What I Learned About the Free Speech Narrative at Donald Trump’s Rally in Chicago

Just over a week ago, I was frittering away some of my precious remaining life moments on Facebook when I happened upon one of those rare links that grabbed my attention and this time it wasn’t for another cashew cheese recipe (these look good!) or leading me down a twisty rabbit hole of Gertrude Stein recordings but something that actually changed my plans for the week ahead: I learned that Donald Trump was going to be speaking in Chicago and that I could request tickets. I clicked on the link, assuming that when I truthfully answered no and no to whether I was a Republican and if I would be interested in working on Mr. Trump's campaign that I would likely go deleted into that good night, so I was a little surprised a moment or two later when I got a confirmation text and message that I had two virtual tickets waiting for me online. It was strange that it was so easy; while it made me feel a little skin-crawl-y out to have a message from the Donald Trump campaign sitting in my very own email box, my mission was accomplished. (I will look into performing laptop exorcisms later.) I notified one of my wackier friends and in short order, she had tickets as well. We were off to the presidential races.

A lot of people asked why I would want to go to what is essentially a monster truck rally for misplaced white rage and racial anxiety. I wanted to go because I wanted to see it – particularly the whole strange spectacle around Donald Trump – with my own eyes in person. It seemed like such an obvious answer: how could I not want to see it? (Sometimes I forget that not everyone has my level of morbid curiosity and they are saner for it.) It just felt like something I just needed to bear witness to and observe. I think – or maybe just hope in a wishful thinking sort of way – that it was an historic night and the beginning of the end of his campaign’s ascendancy.

The thing that stuck out to me in the media and public comment sh*t storm that followed Chicago’s unforgettable “UM, NO” response to the Trump spectacle was a variation of a trope that as vegans, we hear all the time: You guys are suppressing someone else’s right to free speech. I’ll get to the vegan parallel in a bit.

As someone who was at the Trump rally, I can promise you that while there were moments of protesters being collared and escorted out to a thunderous chorus of chants from his supporters (“Kick him out! Kick him out!”), for the most part, it was a very boring and low-key event until the final 30 minutes or so. The police officers, security guards and assorted campaign workers were on it as soon as anything possibly rambunctious emerged, clued in first by the masses with their smartphones at the ready who responded to any little flare up hungrily. A riot was not happening. A riot of dudes in red “Make America Great” baseball caps, perhaps, or maybe a riot caused by a crowd driven to madness by the constant replaying of “Tiny Dancer” and “Mother’s Little Helper” from the sound guy. Other than that, for the first 2/3 of the night, things were uneventful to the point of tedium. In fact, by 6:15, I was nagging my friend that I wanted to go and thankfully she talked me out of it because if I had gotten my way, I would have missed everything that made this night newsworthy. (Trump was scheduled to speak at 6:00.)

When it was announced at around 6:30 that Trump would not be speaking, of course, the crowd went wild and this was what was shown in the news clips. The sleeping giant was awakened and suddenly, we could see that the arena was thick with anti-Trump protesters: they took to the stadium floor and rejoiced: jumping, whooping, shouting, arms raised, high-fiving and unabashedly savoring the moment of unexpected victory together. The tumult was deafening and a clash was imminent: one side was blatantly savoring the triumph (“We stumped Trump!”) and the other brandishing their Trump signs and chanting, “U.S.A.! U.S.A! U.S.A!,” looking like soccer fans whose favorite team just lost the most important game of the season. I couldn’t resist heading to the floor myself and seeing it up close.

I saw a lot of heated exchanges; I saw a lot of skirmishes that stopped just short of actual violence (it was more like a mosh pit); I saw a lot of enraged and frustrated Trump supporters, many of whom no doubt travelled long distances and spent many hours waiting, and a lot of thrilled protesters taking obvious delight in their victory dance but you know what I didn’t see that whole afternoon? I didn’t see any activists blocking anyone’s right to free speech. This was Trump’s rally to cancel and that’s just what he did. Like I said, things were pretty boring until the announcement of his cancellation, the announcer claiming that after consulting with the Chicago Police Department (later refuted by the CPD), Trump didn’t deem it safe to speak (suddenly he cares about safety?) and that was when the scenes people saw on CNN of inside the pavilion broke out in earnest.

