Most people consider themselves to love animals. We acknowledge them not as mere objects, but as intricate beings with whom we share our homes, lives, and planet. We find joy in their happiness, anguish over their distress, and celebrate their intelligence and uniqueness as we embrace them in our families or admire them in nature. To many, the idea of causing them unnecessary suffering or harm is unbearable. So, for the animals who feed, entertain, or clothe us, we adopt a narrative that reduces or altogether overlooks their suffering. The idyllic family farm and the beloved, compassionate farmer. A painless and humane end, a small price willingly borne for a life well lived. A mutually advantageous arrangement. Concealed within this narrative, however, they become invisible. Their individuality obscured, they are known simply as livestock — "faceless units of production in a system of incomprehensible scale", excluded from the protective measures that safeguard our companion animals. Their pain exists unheard and unseen. Their worth, assessed solely by their utility to humans, justified by a belief in our supremacy and the misguided notion that "might equals right". A notion that warrants great scrutiny and must be questioned (1).
Regardless of whether you consider yourself to love animals or not, the true question is whether or not you deem yourself an empathetic being with a moral duty to do what is ethically right. Many see veganism, the abstention from consuming or using animal products, as extreme (2). In this essay, however, I argue that perhaps it is, in fact, more extreme to claim to believe animals matter morally, only to inflict violence and suffering upon them without any justification besides convenience or culinary pleasure. Furthermore, it is extreme to overlook the fact that adopting a vegan diet could significantly mitigate, if not eradicate, world hunger and represent the most impactful individual action to combat the climate crisis (3). Inherently, veganism aligns with a philosophy that rejects the view of animals as mere commodities. As will be explored, there are countless reasons that such a philosophy could be seen as a moral obligation and could have a profoundly positive impact on oneself, the planet, and every being that calls Earth home.
In the West, prior to the 19th century, animals were mostly disregarded in the legal and moral communities. They were considered objects. This is in contrast with Eastern thinking, in which animals were usually bestowed some moral value - accounting for the ever-prevalent vegetarianism in the Hindu, Jain, and most Buddhist traditions. In the West, however, one could have legal and moral obligations concerning animals, but not owed to them. To harm animals presented a moral problem, not out of care for the animal, but rather because it increased the likelihood of harming another human. Any sort of moral obligation of kindness towards animals was non-existent. Kind treatment was only obliged towards other humans. This was the notion held by many philosophers, such as Thomas Aquinas and Immanuel Kant. Humans were legally obliged not to harm their neighbour's property - whether a chicken or a chair. However, that obligation was owed to the neighbour as the property's owner, not to the chicken or the chair. The lowly status of animals at times came from the theological belief that humans were the only beings "deemed to have been created in God's image". Primarily, however, cognition was the focus of the arguments that belied animals no status or rights. Supposedly, animals were not self-aware, rational, or able to utilise concepts, which justified our treatment of them as devoid of moral value (4).
In the early 19th century, this began to change. A paradigm shift occurred, brought about by several philosophers, one of whom was the law reformer and utilitarian philosopher, Jeremy Bentham. Bentham's primary argument was that the only necessary characteristic for moral significance was the capacity to suffer: 'The question is not, Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?' So, as long as an animal was subjectively aware or sentient and could suffer, its desire to not suffer held moral significance. Disregarding such suffering based on the species of the being involved was as morally indefensible as disregarding human suffering based on race (4).
Yet, while Bentham maintained that differences in cognition between nonhumans and humans were irrelevant as far as suffering was concerned, he considered them pertinent to the topic of killing animals. He argued that because animals lack self-awareness, they live in the present moment and lack any connection to a future self. In other words, they have no sense of what has been lost when we kill them. They are indifferent to the fact that we use and kill them; their concern lies solely in how we do so. By killing and eating them, he said, 'we are the better for it, and they are never the worse. They have none of those long-protracted anticipations of future misery which we have.' If it were true that, as Bentham maintained, animals lack an intrinsic interest in preserving their lives, and death poses no harm to them, then the act of killing animals would not inherently present a moral dilemma, provided we genuinely consider the animals' interests in avoiding suffering during the process of killing. Bentham's perspective, which asserts that animals possess a morally significant interest in avoiding suffering but lack an interest in prolonging their lives, is the typical stance embraced by most individuals and is echoed in the law. This viewpoint dismisses the notion that nonhuman animals qualify as persons - specifically, individuals with a morally significant interest in surviving. At the same time, it refutes the idea that animals are mere objects devoid of moral worth. Instead, they lie somewhere in between - quasi-persons - as animal rights author Gary Francione describes (4).
