Veganism and Woo

Here's the third part of my veganism and religion essay series (parts 1 and 2 are here and here): 

What is Scientology? A cult? Religion? Despite what one wants to call Scientology, there’s no real appreciable doubt among the majority of society that it’s something rooted in an irrational, illogical, non-scientific, fantastical view of the world.

Scientologists who are vegan—people may be tempted to refer to them as vegan Scientologists—may have a “VEGAN” bumper sticker on their car alongside a “SCIENTOLOGY” bumper sticker. Will this result in non-vegan-non-Scientologists thinking that Scientology is something that vegans do, or that veganism is something that Scientologists do?

Both Scientology and veganism are on the fringe, as defined by dominant culture. Whether or not it’s true in any individual case, people who aren’t vegan will associate the other fringe aspect of a vegan’s life with veganism.

When someone voices two distinct marginalized views in a society that is indifferent or hostile toward those views, they tend to get lumped together. It’s the bumper sticker effect. It may be that veganism or the other fringe element is seen to be the dominant element about a person—one may think, “Oh, being vegan is just something Scientologists do,” or, “Oh, Scientology is just something that vegans do.” Either way, it’s a lose/lose for veganism.

It could be rightly said that I’m unfairly picking on Scientology by using them as an example. Other examples could be used, of course. I’m writing specifically about marginal systems of irrational belief here—marginal in the sense that they have a small numbers of adherents—as opposed to mainstream, culturally dominant religions. I'm not saying here that mainstream religions have some greater claim to supernatural truth than do these marginal beliefs.[1]

I focus on marginal belief systems here because they are viewed by dominant culture as on the fringe, far beyond what the average person would believe.

Given this, lumping veganism in with marginal belief systems hurts veganism. It may well be the case that the inverse is true, that the lumping hurts the marginal belief system, but that’s not my concern here. I wish to see veganism, an ethic of justice for all sentient beings, to proliferate beyond the fringe. As such, I desire to see veganism associated with the mainstream values it already reinforces. I’m not arguing that vegans should instead hitch the vegan wagon onto major religions, but that vegans shouldn’t hitch the wagon of veganism onto anything other than the idea that we should not cause the suffering and death of other-than-human animals when we don’t need to. Nothing else is required.

This argument also goes for the bumper sticker effect that is observed when raw food and other dietary restrictions, myriad new age beliefs, and “woo” are lumped in with veganism.

Regarding the extraneous dietary restrictions that get associated with veganism when vegans advocate them, vegan and registered dietitian Ginny Messina writes:

Advocating diets that incorporate unnecessary nutrition-related restrictions makes it harder for people to go vegan. That goes for fat-free, soy-free, and raw foods diets. Sometimes these variations on veganism are perceived as steps in the same dietary evolution. They aren’t. Veganism is an ethical choice and it’s a diet that is healthful and appropriate at all stages of the lifecycle. Raw foodism is a fad diet that is appropriate only for adults and is based on shaky scientific principles at best. Fatfree veganism is a therapeutic diet for adults with health problems—and as I’ve noted before, it’s not necessarily the ideal approach.

An example of someone who utilizes “woo,” which Wikipedia defines as, “a term used by scientific skeptics for pseudoscience, alternative medicine and New Age beliefs,” is advocate and author of The World Peace Diet, Will Tuttle.

Tuttle co-founded Circle of Compassion, which runs a prayer circle website. On the site, an essay Tuttle authored with co-founder Judy Carman says, “Those of us who saw the film What the Bleep Do We Know? learned, or probably already knew, that our thoughts create energy fields that can affect matter in powerful ways.”

This is what is meant by “woo.” Aside from utilizing junk science and selectively interpreting good science in order to propagate a spiritual worldview, What the Bleep Do We Know? has intractable ties to a sect which believes that a woman, Judy “JZ” Knight, channels a 35,000 warrior named Ramtha.

The claims made in the movie are not supported by science.

Tuttle and Carman continue,

What we are proposing is that we all increase the power of these [animal advocacy] actions exponentially by uniting our focused thoughts on this single phrase at least once a day: “Compassion encircles the earth for all beings everywhere.” Imagine this phrase—this vision—being brought into the minds and hearts of millions of people each and every day and thus generating an energy field of compassion around the world.

