an act of “Animal Compassion” (as a sign reads over its deli meats section at several, if not all, locations). It uses perverse slogans such as “Cook a fish, save a fish!” to imply that you are not only not hurting but actively helping animals by eating their dead bodies.

Direct Action Everywhere has been campaigning against Whole Foods since January of this year, while PETA recently filed a lawsuit against the corporate giant for false advertising.

I chose to highlight four groups as being successful in putting animal liberation on the public agenda: Animal Liberation Victoria, Direct Action Everywhere, the Animal Legal Defense Fund, and the Nonhuman Rights Project. I felt that the first two are successful mainly in using a) protests/extended campaigns and b) open rescue and investigation to get the issue on the table. The latter two are successful in using the letter of the law to further the cause, and even campaigning for those letters to be changed. The Nonhuman Rights Project in particular has been challenging since at least 2013, if not before, the legal definition of personhood.

Finally, I appreciate your intention to create a ‘safe space’ where advocates can respectfully and rationally discuss the future of the movement. In the book, you write ‘Maintaining a safe space, to me, means hosting a space- either physical or virtual- of mutual respect and acknowledgement, where people feel safe speaking openly about their views. This, too, is a bigger challenge than it may appear at first.’

What do you see as the most important discussions that either are not yet being had or are not being given enough attention?

Well, I have to admit first and foremost that I doubt I’ll say anything here that others haven’t already said elsewhere. Creating a safe space has been a hot button issue for a long time now, in various circles— social justice, various businesses, and even schools. Based on my experiences, however, I can issue a few warnings here…

One thing that is crucial in not just creating but also maintaining a safe space is to allow dissent. What that means is not simply to say, over and over again, “We welcome and allow dissent,” or something to that effect. What it looks like in practice is, if someone in your group offers their personal opinion publically, even if that opinion is not in line with that of the leadership, provided the comment is made respectfully (i.e. doesn’t insult anyone, doesn’t use offensive language, etc.), leadership should not contact that person to express dismay at the comment.

When that happens, people feel silenced, and when that happens, there may be one of two negative consequences. The first is that that person no longer feels safe voicing their opinion, and so you lose the ability to tap into their insight and possibly learn anything from them. Secondly, if this or similar things happen often enough, and someone feels they have been silenced, ignored or dismissed not once but two or three or even seven times, then sooner or later, that person is bound to leave your community.

Another aspect of creating and maintaining a safe space involves giving people a certain level of autonomy over their projects. This doesn’t mean that there can’t be any oversight or that no one is allowed to give the person feedback, but, say you task someone with being a website manager. If that person has ideas about how to improve the website, you should support them. If they feel that something about the process is going wrong, and want to revise the process, you should empower them to do so— because that’s what managers do. They manage.

Too much oversight/lack of autonomy over assigned projects makes people feel used— as if they’re not really the web manager or the blog manager or the workshop facilitator or the event coordinator, etc., but that you are dishonestly telling people they are without actually allowing them to fulfill their alleged role. This is demotivating, and leads to both a lack of trust and a lack of enthusiasm over the project.

One thing that is crucial in not just creating but also maintaining a safe space is to allow dissent

Finally, in all social justice movements, I think intersectionality is really crucial, and is perhaps one of the biggest things lacking in almost all animal liberation groups. I want to note here that intersectionality and diversity are not synonymous— and shamelessly plug the fact that I wrote an essay on this very topic that readers can find on UntilEveryAnimalisFree.Com, as a Supplementary Essay (or by viewing the link above).

Diversity means you have a lot of different people, from various backgrounds, of different ages and genders, etc., in a room together. This is an important part of intersectionality, but it is NOT intersectionality itself. True intersectionality means incorporating not just Black and brown bodies into your network (or bodies of varying ages, genders, etc.) but also Black and brown, etc. ideas. Aph Ko wrote brilliantly about this a few months after I wrote my own essay*, and I immediately revised mine to include her insights on the subject.

