Animal Writings

I was most recently thinking about this at my parents' house a few days ago. I explained to my parents that I could—or rather, was willing to—eat the Smart Balance Lite margarine but not the regular Smart Balance, because the latter has whey in it.

My parents are quite supportive and knowledgeable about veganism even though neither of them are vegan. But I'm sure to them my Smart Balance rule was rather arcane, even though they knew why I did it and, I'll bet, could quite persuasively defend my reasoning.

But looking at two tubs of margarine evokes no emotional response. Even to me, though I know in my heart there is deep significance to my choice, at the surface it feels like a technical matter.

It is what led up to that one ingredient—whey—that is the issue. The suffering, the mutilations without painkillers, the horrific transport, the violence in the slaughterhouse. The wailing of mother cows who had their babies stolen from them, the pain of mastitis infections from being forced to produce too much milk, the writhing in agony of improperly stunned cows having their sides ripped open, the pregnant lactating dairy cows bleeding to death on meathooks. The utter wrongness of harming and killing animals for pleasure.

It is, unfortunately, too easy to flip open a tub of margarine that contains whey and spread some on toast. The horror and misery is totally concealed. In fact, to most people it is non-existent, out of consciousness. "Whey" in the middle of a long list of ingredients is—to the average consumer— minutiae, not a moral imperative. Therein lies the challenge to the vegan activist.

If I pointed a gun to a cow's head and said "Don't use that type of margarine or I'll shoot this cow dead, and then shoot her calf dead," the vast majority of non-vegans would refrain from using the margarine in question, and would use another brand if they knew it would save the cow. In fact, they would in all likelihood be horrified by the potential consequences of using the wrong margarine.

But when those same people see the whey-containing margarine in the refrigerator—even if they know about cruelties and suffering on commercial dairy farms—their decision to use the margarine has nothing to do with cows, or with animals. It is just a food, a spread. They are not making a conscious effort to push unpleasant images out of their minds; those images don't appear. This makes vegan advocacy more difficult.

Granted, there are many exceptions—for instance, some non-vegans hunt or boil lobsters—but for the most part, when non-vegans eat products that contain animal-derived ingredients, the animal, and the cruelty and death imposed on the animal, are out of sight, out of mind.

I'm not defending this thought process, but I can easily understand how it happens, and I mention it in hope that activists will take it into account when doing outreach. I don't have any definitive recommendations, much less solutions, to offer. But strategies that come to mind include:

• Focusing on the animals and what's done to them, rather than the food product;


• Acknowledging explicitly that deciding to eat one food instead of another based on an animal-derived ingredient may seem like a hassle at first, but is in actuality a profound and consequential moral choice;


• Helping people know about and find vegan alternatives to non-vegan foods whenever possible;


• Perhaps spending a bigger chunk of our vegan outreach time on trying to persuade and help people to reduce their consumption of "primary" animal-derived products such as beef, chicken, milk, and cheese.

Labels: advocacy, psychology

I'm all for sharing tasty vegan creations with non-vegans as a form of gentle activism; it can really change skeptics' opinions about vegan food. It sort of completes the circle: You may tell someone about the horrors of factory farms and the moral wrongness of killing sentient beings for pleasure. In your outreach, you may even address how people cling to eating habits and fear any large-scale change in their diets, especially one which may generate criticism from family and peers. But unless the person to whom you're advocating veganism is confident that a vegan diet is tasty and satisfying, he or she may stick to familiar, well-known, comfortable eating patterns. Wonderful dishes from your vegan kitchen may shatter others' preconceptions that vegan food is bland and boring or lacking in variety or substance.

By the same token, I totally support lending out vegan recipe books and pointing people to vegan recipes on the Net. Cooking vegan food is fun on the surface and meaningful deep down: You create tasty meals and to the fullest extent possible refrain from participating in violence. Vegan dishes also tend to be "green." Vegan meals are peaceful and deeply satisfying. And diverse: If inclined, you could cook something substantially different for every meal.

But what about folks who don't cook much, either because they don't like to or because they don't have time? While your fancy dish may impress them, and even convince them that vegan food can be delicious and filling, if they're not ever going to make it or anything like it, some of the value of the outreach is lost. It doesn't do too much good to lend a vegan cookbook to a non-cook, either.

I know a lot of people who rarely cook, whose dinner choices typically rotate among microwaved frozen meals, carry-out, sandwiches, super-easy staples like pasta with a jar of sauce, and cereal. Their cookbooks sit on the shelf. It's important that we address this constituency, too.

So --

• Share no-brainer vegan sandwiches made from easy-to-find ingredients that expand your friends' and colleagues' vegan food opportunities. For example, if you like a certain flavor of Tofurky deli slices, make a couple of sandwiches from that, Veganaise, mustard, lettuce, and tomato. Bring them into work, eat one yourself, and give the other to your co-worker. Explain that the sandwich took five minutes to make and that everything in it is available at almost any grocery store. Don't use items that are hard to find or only sold in specialty shops or through mail-order.
  
  One of my favorite quickie vegan meals to show people is SmartLife Smart BBQ on a bun, perhaps with a slice of red onion and/or tomato. The product tastes great and couldn't be simpler to prepare: You tear open the foil pouch and nuke it for a minute and a half in the microwave. It's rich and flavorful, and the texture is very barbecue-like—just the right amount of chewiness. For an instant food, it's not even that high in salt. Excellent for a weekday dinner or office lunch.
  
  Granted, although vegan deli meats tend to be healthier than their animal-derived counterparts, they're not health foods. I always try to mention that; I don't want to give the impression that faux meats are on the same plane with fruits, vegetables, legumes, and whole grains. They're vegan convenience foods.


• If you work in a place with a shared refrigerator, you can bring in some Silk creamer and put a note on it saying anyone can use it. It's a fairly easy sell; it tastes way better than the usual office "non-dairy" creamer (which probably contains casein anyway and thus is not really non-dairy).


• You can be popular by picking up bagels and Toffuti "Better Than Cream Cheese" on your way into work and putting them in the kitchen, possibly with a note saying "Help yourself to bagels!" One rule of workplaces seems to be: If there is free food available, it will get eaten.


• Just a few of the many other almost-instant vegan lunch/dinners you can share: Store-bought veggie chili over a baked potato, BLTs with lightly toasted fake bacon bits (tastier than you think), spaghetti with a jar of sauce and veggie hamburger crumbles that you heat up together in the microwave, lentils and rice topped with Earth Balance and soy sauce (one of the cheapest meals you can make).


• Let interested people know about vegan frozen waffles and "accidentally vegan" off-the-shelf desserts like Oreos and (some) graham crackers.


• Purely Decadent non-dairy ice cream. People should know about this. Tofutti Cuties are not too bad, either. (Try the peanut butter flavor.)


• Invite a friend over to your place, order some delivery pizza sans cheese, and if you want, add a little vegan Parmesan to the pizza after it arrives. Order from a place that you know won't mess up your "no cheese" request. (Tip that works for me: I order extra sauce. Another tip: Expressing appreciation to the pizza place for putting together a vegan pizza.)


• Take a friend or office-mate to a vegan-friendly restaurant in the area that you know is good. Feel free to make suggestions or order more than you know you'll both eat, so your dinner companion can sample various dishes and take home the leftovers.

