Interview With a Vegan: Jed Gillen

Jed Gillen is the former owner of Vegan Cats and the author of Obligate Carnivore: Cats, Dogs & What it Really Means to be Vegan. I bought his book for two reasons: to help an entry I was writing about vegans with vegan pets, and to laugh at veganism at its most extreme. A vegan who argues that we should raise our miniature carnivorous felines as herbivores? Obligate Carnivore would surely represent the fringe of the fringe.

Obligate Carnivore

But I was wrong. On both counts. Rather than help my entry about vegan pets, it made me rethink it entirely until I decided not to write it at all. And yes, the book did make me laugh, but not by taking veganism to higher heights of absurdity. Obligate Carnivore uses vegan cats merely as a jetée to write hilariously about veganism and life in general; it is legitimately (and intentionally) amusing.

Far from being the fringe of the fringe, Gillen is veganism at its best. His ultra-logical and humorous take on animal-product-free living gave me the first and probably only sustained nostalgia I’ve had for veganism since quitting two years ago. It wasn’t enough to make me vegan again — I can’t imagine anything outside of convoluted hypotheticals that would accomplish that — but Obligate Carnivore reminded me why I had been vegan in the first place.

I liked Gillen’s writing so much, I took the next step and Googled him. Through Gillen’s Facebook profile, I learned he was no longer in the vegan cat food business, and was now making short funny videos through his company Liv Films. I emailed Gillen, told him about this site and asked if he would agree to be interviewed.

It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out by now that he agreed.

Meson

Most vegan books are grim, somber and dull. That is not the case with Obligate Carnivore. Your own work aside, do you find veganism to be an ultra-serious movement?

Jed Gillen: Definitely, but this is true of any social movement.  It’s not like feminists or pro-lifers are a bundle of laughs either.  I think this has more to do with the activist mindset than veganism specifically. To some extent, I think it’s just that activists feel very strongly about their chosen cause and think that humor would dilute their message (incidentally, they are 100% wrong about this).  I also believe that, just as pedophiles are drawn to the priesthood, many people are drawn to activism as an outlet for unrelated psychological issues.  The fringes of every movement, both on the left and on the right, could all probably benefit from some group counseling.

You blend humor and veganism quite well in your books, but your comedic videos don’t delve into animal issues. Have you heard from vegan fans who wish you’d integrate animal rights into some of your videos?

Yeah, we’ve been approached a few times about making videos with a pro-animal message but that’s not really something I’m interested in doing.  We make videos for fun and people watch them to be entertained; if suddenly we were preaching about seal clubbing or whatever, both of these conditions would be violated.

The activist mindset is that 24 hours a day is supposed to be spent “raising awareness” and “educating” people about all of the things they’re doing wrong, but I just don’t see that as a very productive or enjoyable way to spend one’s life.  Anyway, it’s not that we actively hide the fact that we’re vegan; when it’s relevant, we mention it.  It just doesn’t happen to be relevant all that often.

Liv Films

I was intrigued to see on your bio that you are a libertarian. Libertarian-vegan is an unusual combination, even though both philosophies are extremely concerned with rights. Why does veganism attract liberals more than any other political group?

Ultra-liberalism is almost a sort of mental disorder; it’s the hatred of all things that are strong and successful.  I think there’s a part in my book about a conversation I had with some liberals who argued that Pamela Anderson (this was a long time ago, okay?) is ugly due to the fact that over 50% of the population finds her beautiful, but that she would become beautiful if standards were to change and only 49.9% found her attractive.  It’s insanity.  Up is down, ugly is beautiful, and the only way you can win is by losing.  Insofar as animals constitute a weaker group being exploited by a stronger, it only makes sense that liberals would be attracted to their cause.

That having been said, not all vegans are ultra-liberal and I actually know several who are libertarian or conservative-leaning.  It’s just the wacky liberals who tend to make the most noise and kind of make the rest of us look bad by association.

Do you get any satisfaction from out-liberaling omnivorous liberals when it comes to animal rights?

No.  Trying to out-liberal other people is a stupid game.  It is, however, exactly the kind of thing that would have given me, age 17, a lot of pleasure.

You’re also an atheist, which (unlike libertarianism) almost seems to be the default in veganism. Why does veganism attract the non-religious? Does veganism function as a substitute religion?

Sure, there are definitely some people who make vegan activism the central purpose of their lives, much in the way that other people center their lives around religion, career or family instead. On the other hand, veganism is often associated with new age-y spiritualism, Buddhism, 7th Day Adventism and other such nonsense as well.  I’d like to be able to answer that vegans are less likely to be religious because they aren’t as weak-minded and illogical as everybody else, but I’m not really sure how often that’s the case.

However, I would definitely say that it’s easier to avoid taking personal responsibility for things when you believe that there’s an invisible man in the sky who takes care of things for you; maybe that’s part of the reason for the pattern you observe.

Yet if there is no invisible man in the sky taking care of things for us, then he’s also not there to make rules or judge us. And since society isn’t telling us not to eat animals, why be more moral than we have to be?

All systems of morality are based on the same principle— what Kant called the categorical imperative and Christians call the golden rule. Essentially, this is rooted in empathy, which is probably hard-wired into us as a result of having evolved as a social animal.  It’s unnatural for us not to care about each other, which is why nihilism is something that we talk about in philosophy class but isn’t really practiced by anybody.  The rare people who actually are able to care only about their own selfish self-interest (i.e., sociopaths) are considered to have a mental illness.

The only flexibility we have here is in defining what we mean by “each other”— in other words, who is included in the group for which we have empathy and who isn’t.  Different human societies throughout history have defined this in different ways, sometimes drawing the line between different racial groups, sometimes including men and excluding women, etc.  There’s nothing written in the universe that says that any one of these lines is any more inherently correct than any other but it’s pretty clear that the more advanced societies tend to draw the widest circles.