I have to wonder why, if this sort of thing works, Tuttle and Carman don’t ask people to focus their thoughts on this phrase multiple times per day, or perhaps focus their thoughts on nothing but this phrase all day long. (I know that Tuttle does not do this, himself. He's a tireless advocate for peace, touring all over the place in order to spread the message of radical inclusiveness detailed in his book, The World Peace Diet.)

This concept that Tuttle and Carman put forth is, of course, similar to the Christian concept of the power of prayer: Pray, and Jesus will answer. Again, I’m not claiming that one way is closer or less close to the “right way.” That’s not the point I’m making here.

The Catholic concept of a wafer magically turning into the flesh of a god because an ordained man in a robe says some words to it is pretty darn out there when you step back and look at it. But the fact remains that Catholics are a respected demographic in our culture. One can’t simply say, when trying to determine how best to advocate on behalf of other-than-human animals, that since the majority of society believes in an all-powerful spiritual being or beings, then statements like the ones Tuttle and others make in regard to vegan advocacy should be treated as just another way of viewing our spiritual relation to reality.

Put another way, in the public relations fight between Jesus and Ramtha, Jesus is winning by a lot, and his odds are great to keep on winning for the foreseeable future. I happen to think that vegans shouldn’t bet on either of them, but if you do bet on the one who has little to no odds of winning, maybe just … keep it to yourself while advocating for other-than-human animals?

Carman and Tuttle write that their books, “can help you educate people about how activism and spiritual work are inextricably linked with animal rights issues. For example, world peace and personal inner peace cannot be attained among human beings as long as we are violently dominating, exploiting, and eating our animal kin.”

I agree with the second sentence, but I wonder what inner and world peace have to do with spiritual work. Spirituality is the belief in non-physical things. Inner peace and world peace are real, physical matters. I need no spiritual belief in order to advocate on behalf of animals and I take offense at the claim that I do.[2]

Veganism requires no more faith than is required when we see a dog yelping in pain and say, “That dog is in pain.”[3] There’s a preponderance of scientific evidence to back up that claim of pain. On the other hand, there’s a poverty of scientific evidence to suggest that merely thinking about something can change it, or that a woman can channel a 35,000 year old warrior, or that raw foods are always healthier than cooked foods, or that oil has no place in healthy diets.

Vegans may do well to keep a large gap between their advocacy of veganism and their advocacy of other fringe beliefs and actions, especially when those beliefs and actions are supported neither by the culture at large or by anything close to the scientific evidence which supports veganism.

[1] For what it’s worth, if I were to make a claim at all in this regard, I would claim that all supernatural claims are equally, patently false.
[2] I am aware of the humor of this statement, considering that it appears within a piece sure to offend many people.
[3] Substitute any animal you want for “dog” in this statement, including “human.”

Conversion Narrative in Veganism

The following is part two of a three-part series I wrote quite a while back. There was a chance that these were going to be published in an upcoming anthology in which a separate essay (by me) having nothing to do with religion will appear, but it didn't pan out (nobody's fault and no hard feelings). Honestly, I'm sort of OK with these mini-essays not being published, since they are sure to irk people in a way that I don't necessarily feel comfortable irking. 

The previous essay in this series, Religion and Vegan Advocacy, received a couple comments that deserve a response. I plan to write a separate post addressing these and any other comments I get on this second installment and the eventual third installment. 

OK. Here's the essay now. 

Oh wait, one more thing. If these essays had actually made it to the point of being published, I can assure you that they would have been edited and re-edited and fleshed out and would just be plain better (because my editors are rock-stars, that's why). So ... now that I've sufficiently lowered expectations, here you go!


The words “convert” and “conversion” come up a lot when vegans talk about choosing to be vegan. In many ways, this makes sense. In others, it’s problematic.

In what way is this conversion narrative a positive?

First, it’s something that just makes sense. Everyone knows what conversion means: in the simplest sense, it’s changing from one thing to another. When non-vegans choose to be vegan, that’s a type of conversion. Often, it can feel like a religious conversion; something akin to a spiritual awakening. As one blogger writes:

People often ask me why I made the decision to go vegan. I can point to certain events leading up to that moment that are helpful in explaining how I got here, but at the same time, when I really think about it, it’s almost as if it wasn’t a choice at all … What I mean is that it was almost like I had been asleep before and suddenly I woke up and saw the cruelty and suffering around me; being vegan seemed like something I simply had to do. 

I’m sure that many vegans can relate to this. I know I can.

This blogger may not have used the word “conversion,” and maybe that was intentional on her part, but the above quote still falls under the umbrella of what I mean when I refer to conversion language.