After the event, I’ve seen this spin in conservative media and commentary again and again: Those violent, rude activists -- they only value their own free speech. Whether you like Donald Trump or not, he has a right to free speech. Um, okay. Nobody, and I repeat nobody, was in any way standing between that man and his microphone. As an aspiring President of the United States, if dissent is such a big threat to you that you cancel speaking at an event that your supporters spent hours and hours to be able to attend, you, sir, are not cut out for the job. But that’s not even what I want to talk about.

What I want to dispute is this notion that merely by having a presence at the Trump rally, even one that was occasionally loud, activists somehow silenced the windbag that is Donald Trump. This individual whom we have heard bloviate on and on about “Mexican rapists,” “terrorists,” “walls,” “wiping out Isis,” “deportation,” “pigs,” “dogs,” and “losers” ad nauseum was somehow silenced?

Democracy is messy. Sometimes democracy is loud. Sometimes democracy is intimidating. Sometimes in a democracy we hear things we don’t want to hear and we hear it in a way that don’t like but that is not in the same ballpark as silencing. No one violated Mr. Trump’s freedom of speech, which he enjoys amplification of due to his celebrity, while exercising their freedom of speech. If the only way Mr. Trump and his supporters feel that his freedom of speech is protected is if his opponents are silenced, he’s got bigger leadership and self-aggrandizement issues than I thought.

Because this is a blog that focuses on veganism, I can’t help but circle back and point out a parallel of what I heard about the protesters (“They’re trying to take away his free speech!”) and what I often hear about vegans (“They’re trying to take away my freedom of choice!”).

Often times, when vegans speak up for the animals and against our use of them, we are accused of being tyrants. Let’s put that in perspective: vegans are, at best, two-to-three percent of the population of the U.S., which means that 97-to-98 percent of the population is not vegan. There are between 55 to 70 billion land animals killed each year for consumption worldwide. This is just land animals, not sea-life, which is guessed to be even higher. Millions more animals suffer in laboratories, on fur farms, zoos, canned hunts, circuses and so on. Again, we are supposed to believe that the two-to-three percent of vegans are somehow suppressing the “rights” of people to continue to use animals as they wish when the law completely supports their consumption habits? Please tell me how one’s “freedom of choice” is violated by an activist saying things that person doesn’t want to hear. It isn’t. It is the presence of activists or simply vegans that make those who still consume animals feel oppressed, much as in the case of Donald Trump. In this power structure, let’s remember who really is dominant.

The next time you want to say that activists don’t believe in freedom of speech or freedom of choice, I would ask you to really examine how much you value your freedoms: Is it enough to accept dissenting views? Enough to not be so threatened by these views that you accuse others of oppressing you when they say things you don’t want to hear? Enough that you understand that speaking up against oppression and violence is not taking away anyone’s rights?  

The Trump campaign refers to their supporters as “the silent majority.” Whether they are silent – or a majority – is up for debate. Were they silenced, though, by protesters? Are people who eat animals losing their “freedom of choice” when activists speak up against violence to other animals? No and no.

To borrow a phrase, this is what democracy looks like.

In Search of Lost Loopholes...

 

I want to say that I fully understand the dazzling allure of a great loophole. Oh, loopholes, so comfortable and safe like a nice, comfortable easy chair you can sink into like it was built for you. In a way that makes sense because it was built for and by you. Loopholes are handy moral clauses that allow you an exit strategy from something that you know you should do but would prefer not to do or a justification for behavior that, in your heart of hearts, you know is immoral. I know all about loopholes as I have been an expert at scoping them out since my earliest recollections. I learned from observing my grandmother, for example, that if you keep cutting slivers off a piece of cheesecake – just a tich, as she liked to say – it doesn’t feel the same as eating a whole slice even if the eventuality is the same amount or even more cheesecake. A loophole is often a way for the mind to deceive itself while knowing full well, or mostly well, that it is being sneaky.