Cat Hypnosis

If there is nothing inherently wrong with eating animals, would it be fair to say then that the main purpose of veganism is guilt abatement?

I’m answering this question about three days after the big earthquake in Haiti.  Right now, there’s an outpouring of sympathy for the victims down there and many people are donating money, etc. to try to help out.  Is their motivation guilt abatement?

I understand the philosophical argument that everything is ultimately motivated by selfishness; I’ll simply point out that it would be disingenuous to apply it to veganism but not to the present situation in Haiti. Whether you want to call it selflessness or selfish guilt abatement, everyone in both situations is motivated by the same underlying feeling.

But wouldn’t you be better off if you could fool yourself into feeling as ethically good while eating meat as you do now for being vegan?

In other words, do I agree with the statement “ignorance is bliss”? Sure, but I think that only works if you’re actually ignorant.  The world is full of people who are trying desperately to convince themselves that everything in their life is the way they want it to be (people stuck in bad relationships, fat people dealing with self-esteem issues, etc.); ultimately, I really don’t think that lying to yourself is exactly the recipe for happiness.

Vegan origination stories often play as a loss of this blissful ignorance. In your own case, you were eating a chicken sandwich and then you realized you were eating what used to be a living animal. As you point out in the book, you had known this all along, but suddenly something clicked. That is the experience that many vegetarians and vegans have; Jonathan Safron Foer mentions a similar one in Eating Animals.

But after years of veganism, I had a different click: no matter what I did or didn’t do, these animals that I thought I was saving were going to die. Wasn’t I just restricting myself all this time for nothing? No vegan believes that the animals that they aren’t eating are released into the wild, or that animals that aren’t killed for meat will live forever. But what then is the actual concrete accomplishment of veganism?

Right— there are no actual, living animals whose lives are saved or improved through veganism; the only effect is that a decreased demand for meat causes fewer food animals to be born in the first place.  If the whole world went vegan, there wouldn’t be billions of happy cows in the world; there would just be many, many fewer cows.

Does this mean that veganism accomplishes nothing, though?  Is bringing animals into the world in order to torture and slaughter them morally equivalent to not bringing them into the world at all?  Then why don’t we breed human babies for food as well?  I hear they’re delicious.

Baby

What if you die and then find out that all along, life was just an advanced computer simulation? Are you going to kick yourself for avoiding animal products?

No.  I eat better as a vegan than I ever did as a meat-eater anyway. Constraints force creativity.

That is one advantage of veganism — you’re all but required to learn to cook and discover new foods. Along these lines, a lot of vegans say that veganism is not a sacrifice. Partially I think they say this to encourage more people to join, but I also think most vegans come to believe this. I did. Once you are conditioned against animal products, it can seem like you’ve given nothing up. Is that how you feel? Is veganism not a sacrifice?

On a day to day basis, I do think that I eat better than most people and part of the reason for that is that veganism has forced me to try things that I might not have otherwise.  However, there are definitely certain circumstances in which it feels like a sacrifice.

For example, I went to college in New Orleans and it was a bit disappointing not to be able to try very much of the famous local cuisine.  To me, personally, it wasn’t enough of a sacrifice to make an exception (crawfish, to me, are a little bit like dog meat or monkey brains probably are to most Americans— on the one hand, I sort of wanted to sample the local flavors but, on the other hand, eww— dog meat and monkey brains), but I always tell other people that in situations like that it’s okay to make an exception without throwing veganism out the window altogether.  If you can’t stand the idea of going to the ballpark and not eating a hot dog then, by all means, get a hot dog at the ballpark.  How does that have any bearing on what you choose to eat when you’re not at the game?

For most vegans, it seems to be the opposite problem — a self-ingrained repulsion to eating even the slightest amount of any animal product ever. They would rather throw out something with just a trace of animal products than eat it, even if throwing it out does nothing for the environment or animals. Why does personal purity become so important for vegans? Do you find yourself repulsed at the thought of eating something with a droplet of whey in it?

I am not repulsed by that.  As I argue in my book, animals are affected by our spending decisions, not our eating decisions.  It’s ironic that many vegans will throw away their old leather shoes, but continue to buy meat-based cat and dog food, when only the latter of these two actually has a negative impact on animals.  Sometimes you’ll hear vegans talk about the vague concept of “sending a message”— as in “if you continue to wear your old leather shoes, that sends the message that it’s okay to buy new leather shoes.”

Um, no it doesn’t. First of all, who the hell is basing their personal morality upon messages received from my feet?  And second, the message— if any— is that veganism is a comprehensible philosophy: if something needlessly hurts animals, I try to avoid doing it.  I’m not trying to win a contest by depriving myself of the most things possible or by having the fewest molecules of animal-derived products enter my own body or touch my own skin.  As I said before, trying to out-liberal, out-vegan, out-whatever each other is a stupid game.

I’ve known plenty of vegans and vegetarians in my life, but very few people who still eat meat as long as it isn’t factory farmed, even though that is less of a sacrifice. That does seem to be changing, but any idea why this all or nothing approach is so common?

Well, there’s been a proliferation of free range, organic animal products on the market in recent years so I guess somebody’s buying them.  But I do agree that there’s a problem when we think of things as a dichotomy (vegan/non-vegan) instead of falling somewhere along a continuum.

When a person mentions, for example, that they don’t eat any meat except for fish, the inclination of vegan activists is to try to educate them on why eating fish is bad.  That’s a mistake.  Here’s a person who is 95% in alignment with your point of view, and all you can do is criticize them for the remaining 5%?  I’ve actually witnessed a conversation in which a vegan activist attacked a person for saying that the only meat they eat is once a year on Thanksgiving, which is just ridiculous.  How about giving them some credit for the other 364 days?