Many animal liberationists do not feel safe in animal liberation spaces because these spaces don’t always come out strongly against other forms of injustice, such as police brutality, veganwashing in Israel, about which I also wrote a Supplementary Essay: There is No Such Thing as a Vegan Country, or hierarchical power structures in which male activists habitually tell female activists what to do and ignore the feedback they receive from female activists. It is of the utmost importance when creating a safe space to not only protect the rights of your community members to voice their own opinions (again, provided these are voiced respectfully) but also to illustrate habitually that their ideas matter by actually changing course on occasion based on feedback from marginalized persons. It means precious little to tell a marginalized person, “You have been heard,” when there is no measurable result in the end, no indication following that shows you’re not only “listening to” or “hearing” the marginalized person but are actively changing the way you do things to reflect the insight(s) you’ve been given.

Of course, this doesn’t mean you have to, say, do everything every female activist tells you to do, because they are female. But if you find yourself telling the same female once, twice, three times over, that you will not accept her ideas, you should take a moment to ask yourself: “Are there any male activists in our community whose ideas I’ve dismissed this many times?” Or in cases when you simply don’t respond for a long time: “Do male activists have to wait this long for me to give them a simple Yes or No?” In order for a space to be equally safe for all those who enter it, everyone must be held to the same standard of comportment and subject to the same exact processes; anything short of that replicates the very hierarchies and injustices that social justice advocates seek to rectify.

These are subtle ways in which hierarchy and lack of intersectionality creep into even the most well-meaning communities. I’ve often seen men allowed to circumvent certain processes in order to do what they wanted immediately, while women had to wait weeks to endure the process and could not circumvent it. I’ve seen initiatives that were conceived by a person of color be handed over, without any explanation, to the control of a white person. In any community, this is awful, but it is particularly distressing to see or experience in communities that are expressly committed to justice for all sentient beings.

I love hearing people’s vegan origin stories, so I appreciate that you begin your book with a description of your childhood and some of the motivations that inform your commitment to animal activism. What do you think was the most important or illustrative event that made you the activist you are today?

Honestly, I don’t have such an event to share, and this was perhaps the hardest chapter of the entire book for me to put together. Animal liberationists, like members of any other subset of our society, have a unique culture, and there are certain staples of this culture that I simply do not share. For instance, many celebrate “veganniversaries”— the anniversary of the day on which they decided to go vegan. I do not remember the exact day that I went vegan. I do not really have a “Why/how I went vegan” story, though I hope that chapter in my book sheds light on the circumstances and ideas that may have ultimately contributed to this mindset developing within me. But for me, it wasn’t a moment, an epiphany striking me like a lightning bolt; it was simply the accumulation of information coupled with my desire to be ethically consistent— to put my money where my mouth is, so to speak. Once I had the facts, it didn’t seem possible for me to not “go vegan.”

Glad to hear I’m not the only one who can’t celebrate my ‘veganniversary’. Maybe the lack of a personal ‘epiphany’ is what makes me so hungry to hear about others’.

You are clearly highly motivated by the empathy you have for animals. At several points in your book you describe the ‘moral argument’ for veganism as though it were synonymous with the ‘emotional argument’. Do you see veganism as a philosophy contingent upon empathy?

I do think that empathy goes a long way in someone committing to vegan living, but no, I don’t ultimately think it’s necessary, or that going vegan is contingent upon empathy. “Selfish” or human-centric reasons for going vegan abound, such as the common need among all of us to have clean air and water. I can easily imagine someone who doesn’t care one iota about nonhumans still going vegan, for instance, so as to minimize their contribution to drought conditions here in California, or so as not to contribute to environmental devastation and misuse of resources involved in animal agriculture. The movie Cowspiracy* does a brilliant job, in my opinion, of exploring some of these reasons for going vegan, while it does ultimately end with an ethical message.

You spend a substantial portion of the book discussing animal sentience and particularly focus on fish in the chapter ‘Nirvana was being sarcastic: The Truth about Fish’. Can you give us a brief summary of your research on fish sentience and explain why you thought it was useful to explore the minds of animals which are often thought of as a fringe case for consciousness or sentience?

Sure, I’d be happy to. So the reason I felt fish in particular, and ocean life more generally, deserved to be featured independently of other animals is because of the word “pescatarian”*, and the existence of people who say things like, “I’m vegetarian, but sometimes I eat fish.” I feel that even among those who empathize with land animals, precious few people actually care about fish— even within animal liberation communities! There is this assumption that they’re like swimming carrots— that they don’t think or feel, but only move.