Yes, this is all rather pedestrian (except for the restaurant option). There won't be any pretty pictures of these foods in cookbooks or gourmet food blogs. But most of the people I know—especially the non-vegans—more or less eat this way and no change is in sight. We have to meet people on their home turf. The harried office worker and parent, the "Lean Cuisine" crowd -- we're talking huge numbers of people, and they deserve our attention, too. They don't have the time or inclination to be chopping vegetables or greasing a casserole dish and putting it in the oven after a long, hard day. Instead, they open the freezer door and look for something instant, or stop at the takeout place on the way home. Cookbooks and recipes with more than half a dozen ingredients or that take more than a half hour will be ignored—no matter how scrumptious the result.

Rule of thumb: Only share stuff with skeptics or the uninitiated that you think is delicious. Since many non-vegans are predisposed to think that vegan food is lacking in taste or is otherwise unfulfilling, the last thing you want to do is give them reason to confirm their suspicions. Granted, this is a generalization and there are many exceptions to the rule. For example, if you've already opened a colleague's eyes to the glory of vegan food and he or she has long since dropped misconceptions about vegan diets, it's okay to take chances and bring in something that he or she might not like. Another example of an exception to the "delicious" rule would be an agreed-upon taste test of various veggie sandwich meats over, say, a month's time. You and the testers know beforehand that there's likely to be a range in flavor and desirability. (Actually, I like the taste-test technique; it generates participation in the process, enables others to make their own choices, and to some degree conveys the variety of vegan food choices.)

Labels: advocacy, cooking, food

On the morning of November 7, I attended a momentous, long-awaited, and deeply appreciated ceremony in the Canon House Office Building, not far from the U.S. Capitol. Members of Congress, founder Michael Mountain and other staff of Best Friends Animal Society, representatives from many different religious faiths, and supporters who wanted to be part of this event all came together to call on faith-based institutions to include animals in their moral sphere and to substantially change how they deal with animal issues.

The religious representatives issued a proclamation challenging religions to promote and practice kindness to animals instead of excusing and partaking in cruelty. It was a moment to behold and a day for rejoicing.

As I told my wife, this is what going to church should be like—joining hearts and spirits to embrace compassion for all of God's creatures (including fellow humans), to express our joyous thanks for living among such magnificent beauty, and to reaffirm our humble gratitude for being given the opportunity to serve the goodness of Creation, particularly the wondrous and precious animals who share our planet and our lives.

As a vegan, of course the proclamation does not go far enough. It does not unambiguously press people to cease all forms of animal exploitation. It does not directly say "Stop eating them."

But as a citizen and animal advocate, I am overjoyed. Some of the words I heard from the pulpit, as it were, caused me to break into spontaneous applause. It was just so wonderful and refreshing to hear these sentiments from members of the clergy—and of Congress.

[Best Friends has indicated that it will post transcripts and videos of the various speeches on their web site in the near future. In the meantime, I hope the quotes in the rest of the post are accurate; I tried to write them down exactly as I heard them. As soon as the speeches are online, I'll correct any mistakes.]

Representative Christopher Shays, co-author of the Pet Evacuation and Transportation Standards (PETS) Act of 2005 (which was signed into law in 2006) said that animals have been devalued to mere "units of economic production." It was amazing—per se—to hear a high-ranking elected Federal Government official utter words that could have come right out of an animal rights advocacy book.

He also said, when speaking of factory farms, that "global warming isn't the only inconvenient truth." Hear, hear.

Representative Betty Sutton told the crowd: "Cruelty to animals, in all its forms, is morally wrong." Is she a vegetarian? I doubt it. But at least she's saying the right things, and that's a start. Rep. Sutton has also introduced the Dog Fighting Prohibition Act, which will make it easier to prosecute and hopefully eradicate dogfighting. For one thing, it will make attending a dogfight a punishable offense. How's about we introduce similar bills for rodeos—another "tradition" that needs to be retired?

Michael Bruner, director of Best Friends’ outreach to religious organizations, said "Our addiction to oil is nothing compared to our addiction to meat." Powerful.

But he topped that by a mile with: "Animals are the environment."

Right on. How many times have I heard so-called environmentalists support—or engage in—hunting and fishing? The animals and fish they stalk, frighten, pursue, wound, cripple, and kill are the most important part of the environment. They're the sentient component of the environment, that truly feels the effects of humans, on an individualized, experiential, direct basis. They're the part of the environment that looks back at us; that suffers and feels joy, that has interests.

How about this: "As an evangelical Christian, I'm supposed to care about animals primarily for how they taste."

What a slam against the institution of which he's a part. As far as I'm concerned, that's more radical than Martin Luther's complaints. It's an indictment of virtually every denomination.

And then: "Says who? Not the bible. Not Jesus." In other words, the Church is acting in violation of God.

Rabbi Robin Nafshi had these profound words: "The highest wisdom is kindness." Think about it.

I was so riveted by Reverend Steve Keplinger's speech, I couldn't bear to miss one word by making notes. I urge everyone to read or watch his speech. I'll post the links once they become available.

One of his main points was that early in Christianity, the religion lost touch with God the omnipresent spirit who is in everything, and replaced Him with God who is "out there," apart from nature, and that this caused us to be estranged from the rest of Creation. He said that we "must be the impetus" for a "gigantic shift" in Christianity's view of animals and nature, and that there is "nothing more important that we will ever do."

His presentation was impassioned and stirring.

In one sense, the reading of the Proclamation itself was anti-climatic, because I already knew what it said. But then I realized, as it was being read, and as religious leaders—and in my eyes, they are leaders—one by one signed the historic document, that I may have been witnessing the beginning of a sea change in humanity's worldview. It dawned on me, as this procession unfolded, that if the world's religions can join forces with the already-established yet still nascent animal protection / animal rights movement, a truly more peaceful and just world is in sight.

The signers of the document, and other people involved in the creation of the proclamation, pledged to spread their message internationally, and to re-convene in 18 months in Washington, DC. I'll be there, and I hope many of you will be, also.

As I was telling a non-vegetarian but interested friend a few nights ago, imagine a world in which our descendants proclaim "In the dark past we had slavery, the Holocaust, and factory farms. We wiped out the Indians and other native peoples. We hunted species to extinction. We gathered for events in which animals were abused for the fun of it. We exploited, maimed, tortured, and killed the weaker and more vulnerable simply because we could. And it was horrible. And now we don't do that any more, and it's wonderful. The animals used to live in fear and dread of us. Now, to the fullest extent possible, they live in harmony and friendship with us. Things are finally right, and peaceful."

On Wednesday morning in the Canon Caucus Room it was possible to imagine that.

---

It was fabulous to meet Sue Gresham, the driving force behind EpiscoVeg.com, one of my favorite sites on the Internet over the years. She has an excellent write-up of the event, which covers things I didn't even think about, and has some very nice photos and side stories.

It was also my distinct honor and pleasure to meet Jan Fredricks, founder of God's Creatures Ministry, a faith-based, non-profit organization "with a mission for all animals to be treated by people with kindness. We promote compassion, respect and protection of all sentient creatures..." Check out this page. Ms. Fredricks also chairs the Catholic Concern for Animals (CCfA) in the United States. CCfA publishes a remarkable magazine called The Ark. I'll be featuring excerpts from The Ark in upcoming posts.

Unexpected bonus: Sue introduced to me to Weston Cook, a Franciscan who has written elegant pieces that convey compassion not only for animals but for those with differing views, like this: Response to a letter in the Franciscan Times. Mr. Cook, another local activist, and I rode the Metro together, and he shared some of his wisdom and experiences.

Labels: advocacy, Best Friends, epsicoveg, friends, God's creatures ministry, religion

Today's guest post—the first on Animal Writings—is by Kim Herman, a DC-area vegan and independent—and very active—activist.