One such moral loophole presented itself during my brief flirtation with kleptomania during the summer of my 14^th year, when I justified stealing eye shadow from the local drugstore by telling myself that they’d gotten plenty of my comic book and Bubble Yum dollars over the years and I deserved a little freebie. Oh, also, if I liked the way it looked, I would buy it again from Alpine Pharmacy and my single swiped product might serve to generate many more legitimate sales for them. I was actually helping them if I thought about it and as I pocketed eye shadows, lipsticks and the odd mascara that summer, I did think about it. That loophole quickly dissolved – as did my nascent career as a petty thief – when the owner-pharmacist of Alpine silently sidled up next to me while I was in the cosmetics aisle, put his hand on my shoulder and intimated that he knew what I was up to and he knew my parents as well. Done: I was effectively dissuaded from shoplifting for a lifetime.  

That wasn’t my first or last loophole, though. When I first started down the path of veganism, it wasn’t long before I stumbled upon a really nice loophole when it came to not wanting to give up my favorite raspberry Danishes at Alliance bakery: Well, I don’t know that they aren’t vegan. Just because it didn’t expressly say anywhere in the case that they were vegan – and nor did I ask – it didn’t mean that they weren’t made with soymilk and silken tofu. Never mind that it was 1995 and people weren’t generally baking like that; I had a tidy little loophole that allowed me to keep eating animal products for another year or so until watching a film successfully cut that loop wide open just as the pharmacist at Alpine had done years before. No more raspberry Danishes for me. No more loopholes out of veganism. This time, the personal consequence that I was facing if I’d continued wasn’t that I would be a juvenile delinquent but that I was a hypocrite. I couldn’t live with either of those outcomes.

I understand the seductive enticement of the loophole right away because, like I said, I enjoy an easy out as much as the next person. Our loopholes around veganism arise when people would rather avoid implementing changes than fully face their discomfort about what we do to other animals and what it says about our collusion when we support the industries that kill them. Loopholes materialize like mirages to those overtaken with unease when they would prefer to embrace complicated and crafty excuses than to confront the simple truth that all beings would prefer to live on their own terms and that harming them for personal benefit is unethical. In the process of trying to make peace with something that feels uncomfortable and untenable, we cling to these loopholes like they are life preservers: the loopholes may say, But my family is Italian, or, But what about lions?, or, But I can’t eat soy, or, But what I eat is free-range. When feeling unease about being complicit in an exploitative, cruel and unnecessary system that goes against their values, many would sooner construct a complicated mental gymnastics routine where they collect loopholes rather than lean into the discomfort and ask some penetrating questions of themselves. We are a self-deluding species. I understand that I am just as much as anyone else.

In our search for an out, for a loophole, we reveal that we are not fully comfortable with our decisions. We are saying we’d like to do something but do it without feeling guilty. I remember the pharmacist at Alpine, his hand on my shoulder, his insinuating tone: I resented him, I was intimidated by him, but I also knew that he was right. When we are in that role, when we tell the world that their moral clauses are rubbish and that their loopholes are really just a desperate exit strategy out of facing a deeper truth about living with consistency, we are probably not going to be embraced with open arms by most who feel that they have a handy justification. This is why having options like recipes, living tips and so on will be better received. At the same time, we need to call out the dishonesty of loopholes when we see them and remind people that if they are comfortable with their decisions, no excuses are necessary.

10 Questions: Vegan Rockstar with Sherry Milford o'Piebird and Yan Piebird

These two. These two. For serious. They are the best.

Sherry Milford o’Piebird and Yan Piebird entered my life a couple of years ago when Sherry posted what must be the most perfect video ever made on the Vegan Street Facebook page; it is the most perfect video because it contains rescued goats, vegan pie and fun, happy people who just happen to run what may be the world’s most freaking adorable refuge, Piebird Farmstay and Sanctuary, 3 ½ hours north of Toronto in Nipissing, Ontario. Really flipping happy, adorable perfection. Once I saw their video (um, about twenty times in a row) and was completely mesmerized, Sherry and I struck up a friendship and a pen-pal correspondence that I am completely negligent about on my end but I still am overjoyed when one of her colorful letters arrives. I think of Sherry and Yan as the country mice counterparts to John and me, except I’m not nearly as kind and cheerful as my inspiring sister at Piebird. (I think the missing element is the lack of goats in my everyday life: if I were surrounded by goats, I’d probably be a lot more joyful, too, because they are basically The Best.) (Oh, there are also the chickens, turkeys, cats, ducks, organic farm, vintage farmhouse, freaking yurts and organic heirloom seeds with the best packet designs evah that could all add up as to why their outlook is as sunny as it is.)