At one point in my book I discuss the common argument that it must be okay for us to eat meat because cavemen did it. I ask why this is considered a valid response given that it is never used in any other scenario. For instance, with respect to science, to education, to how we treat our friends and relatives, no one ever says, “We should do it this way, because that’s how cavemen did it.

So I sought to discover whether or not this was true, and the results were basically thus: while some are hesitant to call it pain and instead use more convoluted phrases like “discomfort” or “distress signal,” it has been confirmed that fish and most— if not all— shellfish are capable of experiencing pain— even if the mechanisms that sense and respond to this pain are different from yours or mine. They are also capable of learning, exhibiting fear, and participating in communities.

One of the most fascinating things I learned about fish, actually, is the complexity with which their communities can be structured. I knew they had a group of other fish with whom they swam and preferred to be around, perhaps for safety, but I didn’t know, for instance, that it was possible to be a high-profile or “popular” fish in your shoal. I did not know that a fish could have an anxiety attack upon being separated from their shoal. I did not know that there were commonly preyed-upon fish, such as several species of damselfish, who could actually cooperate in order to attack or even confuse or mislead a predator. They are capable of far more complex thinking and strategizing than I would ever have guessed before actively studying them.

I had hoped that by sharing this information with the world, I might convince some of those “pesky pescatarians” to develop the same regard for ocean life that they have already developed for land life.

Several times in the book you describe human beings as herbivores*, which is (unfortunately, in my view) common in vegan circles. Our current knowledge of human evolutionary history and biology seems to indicate that we are omnivorous**. Do you think humans are actually herbivores?

You know, I’m really glad you’ve asked me about that. You see, the initial drafts of the book included an entire chapter entitled, “SURPRISE! You’re an Herbivore!” Ultimately it was decided to remove this chapter because the rest of the book focused on ethics, and my publisher felt it would be odd to include a single chapter on health in the middle of a book about ethics.

In this chapter, I outline research by anatomists, doctors and others which indicates strongly— in my mind, proves, but perhaps you’d disagree— that we are in fact herbivores. Since it was cut, I decided to make it available as a free PDF via the book’s website, UntilEveryAnimalisFree.Com. There, there is a tab labeled Bonus Chapter and Supplementary Essays. The bonus chapter is this health chapter, while the supplementary essays address issues that for whatever reason I was unable to address in the book—because certain folks weren’t available to provide their input, because I didn’t know of a particular person or organization while writing the book, or because a specific issue arose well after the book went into production and it was too late for me to make changes or additions.

Rather than sit here and try to regurgitate from memory all that I learned in researching that chapter, I think the best way for folks such as yourself to get a handle on our herbivorous design would be to check out SURPRISE! You’re an Herbivore!

I’m aware of the documented health benefits of reducing meat consumption. But, to get pedantic, even if it were proven that the optimal diet for human health is a vegan one, we would still be classified as omnivores since the word refers to our habits not our ‘design’*.

Either way, considering we know it is possible to sustain good health on a vegan diet, do you think the potential diet of our evolutionary ancestors is relevant to our modern moral choices?

I’m glad you asked— no. At one point in my book I discuss the common argument that it must be okay for us to eat meat because cavemen did it. I ask why this is considered a valid response given that it is never used in any other scenario. For instance, with respect to science, to education, to how we treat our friends and relatives, no one ever says, “We should do it this way, because that’s how cavemen did it.” The whole notion of “progress”— whether you believe we are achieving it or not, or as most of us think, that we are achieving it in some respects but not others— rests on the desire to improve upon what cavemen did. In all other areas of life, we seek to do things “better”— more efficiently, more healthfully, etc. — than our ancestors, and yet time and time again those who oppose veganism claim that the mere fact that cavemen weren’t vegan proves that we shouldn’t be.

I think it’s also worth noting that new data suggests “cavemen”, or at least Neanderthals, were not as carnivorous as we have been led to believe*. They ate whatever was available, and so a lot of that depended on their geographic region. Some ate fewer vegetables not because humans are “supposed” to eat meat exclusively but because vegetables and/or fruits were scarce where they were. Similarly, they did not eat meat because they “had” to (and, thus, we also “have” to) but because plant availability was so scarce that eating plants alone would not have yielded enough calories to sustain them. This problem persists to this day in some regions, and so increasing plant-based food availability in harsh climates remains an imperative for the Animal Liberation Movement.

