Why Do We Eat One Animal and Cuddle Another?
In many respects, Labrador meat would taste the same as pork. Does this opening sentence disgust you? Then read on anyway, because this really is food for thought! In her book Diet for a Better Planet, Hanneke van Veghel takes you through the jungle of considerations we face every day in our search for responsible food choices. And rest assured: there is no moralizing finger-wagging involved.
As normal as we find eating cows, pigs and chickens, the idea of cat or dog meat is quite repugnant to us in the Netherlands, because it is not ‘normal’. In many respects, Labrador meat would taste the same as pork. So it is not the taste that makes us prefer not to eat dog meat, but our perception of the animal. How can it be that our conscience does not bat an eyelid when we eat a handful of certain animal species, yet feels disgust at the thought of eating a piece of Labrador?
A piece of Labrador, anyone?
American professor of psychology Melanie Joy discusses this question in her book We Pet Them, We Hate Them, We Eat Them. The answer to this question has to do with the ideology Joy calls carnism. Carnism is essentially the opposite of veganism and encompasses the belief system that conditions us to consider it normal to eat animals, and in particular to eat certain animals while cuddling others or turning them into fur coats. Anatomically and essentially, there is little difference between the animals: pigs and dogs mainly share similarities in how social, playful and intelligent they are.
A hidden ideology
Carnism is accompanied by an ideology that justifies eating meat, making use of the ‘three Ns’: normal, natural and necessary. Because it is the social norm in our society, carnism is a ‘hidden ideology’. Although meat eaters, just like vegetarians or vegans, choose to eat meat, they do not have to justify that choice. If they did, we would probably find it much harder to convince our conscience that we should continue eating meat while knowing what goes on in intensive livestock farming and slaughterhouses.
Carnism as a norm is found everywhere; the government has even enshrined it in law: a dog has many more rights than a pig or a chicken. Anyone who kills a Labrador can expect a hefty punishment, but anyone who does the same to a pig in a slaughterhouse gets paid for it.
Speciesism
Carnism also means that we have placed animals in different categories. We keep animals in dolphinariums and zoos for our entertainment, rats in laboratories for science, and test our makeup on rabbits or monkeys. We ride horses, make coats from foxes and mink, and keep dogs and cats at home for companionship. We let a number of fortunate animals go about their lives in the wild: we protect, photograph and admire that group. And we put one final group on our plates.
It is a form of moral exclusion: just as racism judges on the basis of skin color and sexism on the basis of sex, we exclude other animals on the basis of differences between species. The fact that we treat animals differently from humans has to do with what we call ‘speciesism’, a term coined by British psychologist Richard Ryder referring to the idea that humans feel superior to other animals and should have more moral rights than them.
Why is this so difficult to change?
Behavioral change takes time and energy, because our brains are specifically built to resist change. Almost everything we do, we do on autopilot. Habit therefore has more power over our actions than reason: more knowledge does not automatically lead to different (wiser-
) choices. That is why changing habits is so difficult. Only when our brains feel the need to change – for example, because of a life-threatening situation – will we do so. Because such situations fortunately do not occur every day in our society, we will have to give our gray matter a helping hand if we want to change our behavior.
All those excuses
It helps to recognize the psychological tricks our brains serve up to us. When we are challenged to act differently, our brains become tired. They then do their best to reduce that ‘mental strain’, so that we no longer feel the need to change. To justify this, our brains invent excuses to convince ourselves or someone else that we cannot adjust our ‘bad behavior’. This can lead us to tell ourselves that veganism is silly, naïve and unrealistic. That it is unhealthy, unfeasible and will leave us deficient in all kinds of nutrients. Our brains may do this not because we rationally disagree with the arguments against eating meat, but because the change is too great a task.
Carpe diem, yolo!
Another factor in our psychological ‘excuses’ for eating meat is the feeling that we are entitled to happiness. Carpe diem, yolo: you only live once and should enjoy it. This feeling is connected to our instincts: they ensure that we eat, explore, fall in love and have fun. But this motto also motivates behavior that is not good for us or society as a whole, such as smoking, drinking, eating (too much) meat, polluting with cars and air travel. It feels good in the moment, but causes a great deal of damage in the long term.
In addition, people almost always feel that they themselves are doing better than others: the optimism bias. We tend to attribute success to ourselves and failures to the outside world. Many people will therefore say, ‘I hardly ever eat meat, really,’ while the figures on our meat consumption suggest otherwise.
Herd animals
Another factor is that we are herd animals. If everyone eats meat, so do we. We are all part of a social group or moral community that determines how we behave. Through this ‘group membership’, we do not have to justify our food choices to anyone. During our formative years, we learn all kinds of things about our food: where it comes from, what is healthy and what we need. We therefore find people who fall outside these culinary conventions disruptive. No one likes to deviate from the dominant view.
When we are challenged to think differently and hear things that contradict our beliefs, our emotions get to work. We become angry, consider our conversation partner inferior or attach labels to them. It can therefore be uncomfortable to stand up for your views when they go against the majority. Finally, the fear this creates is also a reason for people not to have to (or want to) change.
Attacking with knife and fork
Three times a day, we face the choice of improving the world with only one weapon: knife and fork. Using practical tips, clever solutions and concrete do’s and don’ts, Hanneke shows which choices you can make that really do make a difference in drastically reducing your impact on the climate and our planet – whether you are in Albert Heijn, the organic supermarket or on the farm of a biodynamic farmer.
At a time when contradictions and strongly polarized viewpoints demand all the attention, it is a breath of fresh air to read a well-written, clear and above all comprehensive book about the causes and consequences of our food choices. In clear language and with scientifically supported arguments, Hanneke shows which choices lead to which effects. And thankfully, she does so without preaching or attacking; meat eaters are not bad and plastic users are not reckless. If you would like to read more about it, her book is highly enlightening and, in my view, truly recommended!
Title: Diet for a Better Planet
Author: Hanneke van Veghel
Price: €22.99
Publisher: Carrera Culinair