We need to realize that every incremental change is just as important as any other. Someone who eats meat 20 times per week benefits animals just as much by cutting down to 10 times per week as someone who eats meat 10 times per week does by becoming vegan.  So why don’t they get the same amount of credit?

How do vegans feel about ex-vegans?

You mean apostates?  They pretty much hate them.  The logic is that, whereas everyone else might yet become vegan if properly educated, ex-vegans are just bad people.  For what it’s worth, it’s my understanding that Jehovah’s Witnesses operate in much the same way.

Packing Heat

In Obligate Carnivore, you say that when you became vegetarian, you thought you were doing harm to yourself. That’s what I thought too – I only cared about animal rights initially and I didn’t even know about the health angle. But now it’s become one of the unquestioned pillars of veganism: veganism is good for animals, for the environment, as well as for health. This makes veganism basically an invincible argument – there is no good reason not to be one. But is veganism actually healthier? Is it good for vegans to try to convince people to join for these supposed health benefits when not everyone does feel better on a vegan diet?

A vegan diet consisting of whole grains, fresh vegetables, etc. is one of the healthiest diets possible, and this is backed up by statistics on cancer and heart disease rates, etc. But that’s not to say that everyone who becomes vegan is automatically healthier than everyone else.  Technically, a diet consisting of potato chips, pickles and root beer is vegan.  That’s not better for you than brown rice and fish.  It’s possible to be very healthy on a vegan diet, but it’s also possible to be very unhealthy; and the same thing is true of a diet that includes meat.

You post a lot of photos of vegans who look scrawny, weak and unhealthy and the obvious counter to that would be a similar collection of fat ass meat-eater photos. But I do agree that it’s kind of ironic that the stereotypical vegan is so scrawny and weak, given how many of them make the argument that it’s inherently so much healthier.  I’ve always said that the best thing a vegan guy can do for the cause is to avoid looking like a skinny weakling.  If all else fails, I highly endorse beer as way of accomplishing this.

Unhealthy Veganism

Vegans pose veganism as an easy choice: a healthy diet with an ethics bonus vs. omnivorism, a probably unhealthy diet with negative points for morality. But what if it became obvious that humans need a certain amount of animal product to fully thrive in the long term? The choice would then be: a diet that covers you morally but not really physically vs. a diet that covers you physically but not morally. Would you be able to advocate a vegan diet if it were ethically good but physically bad?

I would never begrudge someone doing what they believe to be the healthiest for themselves.  A lot of people think that a macrobiotic diet (which is essentially vegan with the addition of fish) is the best of all possible diets and I really can’t argue with someone who chooses to follow it for that reason.

That having been said, how many people do you encounter on a daily basis that actually eat the way they believe to be the very healthiest?  The obesity rate in this county is something like 60%, and even if “a certain amount of animal product” were necessary to maximize health, that doesn’t really give you a free pass to eat all the chicken wings and ice cream you want. Most people who stuff their faces full of animal products because of a purported belief that it makes them healthy are kind of full of shit.

Since you’re libertarian, I wonder if you’re familiar with the economist Frederic Bastiat’s essay, “That Which is Seen and That Which is Not Seen”. In it he says that government only has an eye for the blatantly visible, but is blind to unintended consequences. For instance, the government might think that by making drugs illegal, they solve the drug problem. But what is “not seen” is that this creates an underground drug trade that leads to more violence and destruction than the drugs themselves do.

I thought about this while reading The Vegetarian Myth, an anti-vegan book which argues that though vegans think they are avoiding violence by eating rice and beans instead of flesh, they are blind to the unseen violence of agriculture, which destroys animal habitats to pave the way for monocrops (the land is destroyed, rivers full of fish are dammed to irrigate the crops, etc.). Also, there are those creatures killed by harvesting.

I know that factory farmed animals are fed grains anyway so omnivores are responsible for this agricultural destruction too. But it’s arguable that in certain cases, like hunting wild animals or eating grass-fed beef, it might be possible to cause less death and destruction by eating meat than by eating tofu. Is it possible then that vegans see the obvious (rice on their plate instead of flesh) but are overlooking a pretty major unseen?

You bring up a couple of great points here.  Whereas animal agriculture is much more destructive environmentally (uses more land, wastes more water, creates additional sources of pollution, etc. etc.), it’s not that a vegan diet has zero impact.  Wild animals are displaced from their homes whether a field is planted with corn for human consumption or for animal feed; again, fewer animals would be displaced if we ate the corn ourselves (it takes something like 8 or 9 pounds of corn to make a pound of beef, I believe), but even the organic garden in your backyard causes some small amount of animal displacement.

If I find it annoying that many vegans present themselves as if they are completely perfect while everyone else is evil, cruel and stupid, then how much more annoying must non-vegans find it?  The reality is that we all take up resources and place a strain on the earth in one way or another, and there are ways that any one of us could improve.  If everyone were to go vegan, all kinds of environmental issues would improve immensely, yet the same thing is true of driving cars and how many vegans still justify doing that?

It’s a good idea for all of us to look at the effects our choices make and see what areas we can improve.  Diet happens to be a big one for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean that vegans have everything all figured out and everyone else is terrible.

I also want to touch briefly on your point about hunting.  One of the most universally reviled individuals among the vegan community is Ted Nugent, and I really think that’s a mistake.  Whereas the guy is an unabashed bow hunter, etc., he’s against factory farming and (for the reasons you mentioned above) probably one of the lowest impact guys around.

