A Wake Up Call For Vegans

At the depths of it, the reason most people
won’t go vegan

is the same reason that vegans can’t understand
why most people won’t go vegan.

When I first conceived of Bite Size Vegan,
I had no intention of making content for or

speaking to vegans.

And I, in fact, expressly wanted to not create
content for vegans and I certainly did not

ever want to speak in front of a group of
vegans.

I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’re
all lovely people—it’s just my initial

intention was to focus exclusively on reaching
non-vegans.

I figured we vegans already know to be vegan.

We got it.

And it seemed to me that so much of the information
on social media and elsewhere that I’ve

seen about veganism was either created with
a vegan audience in mind or delivered—whether

intentionally or not—through a vegan lens.

And some of it seemed to have evolved over time
into this internal commentary of sorts—

something of a vegan human centipede,
just this cycle that kept happening.

My goal was to reach as many people as I could
with accessible and reliable information.

I wanted to cut through all of the stigmas
and stereotypes.

I wanted to show that veganism, far from this
extreme ideology that it appears to be from

the outside, is just simply aligning our actions
with the values that we already have.

I believed—and still wholeheartedly believe—that
when it comes to core beliefs, most people

are already vegan.

Most people don’t want to cause the suffering
and death of innocent beings.

Most people would recoil in horror if they
were given a knife and told to “Please slice

the throat of this cow who is standing before
you”.

There’s a reason that we keep our slaughterhouses
so far from our tables and we pay other people

to kill on our behalf.

The distance, it allows us to maintain this
self-image that we’re good, we’re decent

people, that we’re animal lovers!

And it’s true.

We do start life as true animal-lovers.

We do.

It’s obvious children love animals, yet
from very early on, we begin to lose touch

with our inherent nature.

We’re indoctrinated into what I call “The
Greatest Lie Ever Told.”

The truly astounding thing, is that this is
what unites humanity—this universal delusion

drives good decent people, loving people,
animal lovers to participate in brutal, horrific

acts that they would otherwise find appalling.

What’s even more striking is that, when
this behavior is challenged, these same good

and decent people will defend with righteous
indignation the necessity—and even the civility—of

the atrocities that they’ve never even witnessed.

I mean it’s really astounding—animal lovers
eating animals.

Good and decent people who rescue dogs and
cats, sign petitions, cannot bear the sight

of violence against any animals.

Yet, these very people will passionately and
vehemently defend the systematic brutalization

of trillions of animals, justifying the very
abuse in the footage that they cannot bring

themselves to watch.

Now I’m not saying this so that we “enlightened
vegans” can hold a group shame session against

the “ignorant meat-eating masses” while
we revel in our superior awareness and our

astounding level of integrity.

That line of rhetoric is dangerously appealing,
and it’s all too easy to fall into.

And it’s exactly what I wanted to consciously
avoid in my activism.

I do believe that bonding over a shared experience
of awakening can have immense value.

As fantastic as it would be, when we go vegan
it doesn’t stop the cultural messages, the

societal and the familial messages that bombard
us day in and day out.

Sometimes speaking with and even venting to
someone else who “gets it” provides a

much-needed outlet and reinforces what we
know to be right.

But when it becomes our primary focus—even
assuming the guise of productive action—it

feeds into the very delusion we believe we
have escaped.

More importantly, it underestimates the profound
power and reach of this lie.

We are up against a force that the true breadth
and depth of which is beyond our comprehension.

It’s not even something that we can clearly
define because we were raised in its very

embrace—so it’s like trying to grasp the
air around us.

It’s always been there.

You may see by now why I struggled so long
to find the words to speak about veganism.

I remember as a child and an adolescent feeling
very small against the enormity of the suffering

in the world and I was baffled by how everyone
around me seemed to go about their daily lives

as if everything was okay—while I felt intensely
aware that every second of every day, all

around me and all around the world, countless
innocent beings were living in absolute terror,

abject misery, and incomprehensible pain.

Needless to say, I was a very intense kid.

I just simply couldn’t shake the sense that
something was profoundly wrong.

And I believe that most children possess a
level of empathy that is largely absent in

adults.

We eventually sever our empathy out of necessity
so we can learn to eat the animals we love.

Living with that level of dissonance requires
protective measures to blunt our awareness.

It’s a survival mechanism.

