A very interesting discussion I came across online between Cosmicskeptic (Alex) and Earthlings Ed (Ed Winters) brought forth several points that I have wondered about in the past. In one segment, Alex poses the following question: knowing that plant-based foods also involve some harm in terms of crop deaths, isn’t it the case that anyone who consumes food over and beyond the bare minimum caloric requirement (including, and especially, vegans) is not leading a life conforming to ethical standards of veganism? Ed doesn’t give a straight answer and offers some generic caution against overconsumption. As though the question of consistency of this behavior under the puritanical requirements that most vegans insist on can be resolved with mere reference to a more general societal health problem about which vegans are nowhere as judgmental about.
This brings us of course to the question of who really counts as being vegan. In fact, that is something Alex raises too and Ed cites the standard Vegan society definition which holds that veganism is a lifestyle that “minimizes to the extent practical the usage of animal products”. The important word there is of course practical. Now what is considered practical to one person may not be so for another who is in a very different circumstance or for the same individual at a different point in life.
Definition (Vegan Society)
In fact, this is the definition according to the Vegan Society :
Veganism is a philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude—as far as is possible and practicable—all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose; and by extension, promotes the development and use of animal-free alternatives for the benefit of animals, humans and the environment. In dietary terms it denotes the practice of dispensing with all products derived wholly or partly from animals.
As stated earlier, it is rather unclear what “as far as possible” means and why there should be a unanimous interpretation of it.
To achieve a certain degree of avoidance of animal products, the effort required to do so could be vastly different depending on factors such as ease of access, socio-economic realities, familial situations, cultural expectations, food allergies, conditions of employment, etc.
But even setting that aside, there is the question of second-order effects of our choices such as the inevitable crop deaths associated with agriculture. Why don’t vegans interpret “as far as possible” to include all the potential steps one can take to avoid crop deaths such as growing and harvesting one’s own food, identifying sources of plants that minimizes such deaths, etc? In much the same way, shouldn’t vegans also avoid buying or renting property if, as is the case with most properties, it was developed on land that had once supported sentient wildlife that has now been disrupted owing to the development to serve human needs?
There isn’t much discussion of such issues amongst vegans. And the reason for that lies in the fact that the de-facto understanding of veganism isn’t quite what is defined by Vegan Society. The default definition used by vegans eliminates the need for such ambiguity present in the official definition, and although it is rarely acknowledged as such, this default definition is the one that vegans adhere to, and it represents the bar for anyone who claims to be vegan needs to attain, and during advocacy, it is this definition that is implicitly invoked when urging people to go vegan and “cruelty-free”.
Conventional (or default) definition
Veganism involves elimination of all animal-derived or animal-tested ingredients in all products that are directly consumed—everything from food to shelter to shoes to camping gear to vehicles. In other words, it is 100% avoidance at the first order.
When I say first-order, I mean the products that are owned or used or consumed directly. All the stuff a vegan purchases, her belongings and the contents of her house for example will be free of animal ingredients. As I said, this is the definition (and not the official one) that vegans often mean both when they apply the vegan label to anyone and the adherence commitment required to be regarded as one.
Of course, most vegans are aware of crop deaths and all the other ways in which animals are exploited that are indirectly—second order and beyond—the consequences of first-order choices they make. While this is acknowledged with some genuine regret, it is very rarely the case that someone is called out for not being vegan because they are not actively minimzing these indirect sources of harm.
Ethically, I can understand that there is indeed some difference in culpability between harm that is caused based on the number of steps in the consequential chain separating the particular decision we make from the final act that deals the harm. One can imagine why eating chicken is ethically worse than, say, making a trade with someone who would invest the proceeds from it in a firm that exploits animals.
Scoop of honey vs owning personal vehicle
On the other hand, what should the ethical burdens be if it can be established that the second order harm from a certain action Y is 10 times worse that the first order harm from action X? For example, X represents having a scoop of honey once a month and Y the ownership of a personal vehicle. (To be clear, the harm arises with vehicle ownership when one considers the indirect harm caused to wildlife while constructing the highways and bridges the vehicle will be driven on, the responsibility for which surely is shared in some part by the future users of the roadways. Or, the contribution to habitat destruction induced by climate change which has been made ever so slightly worse by the emissions from that vehicle. Far-fetched? Not really. It’s all a marginal contribution isn’t it—what after all is the point of avoiding a piece of bacon when millions of pigs are going to be slaughtered every year for food any which way? Too tiny? Not really, especially when compared to a scoop of honey a month? )
In this scenario if it does turn out that the net harm from vehicle ownership over a lifetime is more than 10 times worse than that of having a scoop of honey a month, then how do we judge the ethics of the two actions?