Okay, so basically Sherry and Yan rule and I kind of want to take over their lives but then I’d probably find a way to make it all angsty and stressful and less magical. So I will let Sherry and Yan continue to be the joyous faces behind Piebird and I will admire/envy them from my (sadly) goat- and yurt-deficient urban existence. They are basically everything that hipster goat-milk soap-makers wish they were BUT they are still 100,000,000 units (give or take a few) more awesome. Sherry and Yan are artistic, creative, fun, unpretentious, silly, dedicated, love-centered and fabulous. I am so grateful that they are in the world, they are in my world, and they are showing everyone a model of what love, commitment and a healthy measure of to-thine-own-self-be-true looks like. I love these guys. You will love them, too. Please like Piebird on Facebook and consider visiting their delicious slice of vegan paradise in Ontario. (“Piebird: A delicious slice of vegan paradise…” Why am I seeing this in t-shirt form, Yan and Sherry?)

1. First of all, we’d love to hear your “vegan evolution” story. How did you start out? Did you have any early influences or experiences as a young person that in retrospect helped to pave your path?

SHERRY: I’ve been veg for 28 years and can’t really recall a specific incident that prompted the switch. I may have caught vegetarianism on the breeze at a nuclear disarmament Peace Walk since I don’t recall ever meeting or talking to a vegetarian let alone a vegan back then (but surely they were around!). Also, I had never really met a "farm" animal until we started adopting them into our family 10 years ago. When Yan and I started Piebird and the sanctuary started growing (before we knew what a sanctuary was!), living with "farm" animals allowed for my resolve to cement in a way that not only has made me a committed vegan animal advocate, but also a full-on “Vegan killjoy” here to ruin non-vegans days in the most cheerful way I can muster!

The term Ethical Vegan resonated with me and allowed me to feel at home in my dedication, almost giving me permission to be who I am and feel what I feel.  Identifying as an Ethical Vegan gives me confidence to represent the animals and the movement in a way that no one seems to be able to argue with.

YAN: I was that kind of vegetarian who long adopted the vegan lifestyle before realizing that I had and before I even thought to utilize the word Vegan. Having an undramatic and underwhelming Vegan-transformation I think really speaks to how completely natural becoming Vegan is. It’s like choosing to breathe. The choice to live Vegan is done with ease.

The more theatrical transformation came once we started living with animal-friends here. Once animals became my family, I needed to live my every day doing more for their peers. I was radicalized by feathered and furry friends. A confident chicken-friend named Melony helped me realize that I can’t just be quietly kind, I have to live love loudly. Then a matriarchal goat-friend named Ginger set my pants on fire in a pretty influential way, teaching: be more than principled, be roaring.

Now I fly the flag with immense confidence. Also, I’d like to second what Sherry was saying, the language of an “Ethical Vegan” is the most awesome word combination in the history of vocabulary.

2. Imagine that you are pre-vegan again: how could someone have talked to you and what could they have said or shown you that could have been the most effective way to have a positive influence on you moving toward veganism?

YAN: This is a great exercise, imagining someone speaking to our younger selves is a reminder to look within the confused crowds and see actual individuals, to see other renditions of our selves. When our movement is essentially advocating that animal-crowds be seen as feeling individuals, we must be communicating to the human-crowds as feeling individuals as well.

So, for a younger me I do wish a big rock had fallen from the sky with the words “Go Vegan” written on it, to begin the transformation. This metaphorical rock would have been a truth-living person who would have simply invited me to Veganism. We all appreciate being invited, being part of something, something positive. I imagine a straightforward invitation, perhaps it would have gone like this:

“So you understand the need to be disobedient to the status quo? And you enjoy peace? Well, the things that are done to animals simply shouldn’t be done to anybody. So why not try the form of non-violence known as Veganism?”

Bingo. I belligerently hope I would have accepted the invitation then and jump-started my journey of ethical understanding.

SHERRY: Just knowing there was someone else in the world that was like me would have helped I think -- it was the mid-eighties, pre-internet days and I was a 12 year old in a small town (you remember what that’s like, you’re the biggest freak in the world!) [Ed: Who me???]. If someone would have embraced me when I was a wee vegetarian and said, “being vegan is better, it is normal, it’s the others that are crazy,” that certainly would have allowed for a grander evolution.