Of course I didn’t comprehend all of this
at the time.

But looking back later in life, I was better
able to understand the astounding resistance

that many, if not most people have to veganism,
and what was really driving the bizarre objections,

non-sequitur arguments, or the abusive language
that we receive.

And that understanding became my starting
point for Bite Size Vegan.

So up until that point—and, to be honest,
sometimes still—anytime I tried to talk

about animals or the environment or really
any element of what I now recognize as veganism,

I would either freeze up completely, or I
would explode in this rousing display of pent

up frustration.

And surprisingly enough neither of these approaches
proved particularly effective.

While my floundering is somewhat amusing in
hindsight, at the time I felt overwhelmingly

frustrated, and defeated, inadequate, and
more than anything, that I was failing those

who needed me to be effective.

So, I read books, anything I could find that
was even remotely connected to effecting significant

change, but I was still left uncertain about
what action to take.

As no one I knew even thought anything was
wrong, I had no idea who to turn to for advice.

I didn’t even know there were other people
out there fighting the same battle.

But with the rise of the Internet allowing
interaction with people all over the world

that we’d never had before, I found that
apparently my go-to strategies of either freezing

or exploding were not these signature moves
that I’d believed them to be.

While every journey to veganism is unique—it’s
shaped by an individual’s circumstances,

their background—one experience I’ve seen
time and again is the struggle to communicate

about veganism to non-vegans.

It’s almost like the second that we step
onto “the vegan side,” the non-vegan mentality

that we’ve had our entire lives is suddenly
incomprehensible.

I’ve received emails from hard-core meat-eaters
who—after making some powerful connection—did

a complete 180, stormed into the kitchen,
began throwing away everything that even remotely

contained the smallest trace of animal ingredients,
much to the confusion and horror of their

spouse.

And even then—in that millisecond after
something finally clicked—they find that

they’re completely unable to explain themselves.

So they reach out to me—essentially a complete
stranger for advice.

How do they talk to this person who they’ve
known for years?

How do they cope when their loved one refuses
to see the truth when they continue to eat

what is now so clearly to this person the
murdered body of an innocent being and how

do they deal with the heartbreak of loving
someone they no longer understand?

Just think about that.

How such a profound shift can occur—and
so suddenly—that reaching out to a complete

stranger on YouTube is less daunting than
talking to someone that you’ve lived with

for 20 to 30 years.

That’s the power of this thing.

As the channel grew, I started receiving messages
from vegans saying that the videos were helping

them find the words to speak to non-vegans—what
they’d been trying so long to communicate.

Apart from the utter astonishment of hearing
I was somehow providing for people what I

had been searching for for so long.

These messages provoked a subtle, but important
shift in my mindset.

In my efforts to find these effective ways
to communicate the multi-faceted basis for

veganism in a simplified presentation that
was accessible to non-vegans, I was inadvertently

creating something of a blueprint for other
vegans to follow.

This really shouldn’t have been such a revelation
for me.

After all, it was finding Gary Yourofsky’s
speech that finally gave me the words and

the guidance that I’d been looking for so
long.

Here was this man saying everything that I’d
been trying to say, and in a way that was

so agreeable and so logical.

I studied him.

I watched all of his talks again and again,
over and over.

I decided to get serious about my activism,
and I launched Bite Size Vegan despite all

of my lingering fears and total inexperience.

In the beginnings, my videos largely consisted
of me relating quotes from Gary and other

activists, philosophers, doctors, and the
many books that I’d accumulated.

I stood on their shoulders for a while.

It was terrifying, it was messy and a complete
technical disaster—still on my channel—you

can see them.

But I just kept trying and I just adjusted
my approach along the way.

I continued creating content for non-vegans
but now with this additional purpose of serving

as a teaching resource for vegans as well.

And in case you’re wondering why I’ve
gone on this tangent about my channel—the

reason that I’ve chosen to write this talk
in the first place, despite this very real

risk of not even making an ounce of sense—I
mean, it would have taken far less time and

consume far less mental energy and overall
have been much easier for all of us If I had

simply written a speech on the importance
of taking action in any form—with an emphasis

on the value of every unique voice being needed
and complete with some inspiring call to action!

But I didn’t do that.

It’s the thought process behind the decisions
for my channel that I wanted to try to relay

in this speech.