One could imagine Paul—formerly Saul—saying something similar about his conversion on the road to Damascus: “All of a sudden, I saw a light and I woke up.”

Sentiments such as these are all over the internet. One blog, The Vegan Light Bulb, has the tag line, “Stop looking at the shadows and look into the light!” Another blog is called My Vegan Awakening. James McWilliams even has a "Vegan Conversion Narrative" series on his blog.[1]

The word conversion is apt when describing the change from one ideology to another, and so I submit that the use of the word when talking about the change to veganism is technically correct. When one chooses to be vegan, it could be said that they are rejecting the ideology of speciesism and embracing equal consideration of other-than-human animals. Veganism could be said to be the ideology of this embrace.

That said, it’s important to consider what problems arise from use of the conversion narrative.

By framing veganism as a conversion, vegans present veganism as something ideologically different from what non-vegans believe. Conversion language doesn’t give enough weight to that fact that many people already agree, to an extent, with the precept that unnecessary killing of animals is wrong. The conversion narrative presents veganism as an ideology that is wholly different from the way non-vegans already view animals, but in many cases, this is not true.

The word conversion is also closely—perhaps intrinsically—tied to religion in our culture. For reasons that I state in my post, Religion and Vegan Advocacy, I see this as a problem.

Another pitfall of the conversion narrative is that most people don’t want to be converted. Most people are happy with who they are. When a non-vegan hears a vegan talking about their conversion, they may see it as this odd metaphysical shift instead of a simple decision made for rational reasons; reasons the non-vegan may likely be able to identify with.

If the problems of the conversion narrative outweigh the positives, and I think they do, then what easy-to-understand alternative could vegans use when describing their transition to veganism?

Carol Adams has used a different term to describe the act of becoming vegan in her book Living Among Meat Eaters. She refers to non-vegetarians as “blocked vegetarians”[2] and the process of becoming vegetarian as becoming “unblocked.” Living Among Meat Eaters is obviously a book geared toward people who already eschew animal flesh (a point Adams reinforces within the book), but it’s worth asking whether or not vegans should use the blocked/unblocked language when speaking to non-vegans.

Non-vegans may bristle at the notion that they’re blocked and somehow less connected to their minds than vegans are. Additionally, this term has caused a few vegans I know to refer this the book as a little too “woo” for their liking, meaning that its language takes on a new age feel and/or seems to be rooted in nonscientific thought.

If “unblocked” seems to exchange religion for woo—which may work for some, but not for others—then what other word or phrase could be used to talk about our transitions to veganism?

Vegans may appeal to a broader set of people when, instead of using conversion language, they say something like, “I chose to be vegan because…” This frames our actions simply as a choice.

It’s true that “conversion” also denotes a choice, but it carries baggage. It also suggests, because of its close association with religion, that vegans substitute one faith-based way of thinking with another faith-based way of thinking.

Veganism is a rational choice that most people are capable of making. Framing that choice as a conversion, though, may keep them from seeing it that way.

[1] This essay was written before McWilliams started the "Vegan Conversion Narrative" series, so that name and the name of this mini-essay is nothing more than coincidence. I just decided to add a reference to his series in at the last minute here since it seemed to fit so well. 
[2] In this book, Adams uses the word “vegetarian” to refer to vegetarians and vegans.

Religion and Vegan Advocacy

The following is part one of a three-part series I wrote a few months ago. There was a chance that these were going to be published in an upcoming anthology (in which a separate essay having nothing to do with religion will appear), but it didn't pan out. So I'm publishing them here instead. 

Should animal advocates use religion to promote veganism?

The majority of religious belief depends on the idea of hierarchy, chiefly the belief that we humans are given value by and should humble ourselves before someone or something that is ostensibly “greater than us”—be that a deity, deities, religious leaders, or a collection of metaphysical doctrines.

If there is a being[1] who is greater than humans, then by default that means humans are lesser beings. If humans are lesser than that higher power, then it’s not too large of a leap to reason that there are others who are lesser still. This way of thinking (that other = lesser) has been employed to justify racism, sexism and every other oppression throughout human history. While many religious people have come to see those oppressions as unjust, it was not due to their religious traditions that this has happened[2]. Instead, it was due to the rational, logical argument that skin color and sex, for two examples, are not valid characteristics to take into account when deciding whether or not it’s OK to treat a being as someone with lesser intrinsic value.