3. What have you found to be the most effective way to communicate your message as a vegan? For example, humor, passion, images, etc.?

SHERRY: Teaching by example and always answering questions truthfully without sugar-coating the answers. I do wear a lot of vegan-themed shirts (Vegan Street’s “Vegan for Everything” being my favourite) and try to foster questions and conversations. It’s about normalizing veganism and making it accessible.

When we give tours of the sanctuary, we let the residents tell their stories and I think meeting animals is the most concrete way to get the message across. Who’s going to argue with Jollygood that he isn’t charming and absolutely deserving of a full and free life? (Jolly’s a goat-friend saved from being eaten after starring on a TV show). Upon meeting Daffodil, no one is going to tell her that she doesn’t deserve to live as a free and respected individual. (Daffy is a chicken-friend from local egg farm “retirement.”) It’s just about connecting and seeing the person within the species.

Even though I do not like the pressure of being the always “healthy vegan,” I have found that being healthy, fit, energetic and smiley has helped to spread the message that vegan is the way to be! Yan and I have extremely physical jobs day-to-day and that helps communicate that as vegans we can be strong in body and mind!

YAN: We are very fortunate that much of our vegan outreach happens at the sanctuary, where the animal-friends here use a full spectrum of styles to speak-up for their peers. Here are some of my observations about their more successful methods, which may be helpful for effective human-to-human messaging:

Sunshine advocates by not adhering to any conventional boundaries of personal space and really gets deep in there and emits love and smiles. The fact that he is a gigantic goat-friend really accentuates his intimate approach.

Rose-a-Doodle opts for the power of snuggles: I am turkey, hear me purr!

Kenneth hypnotizes humans by dancing while flaunting the extensive array of out-of-this-world extravagance that turkeys are blessed with. Hypnotization is an under-used form of advocacy.

Mighty-Pepe likes to smash omnivores in the shins and then flash them a winning smile that curls way up up into his eyebrows. Curiously, this rather abrupt oscillation is very effective on humans. He insists that a goat-smash is a radical form of non-violence.

As pacifists, we can emulate his style with a pinch-n-grin: deliver a quick hard-hitting fact then a big dose of reassuring love. Pepe says repeat as often as necessary.

We’re playful people, and some of the animal-friends here are playful people too, with a wonderful sense of humour. The issues attached to Veganism are very serious (obviously!), but I feel effective when putting the smile into serious.

4. What do you think are the biggest strengths of the vegan movement?

YAN: Oh, the biggest strength of this love-based vegan movement is for sure the phenomena of ethical inspiration. Every individual living true to peaceful values is an inspiration for others around them to do the same. The great thing about moral courage is that it’s contagious. As the movement grows, this inspiration becomes exponential!

SHERRY: The movement is full of individuals generous with support and love. There are many who are communicating the message free of ego.

5. What do you think are our biggest hindrances to getting the word out effectively?

SHERRY: Ego and anger. The combo is deadly for the movement, for the people receiving it and the person spewing it. As aware people, it’s hard not to be angry at the world because after all, everywhere we look we see suffering of innocent beings. But to work, it needs to be channeled effectively — through love, education or humour.

YAN: I think many who feel the immediacy, unintentionally churn that into anger. Humans are very promiscuous with their anger, ya know? Authentic anger can be useful I guess, but we as a community can communicate the immediacy of our message without becoming little emotional alchemists, turning every horror into anger. We have better things to broadcast than the wallowing fury we all feel. Better things like love. The collective power of our love can overcome this ramped oppression. We can do this with an outrageous passion, but we must do this without a temper tantrum. We must be fierce peace.

6. All of us need a “why vegan” elevator pitch. We’d love to hear yours.

YAN: Animal agriculture is a form of hatred. Living Vegan is a form of love. Each of us is free to choose.

SHERRY: Every day we have a choice to act with love or proliferate hate. By choosing vegan I am acting with Love by not contributing to the slavery, abuse, or murder of sentient beings. Imagine being an individual trapped in the system having your body used any way the profiteers choose. No matter the species we all crave freedom and the opportunity to be individuals within our herd or flock families.