Specifically, is it justified that vegans condemn enjoying that scoop of honey a month but are willing to condone vehicle ownership ? One might of course argue that owning a vehicle is necessary for all practical purposes but consuming honey isn’t. But is that really the case? Is having a personal vehicle absolutely necessary? Can one not manage to lead a life without a personal vehicle and instead rely on public transport or use a cycle or ride along with others? Without doubt, there are plenty of situations where a personal vehicle is indispensable and this isn’t the point of debate. It is rather that the vegan community is typically willing to accept someone who owns a vehicle as not contradicting any vegan values (as long as the vehicle does not contain animal parts; again first-order considerations trumps everything else) without much inquiry into whether the vehicle is necessary or evaluating its fuel economy, manufacturing process and other parameters that would be of relevance.
Given that the difference in harm is a factor of 10, shouldn’t there be something more nuanced than holding that eating a little honey is strictly off-limits and ownership of vehicle is okay for vegans ? What if that factor was 100?
For this and similar reasons, the conventional definition of veganism is extremely arbitrary even though more than 90% (99%?) vegans subscribe to it.
What other definition can there be then? We can come up with a consequentialist definition that takes into account all of the resulting changes that follows from a particular action.
Consequentialist definition
Veganism is a philosophy and way of life that avoids all actions X such that the harm caused to sentient beings by the sum total of all the downstream consequences of that action is non-zero.
The problem with this definition is immediate—how does one know all the downstream consequences of an action? In fact, given what we know of chaos theory, it is almost impossible to determine how a decision will play out if we took seriously all the consequences that flow from it. Even more problematically, why should almost unforeseen consequences or those that are well beyond one’s reasonable control be placed in the same category as direct harms that one can be held culpable for? However, even if this definition were to be modified to take into account how many intermediate steps are involved in a consequential chain leading to the actual harm (through some discounting procedure) , it is still very impractical.
Yet if ethical principles remain the primary motivation for veganism then this definition is useful in terms of the theoretical position that one aspires to when taking decisions related to animal welfare.
Let’s summarize the three definitions: the first or what one may describe as the official definition requires vegans to avoid as much as possible cruelty and exploitation of animals; the second requires strict elimination of all animal ingredients in the products that are directly consumed ( this is typically what is implied and understood in common parlance) and third requires avoidance of any action whose consequences involves some harm to sentient life.
First definition is a little vague, the second is well-defined but philosophically questionable and arbitrary and the third is somewhat abstract and theoretical.
While the original definition is imprecise it seems to be on the right track. Vegans will be the first to admit for example that eliminating all suffering is all but impossible. Therefore it makes sense that we can only go so far in terms of what we can accomplish in terms of reducing harm and suffering from our actions.
But how far exactly should one go and is it really important that we have a single universal yardstick to judge and decide who should or should not be considered vegan? In fact, from a philosophical standpoint, harm reduction, just like most things in life, lies on a continuum, and any boundary that one sets to distinguish between a vegan and a non-vegan is going to be arbitrary.
Let’s examine this from another lens. Taking the concept of marginal gains, we can consider the trade-off between effort and harm reduction. As much as some vegans would like you to believe, veganism is not “easy”; if it were, and further if the lifestyle entailed endless upsides and no downsides (another claim that is often glibly thrown around), then the entire world or most of it would have converted. No, the reality is that, even with the knowledge that veganism entails lesser harm in the world, the reduced contribution to greenhouse gas emissions and global climate change together with the well-established health advantages that a (whole-food) plant based diet brings, there are several reasons ranging from convenience and taste to habits, cultural practices and social difficulties that prevent people from making the switch or to relapse to consuming animal products after experimenting for sometime.
We can therefore unambiguously say that moving towards such a lifestyle entails some level of commitment, intention, planning and determination. For simplicity let’s use the term effort to capture all dimensions of it, and the magnitude of the effort to indicate the extent or degree to which one is committing to such adherence. Not all aspects of veganism require the same effort. For example, giving up red meat is likely to be a lot easier than trying to find a high-quality waterproof hiking shoe that does not use any leather. And the relative impact of those two choices could be orders of magnitude different. The harm reduced in switching from a standard omnivorous diet to one that eliminates all red meat (assuming no greater intake of other meats or fish) is far higher than whatever is the contribution of a small leather detail in a shoe that is purchased one-off and will be worn for 5 more years.
Let’s analyze this a little further.
Effort vs Harm Reduction
Let’s consider a typical individual in society who follows a typical non-vegan lifestyle—both in terms of diet and other forms of consumption and activities. Now we rank every possible change that the individual could possibly do—everything from eliminating butter to not visiting zoos to choosing ethical alternatives for household products—in terms of their harm reduction towards animals. We also consider the effort associated with each of these changes. At the top of such ranking is likely to be giving up chicken (considering their relative mass, suffering, and consumption levels) and somewhere in the middle would be cutting out dairy and further down we’ll have things like avoiding grocery items that may contain traces of animal ingredients. Concretely, a change c results in δ harm reduction and involves effort e.
