Vegan 101: Going vegan is not a diet, it's a lifestyle

Have your vegan cupcake and eat it too! (Image by Emilie Hardman)

It's been approximately two years and eight months since my last chicken sandwich. 

I was once a meat addict. But I'm not anymore.

It's a happy accident that I'm beginning this column in the first week of January, when many people vow to change their their diets, their bad habits, their perspectives on life. I'd be willing to bet that many people this year will be trying to eat healthier, vegetable-based diets, for a variety of reasons.

In this column, I will try to present a variety of viewpoints on vegetarianism and veganism that speak to a wide spectrum of readers, from those who have been strictly vegan for longer than I have been alive, to those who are just now taking their first steps towards a less meat-centric lifestyle.

To explain how I'll be defining "the vegan lifestyle", I'd like to begin by commenting on another New Year's story about veganism -- one published in the Jan 7-20 issue of the Improper Bostonian. It is entitled "Going Cold Tofurky: A committed carnivore turns vegan", and includes an understanding and definition of veganism that is tragic in its inadequacy.

The Improper Bostonian does not currently archive their articles online, so I'll do my best to describe the piece: reporter Linh Tran Brincat, who declares herself "the queen of carnivores", decides to try being vegan for a week. She writes that her goals "were straightforward, if a bit unrealistic: Stop eating flesh, dairy, eggs and honey for a week, then revel in a healthier, slimmer body and clean conscience." 

As any vegan will tell you, these goals are more than "a bit" unrealistic, and the outcome is predictable. She goes in with an attitude of trepidation and resistance.  She ignores the advice of venerable vegetarian experts like Evelyn Kimber, president of the Boston Vegetarian Society. She attempts to eliminate all of these ingredients from her diet at once, without giving herself proper time to adjust to the change. She does not mention learning how to find or cook suitable replacements (she even tries to make a veggie sausage in the microwave). And so, she finds that after a week of eating French fries for dinner and carrot sandwiches (carrot sandwiches?) for lunch, she only feels bloated and deprived. "My return from the leafy side was a scene out of Caligula crossed with Godzilla," she writes. She gorged herself on double-bacon egg sandwiches and steak, "nearly weeping when I tasted the pork."

In addition to proving that the Improper Bostonian is not the place to go for future dietary advice, so cursory is their approach to health information and journalism in general, this article also suggests that the vegan lifestyle, as it is currently perceived, is misunderstood not only by card-carrying "carnivores", but by many people who might like to try being vegetarian or vegan one day.

While "Skinny Bitch" popularized the concept of veganism-as-weight-loss-plan (and even helped push me into cutting out the meat with its graphic descriptions of animal cruelty), it also helped spread the concept of vegans as a kind of ascetic cult. Going vegan requires something other than iron self-control -- it requires a positive belief system that transcends the desire to look hot in a swimsuit, because as anyone who's tried to make New Year's resolutions knows, that desire will soon fade in the face of a sizzling pan of bacon.

In my mind, veganism's core principles have more in common with those found in a book like the Torah than the South Beach Diet Book. A glossy magazine would never waste its time sending a reporter out to eat Kosher for a week simply to report on what life is like without pork, because people understand that eating Kosher is just one way of displaying one's spiritual beliefs, through conscious food choices. Without those underpinning beliefs, the act of eating a noodle kugel would be nothing newsworthy.

In the same way, veganism isn't just about what you do, it's why you do it. Vegans don't just want to ditch the lard on their thighs -- they want to ditch the implications of eating lard, from its origins in a tiny gestation crate to its gas-guzzling trip across the country to its hidden role in a Boston burrito. They are making not only a physical but a mental, emotional and (some would say) spiritual choice. Without this kind of full engagement, it is difficult -- for some, impossible -- to propel oneself into the 0.5% of the population who regularly avoid ubiquitous ingredients like meat, butter, milk, honey and gelatin.

The vegan lifestyle requires constant vigilance and resourcefulness, and it can be difficult to adjust to this (Brincat gets that part right). But that doesn't mean it's not a worthwhile endeavor. The twenty-seven billion animals slaughtered in the U.S. each year would most certainly agree.

So why all the backlash? As most vegans eschew eating meat out of compassion for animals and concern for the environment, most feel that the vehement criticism or condescenscion that is sometimes aimed their way is undeserved, even when it's well intentioned. (Most healthy vegans have forgotten more about B-12 vitamins and Omega-3 fatty acids than the average American will ever know, but many still field concerned emails from relatives worrying about whether they're "getting enough protein". Answer: yes.)

One reason may be the fact that people who are not vegans feel judged by people who are. The other reason may be that some vegans -- people I call "those vegans" -- actually do judge people who are not vegans. All the time. Vocally.

Those vegans are easy to dislike. Some take pride in being members of this elite cadre and enjoy shaming those who fall short of their accomplishments. Some take pleasure in sharing the dirty details of meat production while their companion is downing a burger. Some spend their time clogging up thoughtful food forums with "meat is murder!" messages. Some survive mainly on junk food like French fries and Oreos (yes, some Oreos are, surprisingly, vegan, as are Jolly Ranchers, Ritz crackers and Twizzlers), then act as though their eating choices are still more responsible than those of someone who eats a moderate, omnivorous diet.

And, just to be clear, as in every niche of our culture, some vegans are just completely insane.

I am none of the above, and I make no apologies for these people. They make other vegans' lives difficult, and they deserve no respect. But they are not the norm.

I came to the vegetarian lifestyle for health reasons, stayed in the club for environmental and ethical reasons, and I am happier here.  I live with a partner who eats meat; I have solid, caring relationships with people who eat meat; I have respect for people who eat meat, under certain circumstances. I see my friends (and my readers are all friends until proven otherwise) as intelligent adults who are free to make their own choices, and my duty is simply to provide them with the tools and information they need to make those choices.

To that end, I'll be providing commentary, tips, reviews and links to more information regarding the topics vegans care about most: the environment, U.S. food policy, animal treatment, accurate health information, animal-free fashion, innovative food products and -- my personal favorite -- new and interesting recipes that don't taste like cat food.

So -- now that we're acquainted -- please let me know if there are specific topics you'd like to see explored in this blog, particular vegan dishes or products available in Boston that you really enjoy, or other takes on veganism that you'd like to see represented here.