7. Who are the people and what are the books, films, websites and organizations that have had the greatest influence on your veganism and your continuing evolution?

SHERRY: The individuals in sanctuary that I share my days with — the goats, chickens, turkeys, ducks and cats that are the reason, literally, why I get out of bed some days. They remind me everyday of the ones who are still enslaved, who we must keep working for. They show me love and understanding when I think the world has none left. They tell me that it is okay when I am physically and mentally exhausted, because they are worth it all.

YAN: Like Sherry, I feel I’ve made the most profound gains in understanding the profane exploitation of animals by living-with and learning-from animal-friends. Much of the obstacle-course we as a movement have to dismantle is this entrenched human-centric worldview, so it only makes sense to learn from places beyond our humanity.

Our family is animals, they taught me about love: How to love, why to love, where love will take you, and how to talk about love in such a way that other people will want to try it too. Every new member of our sanctuary-family is another influence in my elaborate awareness that is Veganism.

Also: I, Yan, take Vegan Street to be my lawfully wedded influence. Vegan Street’s witty, potent and proficient ways inspire me to be a “Vegan Feminist Agitator!” [Ed: Awwww! I hereby decree thee one of us, Yan!]

8. Burn-out is so common among vegans: what do you do to unwind, recharge and inspire yourself?

YAN: We all understand that it feels good to do nice things for a friend. I regroup myself by doing or building beautiful things for the animal-friends here in sanctuary — things that will make them smile. Everybody benefits from the good stuff in a smile. Making them happy makes me happy. A mutual exchange of happiness is a great remedy for burn-out.

SHERRY: I spend quiet time with the residents in sanctuary, sometimes I’ll just go sit or lay down out there and see who comes over to snuggle. Also, kitchen dance parties with Yan once everyone is tucked away safely for the night! We're lucky to have a couple of really good human friends who care as much about the individuals here as we do. Sharing the stories of what each of the residents did that day, and sharing the joys or sadness of running a sanctuary make it easier.

It helps also to have something beautiful in every direction I look. We’re slowly filling the walls with portraits painted of the sanctuary residents here (there is an amazing animal rights artist named Karrel Christopher who I adore). It makes me feel good to see these constant reminders that each individual is like a living piece of art, a gorgeous example of true beauty, and absolutely deserving of goodness.

9. What is the issue nearest and dearest to your heart that you would like others to know more about?

SHERRY: Oh *groan*, the dairy industry... the baby-stealing, mama-hating dairy industry. How can something so evil be so prevalent? Don’t we all know so many kind people who still support it’s vileness? Making sure people know that the goat dairy (or sheep) industry is just as evil as cow dairy is a mission for myself.

YAN: Animal personhood. Animals are persons too.

10. Please finish this sentence: “To me, being vegan is...”

YAN: To me, being vegan is a not just a diet that is sans-animal, it’s a life that celebrates other lives — a life of love.

SHERRY: Caring about something outside myself and trying to make up for the ugly in the world by building and doing beautiful things.

Ten Diametrically Oppositional Arguments Against Veganism That Make My Head Explode

One of the more maddening aspects of interacting with the public about our veganism is the strange but very common phenomenon of being asked to accept two diametrically opposed ideas and beliefs as accurate or true. Contradictions obviously happen a lot in life – we all know people who loathe children but have nothing but tenderness for dogs, for example – and those seeming inconsistencies are part of what can make life an interesting and rich experience. What I am referring to here is something different, though. In the grasping-at-straws that regularly occurs when people attempt to make peace with their conflicted feelings about eating animals, they are trying to reconcile liking the way something tastes and wanting to continue the practice of eating it with not liking what it says about them to be complicit in the violence that consuming those animals necessitates. It is an understandably uncomfortable friction for many, even for those who claim otherwise. Maybe especially so for them. This is a big part of why vegans experience so much public push back, often when we are not even engaging in debate. We become the physical manifestation the inner-conflict that naturally arises out of the unresolved internal discord people feel about eating animals. In short, we are the messengers, even when we are not wearing our messenger hat. As such, we are exposed to some bizarre mental gymnastic routines that we are expected to accept, ones that assert two deeply conflicting messages, often times within moments of one another. Let’s explore some, shall we?