This ethical standpoint fails to acknowledge that sentience and a desire for a continued existence are tightly interwoven rather than distinct and divided concepts. Sentience guarantees ongoing survival and the perpetuation of conscious states. Claiming that a sentient being lacks an interest in sustained existence is akin to suggesting that a creature with eyes lacks a desire to keep seeing. Seeing is the function of an eye; perpetuating consciousness to sustain life is the essence of subjective awareness. The murder of a sentient being involves taking something of value from them, regardless of how they value it. We rob them of their sentience that was designed to protect them and the continuation of their conscious state. That inflicts harm upon the being. If the being is conscious in any way, the experience to be that being involves a strategy to stay alive. This requires no understanding of the animal's consciousness, which will likely never be agreed upon. It simply requires an understanding of consciousness. Every being with any consciousness is tethered to their future self, even if only in the following second of that future. They have a desire to reach that next moment. Their inherent existence as sentient beings and their tie to at least the following second of conscious experience fosters a sense of personal identity. Aside from humans who no longer wish to be conscious and kill themselves, this holds true for every being that is sentient. Whether they may or may not be tethered to the future to the same extent as the average adult human is unimportant. Despite Bentham's stance, contemplation of one's demise or death is not necessary in order to be self-aware (4).
One particular example that highlights this is the case of dementia patients. Many humans have late-stage dementia in which they are not only forgetful or extremely forgetful but usually lack any memories, cannot remember who they once were, are unable to recognise individuals with whom they were once close, and, importantly, cannot plan for the future. Like the argument put forth for animals, they are connected to their future self, yet only in the matter of wanting to reach the next moment of consciousness. Such humans are considered persons with a "morally significant interest in continuing to live", and substantial evidence is needed to challenge that assumption. Gary Francione presents a hypothetical situation involving two dementia patients - Fred and Sara. Fred has late-stage dementia and lives in an "eternal present" to the greatest extent that a human can. He has an extremely limited sense of the future (likely no more so than a mouse or dog) but is still a happy individual who enjoys each moment of his life despite not anticipating the next. It would be uncontroversial to claim Fred has a morally substantial stake in continuing to live. We deem Fred to have an existence with moral value and hence have moral obligations to protect him. Although we are not morally required to treat Fred identically to how we would treat a healthy human (we, in fact, have a responsibility not to), just as with every sentient human, we must treat Fred as having a right not to be solely exploited as a commodity. That is the baseline for possessing moral value. Fred is not an object. We cannot take his life, even if we 'humanely' kill him. We surmise Fred values his life in his own way, and we cannot speculate on his behalf; we assume he desires to keep living, even if he lacks sophisticated contemplation on the subject (4).
The moment we complicate the scenario by requiring Fred to have further cognitive characteristics to be given such moral value, we create an arbitrary mess. Does a morally significant distinction exist between Fred, who lacks memory and the ability to plan a future beyond his following second of consciousness, and Sara, who also has late-stage dementia yet can remember a minute past and plan a minute into the future? Does Sara have moral value while Fred doesn't? Would it be morally acceptable to kill Fred 'humanely' and not Sara? If the answer is yes to either of those questions, then such value supervenes at some point within the 59 seconds between Sara's one minute and Fred's one second. And at what point is that? After three seconds? Twelve? Thirty-four? Suppose the conclusion is that neither qualifies as having moral value and that the tie with a future self must be greater than one minute. In that case, the question becomes at which point is the connection with one's future self-adequate to attain moral value? Two hours? Thirteen? One day? Four?
When it involves humans, sentience suffices for moral value and a morally substantial desire to live. As Francione writes, "there is no reason – other than anthropocentrism – to treat the matter differently where nonhumans are concerned." Utilitarian Pete Singer explains that it is not a tragedy to prematurely kill cows as "there is nothing that they hope to achieve". But that is merely another way of saying that their lives do not matter because they lack the same aspirations as philosophy professors. This notion of animals' moral value need not mean all sentient beings are equivalent in every regard. Yet, it does signify that all sentient beings are considered equal for the specific purpose of not being exclusively utilised as a means of others' ends. We don't slaughter the severely demented for food, nor should we slaughter cows, pigs, and other animals. Meat is also not the only issue - there is no morally substantial distinction between meat, dairy, and eggs. Each of these products entails suffering and death (4).
