On ‘moderation’

“I am aware, that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity? I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject [of slavery], I do not wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation. No! no! Tell a man whose house is on fire, to give a moderate alarm; tell him to moderately rescue his wife from the hand of the ravisher; tell the mother to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen;—but urge me not to use moderation in a cause like the present.”

~ William Lloyd Garrison

In wanting her life, no sentient being is ever ’moderate’. If non-humans could speak words intelligible to us, theirs would not be a language of moderation.

The next time someone accuses you of being “radical” or a “fundamentalist”, ask them why they’re making it sound like a bad thing.

On ‘preachy’ and ‘dogmatic’ vegans

When vegans try to talk to non-vegans about animal ethics, we are often dismissed as being preachy; we are asked not to impose “our” morality on others, as if morality is something personal that certain individuals can have a claim to. The more consistent we are about not participating in animal exploitation, and the more we speak out on the issue – no matter how politely – the more we are denigrated as being ‘absolutist’, ‘intolerant’, ‘vegangelical’, etc. We are lecture on the alleged need for moderation on the animal issue.

But why shouldn’t vegans discuss with non-vegans the latter group’s participation in something that may very well be wrong? Animal ethics, after all, is no different from any other fundamental aspect of morality – using non-humans as means to our ends is either right or wrong. It cannot be a matter of personal or cultural preference any more than basic issues involving humans. After all, no one thinks that human slavery, rape, child molestation, or spousal abuse are matters of personal opinion of preference. To treat the animal issue differently is simply speciesist.

The fact that humans have been exploiting non-humans for a long time – so very long, in fact, that we take it granted as being in the “natural” order of things – does not excuse our continuing to do it. Like scientific truth, our understanding of moral truth is constantly evolving. New evidence and considerations are brought to our attention, calling on us to re-evaluate our assumptions about ourselves and the world we live in. We now know, for instance, that humans can thrive on a plant-based diet, and we have developed acceptable alternatives to animal clothing and fabrics. So to continue to exploit animals is, at this point, to inflict needless violence on animals – something that any reasonable person will agree is undesirable. The onus is on those who participate in senseless violence to justify why they are doing it. We don’t ask non-rapists to explain why they’re abstaining from senseless violence; we shouldn’t ask it of vegans, either.

To frame the discussion in terms of vegans being ‘dogmatic’, ‘fundamentalist’, or ‘vegangelicals’ is to overlook the fact that, unlike religious dogma, veganism – and animal rights – can be defended on rational grounds. And if animal use is unjust, then it would be quite irresponsible for us not to speak out. Those who decry vegans “imposing our morals” on non-vegans rarely stop to think about how their own day-to-day actions impose extreme suffering and death on animals, and extreme degredation on the environment.

Given the pervasiveness of speciesism in our society, and the fact that most people have not had a chance to consider the need for veganism as minimal standard of decency, vegans should avoid judging non-vegans personally. But judging actions is not the same thing as judging people. The whole “please don’t judge me” way of looking at this is a thinly-veiled, narcissistic attempt to divert attention from what’s really at stake in the issue – massive violence being inflicted on vulnerable, non-human individuals who, like us, will never know or experience anything more precious than this life, here and now.

On being fully human

Human beings are social animals. We yearn for others’ approval, earnestly seek their praise, and often end up altering our behaviour in a vain chase after various mirages called “social norms”. But we are also moral beings, capable of – and often inclined to - embracing moral truth. So what do we do when we realize that society’s moral nihilism is at odds with said truths?

In his book, 1984, George Orwell depicts the struggles of one man - Winston Smith - who dares to remain free in spite of the relentless propaganda and brainwashing that his dystopian society subjects him to. In one part of the book, he remarks:

Always the eyes [of Big Brother] watching you and the voice enveloping you. Alseep or awake, working or eating, indoors or out of doors, in the bath or in bed – no escape. Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimetres inside your skull.

Although nobody reading these words is likely to be living in the kind of totalitarian society depicted in 1984, virtually every human on the planet has been every bit as aggressively subjected to indoctrination in the ideology of violence as Winston Smith was in the ideology of his Orwellian society. The human race is presently intoxicated on the drug of violence, relishing in a sort of drunken stupor that fetishizes oppression, or worse, is indifferent to it.

When we go against the grain by taking a principled stand on anything, we often encounter hostility and social ostracism. No doubt the sober idea of peace is threatening and perhaps even downright offensive to many. But it is not because some take offense at the truth that it ceases to be true, or that we need not be every bit as ardent in embodying it.

All sentient beings – regardless of their sex, race, social class, sexual orientation, or species – care about their lives, and have an interest in not being subjected to gratuitous violence. Speciesism is wrong because, like sexism, racism, and other forms of irrational prejudice, it uses an irrelevant criterion (in this case, species) to deny membership in the moral community. And while all forms of discrimination are unjust, speciesism is particularly problematic because it is used to justify the most hideous violence against the most vulnerable among us. Bred into existence for the sole purpose of being exploited as chattel, ‘domesticated’ non-humans exist in a social contract in which they did not sign up and which allows (nay, demands) that their every interest – including the interest in life itself – be traded away for some frivolous human benefit. We do things to non-humans (under the most “humane” of circumstances) that constitute an unimageinable degree of torture.  

The institution of non-human slavery is not only ubiquitous, but it is also in many ways the most radical form of injustice on the planet – the one that legitimizes all of the others. Genocidal maniacs speak of ‘slaughtering’ nations ‘like pigs’. The word ‘chattel’ (as in, ‘chattel property’) even shares an etymological root with ‘cattle’, perhaps explaining why human slavery did not proliferate until after we started ‘domesticating’ non-humans. Our violence against non-human animals serves as a model for the most vile and barbaric forms of violence against human animals.

But the pervasive and deeply entrenched extent of our violence and subjugation over (human and non-human) animals is rivaled only by our capacity for non-violence. Indeed, the ability to make moral choices is arguably the only meaningful difference between us and other animals. It is what makes us human.

When we embrace ethical veganism, we are not simply expressing a lifestyle preference, or reducing animal cruelty. Veganism is a principled rejection of the commodity status of non-humans; a lived protest against massive violence committed against the most vulnerable among us. In a world so intoxicated on hierarchy that the infliction of violence is promoted – or worse, met with indifference - our individual veganism resonates with a simple yet profound truth: that might does not make right. Your ability to embody that truth, and to live it to fruition is the highest expression of not only your own humanity, but also of your unshakeable ability to remain free in a world that has done everything it can to take that freedom away from you.

“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.” – Albert Camus

So be loud and proud, and shout it from the rooftops. Wear your non-violence on your sleeve, and never apologize for refusing to co-operate with injustice - for not only is it the right thing to do, but it is also social change on the individual level. It is your individual endorsement of – and demands for – a different world. As long as there is even a single ethical vegan on the planet, the intoxicated haze of violence will always have at least that one wall of sobriety against which it will invariably find itself smashing into head-first.

Social attitudes come and go, like waves passing on the surface of water. But underneath their transient rise and fall lies the timeless and unshakeable truth of non-violence. One day, when we near the end of our lives and we look back, it will not be our not having chased after enough fleeting ripples on the surface of eternity that we will come to regret. If we regret anything whatsoever, it will be that in the face of radical injustice, we stood by and did nothing.