Why people go (and stay) vegan

  We often find, as vegans, that people are surprised when they find out we are, or that we’re deciding to go vegan. This can be frustrating, and even astounding for us who have done reflection, and see it as not only a viable option, but the obvious choice when we consider the realities behind the products we’re taught to see as normal. Today, we’re going to talk about why. Or more specifically, we’re going to outline the plight of a vegan.

Disclaimer

   I do want to make it clear that there are just as many reasons to be vegan as there are vegans in this world, and in no way do I plan on (or claim to be) speaking for all vegans. You can find my explanation of reasons to go vegan here, if you want my insight on the whole “why” of it all. 

   But shortly, I’d just like to say that not all vegans are vegans for ethical reasons, or are interested in animal rights or welfare. This is a position that I am aware of, although I don’t have a personal experience of. Today’s post is not going to talk about that. We’re talking about veganism and the argument for animal rights and animal welfare. If someone has recently “gone vegan for the animals” in your social circle and you simply don’t understand why, then this is the post for you. And if you’re interested in learning about some different kinds of vegans, you can read up on that in this post. With that out of the way, let’s move forward!

The default setting

   We know that most people aren’t born into veganism. This is something worth mentioning on its own, due to the amount of people who tell vegans “You have no idea what you’re missing.” Most of us do. In fact, it was something that we had to have a big emotional and logical revelation around to even consider giving up the comforts of our younger years. So yeah, don’t be that person who says that. 

   The real reason I want to bring this up, however, is that it highlights the start of most people’s “vegan journey”, if that’s what you want to call it. (And I suppose, in many people who never decide to go vegan or anything of the sort, it also marks the end of their “vegan journey” as well. But the point is, we all start off in more or less the same place.) We generally like animals. Some of us may even be animal lovers. But not all. At any rate, some animals are cute. We remember our childhood pets, or our friend’s way too friendly cat, or that one time we made a connection with an animal behind the glass at a zoo. Animals can be pretty cool. 

  Of course, we also eat them. And that’s kind of uncomfortable to think about when we really sit with it for too long. But ultimately, we distance ourselves from that discomfort. And we do it for really compelling reasons. After all, it’s just “the way things are”. Everyone we know eats animals, our religion says it’s okay, our moms tell us it’s okay. This is just what humans do. 

   It’s normal. And after all, what is the alternative?

Shifting the norm

   I read somewhere that it takes around 50 exposures to veganism (or more broadly, vegan themes) for someone to consider making the switch themselves. And while I don’t know who said it or how reliable that statistic is, it does make light of one specific thing. Choosing to be vegan or even live in a generally more compassionate way doesn’t happen suddenly. At least, not for most of us. This isn’t because we’re selfish. At least, I don’t think so. It takes a lot of convincing to get us humans to deviate from what we consider to be “the norm”. We’re hardwired to propagate what has kept us safe and sustained, at nearly any cost. So really, making any sort of change is a gradual thing. 

   And veganism is no different. While many people who go vegan may be able to cite one specific moment where they decided “that’s it–I’m vegan from now on”, that doesn’t mean that was their first exposure to veganism. Even if they think it was, they likely had a few experiences before that they saw but didn’t really commit to memory, because the brain is funny like that. It’s primed to notice the things that are familiar to it, and remember them to frame a cohesive narrative. Many of us (myself included) are able to look back and see vegan ideas and lessons long before we were aware of veganism as a word, much less an actual option. This becomes more clear the longer you’re vegan, because you see it as normal.

   So maybe you didn’t like being told that the chicken on your plate was once an actual chicken. Or you were upset, seeing roadkill that one time. Maybe you really bonded with your family dog or you didn’t want to kill the fishies when your grandpa took you fishing. These are things that we’re exposed to very young, and are very common experiences. The adults in our lives tell us that that’s how life is. Just as the adults in their lives told them as a child, and the cycle continues. Except when it doesn’t.

Breaking the chain

   If this is so normal in society, why are there more people turning away from this self-perpetuating cycle of supply and demand? Well, not many of us do it as young children, because of the influence our authorities have over us, as well as our critical thinking skills and the information we acquire. And as we get older (much older, for some of us), time brings new information, as well as new perspectives with which to filter the information that we’ve been given. 

   Thing is, animals don’t prefer to just lay down and die for our food and product preferences. And we become more aware of that as time goes by. I think we also have the information age to thank in part for this. Because if we don’t live on the farm where we get our chicken from, how are we supposed to know what kind of life (and death) it had before reaching our plates? And if we haven’t seen the slaughterhouses that “produce the product”, why would we assume that we’re necessitating such widespread violence whenever we sit down to eat our favorite dinner? Why would we assume that the people we love and trust to teach us right from wrong are condoning and endorsing an industry of ethical horrors? We wouldn’t. We’re good people, and so are the people who lovingly raised us. 

The disillusionment of ethical veganism

   Once we’ve made the connection that eating animals (and their byproducts) means largescale slaughter and lifelong confinement of these animals and we’ve processed the gravity of that fact, the world can start to feel a little bit…well, upside-down. Foods that we used to see as delicious are reminders of death and violence. We feel that they are literal dead bodies–because they are. And for maybe the first time in our lives, that means something. 