[Gary here.] I agree with all of Kim's main points. Most of the activists I meet did not have a life-long desire to be hold signs and pass out literature and then chose veganism as their area. Activism was thrust upon them. They were compelled to speak on behalf of the billions of animals who are abused, killed, and tortured every year—mostly out of sight, mostly legally, mostly to feed the habits and indulgences of a complacent and willing public. They were stirred to plead the animals' case, for the animal victims are dependent on human advocates to bring an end to their human-caused suffering.

The situation is maddening in a way. The public has the means to end most forms of institutionalized animal exploitation right now—with virtually no time or cost investment. All people have to do is stop buying the products of animal cruelty, and buy vegan products instead. Buy the veggie ham slices instead of the ham slices from a killed pig. Use soy, rice, almond or oat milk in cereal. Order vegetarian dishes at restaurants. It's so simple. Yet the public stubbornly hangs onto to its cruel ways. They foist horrors on animals—daily—yet can't bear to think about it. The solution is tantalyzingly close yet so far away.

The key is activism—individuals driven by a sense of justice, compassion, and urgency who take time from their busy lives to interact with the public and act on behalf of animals with all the adroitness, persuasiveness, stamina, and powers of inspiration they can muster. I am thankful for each and every animal activist; they are changing the world for the better, making it a more kind and just place.

But to echo Kim's challenge question: How do we get more reluctant activists? Kim or I or both of us may write a follow-up piece that looks into that. In the meantime, what are your thoughts?

Labels: activism, advocacy

Faith Leaders Gather For Retreat At Best Friends!

The opening quote of the above article gives me hope:


So does this one:


And this one:


The attendees, which included representatives of the Christian, Jewish, and Muslim religions, may have shared optimism of the will and the optimism of their faith, but they weren't shying away from the "pessimism of the intellect:"


Paul Berry, executive director of Best Friends, expressed gratitude and offered a challenge:


Amen.

Labels: advocacy, Best Friends, religion

Does your refraining from arson make a dent in the overall arson rate?

Labels: advocacy, excuses

The most commonly cited risks of asking someone to, for example, buy only cage-free eggs are:

• The person being advocated to may think that going cage-free is enough.


• The advocate may miss an opportunity to explain the cruelties of virtually all cage-free operations.


• The advocate may miss an opportunity to convey the basic moral wrongness of creating animals to kill them, or of using animals as resources, etc.


• The person may not consider the source of eggs in baked goods and other products made with eggs.


• The advocate may miss an opportunity to talk about alternatives to eggs, as well as the deep joy of a diet that's as cruelty-free and non-violent as possible.


• The person may have reduced his or her egg intake had the advocate gone with an all-vegan message.

In one-on-one activism, anyway, I think it's easy to overcome all these risks. That is not to say that promoting welfare adjustments is necessarily the way to go. But there may be a tendency to talk about the risks of cage-free messages et al in worst-case terms. And the risks may be largely avoidable.

BTW, for ease of writing, I use cage-free as sort of a stand-in for any welfare improvement.

I've asked people to go cage-free, although it's been a while. When I did that, though, I covered all the bases. I didn't leave anyone with the impression that cage free was sufficient. I let them know about the cruelties inherent in egg production and in simply seeing the hen as a vehicle. I talked about egg alternatives and even shared delicious vegan baked goods. And so forth. They knew the facts and I believe understood the moral arguments.

But the sad fact is, people do things that they know are wrong. Sometimes for decades at a time.

And that, I think is why individual advocates as well as groups try to get people to make incremental changes in their behavior—changes that people will actually do. The second incremental change may be no more threatening or difficult than the first. And so on. But all of them together might might seem preposterous or impossible to people. I wish it weren't so, but it is. Granted, there are exceptions—overnight conversions. But those are the exceptions. (Although maybe we should study those more; maybe we can learn something from them.)

Now if an vegan advocate is going to make a welfare pitch, as part of an overall plan to move a person, and eventually the whole world to veganism and beyond, I think the way in which they make the pitch can make all the difference. Of course, they shouldn't say, "Only buy cage-free eggs and you'll be cool." They should not give the impression that merely reducing cruelty is enough. They should let it be known that there are inherent cruelties and moral transgressions in harming and killing animals for pleasure. They should be steadfast—but in a caring, respectful way—in conveying the principles of veganism: compassion, respect for all sentient life, commitment to non-violence, obligations to refrain from inflicting avoidable harm, and so forth. (This is not a comprehensive list.)

I think this is easy to do.

Now, this phrasing isn't quite right but...I like to take people as far as I can take them. This is a much better than average case, but if it looks like they're eager to start eliminating eggs from their diet right off the bat, why would I ask them to go cage-free? And how will I know if they're interested in eliminating eggs unless I try my best—through education, moral arguments, sharing vegan food, and anything else that comes to mind—to sell, inspire, and persuade them to go that route?

But, as I mentioned before, some people will understand everything you're telling them and yet cling to their ways. You'll try every angle and they don't budge. Or worse yet, they reject you and tune you out. Again, these behaviors seem to me to be like addictions, coupled with lots of fears—conscious and subconscious: of change in general, of being malnourished, of going against one's family, of being "different," of losing one's identity.

These situations are what make advocates consider welfare measures. Asking people to go cage-free, and then subsequently asking them to only buy eggs from small local farms where the hens all have outdoor time and grass, and so on. (This "subsequently" part is key, IMHO, and has not been well-articulated by groups pursuing an incremental welfare strategy; I'll talk about that more in an upcoming post.) The idea is that people for whom eating animal products is so deeply embedded in their daily lives that it's almost like breathing will not be threatened by small changes, and that as more and more people make these changes and minimum accepted welfare standards increase, producers' costs will rise, alternatives will become more cost-effective and more readily accepted, and so forth. All the while, pure vegan activism is going on, also: Activists are asking for vegan products in stores, schools, company cafeterias, and other institutions; handing out literature; holding potlucks; tabling at festivals and events; and so forth. I think this is an essential part of the movement.

Again, I'm not saying welfare pitches are the way to go. Neither am I ruling them out. I would suggest, however, that incremental welfare strategies, when done by vegans, are not the result of capitulation or diminished end goals. They're the result of frustration and an attempt to move things along.

If that is the case, if a vegan animal advocate asks a highly resistant omnivore to buy only cage-free eggs, it should have this effect: "I care so deeply about the animals who are abused and killed for their eggs, it pains me that this exploitation continues, I know in the deepest most profound way that it is wrong and must end, and my obligation to the animals is so strong that if I cannot get you to stop eating eggs, I am compelled to do whatever I can in the interim, as I would want an advocate to do for me were I the victim. Of course, I will continue to push for the complete eradication of animal exploitation, so that we can finally have a peaceful and just world for all sentient creatures."

In other words, a plea for someone to reduce the cruelty of their deeply entrenched habit that they're not going to quit any time soon should come across as highly principled, a means to reduce suffering as much as possible until the horrible killing process ends, an unrelenting desire to do as much as possible for the victims, an impassioned act of caring. It should be seen as one's sincere, earnest, and best effort within the context of vegan advocacy. There shouldn't be any ambiguity or mixed message, and I think this easy to achieve.

At least on a personal level. It may be harder for an organization to convey these sentiments and principles to the masses. But I think it's doable. I could be wrong, but I think one can very broadly extrapolate one-on-one activism techniques to the group and mass communications level.