You devote a chapter to discussing animal testing and I was interested and excited to read about some of the advances made in non-animal models such as the ‘organs-on-a-chip’*. I agree wholeheartedly with your assertion that animal advocates should educate themselves on the advances in this arena so that, when faced with the question ‘if we can’t experiment on animals then how will we advance medical science?’ we have coherent and hopeful answers.

I think we also need a degree of humility when debating medical scientists who are motivated by a concern for human well being which I think statements like ‘(animal testing) cannot tell us anything of value’* undermine. Isn’t the moral case for not exploiting animals strong enough without having to deny the advances that animal testing has contributed to?*

Forgive me, perhaps I did not make this clear enough, but I never meant to assert that animal testing has never told us anything of value— rather, my point is that it can no longer tell us anything of value that these alternatives can’t also tell us. I relied on the research of scientists such as Dr. Aysha Ahktar, and much of what I say about the failure of animal testing to accurately tell us how humans will react in certain scenarios comes from her work. I imagine I will receive the same sorts of critiques about this as she has received, but at bottom, there just isn’t any reason to continue torturing animals for science— even if you believe that, once upon a time, such behavior was justified. (I personally don’t, but that’s a matter of ethics, not fact. Even if someone were to prove for a fact that animal testing was necessary, say, 100 years ago, that still does nothing to prove that it has any inherent value right now.)

This is something I’ve come to understand not only through research, but also via personal encounters with folks who actually worked in animal testing. Almira Tanner, an animal liberationist with Direct Action Everywhere- Vancouver, was once a vivisectionist and writes beautiful about the topic. * Michael Slusher, author of the upcoming book They All Had Eyes: Confessions of a Vivisectionist, spent years torturing small animals for a living. These people saw, up close and personal, what happens in these labs, and for what purpose, and they and many others like them had both the courage and the scientific know-how to leave with confidence — to walk away from this horrific system knowing that in doing so, they were not hindering scientific progress one iota.

I’d also like to note that institutions such as Harvard, Yale, and Stanford universities have all eschewed animal testing years ago. I can’t imagine any of these renowned institutions would voluntarily give up a practice that is necessary for scientific advancement. Former National Institute of Health Director Elias Zerhouni did not mince words on the subject of animal testing: “We all drank the Kool Aid on that one, myself included.”

For me, it really is that simple. In short, the proof is in the plant-based pudding. I know animal testing isn’t necessary because others have already eschewed it and continue to make scientific progress every day.

I agree that we are moving towards a kind of non-animal medical testing that will be more efficient and effective. I’m encouraged by work of charities such as the Dr Hadwen Trust (see our interview with Dr. Kay Miller, Head of Operations) in this area. Although I’m far from an expert, I suspect that there are medical advances still being made using animal testing today in areas where non-animal models are not yet available. I am comfortable saying that while animal testing has lead to some amazing breakthroughs and still may contribute to medical science, I object to it on moral grounds. I am always wary of ‘truths’ that conform to our agenda too well and ‘animal testing is wrong AND it doesn’t work anyway’ seems suspiciously convenient to me.

It does seem suspicious, but I agree that independent of whether one believes it yielded advances or may even still yield advances, it is ultimately unethical. I also have the utmost faith that in any remaining areas where a substitute has not yet been found, it will be, because enough people in the medical field and other related fields are committed to finding these very solutions.

As well as being an advocate for animals you are clearly very conscious of other social justice issues and in your book you suggest some of the ways you see these causes as being interlinked. I am not fully convinced by some of the arguments for intersectionality particularly those you raise around feminism. In the book, you say:

“Feminists purport to be fighting for equality among the sexes and condemn sexual exploitation of women in various forms - including rape. What some fail to realise is that every time they drink a glass of milk… they are financing and visually demonstrating their support of raping cows, goats and other non-human animals”

Feminists are concerned with the equal rights of women. To suggest that the word ‘women’ does or should encompass non-human females and then demand feminists go vegan to be consistent is tempting but seems unreasonable. Can you explain this example and intersectionality more broadly and demonstrate why you think it is important in the animal rights movement?