In the same vein, religious texts and traditions generally don’t support the idea that animals are due equal consideration, and so they would likely not be the true cause of the embrace of veganism among the faithful.

Animal rights philosophy holds that there is no such thing as “greater” or “lesser” when it comes to the interests of animals in avoiding pain and continuing life[3]. It seems strange, then, to hold veganism up as a religion, or to incorporate the language of religion within veganism, when religion has historically been a major perpetrator of the greater/lesser divide.

Marjorie Spiegel writes in The Dreaded Comparison, “By eliminating the oppression of animals from the fabric of our culture, we begin to undermine some of the psychological structures inherent in a society which seems to create and foster ‘masters’” (28-29).

Or as blogger Randy Sandberg has said, “I’m an atheist because I do not believe in superior beings and I am vegan because I don’t believe in inferior ones either.”

Much as David Neibert’s Animal Rights, Human Rights and Bob Torres’ Making a Killing question whether or not one can be opposed to speciesism while supporting capitalism, activists should ask themselves whether or not they can effectively oppose the hierarchy of speciesism, while embracing the hierarchical institutions of religion. 

It should be noted that certain forms of religions have historically opposed oppression of certain forms. A basic precept of Buddhism is non-harm, for example. But most Buddhists are not vegan. The 14th Dalai Lama isn’t vegan or vegetarian. So while a belief system like Buddhism seems to be an ideal institution within which veganism would thrive, the majority of its adherents still value trivial human interests above the very non-trivial interests of animals. This fact alone should be enough to cast serious doubt upon any religion’s ability to fully embrace and promote veganism.

I don’t mean to suggest that personal belief in deities or metaphysical doctrines should preclude one from choosing to be vegan. And I’m fully aware that many people come to veganism through what they would consider spiritual or religious routes. What I’m suggesting here is that religion need not be used as a way to argue for veganism and that if activists are serious about opposing hierarchy and oppression, it might be a good idea to take a hard long look at the religion they belong to and ask if its teachings line up with their stated beliefs.

Activists should also be wary of entangling religion with veganism because it has the effect of excluding all who aren’t adherents of the specific religion they’re utilizing as an outreach tool.

The Christian Vegetarian Association (CVA), for example, makes several points about the biblical case for veganism—though they confusingly refer to it as vegetarianism. If one is Hindu and reads the CVA site, she may wonder what in the world this has to do with her. She needs to be Christian in order for the Christian biblical argument for veganism to apply to her.

The Society of Religious and Ethical Vegetarians, in their Judaism and Vegetarianism question and answer page, responds to a question about whether a move toward vegetarianism would mean moving the focus away from kosher laws. They answer, “Quite the contrary. One of the purposes of the laws of kashrut is reverence for life. Another purpose is to avoid pagan practices, which often involved much cruelty to animals and people.”

So, just to be clear, there’s no moral obligation for Pagans to be vegan? 

Legal scholar and animal rights philosopher Gary Francione makes the case on a blog post that, “the movement to abolish animal exploitation should be part of a larger movement for Ahimsa, or non-violence.” The Ahimsa that Francione refers to is the Jain principle of non-harm which exists for the purpose of increasing good karma and liberating a soul from reincarnation. The value of incorporating such religious terminology into vegan advocacy is questionable at best. Someone who has no knowledge of the principle of Ahimsa still can easily grasp the concept of non-violence, though may balk at the idea of karma and reincarnation. Why then include within an argument for veganism a religious term that is limiting in scope? Ahimsa refers to a specific principle of a specific belief system, but as far as praxis goes, it means the same thing as non-violence. Given that, it’s confusing as to why Francione, who has otherwise crafted a logical argument for animal rights, doesn’t just take religious language out of conversation and stick with the broadly appealing language of non-violence and justice.[4]

There are, of course, arguments for veganism from most religious perspectives. But does each religion have to incorporate veganism within it’s teachings in order to convince its adherents to go vegan?

It’s understood that people view the world through the various lenses of their religions. But this doesn’t mean that activists need to imprint veganism upon each of those lenses. First of all, there’s no reason to believe that it will work. Since the majority of religious leaders are not vegan, it’s too easy for adherents to dismiss arguments for veganism. If veganism was really what their religion demanded of them, the defense would go, their holy leaders would already be vegan. Secondly, veganism stands on it’s own just fine. It doesn’t need to be incorporated into a religion and it doesn’t require buttressing by the language of religion. A simple, honest argument for veganism is compelling and has the potential to appeal broadly to believers and non-believers alike. Activist should look critically at the desire to muddy that argument with interpretation of holy texts, traditions and guesses as to what deities would prefer. Instead of spending time trying to reverse engineer religions to make them fit veganism, activists may be better off crafting messages that not only drive home the point that unnecessary harm is wrong for reasons that are self-evident, but also focus on the myriad ways in which animal use is, indeed, unnecessary.