I hesitate to say that we should look at Ted Nugent as an ally but, if the goal is to reduce animal suffering and death, we need to at least realize that he’s far from the worst enemy we’ve got.  I understand that, in a visceral sense, someone who kills animals with their own hands seems more cruel but, in terms of actual animal suffering, he’s responsible for less than almost anyone.  A lot of people consider themselves to be animal lovers and find hunting barbaric, and yet still eat meat.  As vegans, I think we’d be better served pointing out the flaw in that way of thinking instead of reinforcing it.

Cat on Shoulder

Will you be vegan for the rest of your life?

I can’t see any reason why I wouldn’t.

I know it was a long time ago, but do you miss anything about not being a vegan?

Stretchy pizza cheese.  They still haven’t come up with a decent alternative to that.

To contact Jed Gillen, you can go to his facebook profile. But you’ll need something to contact him about first, so watch Gillen’s shorts at Liv Films and read Obligate Carnivore.

--Tagged under: Vegan Interviews--

In response to the post that Monica from Nutrition Data wrote to my question about the ADA’s stance on veganism, a German anti-anti-vegan blogger named Ava wrote an interesting but paranoid rant, implying that Monica possibly wrote the question herself as an excuse to further her extreme anti-vegan agenda.

However, Ava isn’t married to that particular conspiracy theory. She’s open to all possibilities, like that I was lying about my own experience, that I was anorexic, or that I was never really vegan. Well, all possibilities except that someone could do poorly on a vegan diet after trying their best.

She takes particular umbrage to the term “brain fog,” which she says is nothing but a made-up phenomenon that anti-vegan trolls use on vegan forums. That I used the term in my letter, then, naturally tripped her troll-detector. Not that she would believe me (or even necessarily believe that I exist), but I don’t think I ever heard the term “brain fog” before I experienced it myself. It feels exactly like your brain is in a fog, which might be why it’s a popular way to express the sensation.

I’ll be curious to see if Ava ever feels it herself, and if so, what the German phrase for it will be.

I asked Monica, the blogger at Nutrition Data, to discuss the ADA’s stance on veganism. The letter she opens with is from me.

New York Times Not on the Vegans of Color Shitlist

The blog Vegans of Color has been inching slightly away from the standard vegan line. Yesterday Royce posted Absolutely Vegan, Absolutely Anthrocentric, arguing against veganism in a post-factory farming world. He wrote that without factory farms, animals and humans could potentially benefit each other, and vegans who think otherwise are the speciesist ones.

And today he posted What if Plants Had Secret Lives?, a serious exploration of the issues posed by Sorry Vegans, Brussel Sprouts Like to Live Too, the NYT article about plant intelligence that all other vegans hate even before they read it.

Royce went to a message board and found vegan responses to plant pain eerily similar to those of reactionary omnivores who mock animal suffering. And then he ponders what vegans would do if plants really did experience pain.

What is pain but an unpleasantness resulting from a stimulus? Is it really any crazier to think that a plant can feel, than that an ant or a worm or a sponge can as well? …

Obviously I could draw a line, remain vegan, say, “Too bad plants. There is nothing we can do about this. I must eat.” Or I could explore other modes of getting my food: fruitarianism, necrophagia, coprophagia (shudder), detritivorianism. …

Perhaps this is why it is upsetting to think of plants as possible of suffering. Because then veganism would become the moral equivalent of pescatarianism, and there wouldn’t be as much space to maneuver ethically. You can’t feed many people on naturally dead things and fallen fruit. If plants can feel, it requires a rethinking of what an ethical diet, ethical living in general, means for all of us.

But don’t worry, vegans. At the end he draws back to the safety of vegan certainty:

But of course it would never be fodder for an anti-vegan. Even if plants can feel it doesn’t excuse the horribleness that we direct towards animals.

Still… do I sense the rumblings of a future ex-vegan itching to burst through that vegan cocoon?

The Vegan Shitlist: The New York Times

In the past month, The New York Times has published two negative reviews of Jonathan Safron Foer’s Eating Animals (1, 2), an editorial by a vegan that vegans hated because it made veganism sound hard, and now an article arguing that if animals are worthy of moral consideration, maybe plants are too. Vegans haven’t forgotten The NYT’s infamous Death By Veganism piece either.

What’s next, New York Times? A sickly vegan on your front page?

"By standing up for animals we must go it alone, we can’t expect cows and chickens to encourage us."
The Vegan Shitlist: Self-Proclaimed Veg*ans Who Eat Meat

Labels are very important to vegans. Nutritional labels, certainly, but even more important is the label “Vegan” itself.

“I’m vegan” is often one of the first things a vegan will say about themselves when meeting a new person. “Are you vegan too?” might be the next thing they say, depending on how optimistic they are. (A few years ago I apparently had almost this very conversation with someone I had just recently met, who luckily didn’t write me off because of it). Though plenty of vegans are not quite that anxious to disclose their animal-product-eschewing lifestyle, it’s a fact they cannot hide for long, especially if food is present. “Is that vegan?” is the first question any vegan must ask about food they aren’t sure they can trust, and it’s an instant giveaway.

With their vegan identity reinforced at every meal, it is hard for veganism to not become a big part of who vegans are. But that’s just fine for most vegans, because the label gives them a purpose. By strictly obeying vegan rules, vegans become worthy of the label, and become a part of something larger than themselves that is for the good of the world.

In order for this meaning creation to seem plausible, the definition of vegan must be protected.

This is one reason vegans would rather throw out food with traces of animal products than eat it, even though it has no affect on the environment or animals at that point — eating it would tarnish the shiny green V seared onto their souls. [Though there is another more practical concern here too. Vegans become so self-conditioned against animal products over time, even the thought of eating something with a little bit of whey powder in it makes them nauseated.]