As outlined above, slaughtering an animal "humanely" bears no greater moral significance or makes it any more acceptable to consume. Many still believe so, however. Aside from the reasons already explored, an additional factor disproves such a point. The reality is that the concept of "humane" is of no benefit to the animals themselves but rather to public consciousness and the economics of the industry. More often than not, it is the difference between "horrible and less horrible". Animals raised "organically" may, in fact, suffer more. Cows used to make organic milk are not allowed to receive antibiotics for the mastitis most dairy cows suffer from and, hence, are subject to greater pain and harm. "Organic" standards, thus, typically have no connection to welfare issues. The grass-fed cows, or free-range chickens, face similar living conditions to their factory farm counterparts, and all face the same end. The glaring difference is the packaging of their bodies or products that make consumers feel slightly better about their purchase (4).
Another argument for the animal industry is that, as through the Machiavellian lens, "the ends justify the means". As we have a need for animals and their products, the methods of attaining them can be justified. The reality is that the scale and inherent nature of the animal industry is one of pure frivolity. The animals we raise and kill for food represent the greatest portion of animal use. Each year, for food, we slaughter over 70 billion land animals and over 1 trillion sea animals. To put that into perspective, in a single year, we consume and kill more animals than the estimated amount of people who have ever lived. Is any of it necessary? Aside from scenarios where people are marooned on desert islands or in some way facing imminent starvation, there is no need for humans to consume animals or animal products. In fact, for the past few decades, numerous mainstream healthcare professionals have advised that not only are animal products unnecessary for human health, but they are actually detrimental to it. We consume animals and their products because we enjoy the taste and because we've been doing so for a very long time. There is no actual need for it, though. Countless food alternatives do not involve death or suffering and are less harmful to the body. Using animals for entertainment, clothing, and sports, among other purposes, is also unnecessary. Indeed, the majority, if not all, of our utilisation of animals serves no essential purpose. If we use "necessity" as a justification for animal exploitation and consumption, we find that most uses of animals run afoul of such an idea rather quickly (4). As Tolstoy wrote, "a man can live and be healthy without killing animals for food; therefore, if he eats meat, he participates in taking animal life merely for the sake of his appetite. And to act so is immoral." (5)
There is the point that life, by its very meaning, guarantees death - they define each other. We are each a part of the great circle of life. Living existence is a fluid equilibrium of survival and suffering. We may resist death to the best of our ability, yet in the end, every living being eventually succumbs. That every living creature will die is one of the only things we know for certain. This presents the question of how death can be defined as immoral if guaranteed for everything living at some point. A cow would die anyway, so what is the moral issue if we kill it and then at least have use for its death? Furthermore, there are countless examples in nature where animals kill other animals. In fact, most are immoral by the standards outlined above. Orcas and dolphins are known to taunt and play with their prey as they kill them. Lions rip baby gazelles to shreds. Chimpanzees sometimes eat their young. Many deeply intelligent creatures cause significant harm and death (6).
There are several holes in this argument. Firstly, there is one glaring difference between humans and such animals - we make moral decisions. As far as we know, there are no other animals that make such decisions. We are different in that we can even discuss or debate matters such as these moral questions. And arguably, with such power comes a certain responsibility and duty. Additionally, in both points, there is the factor of necessity and choice. Our consumption of animals is neither out of necessity nor lack of choice. We have the option not to do so. The deaths of these animals are significantly premature and, above all else, unnecessary. To compare ourselves to these animals also opens up the comparison of other aspects of these animals' lives. They commit rape, cannibalism and murder of their own kind; just because they do that, should we humans be able to as well? Comparing ourselves to such animals is no more relevant than comparing ourselves to sociopathic humans who are extremely violent with no remorse. The argument that death is natural and that it's "the circle of life" is all well and good until a child is murdered or one's pet dog is the one being sent to the slaughterhouse. It is clear that it holds no moral validity and stems from a place of anthropocentrism and self-centredness.