Should the argument for veganism be based upon amorphous supernatural belief? Or should it be presupposed upon immutable, observable, fact-based, logic-based evidence?

As an atheist, I obviously lean toward the latter.

Alas, like the religious, the majority of atheists don’t embrace veganism. For many, the atheist view that there is no gods ends up elevating humanity to the position of god within the hierarchy of being. Since there is no god, the argument goes, humans make the rules and can rightly position themselves at the pinnacle of the chain of being. Anthropocentrism either goes unexamined or is celebrated. The appeal to nature fallacy is embraced as a defense of the status quo.

Fortunately, skepticism often goes hand-in-hand with atheism as well. Many skeptics take a look at the institution of speciesism and see it as one of unnecessary oppression.

Mary Martin, author of the blog “Animal Person,” writes: 

"Vegans usually have spent quite a bit of time exploring our relationship with nonhuman animals and making a conscious decision to go against the mainstream. And atheists who were parented by believers have usually spent time examining the religion they were raised in as well as why we'd believe there is a god at all. I see these counter-culture positions as parallel and based on the same evolution of thought and deconstruction of the stories of childhood."

Again, none of this is to say that one can’t be vegan and religious. But as advocates, we ought to be cognizant of the extra layers we needlessly add to the argument for animals rights when we use religious terms and religious arguments in our advocacy.

Advocates should seriously consider leaving religion out of the conversation regardless of the personal religious views of either party—the advocate and advocated to. Most people, regardless of religious belief, are not going to argue against the statement that it’s wrong to inflict unnecessary harm upon animals. Religion-specific codes of ethics and morality may come into play further into individual conversations about veganism, but when the dialogue isn’t presupposed upon them, the argument for veganism as a general moral obligation is stronger. 

[1] Or beings. I’ll stick with the singular in this essay simply for flow’s sake.
[2] Despite what they may claim. Also, it’s important to recognize that it’s probably not because of religion that those oppressions initially occurred, but that religion was likely created and molded to justify and enshrine the pre-existing oppression of others.
[3] That’s a statement that needs to be qualified. Animal rights philosopher Tom Regan, for example, maintains that human interest in continuation of life counts for more than, say, a dog’s, since the average human is the subject of an ostensibly more complex and fulfilling inner life, and potential future, than are other animals. For the purposes of this essay, though, I defer to Gary Francione’s view of animal rights, which maintains that sentience is all which is required in order for one animal to have equal inherent value to another.
[4] In fairness to Francione, it’s worth noting that in Introduction to Animal Rights, he wrote in reference to “the basic right not to be treated as a thing and the concept of equal inherent value,” that, “neither of these concepts involves anything that requires our acceptance of any metaphysical doctrines. All that is required is logic” (93) …

These Thy Gifts...

I'm atheist, so I don't think my family would ever ask me to say grace before a meal. But if they did...

(click to view larger size)

Comic from Abtruse Goose.

(hat tip to Vegan.com)

The Changing Landscape of Religion in America

I suggest everyone read this Associated Press article that details the changing face of religion in America. It's an interesting read with some pretty suprising statistics. Did you know that atheists in America outnumber Buddhists, Muslims and Jews combined?

Here are a couple paragraphs that relate directly to me:

The majority of the unaffiliated -- 12 percent of the overall population -- describe their religion as "nothing in particular," and about half of those say faith is at least somewhat important to them. Atheists or agnostics account for 4 percent of the total population.

The Roman Catholic Church has lost more members than any faith tradition because of affiliation swapping, the survey found. While nearly one in three Americans were raised Catholic, fewer than one in four say they're Catholic today. That means roughly 10 percent of all Americans are ex-Catholics.

I knew there were a lot of ex-Catholics out there, but 10 percent of all Americans? Wow.

Oh, and if you want to check out a couple stories about the increasing atheist presence (if that sounds ominous to you, then you probably don't know much about atheism) in the US and Europe check these out.

The first paragraph at that link is just down-right silly, but the rest of the story is pretty good.