Veganism keeps vegans pure, and in return, vegans keep veganism pure. They do this by policing the terms vegan and vegetarian, pulling the alarm when an impostor slips by. Vegetarians who eat fish and sometimes even chicken are the most common intruders, but sometimes a particularly bold omnivore will dare to call herself a vegan while not avoiding animal products as strictly as a vegan should.

For instance, a vegan message board once fretted about a site for “chill vegans,” vegans who don’t go out of their way to eat meat or dairy, but who don’t panic if little bits of animal product sneak past their vegetable decimating jaws. The chill vegan site no longer exists, but the threat still lurks. When I was in Toronto to take photos of vegans, I stayed with a friend who initially told me that he was vegan; a few days later, we were eating beef heart together.

Fake vegans and vegetarians are a menace to the sacred labels they incorrectly apply to themselves, and to those who are actually worthy of the the veg*n insignia. Therefore, self-proclaimed vegans and vegetarians who don’t strictly obey the rules are on the vegan shitlist.

Vegans wouldn’t normally care too much about what happens with vegetarians, since vegans consider themselves in a totally different category than their less-consistent, udder-sucking, egg-nabbing counterparts. But vegans know that to most meat eaters, all non-meat eaters are pretty much the same, so if omnivores want in on the coveted vegetarian label, it won’t be long before the vegan label is heavily under siege as well.

Vegans say that the main problem is confusion. When the meaning of the veg*an label is diluted, it causes very real inconveniences. A vegan might request a vegan meal for a wedding reception, and the well-meaning host who only knows so-called vegetarians who eat fish might have a nice eel sashimi prepared for the vegan. “I’m vegan, I don’t eat eel,” the vegan would be forced to say. “Are you sure?” The host would ask. “My daughter’s a vegan, and she eats eel.” “Then your bitch daughter’s not a fucking vegan!” the vegan would scream, ruining the night for everyone.

But what really gets vegans more than the confusion is the diminishing of their own sacrifice. The label is, in a sense, the goal. To claim the label without earning it is cheating. True vegans eschew all animal products all the time in order to earn that V pin they put on their backpack, yet these bastard fake vegans and vegetarians get all the glory with none of the work. They get to be morally superior and have their eel sashimi too.

As eatyourveggies says, “Sounds like she wants the label without making the necessary sacrifces. Vegetarianism is not a fad, people, it’s a lifestyle that I think most of us believe demands 100% commitment if you truly care about the animals.”

If nobody knows or cares what “vegan” means, how is a vegan to know who they are anymore?

So if you’re desperate to get on the vegan shitlist, don’t wave meat in front of vegans and tell them how delicious it is — wave meat in front of vegans while wearing a “Vegan” t-shirt and bragging about what a chill vegan you are. Ooh, they would really fucking hate that.

--Tagged under: Vegan Shitlist--

Interview With An Ex-Vegan: Tommy Tepper
Tommy Tepper and I were housemates at a vegetarian and eventually vegan co-op house in Austin, Texas together. If I remember right, he was there for the transition, helping to increase the vegan vs. vegetarian ratio in the house so we could finally get that organic milk and those free range eggs out of there.

Tommy is easily one of the nicest guys I have ever met, but he was ruthless when it came to his vegan cooking career. Though it took me about a year and a half of on-and-off volunteering at Casa de Luz (Austin’s macrobiotic restaurant) to get a job there, Tommy was hired after only a few volunteer shifts. Well, it’s easy to see why they’d want him around - the man oozes positive ch’i.

Once I finally got hired too, we were vegan co-workers as well as fellow vegan co-op dwellers, but it wasn’t a huge shock for me to recently learn that Tommy was no longer vegan. Actually, the only shock was that he was still vegetarian!

What inspired you to first start giving up animal products?

I had to do a persuasive speech for a college class on being vegetarian, and while I was researching the topic, I learned all this stuff on veganism and I just thought to myself, “I have to stop eating all animal products right now.” And so I did.

Even though you had previously been vegetarian, once you were vegan, did you tend to look down on vegetarians and all their inconsistencies?

Yes, I did judge vegetarians a bit at first. It felt to me that being vegan separated you from others and that one must be 100 percent about it, or not at all. But after a while I realized that being vegan was not for everyone, and that it was perfectly okay if it worked for me (at the time) and not someone else.

How long were you vegan, and how long have you been vegetarian overall?

Eight years being vegan, twelve years overall as a vegetarian.

What were your main reasons for being vegan - health, the environment, the animals, or all three?

At first it was solely for the animals and the environment. Later, health became an additional factor.

Though you worked at a macrobiotic restaurant, I’m not quite sure how into macrobiotics you were; were you interested in macrobiotics before you got the job?

I knew very little about macrobiotics before I worked at Casa, but I was interested in learning more about it.

Did you believe that brown rice, as a perfect balance of yin and yang, was the ideal food, as George Ohsawa says in You Are All Sanpaku?

I believed it was an ideal balanced food, but that you needed other food besides just brown rice.

That’s good, since someone died from trying to live on an all brown rice diet. It seems that the dogmatic nature of macrobiotics sometimes attracts very fervent followers. In my experience, a lot of vegans (if not most) are not members of an organized religion. I was raised without religion, and I think that’s one reason that macrobiotics appealed to me, as an audacious philosophy with a lot of answers. Do you think veganism can work as a substitute religion? Or is there something else to explain the atheist/agnostic vegan connection, like that vegans tend to be more liberal, and liberals are often less religious?

Although veganism can be considered a way of life/a belief system, I don’t think that it is a substitute for religion, at least it was never for me. I think it is more that, yes, vegans tend to be more left-leaning and with that, less religious/dogmatic, and to some extent more open to varied experiences, lifestyles, and change than people who are set on tradition and religion.

Did you have any problems with veganism when it came to traveling, or not having food to eat at social gatherings, or feeling alienated from non-vegans?