This is not to say that I have achieved any
kind of activism enlightenment or that I even

know what I’m doing.

But when I was invited to speak here, I was
faced with the challenge of crafting a talk

for vegans.

And I wanted to take full advantage of this—I
wanted to not just address the struggles,

but try to go deeper.

This isn’t anything I’ve ever talked about
on my channel.

This not something I’ve ever really tried
to put into words before.

But one relatively universal struggle for
any vegan is learning how to live vegan in

a non-vegan world— whether it is what to
tell their friends when they first make the

switch, how to navigate social situations,
how to speak up or get involved in activism,

how to not feel so incredibly alone, how to
get over being so frustrated with people’s

inability to see the truth and disgusted by
humanity as a whole and enraged by the absurd

level of corruption and the heartbreak of
the unfathomable number of innocent beings

that we so callously murder all as we hurtle
towards our own destruction, taking the whole

planet along with us.

As challenging as it can be for someone to
go vegan, being vegan is traumatic!

Before I get too cerebral again, I’m going
to briefly explain my own thought process

for content creation.

This can give us a practical example of how
to approach communicating with non-vegans.

When I research a script for a video, I always
try to think about my audience, my message

and my purpose.

I try to keep in mind whom I’m trying to
reach, what message I’m trying to reach

them with, and what it is that I’m trying
to accomplish.

When I’m writing a speech there are also
additional considerations to have: Is it a

University where most of the audience is non-vegan?

Is it a VegFest where attendees have at least
expressed an interest?

Are there cultural variants that I should
look into?—Like when I did a speech in Portugal

or Ireland.

Is it a formal lecture setting that calls
for in-depth research, animated slides, and

a cited resource page or is it on a street
outside of a slaughter house, calling for

words from the heart?

Of course I’m never gonna know every aspect
of my audience or the situation, but these

considerations help me craft the message the
best way that I can.

It’s not about pandering or equivocating—I’m
never gonna compromise the truth.

It’s about making every decision about my
presentation based on what will most effectively

convey the message.

When I made a video about halal and kosher
slaughter, I decided not to show any graphic

footage, despite the astounding array of undercover
videos from halal and kosher slaughterhouses.

I used this same process to come to this decision.

My intended audience was primarily individuals
who follow halal and kosher practices.

My purpose was to prompt a reconsideration
of these activities, ideally with the decision

to go vegan.

And my message was that killing is never humane,
kind, or holy.

If my over goal is to help Jewish and Muslim
individuals make the decision to go vegan,

it’s vital that I am diligent in my research
and respectful in my approach, especially

given that I am neither Jewish nor Muslim.

But I didn’t withhold graphic footage simply
to not upset my audience.

Again, it’s not pandering.

The horrific abuse in those videos is a gross
violation of halal and kosher principles.

So using it as an example of those practices,
or even more as a reason why they’re inhumane,

is not only inaccurate, but in the end it
completely negates my own purpose.

If I want to reach people who partake in halal
and kosher slaughter and I show them brutal

footage in violation of halal and kosher slaughter,
what have I accomplished?

Most Jewish and Muslim individuals will be
equally, if not more, outraged by the violations

in these videos—and the result is never
to cease halal and kosher slaughter, but to

tighten up regulations.

So by so inaccurately portraying an important
vital aspect of their faith, I’ve further

closed any door to discussion or reconsideration.

I do the very best that I can to see from
the perspective of the person for whom I want

to reach.

Were I to have been raised in a Jewish or
Muslim household and remained devout, what

kind of approach would I be most open to?

Now, of course, I don’t always make the
right choices, and I certainly never please

everyone.

And trust me, being on YouTube, I am very
aware when someone is not pleased.

But I do receive promising feedback—and
honestly, the negative feedback is equally

helpful.

That’s how I am able to adjust as I go along.

It’s impossible for me to know how to improve
if I don’t listen to what isn’t working.

So that’s an abridged overview of this basic
process.

In real life application, it lacks any kind
of clarity or organization—if that’s what

that was.

I always laugh to myself when people comment
that they wish they could be as composed and

well-spoken as I am.

They don’t see the hours that I’m anguishing
over these decisions.

In the same counter-intuitive manner in which
veganism becomes more confusing the longer

we’re vegan, when the false bottom of eliminating
meat, dairy, eggs drops out and we see these

seemingly infinite forms of exploitation.