The thing is, while forms or branches of feminism abound, and don’t always agree on everything, one thread of thought that seems to be woven within the fabrics of all feminist theories is that women have the right to bodily autonomy. Feminists are outspoken against rape and “rape-culture”— which I understand to mean a culture in which rape is, while not outright promoted, nevertheless subtly excused or permitted via persistent messaging that women are lesser beings than men, that women may be “objectified” to suit the pleasures of men.

This is one primary reason I think feminists need to get behind veganism— so as to respect the autonomy of bovine women and protect them from rape

Similarly, bovine women —female cows— are objectified for the pleasures of those who consume dairy products. They are repeatedly impregnated so that they can lactate, and in factory farming facilities, the machine used to impregnate them is literally called a Rape Rack. That’s not an activist term— that’s the industry term! So there is an open confession on a daily basis in these facilities that what is happening to the cows is rape, by referring to the machine in this manner.

This is one primary reason I think feminists need to get behind veganism: so as to respect the autonomy of bovine women and protect them from rape.

The second reason is that once the bovine produces a child, that child is taken away from her within one-two days, never to be seen again. This is kidnapping, plain and simple. The YouTube video ‘The Real Price of Dairy’* makes this plain. Many feminists (though some more than others) campaign for the rights of women and children simultaneously. This kidnapping not only negatively affects the mother but also the resultant child, who, if female, will likely grow up to be raped on a daily basis herself and, if male, will be either raised for beef or fed while tied up for just a few weeks or months before he is murdered and sold as veal.

Finally, it strikes me as ethically inconsistent to say, on the one hand, that human men do not have the right to abuse or sexually assault human women and, on the other hand, support the “rights” of human men and women to commit these same offenses against cows and other lactating animals. The power structure in play is the same, and we cannot hope to effectively combat or dismantle one of these power structures while the other remains unchanged.

I am fully behind your project to encourage feminists to become vegan, and I see how drawing analogies between issues that concern feminists and issues that concern vegans is a useful way to get them thinking about animal issues. What I find unsettling about these sort of arguments is that advocates don’t say ‘what we do to female cows is like rape’ but ‘female cows are raped’. I think that’s a subtle but important distinction. What happens to female cows is uniquely horrific and morally objectionable, but I don’t think it is necessary to represent it as the same offence that feminists already abhore to get our point across.

You said it strikes you as ethically inconsistent to be concerned about the rights of human women and not the rights of female animals, I don’t see this as an inconsistency. If your ethics are centred around human rights, then non-humans are outwith your ethical boundaries. I think it is important to convince people to widen their sphere of concern rather than attempting to demonstrate that their existing sphere already contains animals.

Well, I think a lot of people agree with this — and not just with respect to animal rights. Women of color often feel excluded from the feminist community, for instance, because feminism doesn’t concern itself outright (or, some would say, at all) with race. We often hear that in the US, women are paid 77 cents for every dollar a man is paid for doing the same job* (just recently, some have reported it to be 78 cents). What we don’t hear is that the numbers for women of color are far worse* — for black women it’s 64 cents; for Hispanic women, such as myself, it’s 54 cents. This is why an intersectional approach, in my opinion, is necessary— by which I mean that we should not consider social justice issues in a vacuum but rather consistently examine their overlap in order to understand them fully and, thus, to successfully combat injustice.

For further reading regarding intersectionality between animal rights and feminism, I would highly recommend the article “5 Reasons For Why Animal Rights Are a Feminist Issue” by Aph Ko (written with the help of Syl Ko)*. The article is on a blog called Everyday Feminism, which I highly recommend anyone interested in modern feminist debates follow!

This article on The Scavenger* also does a good job of breaking down the issue, I think.

PMF: There’s a fundamental division within vegan philosophy between, on the one hand, advocates who argue veganism is a strategy for the reduction of suffering (a well-known example is the writer Peter Singer*) and are sometimes called utilitarians.

On the other hand some advocates argue that veganism is a response to the fundamental ‘rights’ of animals that prescribe a set of rules about how we should treat them (a well known example is the writer Tom Regan*). They can be thought of as deontological.

Is there a moral or philosophical reason why one of these approaches is better or more useful than the other? Is there a better way of thinking about vegan advocacy?