No, not really, I usually tried to not make it that well known that I was vegan…meaning I wanted people to know I was someone named Tommy, before being just some vegan guy. I did have some trouble eating in Mexico (outside of Mexico City), but otherwise traveling and/or social gatherings went well as long as I planned ahead a bit.

While you were vegan, did you ever think you wouldn’t be vegan one day?

No, I thought I would be vegan for the rest of my life.

What made you start thinking that you might want to start eating animal products again? Did macrobiotic leader Michio Kushi getting colon cancer shake your faith?

Kushi had nothing to do with my personal decision. It all started when I was planning on hiking the Appalachian Trail (which I still have not done yet) from Georgia to Maine, and I realized that it would be really hard to be vegan on the trail and possibly very unhealthy to hike for six months without eating animal products. So I decided to start eating dairy and eggs in preparation for the hike. And although I ended up not going on the adventure, I stuck with just being vegetarian because I felt good eating that way. Actually, I feel better and have more energy since adding dairy back into my diet.

Vegans often find the idea of an ex-vegan incomprehensible. How could someone who once believed so strongly in animal rights suddenly forget all that and go back to eating animal products? Well, how could you? Did you stop believing in veganism? Or did you feel like veganism was still right but you were no longer up to the challenge?

I stopped believing in it, yes. It was hard at first because it was such a change of thinking on one level, but yet it seemed logical to me at the time and I came to believe (as I still feel currently) that just thinking about the food you eat and where it comes from is what’s important. For example, I started feeling that people becoming more aware of their food choices and understanding that they don’t have to eat meat every day or with every meal is more critical than being strictly vegan. Plus, the idea of being so one-sided on an issue started feeling really wrong to me.

How did you break your veganism? Was introducing animal products back in a bit of a process?

I just thought about it and did it, really. I started with just cheese and yogurt at first and then eggs a few months later. The first thing I ate was a slice of NY Pizza at this amazing pizza place near Yonkers, and it was so good! I ended up getting two slices, even though I thought that I might get sick, but I felt great afterward!

Since the site is called “Let Them Eat Meat,” I have to ask… Just as vegetarianism can be a way to transition into veganism, vegetarianism can be a way to transition out of veganism to eventual omnivorism. Why have you stuck with vegetarianism? Could you ever see yourself eating meat again?

I am vegetarian mainly because I love to grow and cook the majority of the food I eat and I still can’t see myself growing turkeys (for example) and raising them for their meat and then killing them, cooking them, and then eating them. I actually have no desire to eat meat and especially since I cannot (at least at this time in life) kill an animal for food, I choose not to eat them. Although I don’t think it will ever happen in my lifetime, I don’t completely rule out the possibility of eating meat one day. Again, being so one-sided is not really for me.

--Tagged under: Ex-Vegan Interviews--

Interview With an Ex-Vegan: Billy Thogersen

In 2000, when I moved into one of the two vegetarian co-op houses in Austin, Billy Thogersen lived in the other vegetarian house. We saw each other at parties, and I imagine we bonded to some extent over our mutual veganism, but at first we weren’t as close as actual housemates might be.

Then in 2001, I co-wrote and co-directed a musical with my friend Joe. Since Joe and I were more familiar with the Austin co-op scene than the theater scene (and since there was more talent in the co-op scene anyway), we scoured the cooperative houses for stars. We cast Billy in a double role as a gun-toting Student for the Constitution and an anti-Ecstasy activist done in by the child safety lock on his gun.

Though the musical didn’t have anything to do with veganism, a few of the lines did hint at the dietary persuasion of its authors, and Billy got perhaps the most vegan line of the show: “Eat brown rice. It’s the perfect balance of yin and yang.” We didn’t single Billy out to deliver that line because he was a vegan, though — almost all of our cast members were vegan. Billy was invaluable as an actor, techie and friend for that production, as he was for our following show, a live musical sitcom.

Once I left Texas, Billy and I didn’t really stay in touch. That changed this week when he submitted a photo of himself as a sickly vegan to this blog, and told me that he was no longer vegan.

BillyVegan99

So you were vegan, and now you’re not. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

I need to go back to 1990 when I was living at the decidedly non-vegetarian New Guild student housing co-op. I knew what a vegetarian was in theory, but for me the concept had no basis in reality. A really cute girl named Jacqueline, who turned out to be vegan, lived there at the time and a crush ensued. My fascination with her piqued my interest in the diet. A short time later, I experimented with not eating meat for six months and was quite surprised that I was still alive at the end of the experience. I resumed my previous crap-based diet.

I moved into the House of Commons vegetarian student housing cooperative in 1996. It didn’t take long before I’d fully accepted the superiority of veganism. Just for kicks I’d occasionally eat some meat, just so I could say I wasn’t really a vegetarian. That’s the kind of person I am. But by 2000 or so, I completely stopped eating meat, except for a few memorable occasions.

Now it’s 2009, almost 2010, and a few days ago you email me to say that you have started to eat meat again. What happened?

When I came home from work about three weeks ago I walked up to the screen door and took in a pleasant aroma. Confused about what to eat and hungry, Christa [Billy’s wife, an ex-vegan turned vegetarian] had broken down and bought a chicken that was now roasting in the oven. We have been eating a meat-and-fresh-vegetable-based diet since then.

Did she have to talk you into eating the chicken, or were you in the same place as her psychologically? Were you secretly ready to eat meat even before she was?

I’d say that Christa was in a very different place from me psychologically, but with the same result: namely, it was time to try something else because the veg thing was not working, despite trying just about every permutation of a vegetarian or vegan diet. I didn’t need any prodding to dig into the chicken. Now that you mention it, perhaps I was secretly ready to let go.

How did you feel after eating it?