 


1. Vegans eat only salads and vegans eat only processed foods.

This set of prevailing contradictory attitudes, one insisting that vegans are neurotic kill-joys who are calorie- and/or weight-obsessed and the other maintaining that we subside on deep-fried soy pig skin analogs, could not be more oppositional yet we hear these all the time.

Real talk Some vegans emphasize whole plant foods more than others but the vast majority of us are somewhere in the middle of these extremes. If you see someone posting a photo of salads or a photo of donuts, it does not mean that is all that person eats. Jeez. 

 

2. If we didn’t eat them, the animals would go extinct and if we didn’t eat them, the animals would take over the world.

Wait: what? I am so confused. Somehow, in one fell swoop, meat-eaters are able to save farmed animals from extinction by chowing down on them and also prevent said animals “from taking over the world,” by ordering Big Macs and chicken wings, which means that they are doing their part to ensure population balance. What a strange paradox! Singlehandedly, they fight extinction by paying others to endlessly provide a supply that replenishes diminished (*cough*dead*cough) provisions and they safeguard the planet against insurgent chickens. Thank you, eco-warrior martyrs!

Real talk If we can only deem a species’ existence justifiable when we find a use for them – and that use is something as cruel and punishing as being raised to be eaten – we need to give some serious scrutiny to our morals. If the only alternative to extinction is breeding to ensure a consumable product after a hellish existence, these animals should not be brought into the world at all. Also, I’m just guessing here but it seems to me that there would be a gradual population decrease with reduced breeding and consumption rather than an opening of the factory farm doors and releasing bloodthirsty, predator cows upon our innocent populace. 




3. Vegans are a bunch of wet blankets who take everything too seriously and vegans don’t care about important issues.

Somehow, we’re simultaneously enemies of fun with our annoying need to draw attention to the grave reality of eating animals and we’re frivolous, carefree nincompoops who don’t care about anything that really matters. That is quite the feat to be able to pull off! I’m kind of proud of us. We manage to be both Debbie Downers and Shallow Susies at once. Go us!

Real talk You don’t like hearing about the consequences of animal ag? Well, we don’t like knowing about it but that doesn’t stop it from being reality. Sowwy. I have a solution for you if you think we’re too doom-and-gloom about everything: Stop giving us reasons to be scared and sad about the state of the world, how’s that? Stop feeding the machine that is destroying so many innocent lives and our environment. As for the second claim, the people who make it, in other words, the ones currently eating animals, they are the arbiters of what really matters. Okay. So, yeah, more nonsense. Side note: These people don’t tend to do anything for the good of the world but they are great at monitoring and scoring everyone else.)
 

 
4. Vegans are stinky hippies who live in dumpsters and vegans are raging control freaks who want to dictate your life.

Okay then!

Real talk Okay then!
 

5. Vegans are extreme liberals and vegans are Nazis.

Well, that’s pretty impressive. We’re like Stretch Armstrong, I guess. I will say that at the monthly Tree-Hugging Fascists for Total Global Domination potlucks I attend, you should see the fights break out over who was responsible for adding too much garlic to the hummus. (It’s always the liberals.) We usually end up hugging and then slapping it out, then hugging, then slapping. You get it. It’s weird but it works for us.

Real talk Vegans are of all political persuasions but most of us are on the lefty side so I can kind of see how people jump to the first conclusion, but somehow, we also still manage to be Nazi fascists who are trying to ruin everything good in the world like animal torture and climate change. ‘Kay. Last year, someone yelled at me at a rodeo protest - while walking away because he was badass like that - that vegans are “like the Westboro Baptist Church” for protesting. One group is speaking up against violence and the other spews hateful, fire-and-brimstone vitriol. Yeah, six of one, half a dozen of the other. 

 

 6. I eat meat because I make my own decisions and eating meat was ingrained in me.

Right, sure, you’re this non-conforming, bacon-fetishizing free-thinker who behaves like 97% of the population in thinking that animals are our personal choice to consume but you also happen to be totally powerless to change your habits because of how you were raised. That makes total sense.