RJ: So, here we are at the basic moral philosophies again: utilitarian and fundamental rights. As explained earlier, both of these approaches are problematic: one claims that individuals ‘simply deserve’ rights and the other claims that suffering ‘simply is’ what morality should be concerned with. The ‘simply is’ in each case is nothing more than an assumption. Neither, in a rational sense, is more accurate than the other as it is the same positing of an ‘assumption’ as a legitimate rational truth. The world doesn’t work this way.

This isn’t to say Singer, Regan or anyone else who has subscribed to these assumptive types of theories can provide us with nothing. They can still provide useful arguments and/or evidence which we can use within a sounder framework. Regan and Singer had valuable back-and-forths in the 80’s (valuable to me in my academic ivory tower, anyway), whilst providing some useful intellectual arguments about the basic subject of animal exploitation. Whilst Francione’s legal knowledge has given us a great deal in terms of analysing things like welfare regulation, or even the exact legal evidence of why certain welfare regulation changes were not positive for the animals. Animal rights philosophers and writers have provided a great deal, without having previously championed a rational view of ethics.

As to whether one of them is more useful than the other? Not necessarily, no. They each have provided useful aspects to further our understanding. Neither is a solid framework for making further decisions. In my personal opinion, I’ve often theorised that Singer’s theory is better by virtue that he is at least aiming toward reality by trying to inflate the important, very real experience of suffering. However I always remind myself that he’s still making that same meta-physical assumption that it’s intuitively right that suffering is the most important thing. A better way of thinking about vegan advocacy is simply exposing your opinions to reality and evidence, rather than trying to fit your dilemmas into a philosophical, yet rationally sparse, theory.

If you are using the dollar or any other fiat currency you are helping to finance animal exploitation and suffering… Do you really want your money to contribute to bankrolling that slaughter?

Cryptocurrencies are complex (though far less complex than the banking system) and I won’t attempt to explain how they work in much detail here. Briefly, a cryptocurrency is a secure, digital form of money that isn’t issued or controlled by a central authority*. Funds are in the direct control of their owners, and can’t be confiscated or transferred without consent. Money is stored in digital wallets (which are vaguely analogous to bank accounts) and ownership of these wallets is completely anonymous. Funds can be sent almost instantly to anyone in the world for a nominal fee (the amount varies, but it’s generally tiny fractions of a penny). No registration is required, and no personal details need to provided at any time. You can think of cryptocurrency as digital cash. It’s fungible, nearly untraceable, and you can loose it if you’re not careful.

There are many, many cryptocurrencies aside from bitcoin*. The value and utility these currencies (sometimes called ‘altcoins’ to distinguish them from bitcoin) vary dramatically, as does their seriousness*. And now there’s a vegan altcoin called Voin. We caught up with its creator, Sextain, to find out how a currency relates to veganism.

PMF: Hello Sextain! What is Voin, and how did you become involved in cryptocurrency?

Sextain: Voin is short for VeggieCoin. It is a currency designed to incentivize veganism. Voin cannot be used for purchasing products that involve the exploitation of animals including dairy and eggs. It is a clone of bitcoin with a few tweaks to make it vegan.

There is already a Vegan Coin, so the name Veggie was used instead of Vegan. Vegan Coin is no longer in circulation but it seemed better to use a different name.

I’ve been interested in cryptocurrencies and cybercurrencies for a while — in part to try to find a convenient way to make internet payments.

I first learned about bitcoin and cryptocurrencies from listening to the financial journalist Max Keiser. Even though I’m a Luddite and a technophobe at heart, Max waxed so lyrical that I decided it was worth checking out. The technology is brilliant. This is clearly where the future of money lies. The entire functionality of the banking system can be implemented using a relatively simple open source algorithm. The fact that it is open source is significant. Open source is more reliable and secure although it used now mainly by big companies.

My only complaint with bitcoin is that there is no ethical component to it. People in the cryptocurrency space are libertarians mainly, followers of an Ayn Rand type philosophy. They have no interest in animal rights, the environment, health, or any of these kind of issues. Also the huge fortunes that were made by early adopters of bitcoin have had the unfortunate effect of attracting large numbers of people hoping to get rich quick. Cryptocurrencies are the new gold rush. A world where bitcoin were king wouldn’t be much different to the world we have now.