In my admittedly brief time as an activist,
my understanding of what drives this overwhelming

resistance to veganism, has also grown in
its complexity.

Through this largely unintentional progressive
intensification of my process, I’m finding

in the depths of every topic I address the
threads of this illusive commonality.

The web pervasively and inextricably entangled
in every aspect of existence.

Yet so intangible as to almost completely
escape our awareness: The Greatest Lie Ever

Told.

At the depths of it, the reason most people
won’t go vegan is the same reason that vegans

can’t understand why most people won’t
go vegan.

What appears to be this hopeless division
is simply two sides of the same lie.

Not only are we vegans not fully awake, we’re
still feeding into the deception that we detest.

Perhaps we come to mock the ignorance of non-vegans,
to ridicule their blind adherence to blatant

falsehoods.

Perhaps we tell ourselves “we get it,”
there’s no reason to subject ourselves to

the suffering of animals, to go to slaughterhouses,
watch the truth of their experience in the

videos.

After all, we are not contributing to that
any longer.

Perhaps we just withdraw completely into our
self-contained vegan communities, unable to

deal with anyone who cannot see the truth.

And we find comfort in this insulation—our
conversations take on a new depth of understanding.

And the non-vegan world becomes more and more
alien.

Maybe we resolve that we’re going to “show
them the truth” and if they can’t handle

it, it’s simply another sign of their willful
ignorance

Perhaps we decide to find out what is the
most effective form of activism, and we focus

on critiquing and debating.

If we can just get the right approach or at
least stop others from giving veganism a bad

name maybe we can make a difference.

Maybe we don’t even realize that these debates
becoming circular, their content slowing sliding

from critique to attack.

And when what we feel are our monumental efforts
continue to go nowhere, maybe we just double

down, we dig deeper, running as fast as we
can…in place.

Or maybe we give up entirely.

Or maybe we retreat entirely into the comfort
of the vegan insulation.

Maybe we never even left.

These are only some of the ways that we can
feed into the lie.

How we can scream at the wall and we can wonder
why there is no change.

We mock the blind adherence to the very delusion
that we continue to inhabit.

Laughing from within the system itself.

We separate ourselves from non-vegans—perhaps
we even feel ourselves above reproach.

And in the end, we’re less able to effectively
communicate the importance of veganism.

We reduce our impact and we slow any change.

And in our frustration with non-vegans for
not looking in the mirror and taking responsibility,

we are doing the exact same thing.

But if we can open our eyes, raise our awareness
of the lie in our own lives, we have a better

chance at progressing, rather than treading
water.

This is a continual process of self analysis,
of growth and change, of putting thought into

our action, and taking action, even when we
may be mistaken.

Because we’re gonna learn from the outcome.

And at least we’re trying.

If we want the world to confront the truth,
we must do the same, no matter how daunting.

Nothing we can experience will ever equal
what the animals are experiencing.

And they don’t have the convenience of insulation.

They deserve us at the very least to bear
witness.

Yes, we already know—or we think we do—but
if we, the ones who claim to feel their pain

refuse to look, how can we expect the rest
of the world to do it?

This isn’t about sitting and watching hours
of brutal footage.

That too can be circular—it’s not productive.

It’s not about berating ourselves, or lamenting
the impossibility of everything.

But we make a grave error when we fail to
ourselves stay connected to the truth.

To pull ourselves, time and again, further
and further out of the lie in which we were

born, bred and raised.

That we ate, drank, and breathed in every
moment.

The lie that continues to surround us.

I include myself in this, I always find more
and more ways in which I am still so very

asleep.

This is not easy work.

But in the extreme difficulty of this process
we may finally come to understand why, exactly

why it is that non-vegans cannot or will not
see.

Because their resistance is our resistance.

And we best remember that.

The pain of accountability.

The pain of discovering that we are not the
people we believe ourselves to be, want ourselves

to be, and desperately need ourselves to be.

The good news is, we’ve awoken once already.

At least in part.

And our only options are to move forward,
or stay forever asleep.

The choice is ours.

I’m going to keep fighting.

Messily.

Imperfectly.

Partly awake and mostly asleep.

But kicking and screaming with all of my might.

I hope you’ll join me.

Thank you.