MetaKnigel If the Rule is Broken–Break It.

Confessions of a Vegan Meat-Eater

Written by Knigel Holmes

Twice have I been unable to defend my arguments for consuming meat. While I resisted at first, in the end, my opponents persuaded me into vegetarianism. They countered my points showing me how I either contradicted myself or used flippant comments to deflect. No single argument convinced me into abstaining from animal products; vegetarianism is a lifestyle built from diverse arguments including those of ethics, economics, and health. The arguments supporting vegetarianism are persuasive and rational; however, I will explain why, after being a vegetarian for so long, I not only murder and eat animals, but that my ethical choice withstands vegetarian righteousness and encourages me to eat less conventional animals—such as insects, octopuses, and dogs.

My first experiment with vegetarianism taught me esoteric knowledge giving me insight beyond the ignorant mainstream. My natural distrust for government and business helped me grasp vegetarian concepts and then apply them to my new worldview. Having researched in depth—not necessary before as an omnivore—I saw my choice as undoubtedly superior. Convinced meat-eaters either wilfully ignorant or lazy, I waited patiently—like a carnivorous plant—to entrap my prey. Ordering vegetarian dishes was enough to lure victims into engaging me in debate. I mauled; then digested the encounters—each giving me ferocity for future confrontations.

This first bout with vegetarianism lasted two years ending for the sake of living in Cuba. With The United States continuing an illegal economic embargo punishing the Cuban population, the Cuban government rations food so that no one starves; unfortunately, this does not ease the dearth of resources. A vegetarian diet was impractical—if not impossible—while living in the small Holguín barrio. Moreover, my Cuban host father, Manuel, challenged my animal rights ideology. Through ongoing dialogue, I realised that much of my vegetarian philosophy derived from first world luxuries that could not satisfactory compete with strife from those who endured the economic hardships during “the special period”. Cubans struggled for basic nutrition, and I implied that they were immoral for doing so. Despite my ethnocentricity, I kept my vegetarian philosophy. Instead of accepting meat consumption as moral, my discordance between belief and behaviour left me in cognitive dissonance.

I then committed two acts of murder. One evening with Manuel teaching at the University; the eldest son, Victor, in the military; and the youngest son, Alejandro, at school; I was alone with my host mother, Carmen, and a nameless chicken. Carmen and I communicated despite our language barrier; however, I knew too little Spanish to refuse breaking the chicken’s neck. Unable to discuss the nuances of philosophy, I wrestled the chicken into the sink and did the chore. Carmen—judging by her mischievous smirk—gained perverse satisfaction from watching me go against my morals; however, this was the culture—patriarchal or not—I was the man of the house. The chicken, in on the joke, deciding not to die; instead threw a fit leaving me asking “¿a morir o no morir?” repeatedly. Keeling over in laughter, and instead of answering the question, Carmen explained between her gasps for air that I was asking “to die or not to die” instead of “is it dead or isn’t it?” My broken Spanish more clearly stated the hidden truth of the situation: to die, or not to die; to kill, or not to kill. I realised my responsibility as an active killer.

While it was a conflicting experience, this existential incident removed my hesitance for killing animals. A few months later, I went to see Manuel’s father. His farm was magnificent; such vibrant green during the day, and the stars during the night were not lonely dots, but spilt milk. This farm was perfection; all animals content with the pecking order were free to roam around, yet the vicious and gentle slept together. There would be no animal revolution here. The natural order here contrasted the horrors of factory farming back home. I felt privileged to visit, and was also given the honour of killing a goat for lunch. Manuel and his father separated one goat from the herd and then lead the herd away as to not spook them. Next, we strung the goat upside down. With knife, I looked into the goat’s horizontal pupil straining against the corner of its socket. It breathed in panicked deep gasps. Its chest pulsed with life. Taking hold of its horn, I slit its throat releasing the warm gushing blood down, over my hand, and into a bowl. It was quickly served for lunch. No sauce, no spices; straight meat on bone. Neither before, nor after, have I eaten anything as delicious. At that moment, I felt no qualms about killing and eating an animal—I became comfortable. I no longer felt wrongness. With full knowledge that anthropomorphism is not a valid justification for murder, I would not pretend to have some sort of spiritual connection with the animal that gave me the right to kill it. I did, however, feel an idyllic moment giving me a profound understanding through intuition. Without considering the essential criticisms of my emotional conclusions, I felt a complete rightness. Someone was going to kill the goat; therefore, if I was going to eat meat, I had to reject my pre-packaged supermarket culture, and accept the honesty of looking my victim in the eye. I have the utmost respect for the hunter, and the sickest loathing for the blissfully ignorant meat-eaters who leave the dirty work to others. There is no evidence of intrinsic morality, yet we must responsibly design our own moral compasses.