Do groups that promote welfare improvements convey these sentiments and principles? It varies. In this series, I'm not planning on doing a report card, or critiquing individual groups that employ welfare messages, but I may have some general suggestions and challenge questions for improving the welfare message in upcoming posts. I also plan to discuss what I think are the strongest arguments, from my point of view, for increased all-vegan advocacy.

In the meantime, however, another real-world problem. I welcome your thoughts and advice on this.


I've been trying for about a year to get a local coffee house to add one or more vegan products to its lineup. I don't go there every day, maybe once a week. I like the place and it's close by. I get along well with the owner, and I've talked to her on a number of occasions about everything vegan—animal agriculture, ethics, non-dairy ice cream, eggless baked goods, the marketplace, you name it. I've brought in samples, I've given her brochures, I've called up vendors and asked about distribution, and so forth. As best I can tell, the owner understands the issues pretty well. She occasionally expresses guilt, but basically she won't budge. She (reflexively?) sometimes does the "I don't want to hear about it" response, complete with the raised hand / outward palm gesture. And yes, she understands why she does this and I'll bet at this point she could do a very good job of articulating my position on why she should hear about it. She may cling to the status quo for all the usual reasons, plus I sense she fears her business will suffer if she tries anything vegan. She's tried some soy milks at home and so far she days she doesn't like any of them. She occasionally eats Boca Burgers. That's about the extent of it. (Yes, I've mentioned rice, almond, and oat milk.)

If I keep up my activism, maybe in a year she'll add a non-dairy ice cream or vegan soup. I don't know. I figure friendly, respectful, judiciously applied outreach never hurts, and it comes kind of naturally, and I'm a regular customer anyway, so I'll keep it up. FYI, sometimes we chat about other stuff and animal issues never come up.

The thing is, I think I could get her to switch to cage-free eggs as an interim measure. That's my gut feel from talking to her. I think I can do this without incurring any of the downsides that are often attributed to such moves. I'm confident that she won't become complacent (especially with me as a recurring customer) or be under the false impression that cage-free equals cruelty-free, or that I'm softening my stance, or anything like that. I really don't think this would have any effect on my other outreach; I don't see it pushing back the eventual target; it may be a toe-in-the-water type thing for her.

As has happened with with other establishments (according to their statements in the press), I suspect that one side effect of her buying cage-free eggs would be that she would buy fewer eggs because cage-free eggs are more expensive, and that may be an incentive to look more closely at and/or ramp up non-egg menu items. Although the motivation in that case would be financial rather than ethical, in my experience, once people partially divest themselves from animal products for any reason, it makes it easier for further incremental steps.

So, if I can persuade her to switch to a less cruel form of eggs, without incurring any of the risks often associated with such a move, and it doesn't impact my vegan activism, why would I not do it?

I'm interested in your thoughts. I know this is "duh" but since we discuss what-ifs so often online, just as a reminder: This is a real, not theoretical situation. This is current outreach and real animals will be affected, possibly soon.

Granted, there is some controversy over whether cage-free is less cruel. You may want to respond in two ways: a) assuming it is, b) not assuming it is. As best I can tell, hens would much rather spread their wings and walk on solid ground than walk on wires in a permanently cramped position. But I also realize that factors like density and access to the outdoors make a difference in quality of life in cageless environments, so to the extent I can, if I do this, I'll try to gently guide any purchasing decisions toward the less cruel end of the cage-free spectrum.

Thanks for reading and helping animals.

Labels: activism, advocacy, cage-free, welfare

Two weeks ago, while volunteering at the chicken, turkey, and rabbit barn for the Poplar Spring Animal Sanctuary annual fundraiser, I encountered a steady stream of free-ranger visitors. Many of them asked "What about free-range?" Some told me that they only buy cage-free eggs. All were very receptive when I told them the truth about free-range, cage-free, and so forth. None really challenged me. None were obstinate. In some cases, it seemed as though the person asking about free range practically wanted to hear that it was no solution, as if they knew that what they were doing was still wrong, and this was a safe (if not authoritative) setting in which to be set straight.

I stress that most of the time, the free-rangers did not say "Everything's fine; I only buy free range," and if they did say something to that effect, they seemed satisfied when I explained the littany of cruelties that free-range did not address. Then, time and circumstances permitting, I let them know about some easy and tasty non-animal-derived alternatives; it's important to leave people with a doable solution.

No doubt, having the animals there helped. The refugees and escapees from the system that treats them as expendable resources and kills them are a poignant and powerful reminder of one's complicity in that system. Perhaps the free-rangers sensed the futility of uttering "But I only buy free range" while looking into the eyes of these animals.

For more reasons than I can enumerate, and possibly discern, I highly recommend both visiting a farmed animal sanctuary and bringing people there. I find (and apparently many others find) that there is a magnificence to such places, despite their bittersweetness. The animals have all been subject to cruelty. Most have been the victim of bodily mutilations that affect their every motion. Some have gone through prolonged misery and barely escaped death. Who knows what emotional and psychological scars they carry.

And yet, in these peaceful refuges, the animals become restored. And so do we, I would argue. To see the magic in these animals' eyes, to witness their vibrancy and their ability to seek out and enjoy simple pleasures like a warm sunbath or the companionship of an old friend or a new acquaintance, is rejuvenating and restorative.

For meat-eaters, as well as lacto-ovo vegetarians, a visit to the animal sanctuary can be transformative. There is something about meeting the animals, seeing them close-up, watching them purposefully going about their days and expressing their personalities, that is not possible to convey in words or brochures, or even in a video. When I took my mother to visit Poplar Spring she had already reduced her consumption of chicken and turkey a little bit (and was doing the free-range thing). We spent a lot of time at the chicken and turkey barn, seeing all these intelligent and unique individuals being themselves, being happy. After the visit, my mom quit eating chicken and turkey. That was two years ago.

Labels: advocacy, animal sanctuaries, free range

I forgot to mention in my last post that I had a great time at the "Becoming the Change" conference in North Carolina. I heard a lot of inspiring, knowledgeable, and articulate speakers; hung out with old friends and met new friends and people with whom I'd previously communicated only online; ate delicious food; and had late night vegan cupcakes, beer, and pizza with a spirited and diverse bunch of animal activists. I'll post some random and deeper thoughts about the conference down the road.

So, to continue from where I was before the conference, I want to talk a little about the messages we should articulate to the general public, particularly those who are at the free-range/cage-free stage, and particularly when coming from national groups who have the power to garner media exposure. Unfortunately (or not), I'm so time-sliced and behind on everything I'll have to split this up into a bunch of mini-posts. And, as always, everything is IMHO.

At the risk of seeming like I am perpetually delaying getting to the bottom line, I want to talk a little more about national groups' current means of conveying animal issues—particularly farmed animal issues—to the public. Well, on second thought, let me talk a little about the bottom line—the end goal. What are we working towards, ultimately? (Really, what is the purpose of life—when you get right down to it.)

I eventually want a society in which veganism is not only mainstream but seen as a priori, so commonplace and agreed-upon that to not be vegan seems preposterously, self-evidently wrong. I want animal agriculture and the practice of eating animals to seem like a nightmare from the dark ages.

But that's not nearly enough. I want a society in which all our interactions with sentient beings, from the hawk patrolling the skies to the earthworm digging in the soil, from the mammoth elephant to the tiny vole, from the most remote deep-sea creature to our familiar next-door neighbor, are based on kindness, respect, compassion, and a deep feeling of empathy and communion. Where rights and legal protections for animals are agreed upon (except for details) and understood yet superfluous.

Why not aim high?