This is why we need to create a vegan currency. Currency is more than a medium of exchange. It’s a great source of power and animal advocates need to recognize this is a new frontier for activism.

PMF: Some exponents of cryptocurrency don’t see it as a replacement to fiat currency, so much as a natural compliment. Several cryptocurrencies were designed with specific tasks in mind. (For example, Auroracoin is specifically intended for use in Iceland; Ethereum was designed to power smart contracts; mining CureCoin contributes to medical research in the form of protein folding, etc). What are the goals or intended uses of Voin, and where do you see it fitting in?

Sextain: Voin can be used for buying or selling anything that does not exploit animals. Its aims accord with Donald Watson’s when he created the original Vegan movement. Ultimately it will be a way of crowdfunding vegan projects.

Voin could be used for monetizing web content as an alternative to adsense, which is not vegan. Its very difficult to get people to pay for content, but if the fee was sufficiently small, maybe they would be willing to do so. Micropayments are very easy with Voin.

Voin could be used in social media as a way of rewarding people. People do this a lot in the cryptocurrency world. If someone has helped you debug your program you send them some bitcoin. If someone has been helpful in giving you some information, such as a vegan recipe for example, you could send them a few Voin.

Another use might be buying and selling fruit and vegetables and seeds. Some organic farmers already use bitcoin as a way of selling their produce directly to customers without fees and middlemen. In some countries bank regulations are massive and can stop people starting small businesses. In developing countries the middlemen take almost all the profits. The farmers make virtually nothing.

Voin might also be considered an investment. Holding Voin is equivalent to going long on veganism. It is the equivalent of a vegan electronic funds transfer.

PMF: Why not just use bitcoin?

Sextain: The bitcoin protocol works best when the currency has a small number of users. Once a cryptocurrency gets too big it becomes unmanageable and difficult to use.

Bitcoin stores every transaction in an encrypted ‘blockchain’, and this blockchain is distributed to everyone on the network. The blockchain quickly grows in size. bitcoin itself is already too big. The blockchain is now 40 GB. It would take at least a week to download it. Using it totally locks up your PC. It has grown by 20 GB in the last year. Soon it will be yottabytes! Even a supercomputer would be unable to process it.

Imagine there was only one web page in the whole of the internet, and to access the web you needed to load this page. It would take forever to load and be difficult to find the information you need. It makes no sense. This is what having one cryptocurrency would be like.

The only practical way for most people to use bitcoin at the moment is through third party services but this is risky as users of Mt Gox will testify. These companies need some form of oversight by regulators but this totally defeats the object of a cryptocurrency, as it would no longer be a decentralized open source currency. You are back to square one.

The only reason to have a single monolithic currency is to reduce currency conversion costs. But as there are no transaction costs in switching between cryptocurrencies and it can be done instantly so there is no reason not to have as many currencies as are needed. The more the merrier.

Fiat currencies will go the way of the dodo. You cannot stand in the way of progress for ever. A system where banks can effectively create as much money as they want and lend it to whoever they want is not sustainable. With Voin the money supply is limited to 3,203,357,613 coins. That is the maximum number of coins that can ever be created. (If you want to know why that number was chosen convert it to hex*). Voin is open source and transparent. In terms of securing your deposit, it is actually safer than fiat money.

PMF: Historically, currencies have been freely exchanged between social groups as much as possible. Voin is different. It insulates wealth within a very specific social sphere (that of veganism and vegan causes) and creates a sort of ethically-driven micro-economy. If Voin were very successful, how do you think it would affect the cause of veganism and its public perception? More importantly, how effective do you think it would be in furthering vegan aims?

Sextain: If Voin were successful it has the potential to totally transform veganism. It would create the investment capital to enable vegan businesses to compete with the meat industry so instead of 1% of the population being vegan it might be more like 30% or 60% or 80%. The real competitive advantage that companies like McDonalds and KFC have is their access to cheap credit, rather than that their food tastes so good. A vegan currency would change all that.

