July 18, 2012

Why I Became Vegan (Part 3/4)


III. Denegation and Negotiation

There is another reason why veganism is better characterized as an embodied sensibility rather than a conclusion to the ethical project, and it is that vegans and vegetarians cannot avoid doing violence (or being complicit with preexisting patterns of violence) to animals, as well as to life and its ecosystems more generally. As Jacques Derrida helpfully reminds us in an interview, “Vegetarians, too, partake of animals, even of men. They practice a different mode of denegation.” This statement speaks volumes to the pretensions of “ethical veganism/vegetarianism,” and it can be elaborated in several ways. For consideration of time and space, I will draw out two (interrelated) implications of the statement, one concrete and the other abstract.

The concrete implication. The current mode of production and our economic system are based on exploitation of labor—human and animal labor—as well as the subjugation of nature and life to the cravings of the market. On this fact it is pointless to disagree. And this super-structural violence necessarily reproduces itself in the production of all food, not just in the more obvious case of the meat produced in factory farms. Though it is not comfortable to consider, the land and labor required for the cultivation of domesticated crops at the center of vegan and vegetarian diets is an ecological disturbance, one that causes the deaths of countless forms of life—not only of the crops themselves, but of insects, other invertebrates, and smaller mammals. Furthermore, farms rely on the physical labor (and therefore on the suffering and exploitation) of many human and animal workers. Thus, vegetarians and vegans, too, partake of animals and of humans. It is sheer ideology to think that a simple change in diet can change this fact, can make one guiltless before an Other’s face.

The abstract implication. At the same time that he acknowledges these more concrete patterns of institutionalized violence against humans, animals, and ecosystems, Derrida references a dimension of Emmanuel Levinas’s ethical thought. For Derrida, following Levinas, our confrontation or interaction with the Other always entails some measure of violence, antagonism, power. This is not to suggest that it is acceptable for things remain the way they are or that we attempt to revert to some imagined pastoral past—indeed, as Derrida and Levinas would insist, we must change, for we can minimize this violence. But, in the final analysis, it will not do to think that we can rid ourselves completely of this violence simply by evoking an alternative economic paradigm. Even if we were to replace the current economic system with a more just one, even if our current mode of production were to be replaced, our encounters with our Other animals would retain the ineradicable trace of this violence.

If Derrida is right—and I believe that, in this case, he is essentially correct—it simply will not do for honest vegans and vegetarians to deny the existence of a violence with which they are always already complicit, a violence that their continued existence, in fact, calls for, necessitates. Therefore, veganism or vegetarianism would be more rightly understood as an embodied sensibility. If we wish to emphasize the ethical dimension of our choice, it will require a new ethical vocabulary, one that does not evoke some telos or notion of moral truth but instead positions veganism and vegetarianism as an embodied response to what we have decided is an impermissible violence enacted against human and nonhuman animals alike as well as to the various ecosystems to which they belong and in which they participate.

And here, again, Spinoza’s work on ethics, especially when read alongside that of Derrida and Levinas, is particularly useful. Veganism is not the termination of a predictable program or calculation that we mindlessly perform but is rather an intellectually enriching movement practiced concurrently with other radical pursuits. It is, at bottom, a way of relating to the world, a way of relating that attempts to minimize the damage I cause, even as I allow myself to be transformed by this encounter with an Other animal.