I felt fantastic after eating the chicken on the first night. The first thing to go away was the constant soreness of my bloated gut. I chock this up to not trying to eat like a cow, stuffing myself with huge amounts of grains and other low calorie foods in order to be able to make it more than two hours before I was famished again.

I’ve also noticed that my allergies have disappeared almost overnight (after 10 years of debilitating problems) and my eyesight is improving. I’ve lost all cravings for sweet foods. If you knew me before, you’d be amazed. All I could ever think about was eating brownies or cinnamon rolls. Giving into the never-ending sugar cravings wrecked havoc on my system, but I was a slave to impulses.

If that isn’t enough, I can now stay awake all day. Just a few weeks ago I’d find it hard to keep from sleeping 3-4 hours during the day on the weekends, and for an hour or more after work each day. I can see what I’m writing and I barely believe it myself, but it gets even better: All of a sudden I can ride my bike up the hill to get to work. And most importantly, my brain seems to be working again. I can concentrate, have a sense of serenity, and am happy with myself and the world. And for so long I thought I was just a smug, irritable, depressed person. Well, I guess I’m still smug.

That sounds like my experience as well. I’d had problems with constant sleepiness since first going vegetarian, but eventually I realized that my brain was in a fog almost every single day. For a while I simply convinced myself that I wasn’t a very sharp thinker anymore and there was nothing I could do about it. Why are vegans so afraid to blame their diets that they would sooner blame themselves?

Food is one of the most deeply rooted attachments humans have. Water, sex, and for some, inebriation, are the only more intense drives. It’s no wonder that vegans wouldn’t want to place blame on their diet. It would be an indictment of who and what they are, literally.

The “fog” you talk about is exactly what I experienced. I used the word out loud on many, many days when describing to people how I felt. And I too had resigned myself to being less intelligent than I had been. I said to myself, “I’m getting old. My brain just doesn’t work as well anymore,” over and over again. The thought of this now almost brings a tear to my eye.

Did you have to talk yourself back into the idea that eating animals could be okay morally?

I’m still wrestling with the idea of eating the animals, but I’ve been working on a number of good rationalizations to make it easier. If I take the human point of view, as in Diet for a New America, it’s pretty easy to come to a vegan conclusion. By “human view,” I simply mean examining the world in a rather one-dimensional way, using simple observations of animal behavior and a lot anthropomorphizing. My experience with the world leads me to believe that I’m not so high and mighty that I can remove myself from mess of reality.

After reading David Holmgren’s Permaculture, Joel Salatin’s You Can Farm, and of course the even more fringy Nourishing Traditions and The Vegetarian Myth, I’m certain enough that it is not immoral to consume meat that I’m willing to do it.

So now all that’s left is what happened between these vegan and ex-vegan bookends. You mentioned in your email that you were vegan while in Hawai’i.

I was there for about 8 months in 1998, house-sitting for my brother and his wife while they were on Navy deployment. I had just read (and fully accepted) The McDougall Plan and put it into practice, all while living by myself in a strange and bizarrely hostile US state. (The Hawai’i Walmart devotes an entire aisle to potted meat…)

What got you interested in McDougall’s low fat vegan scheme?

I was interested in making my vegan diet even more extreme, both for its own sake, and for all the purported great health reasons espoused by the book. Although I pretty much took in the arguments hook, line and sinker, I’d like to state for the record that the incredibly clunky graphs and thin data never sat well with me.

How did the Hawaiian low fat vegan experiment begin?

First, I cleaned out (ate) all the frozen meat that was left in the house. I made an interesting video of the process, including what appears to be me going slightly insane.

I had this idea that I would get a 50 lb. bag of oats and sort of work from there. I developed a menu according to the McDougall guidelines and stuck to it for months. I also came up with an exercise routine, but it wasn’t very successful since I could barely run 200 yards before practically collapsing from lack of energy. After about 4 months I began to get mad cravings for fat, and finally began to give in to them once a week by getting a couple slices of cheese pizza.

Do you wish you’d experienced Hawai’i as a practicing omnivore?

It wasn’t too bad being a vegan in terms of missed opportunities for enjoyment. Even when it would’ve been convenient to eat meat, I got to chew on the satisfaction of being right. My workmates in Hawai’i never could let it go. They’d always say stuff like, “Why don’t you get you one pig, bra?”

One day I took in one of my McDougall “cookies” for one of them to try. Keep in mind that I didn’t add any fat (I mean, oats contain 15% fat and are already quite suspect because of it) and just a touch of sugar. One woman kind of rubbed it against her front tooth and then spit into the garbage can.

Why are vegans often content with mediocre food, like that inedible cookie?

Righteousness makes an excellent sauce for mediocre food. Since it’s often a struggle for a vegan to eat at all when out in the real world, you get used to taking what you can get. Over time, your bar gets lower and lower.

BillyVegan04

It’s true, you can almost taste the morality in vegan food. Speaking of that, it seems like people who aren’t religious are more likely to fall into veganism. Also, I’ve noticed that a lot of vegans grew up on fast food junk, or at least lacked an inspiring cuisine at home, before realizing that they were clogging their arteries and torturing innocent animals. Did this fit with your upbringing at all? Do you think there are certain traits that make one “susceptible” to the vegan argument?

Interesting points. That certainly fits in with my experience. Perhaps you could add to the list: exposure to other vegetarians, willingness to be “different,” being “eco,” control freaks, smug people, bulimics, children provided with excess cute stuffed animals…

Did you experience any alienation as a vegan?

I never really felt ostracized. These days most people accept vegetarians as legitimate, even saintly. As long as I spent most of my time in the safe veggie circles, which I basically did, there was no problem. Because of my fear of people, I rarely ventured into potentially meaty situations.

