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Op-Ed: The importance of standing up for vegetarianism

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010
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Last quarter, I wrote an op-ed for the Daily on how being pro-choice and passive about it did little good to anyone – how indeed, this particular crime of omission on the part of social liberals has enabled the spread of harmful and misleading anti-choice rhetoric. I was asking, basically, that at Stanford, at least, the silent majority stand up and own their position, for the sake of social justice.

In this piece, I am attempting the opposite: I am asking a minority to own their position and stop enabling the harmful practices of the majority. According to estimates from Stanford Dining, vegetarians make up about 15 percent of the Stanford population, and vegans an even smaller percentage. We are a small but diverse group. And we pop up in unexpected places – your computer science TA, that IHUM kid, your problem set buddy might be veg*n (vegan or vegetarian) without you even knowing it. But why should this be the case?

Obviously, veg*nism does not create some sort of “dark mark” à la Voldemort in its subscribers, so we tend to pass fairly easily, though occasionally people find us out. They figure out that our plate is constantly full of lentils, grains, vegetables, fruits, dressings and nuts, but nothing animal-based. They become curious. They ask why. They ask about where you get your protein, and what you’d do in a survival situation and (gasp) what you eat at Thanksgiving. And too often, I think, we are overly hasty in changing the subject. What perfect activist moments wasted! Here we have peers primed to hear about how the ills of meat and dairy production really do affect the planet and their lives. In other words, they’re asking for it. Why not capitalize on the situation? Let’s use those moments to really push Stanford students to think critically about a choice they make at least three times a day.

But goodness, we do not want to offend anyone. Food is a personal choice, right? Oh, if only we made our food choices in a vacuum. Sadly, this is not the case. Food is highly politicized and manipulated before it reaches our plates. Food, especially meat, has a back-story that we usually do not want to hear – one involving factory farming, workers’ rights abuses and overwhelming environmental damage. Informing someone about the benefits of veg*nism does not have to be an inherently condescending act. Consider: if your peers asked you if they should buy Priuses or Hummers, would you tell them they should go with the zippier car? If they asked if they should buy sweatshop or sweat-free t-shirts, would you tell them to buy the ones that fit better? Finally, if someone asked you whether they should eat a meal that wasted thousands of gallons more water, acres of rainforest and pounds of carbon dioxide, while also contributing to immigrants’ and workers’ rights abuses on a large scale, or a meal that did not have such an alarming impact, what would you say?

I contend that by framing food as a purely personal issue, by divorcing it of the context we require for making informed choices, we do a real disservice to our peers. Factory farming, slaughterhouse accidents and climate change are not fun subjects to bring up, but someone has to speak the truth. Whether you are veg*n or not, knowing the impact of your food and acting upon that information is a huge part of being a responsible, global citizen. And for all you veg*n readers, advocacy is then next rational step – go for it.

Janani Balasubramanian ‘12

  • Comment

    I’d like to hear about the end game of your proposition… Eradicate consumption of animal products (dream on)? I don’t think you think this, though. You may however believe that if enough people were to become vegan that the problems you suggest would lessen. While this may be true, I highly doubt that the small vegan population will ever grow large enough to cause any significant change in the institutionalized problems you mention. Perhaps you believe that if enough people were interested stemming “workers’ rights abuses and overwhelming environmental damage,” that policies could be enacted and this is probably more realistic.

  • a student

    The critical underlying assumption in advocacy is that the listener cares about making a better choice. I think this assumption does not hold in many situations: for example, many consumers of big-business commercial meat products know they are making a food choice that has a much more negative effect on the environment than other food options, and they simply do not care.

    I am a vegetarian. Yet I do not believe that a consumer meat eater is a bad person; in fact, many of my friends eat consumer meat. The fact is that I — despite living in a way that I think most people would consider unusually environmentally sensitive — recognize that I make some choices that are not environmentally optimal; I can do better. Why don’t I? My view is that I, like every person, I am no longer willing to make the right choice if it means a level of discomfort, inconvenience, or loss of pleasure that exceeds a threshold. Let’s call this the ethics/personal comfort, or C/F, threshold. I’m guessing my C/F threshold is greater than that of most (first-world) people, and I constantly work to increase it, but it is nonetheless finite and definite. For example, I consume (organic) milk, but I consume considerably less than I used to.

    The real question, to me, then, is not how we inform others about the consequences of their choices — for this is often already known — but rather how an individual and a society as a whole can either (1) increase one’s C/F threshold or (2) decrease the discomfort or lack of satisfaction that comes from making the right choice.

    As an example, I call myself a vegetarian, but I actually eat one type of meat: sardines. I eat sardines b/c they are sustainably fished, are remarkably efficient sources of nutrition, and are delicious. Suppose I have a friend who eats seafood indiscriminately. I might introduce him to sardines. If he likes them, then they can replace some of the other seafood he would otherwise consume.

    As another example, my environmentalism is based on my love of hiking and bicycling in nature. Suppose I take a friend along on a hike, and he enjoys the hike. That is a good time to have a discussion about our direct connection to nature, for I believe that enjoying nature and recognizing in a concrete way what we stand to lose if we’re not careful, increases one’s C/F threshold.