I tend to focus mostly on the so-called "developed" parts of the world, since that is the milieu with which I'm most familiar and experience on a daily basis. Obviously there are pervasive problems and constraints, such as recurring famine and war, that need to be overcome in many areas of the human-inhabited portion of the globe. Nevertheless, I think the revolution in our treatment of animals, which will include veganism, will eventually be worldwide.

Everything is a step toward that ideal vision.

Which brings us back to the present.

As I mentioned before, I'm not too worried about people being stuck at the free-range/cage-free stage. Repeatedly, the most die-hard meat-eaters I come across—the ones who express the least sympathy for farmed animals and the strongest allegiance to omnivorism and who are the most dismissive of vegetarianism—are not even interested in making the smallest step on behalf of farmed animals. (But never say never; sometimes the most ardent defenders of meat become vegan; perhaps they redirect their viewpoint-defending efforts.) Therefore, I think that just about anything we do to move people past this stasis is worthwhile and commendable.

Yes, there are those who use "But they're treated well" as a poorly thought out and essentially selfish excuse for continuing to eat animal flesh and excretions. There are many things wrong with this attempted justification. For one thing, the animals are not treated well. Secondly, killing an animal just to get at his flesh is wrong, and creating an animal for that purpose is deeply anti-compassion; it is a flagrant devaluation, disrespect, and violation of the animals' interests. And so on.

But people use a myriad of excuses to perpetuate their meat-eating ways. They're emotionally vested in eating meat and naturally they're going to defend it, at least for a while. Talking people out of an activity from which they derive great and frequent physical and psychic pleasure, and that they may associate with family, heritage, and comfort is bound to trigger all manner of defense mechanisms.

Variations of the free-range excuse are just one type of manifestation of those defenses. They're probably a stage; a not-unexpected initial reaction from people who are deeply locked into a meat/dairy/egg/animal product lifestyle and have been since babyhood, and who inherited that lifestyle from their parents and loved ones. Before they can see the bigger picture, and see themselves and their behaviors from an objective third-party perspective, and grasp the fundamental wrongness of creating animals just to exploit and kill them, and break free of decades of brainwashing and confidently accept that one does not need animal products to be healthy or to have a diverse and satisfying diet, they will make amendments that seem doable and non-threatening, such as buying cage-free eggs.

Of course, I'm generalizing. A small percentage of meat-eaters go vegan almost instantly—though I'd argue that in the vast majority of those cases, ideas had been percolating for months if not years before the conversion. Other folks cling to their meat-eating ways for life and won't budge, for any number of reasons.

But most people with whom I talk understand basic concepts like suffering, and want to reduce suffering, and have little problem articulating that, and are willing to quite readily make small steps.

Of course we don't stop there, and we don't want to give false pretenses that going cage-free is enough, and so forth. More on that later (and in a thousand blog posts across the net on that subject).

In the next post, a recent example of how free-rangers are not locked into position, as well as a slight diversion: A plug for farmed animal sanctuaries and their role in animal activism.

Labels: advocacy, bottom line, conference, free range

In the last post, I talked about these awesome vegan cupcakes now being offered in my area — by Natalia's Elegant Creations. And I'm telling you, they have been amazing. The peanut butter-chocolate cupcakes were...wow, I can't even describe them—they were just perfect!

So here's the thing.

The cupcakes—to my delight—are clearly labeled "Vegan." Here's my question: What if that turns some people off? Do we stay the course, say it loud and say it proud? Even if a percentage of customers think "Ew. Vegan. That's not for me?" You know how some people can be. They refuse a vegan dish, or convince themselves that they don't like it, even if they've had it before and loved it and then found out afterwards that it's vegan! (And yet they think nothing of eating a hot dog.)

So here we have a possible real-world, consequential example of the tension between being bold and straightforward about veganism and getting people to change their behavior.

What if more non-vegans try the vegan cupcakes and go "Yum!" and then "Wow—this is vegan? I never knew..." if we downplay the vegan-ness of the cupcakes? Like instead of labeling the cupcakes "Vegan Red Velvet Cupcakes" the label would say "Red Velvet Cupcakes" on the first line and underneath it would say "(Vegan)?" Or should we leave off the "Vegan" if too many people shy away from the cupcakes because of irrational fears about the V-word, and instead have a little sign on the counter that says "Ask about our vegan selections"? Or should the labels say "Dairy-free" instead of "Vegan?"

Granted, there are some caveats in this particular scenario. It's not like the choice is between offering vegan cupcakes and offering cupcakes with organic, locally produced dairy products. Also, the bakery owner will decide how to label the cupcakes; the best we can do is make polite suggestions.

But you can see how this is a microcosm of a bigger issue. Do we make "vegan" more mainstream by using the word and pushing the concept as much as possible, or do we try to formulate a message to which the most people will respond most quickly and then build on that? Would we be willing to pay the price of having some people do nothing in hope that by being direct we'll get a payoff soon enough, and presuming that some initial "no thank you"'s and irrational refusals are the price we—or rather the animals—have to pay for greater public acceptance and behavior changes—and thus reduction in animal suffering and animal exploitation—down the road?

I am leaning a certain way. But I'm interested in your thoughts. And, by the way, I'm happy to have this particular "problem."

Labels: advocacy, cupcakes, food, message

Sorry about the lack of posting lately (if anyone cares). I'm multitasking frantically and behind in everything. Even this interlude, which was going to be one relatively short post, has to chopped up into multiple mini ones.

With that out of the way, let me give a major shout-out to Natalia's Elegant Creations, a new bakery in Falls Church, Virginia. The bakery just this past weekend added vegan cupcakes to their menu! I could be wrong but this may be only the second bakery in Northern Virginia to include intentionally vegan confections as part of its offerings. What's more, the vegan choices are prominently placed and labeled "Vegan" — be still my beating heart!

Bonus: The cupcakes so far have been variations of selections from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, by Isa Chandra Moskowitz. Even better, Natalia, the owner and head baker, has put her own spin on the recipes...so she's taking a great thing and multiplying it by inventing variations.

The cupcakes have been out of this world. They are moist and delectable, with flavors both subtle and bursting. The frosting and toppings are mouth-watering, sinfully delicious.

If this works out, there are tentative plans to try other vegan sweets, such as cookies and brownies. Sweet!

So everybody in the country (*), come on down to Falls Church for cupcakes at Natalia's Elegant Creations. The bakery also delivers to many locations in the metro area — and does custom orders. (Click on the "How to Order" button on their site for more info).

This exciting new development isn't mentioned on the bakery's web site yet, but I imagine it will be soon. Oh, one more bonus: The ambiance is very nice also; refined but not stuffy, classy but comfortable. The artwork and decor are pretty much exactly what you'd want as you relax with a vegan "Red Velvet" cupcake (to die for) and a coffee drink.

[Coming up (time permitting): A real-world "word problem" that relates to vegan cupcakes and more broadly to optimizing the vegan message to the public. I'll also take some pictures of these awesome goodies and post them here.]

Labels: advocacy, vegan cupcakes

I've often heard this: We could get people to go vegan more quickly if we could just improve the message.

I agree with the concept, but the devil's in the details.

There are limits to the effectiveness of even the most brilliantly articulated message. I know people—and you probably do, too—who have heard the message countless times, know about the horrors in animal agriculture, are familiar with vegan foods, and feel guilty about eating meat and other animal products. These folks have been heavily advocated to over years, and have access to a wealth of resources and information. Yet they are still miles from veganism.