   But it’s not just the “food” that’s obscured for us, it’s everything. Years of tradition boils down to little more than “this is what I was told”. Chains that link back to people you’ve never even met or heard of. And you realize that you don’t agree with what everybody tells everyone else, from as soon as they’re able to speak. We say, “this is okay”. We say, “this is just how it is”. But why does it have to be? It’s sort of similar to seeing widespread violence of any kind. The world seems so dim and there’s this sad part of you that just wants to know, “why can’t we all just be at peace?” There’s got to be a better way of doing things. But then it’s mixed with an anger too, because it’s not like animals have us locked up in cubicles, awaiting the day that we can get big enough to kill and ingest. No. It’s just us. And that’s one of the biggest shocks of all. Because you really have to stop and ask, “What does it really mean to be a good person?” And you have to realize that sometimes good people do bad things. 

Veganism, a way out

   I remember someone once asked me why I went vegan. It was one of the days when I was feeling willing and able to have an open discourse on the subject, and I still remember years later what followed. 

   “I felt really bad about eating animals.” I said. “Even if I don’t love them, it doesn’t mean that they deserve to die for my taste buds.” This person looked confused. They had clearly never felt guilty about what was on their plate, and they told me as much. I nodded, because I could relate to what they were saying. “I didn’t always think about it like that either. But once I did, it wouldn’t go away.” 

   And that’s really what it’s about, at the end of the day. It’s not about what would happen if the whole world went vegan, or about the ethics of lion behavior, or what you would do if you were starving on a desert island. This widespread killing of animals and/or keeping them for our entertainment and comfort, it’s unnecessary. No matter what sort of animal expert you purport yourself to be, I can tell you this much. They didn’t want to die. And they certainly didn’t want to die just so we could have a “nice steak”. Deep down, we know that. And veganism is a way, not to stop it, but to simply step back from our contribution to these things. 

The roadblocks to veganism

   Here’s the thing. I think a lot of people agree with most of the ethical vegan’s points. Most people think it’s sad that animals are killed to produce meat, leather, gelatin (etc). And most understand that animals have feelings and emotions and desires. Even the argument that animals are here for us to eat them, most people disagree with. You’ll get all the way through your reasonings for why without a disagreement (often enough, though not always), but then when you come to the conclusion that you felt compelled to go vegan due to all of this, people bristle.

They’ll say, “Oh, I could never do that.” But that’s just not true. People do it. I did it, and it wasn’t because I didn’t like the taste of some animal products. Actually, when I think back to my favorite foods before going vegan, every single one of them had animal products in them. 

   They get tripped up because of the barriers. Because it’s unfamiliar, weird, maybe even scary for them. You can find my piece about the things that keep us from going vegan here. But regardless of your personal past experiences, going vegan is a viable option, for most people–especially those who are able to buy their food at a grocery store. And most of the excuses that we feel we have to give vegans are just that. Excuses. We use them to avoid our cognitive dissonance resurfacing, because it hurts to look at. The vegan that you’re talking to experienced this themself, firsthand (unless they’ve always been vegan, but again, that’s rare).

Taking responsibility

   Like I said, part of going vegan is understanding that sometimes good people do bad things. And sometimes, that means engaging in immoral practices for their entire life because they don’t know better. But at some point, people who decide to be an ethical vegan feel a sense of needing to take responsibility for their own actions–not just the intent behind them. And I have to ask, when is it enough?

   At what point are you able to say that you truly didn’t know better? Because yes, there’s a sense of cognitive dissonance behind the culture of meat eating and animal agriculture as a whole. But we know that chicken was a chicken. That pork was a pig. Beef was a cow. And we know that in order to “become meat”, these animals, with their individual wants, needs, feelings and personalities, had to die after a life that was sustained for that sole purpose. And sure, there are more specific horrors that go along with these things, but even if there weren’t, come on. What makes our personal taste preferences worth more to us than the literal lives of other beings? And it’s not just one. Imagine–try to do the math–of how many animals’ lives and deaths that you’ve necessitated by deciding to eat them for breakfast, lunch or dinner. I know this is uncomfortable to think about. But it’s a reality. We’re lucky it’s a reality that we don’t have to think about in our day to day life, but the animals who we eat are not that lucky. 

   Yes, just because someone goes vegan it doesn’t make them an inherently better person than someone who isn’t vegan. But if you know the harm that your actions bring about and choose not to course correct where possible, that’s not a compassionate decision or action. Even if doing the right thing would be “harder” or “inconvenient” or “weird”, that’s still not a justification. At least, not a valid one. Not when we’re talking about life and death scenarios. 

   And no, just because you’re not eating animals doesn’t mean you’re saving animals. That’s another thing entirely. But you’re doing your best to take yourself out of the equation. And that’s worth something, if only to ease your guilty conscience.

So ultimately, this is why people go and stay vegan for the animals. It’s a paradigm shift, from seeing a steak as a “what” vs. a “who”. Or, I suppose, more specifically, seeing a cow as a what or who. It’s not a value judgement on you or the rest of the world, and it’s not a challenge to come up and argue with you. In fact, being an ethical vegan isn’t about you (or the individual that decides it) at all. It’s about the animals, and what’s being done to them and their lives.

I hope this piece helped you understand the motivations of the ethical vegan. If you’re interested in learning more about veganism, consider subscribing to the blog. I write all sorts of content about exploring different facets of veganism, as well as other ways of living a more ethical lifestyle. If you’re vegan, let us know in the comments why you decided to make that choice. And as always, thank you for reading!