Some deem veganism too expensive or classist, hence complicating its validity as a moral obligation - it may cause difficulty for humans or be unattainable for those below a certain income. However, while it is true that many vegan meat or cheese alternatives may be more expensive than their animal-based counterparts, the amount is far from significant nowadays (7). Additionally, supermarkets' most affordable foods, such as vegetables, pulses, and grains, are often vegan. With the growing variety of more affordable vegan products, going vegan doesn't have to mean restriction to the cheapest and most basic goods either, if you are trying to stick to a budget. Additionally, the argument that veganism is classist in any way is somewhat ironic, considering that the grain given to the world's cattle alone is equal to 8.7 billion humans' caloric needs (8). For some reason, however, 795 million (one in nine) people are chronically malnourished. Furthermore, over 844 million people lack clean water, yet 1000 litres are used to produce just 1 litre of milk and 15,000 litres per kilogram of beef (1). To go vegan would mean opening up the possibility of allocating the crops and water towards growing food for the humans of the planet and not animals bred to be viciously murdered. It is, hence, also immoral to contribute towards an industry that takes up the land and crops that could easily end world hunger; it puts one's dietary preference over the lives of hundreds of millions.
Another critical factor that affects veganism's moral significance is the duty of humans as Earth's stewards. Earth is undergoing a sixth mass extinction, with one significant difference to the previous five - humans are driving it. For billions of years, life has persisted on our planet. It has withstood meteor strikes, mass flooding, and volcanic eruptions that have wiped out between 70% and 95% of species (9). Life has always prevailed in these inescapable circumstances. For the first time ever, however, the survival of life on Earth need not be up to odds - this mass extinction is escapable. Our current path need not be the one of the future. Oxford researchers found that adopting a plant-based is the single biggest way to reduce one's carbon footprint and could lead us to a peaceful future (10). There is a choice. And everyday, despite having a responsibility and moral duty to do so, we actively choose not to take it. Food production has converted 40% of the planet's land. 90% of global deforestation is attributed to agriculture, which also consumes 70% of the planet's freshwater. Consequently, it significantly alters habitats, devastating the species that rely on them (11). The way we produce our food, particularly our cultivation of animals, is one of the largest human-caused threats to our ecosystems and species. Some argue that the increase in soy consumption by those adopting a vegan diet is contributing to the demolishing of the Amazon rainforest. What many fail to realise, however, is that almost the entirety (80%) of the soy grown is not for humans but rather for the animals we eat (12).
These crops also lead to another crucial argument - that plants feel pain too, and thus, a vegan still causes harm and is immoral. Firstly, the sheer vastness of the crops needed to feed animals outlined above shows that being vegan would still mean killing fewer plants - it would involve consuming the crops directly rather than feeding an animal three times a day for several years to then eat that animal in one sitting. Adopting a vegan diet would mean consuming fewer plants and thus causing the least amount of suffering possible - making it the most moral choice. Additionally, there is the point that plants do not have a central nervous system or a brain; the animals we eat do. And yes, we may be unable to understand the true scope of a plant's existence, yet were one to place a chick and a banana in a blender, they would surely see the difference. Likewise, if one thinks taking a knife to a pig or a tomato bears no distinction, then there is no point in convincing them of any moral perspective as they clearly lack basic human reasoning. The argument that the animal is already dead and, hence, it is not immoral to consume fails just as quickly upon a simple lesson in the economics of supply and demand.
It is not a matter of ameliorating treatment or finding better ways to do something wrong. Smaller stocking densities, bigger cages, less painful gas; none of it changes the ending. Even though the characters in The Hunger Games get to live lavish weeks in the most beautiful quarters and are fed the most decadent food, nothing changes the fact that, eventually, they have to go into an arena and murder each other. We tell ourselves that these animals have led good lives, and when it comes to their deaths, they don't know what's coming, that they don't feel a thing. Yet, they do. In their last hours, minutes, and seconds, they are always afraid; they always feel pain. The stench of blood. The screams of fellow members of their species, companions with whom their lives were shared. Not for a moment do they show a desire or willingness to die, but rather, a profound desperation to live, frantically fighting until their final breath. And they are never shown kindness or mercy; instead, they are laughed at, mocked, beaten, kicked, and tossed like rag dolls. We rob them of their children. We rob them of their freedom. We rob them of their lives. We send them whole and healthy into a slaughterhouse to emerge on the other side as packaged pieces; then, we convince ourselves that at some point along the way, something morally sound and humane happened. And atop it all, we harm ourselves (1).