Real talk Which is it? I don’t see how these two common attitudes – that omnivores are boldly swimming against the current of the nanny state dictated by the all-powerful tree-hugging neo-Nazi vegan special interest lobby in exercising their “personal choice” to eat animals and are also being powerless, free agency-deficient products of their upbringing – can be reconciled. Try again, bro.  
 

 

7. Vegans are cultists and veganism is fine for other people but some of us like to fit in.

Once again, we’re chastised for being conformists – consider how very dominant the tree-hugging neo-Nazi vegan lobbying influence is in our culture where we’re so surrounded by the idea that animals are ours to use as we wish to the point that we don’t notice it – and being too individualistic by rejecting accepted cultural conventions because, yeah, that makes sense. Somehow, we are capable of both losing our ability to think for ourselves and thinking for ourselves too much. I remain confused!

Real talk Vegans do tend to go against the grain due to having their practices dictated by their conscience rather than social conventions and conveniences but, that said, it’s easier all the time to live as a vegan without too much effort or inconvenience. Whether people want to do their own thing or avoid attention is up to the individual but vegans have all different views about this. It might be tidy to put vegans in a uniform personality box but it’s not accurate.
 
 

8. Vegan parents brainwash their kids and vegan kids will be socially rejected and isolated.

Once more, are we opposed to conformity or for it? This seems to be a recurring contradictory message of meat defenders: We’re brainless conformists or we’re so absolutely fringe we live on the outskirts of society.

Real talk I grew up as an omnivore. Was I ever given a choice of whether I wanted to eat meat or not? No. Just the thought of dairy milk made me want to hurl but was I given the option of not drinking it? No. Did anyone ever explain to me honestly what I was eating? No. Was I ever lied to when I asked what if it came from an animal? Yes. That was not just in the home. This was everywhere and it happened – and is still happening with little restriction – to everyone. At school, we are bombarded with animal industry propaganda from the classrooms to the cafeteria; same thing at the doctor’s office, coming from doctors who are also steeped in the same disinformation; watching TV, listening to the radio, walking in the grocery store or driving down the street, we are inundated with product promotion to the point of it becoming white noise that worms right into our very brain matter. Contrast how my husband and I were raised with how we are raising our son: He knows what he eats – and doesn’t eat – without deception and euphemism. He knows the reality of animal agribusiness is far from Old McDonald’s Farm. He is being raised to ask questions and use critical thinking about all matters, even his veganism. He is being raised to think for himself rather than accept the status quo and to learn how corporations try to manipulate him with images and text. He’s brainwashed? I wonder what you call the kids who don’t even realize that they are eating animals then?
 
 

9. Vegans believe and push propaganda and But you need to eat meat for complete proteins; or, but a cow’s udders would explode if we didn’t drink their milk; or, but I visited a farm once and it was not like this.

This one really burns my grits. (I don’t know where I got that expression, I’m not from the South or anything but whatever, I’m going with it.) Okay, let me try to parse this: The often hidden reality of eating animals that vegans are sharing with the world – a truth that is confirmed by many investigations and organizations – is pretty much the exact opposite of what the vested interests want consumers to know and understand yet we are the ones believing and slinging propaganda? Hello, Mr. Orwell. How are you? This contrasts nicely with the propaganda we regularly are exposed to from people who are so steeped in disinformation, they don’t even realize it.

Real talk: Who are the real followers and deceivers in this equation? The two-to-three percent of people who are bringing the concealed, unpopular information to the surface or the vast majority who are still in the industry’s clutches? I wonder. Actually, no I don’t.
 

 
10. Vegans are a bunch of mushy sentimentalists and I eat meat because my papa was a butcher and this is my way of respecting his memory.

The irony of this one never fails to rankle me. On the one hand, we’re supposed to believe that vegans are a bunch of wildly idealistic bunny-huggers and on the other hand, wah, you have to uphold your family tradition of chowing on animals? Because that’s rational. Who is the sentimentalist here?

Real talk Question: who are the ones reading stories to their kids about happy animals on idyllic farms? Who are the ones who “have to” eat animals because their ancestors did? Who are the ones who cry at Babe but still eat meat? Who are the ones who make their grandmother’s brisket recipe when they’re feeling nostalgic? Who are the ones who love some animals and eat other ones? Answer: Not the vegans. Sentimentalize that.

What diametrically oppositional arguments against veganism make your head explode?