When we tell the truth, we have no need for evasions. Get rid of the labels. All other beings have a right to life and not one of them belongs to us. That’s veganism in a nutshell and it’s the easiest, simplest way to live. Be vegan.
Labels are an arbitrary thing. They can be informative, but they can also
manipulate and they do so shamelessly. For instance, they provide only that
information that the creator of the label wishes to convey, and what a label
omits can be every bit as telling as what it includes. If I wished to sell a
commodity, I would ensure that the label I create for that commodity
includes only information that shows my product in a good light. Of course
some information that may be slightly less favourable must sometimes be
included to comply with legislation, and that’s where ‘small print’ comes
in, usually so small as to be off-putting for any but the most determined
reader.
So labels are not the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. They
are a tool, a manipulative ploy to ensure that behaviour complies with some
designated pattern or that our consumer power is directed in a particular
way. We put our faith in them at our peril.
Labels and compartments
I was raised to label and then compartmentalise members of other species. I
suspect most of us were. Looking back, I can understand now why it was such
a necessary part of my childhood. Why? Well, it was only this process that
made the ludicrous inconsistencies of the myths and nonsense I was taught,
seem remotely sensible. Those who taught me were no doubt repeating by rote
the same myths that they had been taught, and in fact the same myths and
nonsense that I then passed on to my own children. I cannot apportion blame
for this although I regret that neither they, nor I, challenged it sooner.
But that’s past and can’t be changed. We need to move on.
So why was this compartmentalisation necessary? Even in the distant days of
my own childhood, children’s books, songs and rhymes featured lots of cutesy
animals of every species, all of them clearly individuals, all of them cast
as sentient. In keeping with most literature aimed at the very young, there
was usually a moral lesson to some extent – even if it involved only basic
notions of being ‘good’ and ‘kind’ and ‘obedient’ and the mishaps that would
befall those who did not comply. There was virtually no children’s TV in
those days but we all recall the classic Disney films with their sweet,
innocent, thinking, talking, feeling animals of every species.
Yes, I was raised on a literary and media diet of sentient, wise and
friendly animals, and a literal diet of dead animals, the pathetic earthly
remains of individuals whose lives had been stolen long before they ended up
on my plate.
Explanations and other lies
When I say it like that, it’s not at all surprising that I didn’t understand
how this could possibly make sense. Not until the compartmentalisation
kicked in that is, along with the sickening phrase ‘bred for eating’ amongst
others. Of course along with that one came a whole load of nonsense
explanations, about how the animals ‘didn’t mind’ and they ‘weren’t hurt’.
What child would not want to believe these blatant fabrications? What infant
has the intellect to challenge and debate? And what parent will listen and
consider the questions logically instead of repeating the traditional
responses? Very few.
One topic I frequently return to, is my continuing lack of comprehension
about the persistence of the myths about animal use, into adulthood and in
many cases throughout our lives. It baffles me because when we drop our
guards and allow common sense to flood in, we cannot help but realise how
flimsy and inconsistent they are. And yet, we still raise children on a
literary and media diet of cute, sentient animals of every species, named
individuals to whom they relate warmly, and who weave morality and ethics in
infant portions into their tales and adventures. Our children still drift
off to dreamland with their innocent arms wrapped round fluffy pigs, lambs,
bunnies and chickens; we share their joy when they recognise and repeat the
farmyard sounds of the nursery tales.
Those awkward questions
When they begin to ask those awkward questions that we frequently have not
faced up to ourselves, we figuratively supply them with a pile of labels.
Although when I did this, I was unaware that this was what I was doing, we
encourage the allocating of labels and categories – to some nonhumans as
‘pets’, to some as ‘farm animals’, to some as ‘wild animals’ etc. There are
sub-divisions of all of these categories to which we assign further labels
(to cope with more persistent enquiries) like ‘bred for food’, ‘dairy cows’,
‘chickens for eggs’, ‘sheep for wool’, and so the lies take shape and
develop layers of complexity.
The truth about our morally unjustifiable and completely unnecessary
behaviour is actually so well hidden that in most cases we have to actively
seek it out, very few stumble on it accidentally.
Once we do make this discovery, it can feel like we’re teetering on the
brink of a chasm of nightmares, blood and gore; gazing into the yawning
mouth of a hell that echoes deafeningly with a cacophony of screams so far
removed from our infant days of the farmyard sounds that every fibre of our
being recoils in horror. So gut-churningly vile is the truth of the
behaviour of our species that many of us can’t help but dismiss the
revelation. We shy away and tell ourselves that it can’t be true; it’s too
awful; there are laws against that sort of thing; if it was that bad, why is
everyone else okay with it? And we resort to the infant myths that gave us
solace the last time we asked those awkward questions.
Facing the truth
As a vegan advocate, I know that probably most of us, on stumbling on the
truth, will retreat to our comfort zones and continue to support the vile
and pervasive worldwide network of animal use that is driven by consumer
demand. As long as we view helpless, innocent and vulnerable individuals as
resources and commodities, despite the proven fact that we can live and
thrive without causing harm, we will need to continue to hide the truth from
our children. They arrive with clear sighted innocence that we are then
compelled to corrupt to ensure their participation in a nightmare. As a
parent, this is the burden that my conscience can never escape.
Ironically, one of the life lessons I remember being taught is that ‘a good
liar has to have a good memory’. Conversely when we tell the truth, we have
no need for evasions. Get rid of the labels. All other beings have a right
to life and not one of them belongs to us. That’s veganism in a nutshell and
it’s the easiest, simplest way to live. Be vegan.