We rip our environment to shreds, demolishing forests and massacring native animals to make space for farms. We emit more greenhouse gases from animal agriculture than any other industry. We burden our healthcare system with millions of deaths that could have been prevented. And we continue to justify our consumption of animals as necessary, normal, and natural. We deem the animal kingdom, or at least most species within it, as inferior to us because they do not possess the same intelligence and are weaker and unable to defend themselves. We think that because of our apparent superiority, we are entitled to wield authority, power, and dominion over those we consider inferior, all for our own shortsighted purposes. As Chris Delforce describes in his aptly-titled documentary Dominion, "It is a justification that has been used before. By the white man, to enslave the black, or to take their land and their children. By the Nazis, to murder the Jews. By men, to silence and oppress women. Are we doomed to repeat history over and over? Does this superiority complex, this pure selfishness, define who we are as a species? Or are we capable of something more?" (1)
The truth is, we have created an ethical crisis and moral disaster. To be vegan is not simply about being 'kind' towards animals. Above all else, it is about being just and fulfilling our moral duty to refrain from treating other sentient beings as mere objects.
There is animal exploitation and there is veganism; there is no third option (4). And yes, it may seem that one person may not make a difference, but as Noam Chomsky declares, "In the final analysis, we always have two choices: We can choose to descend into pessimism and apathy, assuming that nothing can be done, and helping to ensure that the worst will happen. Or we can grasp the opportunities that exist — and they do — and pursue them to the extent that we can, thus helping to contribute to a better world. Not a very hard choice." (13) So choose to follow the path of peace. If not out of morality or for the sake of innocent beings, but out of concern for the future of our planet and your own health.
Citations
1 Delforce, Chris. “Transcript - Dominion Movement - Animal Rights Documentary Dominion: We Will Rise Together.” Dominion Movement - Animal Rights Documentary DOMINION | We Will Rise Together, 2020, www.dominionmovement.com/transcript.
2 Colon, Suzan. “Veganism.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., 1 Mar. 2024, www.britannica.com/topic/veganism.
3 Francione, Gary L. Why Veganism Matters: The Moral Value of Animals. Columbia University Press, 2021.
4 Francione, Gary. “Why Morality Requires Veganism: The Case against Owning Animals: Aeon Essays.” Aeon, aeon.co/essays/why-morality-requires-veganism-the-case-against-owning-animals. Accessed 1 Mar. 2024.
5 Humanedecisions.Com, www.humanedecisions.com/leo-tolstoy-believed-killing-and-eating-animals-is-against-the-human-heart/. Accessed 1 Mar. 2024.
6 Goodall, Jane. “Infant Killing and Cannibalism in Free-Living Chimpanzees.” Folia Primatologica; International Journal of Primatology, U.S. National Library of Medicine, pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/564321/. Accessed 1 Mar. 2024.
7 “How Does Eating Meat Harm the Environment?” PETA, 1 Mar. 2021, www.peta.org/about-peta/faq/how-does-eating-meat-harm-the-environment/.
8 “Why Does Veganism Have an Expensive Reputation?” The Vegan Society, 27 Mar. 2020, www.vegansociety.com/news/blog/why-does-veganism-have-expensive-reputation.
9 Greshko, Michael, and National Geographic Staff. “Mass Extinction Facts and Information from National Geographic.” Science, 26 Sept. 2019, www.nationalgeographic.com/science/article/mass-extinction.
10 “Avoiding Meat and Dairy Is ‘single Biggest Way’ to Reduce Your Impact on Earth.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 31 May 2018, www.theguardian.com/environment/2018/may/31/avoiding-meat-and-dairy-is-single-biggest-way-to-reduce-your-impact-on-earth#:~:text=“A%20vegan%20diet%20is%20probably,UK%2C%20who%20led%20the%20research.
11 “What Is the Sixth Mass Extinction and What Can We Do about It?” WWF, World Wildlife Fund, www.worldwildlife.org/stories/what-is-the-sixth-mass-extinction-and-what-can-we-do-about-it. Accessed 1 Mar. 2024.
12 “Soy.” WWF, wwf.panda.org/discover/our_focus/food_practice/sustainable_production/soy/. Accessed 1 Mar. 2024.
13 Cody Fenwick, AlterNet. “Noam Chomsky: The United States Is Committing ‘a Form of Criminality with Literally No Historical Antecedent.’” Rawstory, Raw Story - Celebrating 20 Years of Independent Journalism, 14 Aug. 2019, www.rawstory.com/amp/noam-chomsky-the-united-states-is-committing-a-form-of-criminality-with-literally-no-historical-antecedent-2649280511.
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