Despite these convictions, I became a vegan a few years after returning from Cuba. This second experiment intensified my resolve that eating meat was unethical. After a while, I did not lose debates. I distilled conversations into scripts while predicting rebuttals. By weaponising my argumentative tools for the higher purpose of persuading and challenging attitudes, I convinced myself that my militancy was just, and only had to find tactful—or not so tactful—ways to convince people to have the courage and willpower to change. How could I not be outspoken? Accepting the premise that animals suffer, and realising how many we slaughter daily, our society becomes much more atrocious than that of Nazi Germany. Debating with people, I explained how vegetarianism was healthier for them, humane for the animals, and more ethical for society. I described how the diet was not so hard once getting used to it, and how much happier I was since changing. Their silence, lack of satisfactory rebuttal, and frustrated anger proved I was right.

I was wrong. While I thought I had all arguments, I later found new ones that, while not contradicting all previous arguments for a vegetarian lifestyle, did offer valid reasons for eating meat. Mainly, my life became International. Vegetarianism is not only an inconvenience while travelling; it is rude and shoots down opportunities. The same ethnocentric arrogance that I felt in Cuba followed me into Asia. Food and culture intertwine; to reject food is to reject the culture. To say a food is wrong is to say that the culture is wrong. While locals forgive differences, they tend to distance themselves from foreigners who do not take the same joy of breaking bread—Koreans, for example, often share one bowl of soup. Moreover, to really experience a culture, a traveler must not only adapt, but also be open to local cuisine. Food has history. People are proud of what they can offer to foreigners. I am uncomfortable telling a grandmother that I cannot eat what she has made for me. Enjoying traditional dishes with Koreans increases “Jeong”, a fundamental Korean concept of closeness, familiarity, and love.
While faith in a deity has no substance, there is significant substance in experiencing life. We have but one life, and enjoying food is a spiritual experience. I challenge myself while experiencing unique situations that not everyone is able to. I have eaten dog soup, scorpions, and sea horses. I hated silk worms, loved writhing living octopuses, and would eat human flesh during a tribal ceremony. Each meal enriches my life, brings me closer to others, and teaches me more about myself. Diverse eating inspires me to live actively instead of passively.

At the same time, while vegetarianism is merely one ethical conclusion, we need to act thoughtfully while accepting moral responsibilities. We ought to question our culture, to research vegetarianism and, if possible, try to eat as little meat as possible while looking for ways to treat animals more humanely. Discussion is essential; however, righteously assuming meat-eaters lack ethical consideration is irrational. This prejudice alienates more than it convinces. Thoughtfulness is fundamental to living ethically; therefore, discussion needs to invoke thoughtfulness. We have to see past the superficial reasons to see that people have a difficult-to-explain history. We live with guilt, yet to better the world in one way, we damage it in another. Holier-than-thou attitudes divide potential allied groups because these attitudes neglect people’s own prioritised pet issues. Some fight for animal rights, some protest the government, and some care for children.

In sum, ethics cannot be reduced to a series of points and counter points, nor can we allow our intuitions to go unchecked. Some logic looks better written neatly on paper than it does in real life; conversely, our intuitions are prone to error. While we cannot be responsible without being sceptical of our assumptions, we cannot ignore the situational decision-making required in the moment. Ethical choices grow from how we experience life and how we intuitively understand situations. We must continuously question our attitudes because they influence our future choices; however, at the same time, it is irresponsible to look down on people who have not arrived at our own conclusions. Challenge others, but as equals. In the end, my experiments have expanded my ethical and intellectual understanding; my philosophy would have been much more shallow if I had not experimented with different lifestyles. Some cognitive dissonances cannot be completely resolved; however, this liminal state creates the necessary tension to think about ethics actively. My only regret comes from assuming superiority and allowing myself to be judgemental. There is no evidence of absolute good or evil, but there are diverse paths to ethical living.