Perhaps no social justice movement has ever tried to eradicate a behavior that is so thoroughly steeped in almost every member of society. Nearly everyone eats animal products from the time they quit weaning until the day they die. Asking people to stop eating meat, dairy, and eggs sounds to them like they're being asked to quit breathing. They are socially, emotionally, and perhaps partly physically addicted to eating animal products, and they are overwhelmed with subtle and blatant enticements to consume them. Never before has something so destructive and cruel been so heavily promoted.

In addition, this may be the first liberation movement in which none of the victims or members of the victimized groups are fluent in the spoken language of their oppressors, or of the people who can help the victims. Yes, of course the animals convey their suffering with a ferocity, and their despair is heartbreakingly obvious. But they cannot stage a protest in front of the Capitol; they cannot stand on street corners and demand justice; they cannot arrange a press conference to protest their mistreatment and exploitation. They are more out of sight and out of mind than any victim group in history.

That's not to say we shouldn't wrack our brains and consider every conceivable idea and summon our creativity to make the "Go vegan" message as compelling as possible. This fundamental and fairly straightforward message has some formidable advantages going for it:

• It draws on basic morals that virtually everyone shares and holds dear.


• Each vegan is living proof that it can be done, and that going vegan can reap great emotional and in some cases spiritual rewards.


• Technology has made transition to veganism fairly easy for most people, psychological barriers notwithstanding, and it will only get easier as the number of people advancing toward veg*anism increases.


• Going vegan probably saves people money in most cases, though this merely icing on the cake.

Now, is "Go vegan" in all its variations always a more productive message than, say, "Reduce your consumption of meat, dairy, and eggs, and in the meantime learn how these products are produced and buy the least cruel forms of them as possible?" The former gets to the bottom line (well the real bottom line might be a society filled with compassion in which veganism is only a part, albeit a major part, but that's another post), but what if it turns off people because they think "Vegan—that's too hard" and those same people find the "reduce" message more approachable? I know we don't like to think about this but we can't base our strategy on a wish that people proceed in a more more rational manner than they actually do. It is conceivable that what may be championed as refusal to compromise in terms of message results in a compromise in terms of effectiveness. Maybe the "reduce and refine" technique gets a greater number of people off to a start, and primes them for a more comprehensive, fundamental "Why not drop all the animal products" follow-through down the road. There's some psychology at play. It's not just a question of laying out the facts, even the morals, and watching people respond. Often individuals will make a series of small changes in their lives but shy away from something that seems radical and threatening.

Which brings us to incrementalism.

Pretty much all vegan activists agree that the vast majority of individuals who will advance toward veganism will do so in stages. Some activists maintain that the only legitimate type of progress—the only sort of progression that works—is dropping non-vegan foods one at a time or one meal at a time. For sure, dropping an animal product from the menu is significant; it gets one used to not having animal products and probably stimulates the exploration of alternatives. But perhaps a more natural course of action is to gradually refuse to participate in certain cruelties, starting with the most heinous ones. A lifetime meat-eater may realize almost instantly that it's dreadfully wrong to force hens into an area smaller than a sheet of notebook paper or to confine several-hundred pound pigs into a two-foot wide crate. The pain and suffering in those situations is so severe one can practically feel it in their bodies sympathetically, just from seeing a picture. So the meat-eater makes some amendments to his or her diet, starting with the ones that from his or her perspective yield the most bang for the buck—buying free-range/cage free animal products, which is a fairly easy move but takes some horrific tortures of the table.

As the "free-rangers" — as I call omnivores in this stage — learn about more cruelties and expand their notion of "It's wrong to make others suffer for my 'pleasure'" to "It's wrong to make violate others' interests for my benefit," and learn more about vegan alternatives in their diet, and become more comfortable with modifying their diets for ethical reasons, they increase the restrictions on what they will buy, or, looked at another way, they find more and more practices objectionable.

But in reality it's more complicated than this. As I mentioned in a previous post, I think the ethical impetus for reducing consumption of animal products and for abstaining from the cruelest forms of animal products (at least from the perspective of the evolving consumer) is basically the same: An emerging feeling that we should not interfere with animals' interests if it can be avoided. (Perhaps this is accompanied by greater knowledge and appreciation of those interests, and thus of the animals who have them.) So people, driven by newfound guilt but also still addicted and locked into a meat/dairy/egg-centric diet try veggie sausages but put it on their cheese-laden pizza and make a deal with their consciences that hey, they used to order extra cheese and now they're not so it's cool. They buy cage-free eggs and tell themselves that the hens from this company really do have decent lives—surely the company wouldn't be allowed to show hens in wide-open pastures if that weren't the case. They don't quite believe it, but they tell themselves anyway as a superficial palliative. They stumble and play games with themselves and make halfway measures and weird rationalizations. They give into pressure and join their co-workers in meat fajitas ("just this once and at least it's from a place that has free-range meat") or accept the burger that the host puts on their plate ("I don't want to hurt his feelings—but I'll eat lots of veggies so I'll be too full for another burger"), and so on.

So how do we—and organizations specifically—influence these people, help them stay on track and prevent them from stalemating or lapsing? (Sometimes people make great strides toward veganism at first, then seem to slack off and get re-absorbed into the meat-infatuated society in which they live. This may occur more frequently with college students, who dive into veganism as a statement against society but lose their support structure and yield to workplace pressures after they graduate.)

I think the "go vegan" message as well as the "reduce and refine" message have gotten better in recent years, and can and will continue to improve. Various web sites have tips on effective street advocacy. COK commercials are well-produced and pack a remarkable amount of punch in a 30-second spot. Videos get better and more diverse. Cookbooks and vegan food web sites—OMG. Experience at creating vegan delicacies and hitherto un-veganizable dishes has really advanced, giving a shot in the arm to culinary activism. HSUS, not generally considered a cutting edge animal rights organization, and which barely promoted or practiced vegetarianism until a few years ago, now has slick ads in mainstream environmental magazines recommending that people reduce their meat, dairy, and egg intake. The United Nations reports that diet has a bigger global warming impact than transportation. It's getting easier to find "vegan" on product packaging in mainstream grocery stores. Most coffee shops offer soy versions of all their milk drinks. Many regions have guides to veg-friendly restaurants. The availability, variety, and sophistication of advocacy resources of all sorts is growing by leaps and bounds.

Something's working. You can see it and feel it. "Vegan" is much more understood and common than it was even three years ago. Among young people especially, veg*anism is no longer fringe, and is moving slowly but surely toward mainstream. Sales and types of plant-based meat and dairy substitutes continue to climb. I have to believe that in the vast majority of cases, when someone buys veggie bacon—which tastes, looks, and feels like bacon—they're buying it instead of animal bacon; the amount of meat that would have been eaten decreases. Same for veggie lunch meats, veggie burgers, veggie chicken patties, veggie barbecue, and so forth. They're all designed and marketed to be replacements for their respective animal-based counterparts. It's mostly the same deal with soy milk, soy creamer, non-dairy cream, eggless mayonnaise, and almost any other "faux" product.

Lots of activists attribute the successes to their favorite types of advocacy and blame the shortfalls on their least favorite forms of advocacy. But perhaps it is the blend of techniques, in which each activist speaks from his or her own perspective and experiences, that works best, that resonates with the greatest number of people.

Note: I've had this post sitting around for 5 days, waiting to be completed. I haven't gotten to my conclusion, but rather than delay that even more, let me post what I've got, and continue this meandering train of thought in the next post. But, as a lead-in, to be continued...Given that in my own experience, free-rangers seem receptive to vegan outreach, and given that veganism in general, by almost any measure, seems to be more accepted and less of an alien concept to the general population these days, will people necessarily run away in droves if organizations step up the "vegan" part of their advocacy?