To have capitalism you need capital. To have vegan capitalism you need vegan capital. There are many vegans eager to start vegan businesses. They have passion and commitment. What they lack is capital. Currency is the biggest capital market in the world. Its bigger than the stock, bond and commodity markets all put together. Its massive. If even a tiny fraction of this was diverted into a vegan currency (or currencies) it would be create a source of investment capital that would enable an ethical micro-economy to take root and flourish. Money rules the world. Creating your own money is one way to be sure you have enough to make a difference.

A compassionate economy would create a compassionate society. Instead of rewarding people for their ability to work the system, as the current system does, people would be rewarded for their moral worth.

PMF: I have an early release of the client software, which is compiled for Windows only. Do you plan on releasing Voin-branded client and node applications for other platforms, and will the project be open source?

Sextain: Voin is currently only available on Windows and Linux. It needs Windows 7 or above. The project will be released on other platforms and it will also be open source. The only reason for the delay is that there are only so many hours in a day. It will be uploaded to github shortly. The main focus on my efforts from now on is going to be to document the code and instructions on how to build it as fully as possible. I want Voin to be the best documented cryptocurrency out there, so others can build on what I’ve done.

I also want it to be a template for others to create niche vegan currencies. You could have a rational vegan coin, a raw vegan coin, a fruitarian coin, a rawtill4 coin and so forth. If I have a complaint with bitcoin it is that it’s very difficult to understand how the code works. I shall go through as much of it as I have time for and explain how each procedure works. Ultimately I am hoping to attract some fellow vegans much cleverer and more knowledgeable than myself willing to work on the project and make it a reality. And if anyone wants to create an alternative vegan currency I am more than happy to help in any way I can.

PMF: I’ve restricted myself to one technical question for the sake of the reader. Voin is derived from bitcoin, and presumably shares the same SHA-256 hash algorithm implementation. Given the hardware arms race in the bitoin world and the enormously high mining difficulty of that network, there are hardcore professional miners out there with incredible hardware that’s no longer efficacious for mining bitcoin. Are you concerned that some non-vegan crypto-golddiggers might quickly dominate the network? Do you have a strategy for getting Voins into the hands of people who want them, and no one else?

Sextain: The main problem with controlling access to a cryptocurrency using the bitcoin protocol is that it allows multiple public addresses.

With bitcoin it’s possible to use a different public address for each transaction – and some people do so for additional privacy. However, it’s not really necessary as there is no way to connect the private key of the sender to the public address.

The reason bitcoin has multiple addresses is to prevent an outsider from finding a pattern of purchases from one address. Given that the main use of bitcoin currently is in the black market this is maybe useful. However for a vegan coin it’s hard to see why this would be important.

Once you remove multiple public addresses there are a number of ways to stop unauthorized access to the network. You could build up a database of undesirable addresses and block connections to the network from those addresses using a Bayesian filter similar to a spam filter. If necessary you could create a bot that spiders the web looking for rogue addresses. Another possibility might be to model Voin on a club where members introduce new members through making transactions with them. There are a number of possibilities. I doubt it would be a problem.

PMF: Finally, the Voin elevator pitch. You’re going down in an elevator with someone who you know is vegan. They seem nice. You got on at the 30th floor, and when the doors open at the bottom you probably won’t see them again. They’ve told you that they have a cursory grasp of cryptocurrency, and they’re generally interested in the idea. There are twenty-nine floors left now, time is ticking. How do you tell them what Voin is and why they should care before you reach the lobby?

Sextain: If you are using the dollar or any other fiat currency you are helping to finance animal exploitation and suffering. If you deposit money into a bank they don’t just put it into a safe. They lend out your money to anyone who can pay the interest on the loan and that includes slaughterhouses and factory farms, fur farms and vivisection labs. And because of the way the banking system work a multiple of your actual deposit is created to add to their capital reserves. Without this system of banking the industries that exploit animals wouldn’t exist.

If you don’t like the idea of your money being used to:

• Grind up baby chicks alive
• Boil chickens alive
• Tear new born calves from their mothers and put them into veal crates
• Keep pigs in cages so small they cannot move
• Skin animals alive in fur farms
• Torture animals to death in pointless scientific experiments

then you have to use a vegan currency, and at the moment Voin is the only choice. 50 billion animals are killed every year in conditions of unimaginable cruelty. Do you really want your money to contribute to bankrolling that slaughter? If not, use Voin and insist that others do the same. Demand that Voin be included as a payment option.