On the few occasions when I would be offered meat and had to awkwardly turn it down, I doubt I was feeling any more uncomfortable than if I had to say anything about anything at all. In other words, my social handicap was beyond anything related to being a vegetarian.

Did you try other vegan offshoots like macrobiotics and raw foods, or did you stick with low fat for the most part?

The low-fat approach simply did not work for me. I gradually gave up after doing a yeoman’s job. I was very interested in other vegetarian ideas, like macrobiotics and raw foods, but never adopted them.

I was disillusioned by the McDougall diet failure and was thoroughly in a vegan rut for years. After years of careful study and constant fighting, I simply assumed that veganism was right for every reason. My actual eating criteria became “anything vegan goes,” which in some ways is a very strange diet.

Beginning a few years ago, in response to feeling like crap all the time, Christa and I began a more systematic approach to eating. The culmination is a renunciation of vegetarianism.

How so?

I can’t speak for Christa, since I believe her experience has been quite different from my own. As for me, the systematic approach began with learning more about farming and agriculture, especially firsthand through gardening. Both curiosity about alternative ways of eating and slowly deteriorating health led to actually trying eating differently.

The first thing to change was to eliminate soy. This made a big difference by itself. I then began eating much more fat, especially coconut oil, and phased out canola oil. Again, I perceived improvement in my health. Around the same time, there was a concerted effort to avoid processed foods.

When I first read some of the stuff in Nourishing Traditions, I laughed about Fallon’s suggestions for tricking children into eating sweetmeats. Only after many discussions and reflection over a year did the option of eating meat enter into my realm of possibility. I’d say that The Vegetarian Myth was the breaking point.

Did you try vegetarianism before eating meat again?

I changed over to a vegetarian diet about a year ago in response to a nagging feeling that something was missing from my diet. And I did indeed feel better, pretty much right away.

I remember a guy that I hadn’t seen for years came up to me after I began eating eggs and dairy, and the first thing he said was, “wow, you’re looking good.” When I asked what he meant he said that I “looked really thin and sick before.” At the time I brushed off the comment as silly and uninformed, especially coming from someone who looked as unhealthy as he did to me.

Then you saw that there was an entire blog devoted to just that very subject. In retrospect, did you notice sickliness in other vegans while you were vegan? If so, how did you rationalize it away?

My mental image of a healthy person changed as a result of my total buy-in to veganism. I embraced the results of a vegan diet: Sickliness = Perfect Health. What I ended up perceiving was vegan people in top physical condition and the rest of the population in various states of disrepair. I paid special attention to the pudgy marshmallow-looking people to make myself feel better about being a vegan.

The extremely fit meat eaters posed more of a problem, but I figured their arteries were probably about to pinch shut, making my diet superior once again.

Vegan sickliness does at least seem to be a different sort of unhealthiness than what a bad omnivorous diet can do. Though some vegans may be tired and weak all the time, do you think they are safer from chronic diseases like heart attacks and cancer?

It’s entirely possible that vegans are safer from heart disease and cancer relative to people eating diets that are even worse. I’d say that I was suffering from fatigue and an irritable bowel condition after only a few years of being a vegan. I believe that being in a poor state of mental and physical health over a long period will likely cause chronic illness.

At the time you were vegan, you must have felt that you were benefiting the world and animals in some way. Now that you’re no longer vegan, do you still think that you accomplished something tangible in that time?

Thinking back, I indeed felt like I was benefiting the world through veganism, but even then I understood that my diet probably didn’t keep a single animal from being slaughtered. As for a tangible result, I was partly responsible for multiplying tenfold the available number of vegan products, especially “frozen deserts.”

How is it that people who once believed so strongly in veganism and/or animal rights can eventually forget all that and go back to eating meat? Does part of you still believe it, except that you don’t feel up for the challenge anymore?

I haven’t given up. I take humane animal treatment, sustainability, health and social justice seriously. When I told my brother I was eating meat, his first response was, “so you’ve come over to the dark side.” And my response was that I sincerely now believe that it is not the dark side, to which he muttered, “hm.”

I’m also humbled by the experience of so fully believing in something and then letting it go. It’s true though that I’m not up for the challenge anymore; the challenge of always feeling like an irritable stuffed sack, crapping six times a day and constantly wishing I were eating a donut.

How is your life, post veganism?

So far so good. My concern is that it might actually be even harder to eat than before.

What makes it harder?

Right now I’m finding my non-vegetarian diet more difficult in part because I’m still in the process of working out all new meals. After 12 years of vegan and vegetarian cooking, I became quite adept at putting together meals quickly without having to think about it.

I was initially worried about getting meat that I’d be comfortable eating, but now that I’ve been looking around I see that there are small farmers all over the place selling fresh grass-fed animal products. I think the biggest adjustment has to do with eating smaller amounts of grains, and being careful with grain preparation to avoid ingesting the toxic compounds.

I had a little freak-out at first when I thought about the large vegan and vegetarian cookbook collection amassed over the years becoming obsolete overnight. But it turns out that it’s pretty easy to adapt the recipes. For example, instead of egg replacer, you just use eggs. Instead of “screeze,” just use some cheese. Meat makes an excellent substitute for tofu, etc. etc.

Omnivorizing vegan recipes? Genius. Is there anything you miss about being vegan?

Veganism was only a bad experience in light of the inadvertent impact on my health. The most fun years of my life were spent as a vegetarian, hanging out in tight community of 25-30 people. But my renunciation of vegetarianism is complete and without reservation. I thought I’d “miss it,” but I really don’t.

The one exception would be having to now carry the weight of killing an animal to sustain myself. As a vegan, I felt I wasn’t directly responsible for the death of animals, or at the very least, that I was doing the least harm. I miss that enlightened feeling.

BillyNotVeganNow

--Tagged under: Ex-Vegan Interviews--

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