Also, FYI, the posts in this series are not intended to be the authoritative prescription for the animal movement, just my thoughts, based on my experiences, submitted for your consideration.

Labels: activism, advocacy, improving the message, incrementalism, vegan outreach

[I've been pretty much out of the blogosphere for the last several days. I hope visitors and fellow bloggers are in good spirits and doing well, in addition to doing good.]

This is a continuation of the post from Sept. 3rd. Here are some observations and evolving conclusions and generalities I've made from the free-rangers with whom I've come into contact over the last few years; they're in no particular order:

I find that similar considerations motivate a person to go from no-range to free range (or cage to cage-free), and to try vegetarian alternatives. Ethically, the most common driving force is an awareness that existentially and morally (as opposed to legally), animals are not mere property, like a piece of furniture; that animals have non-trivial interests and therefore we have an obligation to try to let them pursue their interests.

Granted, buying cage-free eggs may be largely a rather convenient feel-better measure in many cases, but it is the need to feel better, and the feeling bad that would result if the individual didn't take some pro-animal action that we can capitalize on, and that gives me hope. In other words, the "feeling better" results from doing something good for the animals, or at least being under the impression that one is doing so.

"Feeling better" is not inherently a bad thing. One could say that I "feel better" because I'm vegan or that I became vegan to feel better. But to have any grasp of my ethical veganism would require understanding why I feel better since becoming vegan, and why feeling better is only a byproduct of doing what one feels is right and just and compassionate.

Buying free-range of course is only a small step, yet it may be significant if it is the first step in changing one's diet for the sake of animals, because step 1 may represent breaking out of a stasis that may have gone on for decades. Momentum is important.

At the risk of repeating myself, if people make small yet deliberate sacrifices on behalf of animals because they feel it is wrong not to make those sacrifices, that is a sign that they care at least somewhat, that they have some interspecies sympathy, that they have started to see animals as subjects not objects; it indicates that they grasp that we should take action to avoid being cruel to animals. Once they have begun to develop that moral principle, there is a chance that they will feel compelled to make changes in their lives in order to heed that moral principle. So if we point out, for example, that going cage-free does nothing to alleviate the brutal slaughter of newborn male chicks at hen hatcheries, their already (if embryonic) established sense of obligation to opt out of avoidable animal cruelty may spur them to take further action — like exploring egg alternatives and reducing egg consumption — to avoid violating the profound interests of animals. Where there is a will there is a way, and going from "whatever" to buying cage-free may represent a nascent will that we can cultivate and that can grow in strength and breadth.

I find most often that when free-rangers say "it's okay, I'm buying free-range," they are not really all that confident, and they are not expressing a complacent, "that's all I need to do" mindset, but rather engaging in a bargain with their conscience and an effort to convince themselves that everything's all right with their behavior. Time and again, I discover that just under the superficial declaration that "free-range makes eating meat okay," there is persistent, mounting, unnerving skepticism and doubt, and an admission of denial. It is usually not hard to get the free-ranger to express these conflicting, conscience-against-habit-and-ethical-laziness-and-fear-of-self-incrimination-and-fear-of-more-required-change worries and misgivings. They may have only opened up one eye a tiny crack, but they're no longer fully asleep at the wheel. They've seen a glimpse, they know just a little too much; if they are at all analytical, curious, ethical, or self-critical, they have some implicit, maybe subconscious knowledge that the cruelties to farmed animals are more than the confinement methods, even though they may not yet be questioning the fundamental morality of eating animals, or creating animals to destroy them — for human pleasure.

And we should strive to get them to ask those sorts of questions, because doing so opens all sorts of doors that may eventually lead to veganism and a vastly revamped—and kinder—lifestyle. I will talk about that in the next post or two.

Labels: advocacy, cage-free, free range, free-range, incrementalism, reform

This post is an update to an earlier post: To the Woman in the Coffee House Who Says "Oops, You Caught Me" When She's Eating Eggs and Sees Me:.

We kept running into each other at the coffee house. Sometimes she'd ask me a question about diet or animals. I notice often that people, when they first start considering farmed animals' interests and feel the initial pangs of disquieting internal conflict, seem more comfortable with asking a vegan what he/she thinks about various vegan-related issues rather than articulating their opinions on the matters outright. Perhaps it's too painful and immediate to ask themselves these questions, and asking the vegan is sort of a proxy for asking themselves. So I would tell her what I thought, and then I'd ask how she felt about it. And that made her think. And it gave me a chance to see where her head was at.

She asked some fairly classic questions: "Egg-Beaters, though — they aren't real eggs, right?" "Aren't some cows treated nicely? I see them on the side of the road and they seem happy." Every question is an opportunity for outreach and education, and getting people to think critically, perhaps for the first time, about the morality of their choices.

Of course, she asked what I thought about the Michael Vick case.

She would still do the guilt thing "Um, there's milk in this...sorry" but I sensed that slowly she was apologizing to herself, maybe even to the cow a little bit, not so much to me.

As the advocacy progressed, I discovered and/or became more comfortable with a few techniques that I think I'm going to use more frequently in the future:

• I advise people that it's really much easier to drop eggs, dairy, or meat — whatever we're talking about — from their diet than to seek out the least cruel version of the stuff, which may be hard to find and cost a lot, and still won't solve the moral problem of unnecessarily killing and mutilating animals. Plus, now that they're grasping the wrongness and cruelty of animal products, no matter where they buy the products they're going to have to play games to try and fool their consciences, and there's always a price to pay for that.


• I ask people why it's so important to eat hens' eggs but not robins' eggs or the eggs from any other bird — to illustrate that what seems normal and maybe even necessary is really arbitrary, and to show how taking a birds' eggs from her seems rather mean if you're not acculturated to doing so.


• I let people know that I'm no diferent than them. I used to eat meat all the time, and I enjoyed it. I don't have superhuman discipline. I'm not into self-denial. I love eating; I won't settle for a bland diet. I like tasty stuff with interesting flavors; I like fat and crunchiness and crispness and chewiness and richness, and spices. I just reached the point where I knew harming animals for pleasure was wrong. My diet caught up to my morals.


• Often people won't read a book that you lend them (possibly due to lack of time), but they will thumb through a magazine. I lent this person a copy of The Animals Voice magazine, which is very attractively put together and is filled with great articles. I know she read at least some of the articles, and they seem to have made an impact.

Today, as I was getting my soy latte (in a reusable mug!), my friend was in there. She had ordered soy milk with her drink. She said, "I'm going to try and go the whole day without any dairy. This will be new to me." She added, "I know it's not much."

Are you kidding? It's huge.

Labels: advocacy, dairy, food

If you're vegan or involved in animal advocacy, your experience may be similar to mine: It seems like all my non-vegan friends, relatives, and co-workers want to know my take on the Michael Vick case.

They are, to a person, appalled at the hideous and callous cruelties inflicted on the dogs who lived — and who were killed — on Mr. Vick's property. Usually they condemn dogfighting and indicate that they think it should be outlawed.

I thank the person with whom I'm talking for his or her concern for animal welfare, and typically express my thought that the silver lining in all this is that it is making people aware of a widespread heinous practice, and that hopefully this new awareness will translate into stronger anti-dogfighting and anti-animal cruelty legislation and enforcement.

But then I let them know that:

• Tortures on a par with or much worse than those inflicted on Michael Vick’s dogs happen every day – every hour – at slaughterhouses.


• For the most part...Unlike the cruelties that occurred on Michael Vick’s property, the suffering and slaughter of farm animals is a direct result of our purchasing decisions, and we have the power to undo all those wrongs by buying vegan alternatives instead — and it’s not that hard, and there’s plenty of support and guidance available, including from me. (At this point I may hand out some vegetarian literature if it feels right — I try to keep some handy at all times.)

The Vick tragedy, awful as it is, provides us with an opportunity to ask the rhetorical question: Ethically, what is the difference between a dog and a pig?

Why do people detest dogfighting but eat pigs and chicken? Here are three reasons:

1. There is no conflict of interest when condemning dogfighting. People (in the West) don’t eat dogs or knowingly wear their skin. There is no implied self-incrimination when meat-eaters—sincerely—condemn dogfighting.


2. Tens of millions of households have dogs as family members.


3. People are conditioned to think of pigs and chickens (and cows and so forth) as "food animals." Eating meat seems as natural as breathing to most people. And humans are frighteningly good at compartmentalizing, for example pushing thoughts about the suffering and killing of farmed animals out of their minds.

I’m not defending any of the above reasoning, but I think it's important that we understand the psychology of meat-eating so that we may become more adept at wresting people away from this cruel and destructive addiction.

One last thing: Although there is some circumstantial evidence that looks like it may implicate Michael Vick, he has not yet had his day in court. I try to focus on the issue, not the person, as I think this will a) better convey that the Vick incident is not an isolated case, b) avoid getting us sidetracked on "Is he guilty?"

Labels: advocacy, dogfighting, dogs, farmed animals

When we explain to people the immense suffering inherent in almost all animal agriculture — from genetically engineered hyper-fast growth to killing newborn chicks to separating two-day old calves and their mothers to gestation crates to brutal "cullings" to grueling day-and-a-half truck rides at the end of animals' short lives to horrific tortures in the slaughter line — they often are left with helpless, numbing despair. Which is appropriate — what we do to animals every day is almost beyond belief, beyond our capacity to fathom.

That's why it's ultra-important to give people a way out, to empower them by showing how their individual actions can undo the institutionalized oppression, mutilation, commodification, and mass-slaughter of animals. Specifically, we can help others' transition to veganism be as smooth as possible by doing our best to ensure that vegan food is plentiful and widely available, by giving non-vegans ample opportunities to sample delicious food made without animal products, and by engaging in the types of food-related advocacy described in this informative and entertaining article by chef extraordinaire Isa Chandra Moskowitz: Vegan Culinary Activism in 10 Yummy Steps, which appears in the final issue of Satya magazine (RIP).

As Isa illustrates, culinary activism can be not only satisfying and easy but downright joyful.

Labels: activism, advocacy, food

Although campus cafeterias are offering more vegan options these days than they did a generation ago, or even 10 years ago, there is still a long way to go. The encouraging news is that when tasty vegan main courses, desserts, and other dishes are added to cafeteria menus, typically students in general—not just vegans—avail themselves of these animal-friendly, usually healthy selections.

PETA has put together a concise yet quite complete online guide on how to get your school cafeteria to increase its frequency and diversity of vegan options. The guide discusses planning, resources, meeting objections, generating student and administration support, even researching potential suppliers. It stresses the benefits of working within the system but also provides tips on how to kick the campaign up a notch, e.g., through peaceful demonstrations and petitions, if the university is dragging its heels. Finally, it wisely advises activists to express thanks and appreciation to the school for any positive changes it makes. Not all institutional change has to be done through adversarial means; it may cost far less in terms of time, energy, and exasperation to bring about incremental progress through persuasion rather than coercion. But it's good to have a backup plan.

Click here to read a summary of Berkeley students' success at adding some very excellent-sounding vegan dishes to their cafeteria's daily menus. Then click on the link near the end of that short article for a more comprehensive guide to veganizing college cafeterias.

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I'm currently trying to persuade some local coffee houses and bakeries to offer a wider selection of vegan choices to their customers (including me!). It's interesting; one has to look at the situation as much as possible from the viewpoint of the small business owner, and not only anticipate their concerns — economic and otherwise — but be able to present workable solutions. I'll try and report on progress, and what I think I did wrong and right, down the road.

Labels: advocacy, food

I'd like to interrupt the previous post—which I'm still working on even though my heart is not into it like it was when I first thought of it, but which I will finish! Even if it's at the rate of one sentence per day.

Here's one short excerpt—and the highlight of my night—from a conversation I had with my 13-year old niece earlier this evening:

Her: So when it says "free-range," does that really mean the animals get to run around?

Me: Well, tell me, what do you think?

Her: Umm...no.

That was beautiful. And it was another example of what I wrote about a few posts ago: Way more often than not, I find out that people are not really fooled by "free-range." They sort of hope it's true, and perhaps talk themselves into believing it, and probably shove the darker thoughts out of their minds—for the usual reasons—but they are not fully buying it.

There is a skepticism taking hold of consumers about the food they buy, and maybe this has been fueled by finding out that food producers have hid the ugly truth about battery cages and pig gestation crates for all these years, or by reading stories on massive pollution from industrial farms, or genetically modified organisms and fish genes in tomatoes, and cloning, and bird flu and mad cow disease, and e coli; and exposes on fur mislabeling scams and the Chinese killing dogs and cats for fur coats. And maybe it's just the accumulation of every animal activist spreading the word, from Compassion Over Killing feed-ins to PETA2 and myspace pages, to animal sanctuary "fun runs" and visitor events, to good-tasting vegan foods in stores, to protests in front of the National Zoo when their arthritis-stricken elephant in her tiny quarters died prematurely, to humane education programs in shelters, to one-on-one vegan outreach, and everything else.

Despite meat and dairy's persistent popularity, I can understand why those industries and other various animal exploitation industries are worried about animal protection groups—all animal protection groups—and the animal rights movement in general. One by one, animal abuses that were accepted without question 15 years ago, or even a few years ago are now being questioned, doubted, evaluated, and in some cases, outright rejected—not just by a pocket of voters but by increasingly wide cross-sections of the populace.

The beginning of the end is not necessarily dramatic. It's a million small increments in scattered places. No, the country is not on the brink of veganism, but I have a definite sense that they are not as wedded to meat as they were 5 years ago, not to mention when I was growing up and there was no thing as vegan cheese and vegan meatballs, when there was no such thing as vegetarian main course alternatives in school cafeterias, when almost none of the animal protection and animal rights groups today existed.

We're doing something right and I hope we keep pushing forward, and I hope more and more people are inspired to join us in protests and leafleting and writing letters and sharing vegan food, and I hope the movement—and despite factions in the movement, from outside it is one movement—swells and person-by-person becomes the conventional wisdom. And every now and then, we animal activists need to acknowledge that there are changes happening, and that we're improving the world, and give ourselves a pat on the back, and give sincere recognition to the activists next to us, or who we'll next meet.

Now let me back up a bit. I dreaded this evening because it was my extended family's annual Easter dinner. Easter is the most ironically cruel holiday. It celebrates the Prince of Peace by indulging in some of the world's most viciously produced foods. I dreaded seeing the ham on the buffet table—the cut-up corpse of a tortured and brutally killed soul.

Well, this year they had no ham. They had two kinds of lasagna—and one was vegan, with Follow Your Heart cheese. When I arrived, my niece asked how Mike the Cat and Fiona the Bunny were doing. And I told her how Mike was famous now—internationally!—because he had his picture in a Canadi