Suppose the individual started making changes in the descending order of the ranking. Let’s say the person did n such changes, and we determine the cumulative effort and harm reduced by those actions as a simple sum of the individual components:
If we plot the point (E,δ ) on a two dimensional graph, and for n=1,2,3,.. , then we would get something that looks like what is shown below.
Caption: The harm reduced by an individual as a function of the effort to eliminate animal products. Notice how the curve is steep initially and flattens out indicating that more and more effort is needed to further reduce the harm. The dotted line at the top represents all the harm the individual is responsible for.
Notice how the curve is steep at the beginning where a small increase in effort leads to a large reduction in harm.. As we move along it however, the effect is less pronounced and an equal effort yields lesser gains than earlier and if we continue along the right even further, the curve almost flattens. In other words, even a large amount of effort produces only minor benefits. In fact the dotted line at the top is an upper bound—it represents the sum total of the possible harm the individual contributes to when starting off- direct and indirect, crop deaths and land-use changes - by engaging in all their usual activities. The curve tends towards that bound as we go further and further to the right, ie, as the effort increases to infinity!
If we acknowledge that complete harm reduction—attaining that bound—is next to impossible, then where along the curve should we set the boundary that defines when an individual should be deemed vegan? Is there is some ethical framework that can be used to justify such a choice? While I was deliberately vague about a “typical” individual in society, consider two individuals for whom the curves look like what is shown below (the differences being brought about by their circumstances, background, age, allergies, opportunities, etc) . Should we define the boundary for veganism based on effort or harm reduction (vertical or horizontal line parallel to the y and x axes respectively, see the plot below ) ? In other words, is a person’s claim to veganism based on the relative (subjective) effort associated with the changes they incorporate being higher than some threshold? Or is it based on whether the harm reduced by those changes is greater than some minimum? If it is the latter, then isn’t that somewhat unfair? If it is the former, then can we really quantify the effort in a practical and meaningful way? I would think not.
Caption: How do we determine the boundary for veganism? Both plots show harm-reduction vs effort curve for the same two individuals (green and orange curves). If we decide to set the boundary based on effort (represented by single red vertical line in the plot on the left) , then we naturally have two different outcomes for the two individuals in terms of harm reduced. On the other hand if we were to decide that on harm reduced (single dotted horizontal line intersecting the two curves in the plot on the right), we have two different effort levels for the two individuals.
We can now better appreciate where there isn’t a single satisfactory definition for veganism. We can either insist on the standard interpretation of first-order veganism but acknowledge that some have it a lot easier than others getting there. In that case, that cannot be the ethical minimum. On the other hand, going by the effort level alone, leads to different degrees of harm avoidance, and determining effort is vague and impractical.
Unnatural rigidity of definitions
In some sense, none of this is unexpected. If anything, this fits neatly into the category of most things in life where an attribute of interest lies along a continuum with variations across individuals/units and insisting on sharp boundaries cannot be rigorously justified.
At the same time, as I hinted earlier, it may be helpful not to hold on to these definitions too tightly in practice. We should be tolerant, and perhaps even encourage usage of terms like vegan-ish and “almost vegan” or their myriad variations. If we accept that a run-of-the-mill vegan whose adherence to the lifestyle is strict in terms of the second definition is still responsible for some harm to animals and indeed part of that harm can be avoided, why be opposed to recognizing that there can be a range of lifestyle options that are in the vicinity of it, some closer than others, and there is no reason why one is more acceptable than the other?
In my earlier discussion on this topic, I had recognized that one of the arguments to insist on adopting the conventional definition lies in the fact that there is a certain solidarity and uniformity amongst those representing the cause of animal advocacy. It represents a unified face of the community to the external world that involves a clear understanding of what is required to be a member of it. Most vegans will of course not admit to this and spelling it out that way suggests that despite some advantages to such uniformity, it limits intellectual freedom and demands a narrow conformity (while, ironically, protesting the conformity of others to the mainstream ethics of eating animals).
What is veganism anyway?
Originally posted on my blog
A very interesting discussion I came across online between Cosmicskeptic (Alex) and Earthlings Ed (Ed Winters) brought forth several points that I have wondered about in the past. In one segment, Alex poses the following question: knowing that plant-based foods also involve some harm in terms of crop deaths, isn’t it the case that anyone who consumes food over and beyond the bare minimum caloric requirement (including, and especially, vegans) is not leading a life conforming to ethical standards of veganism? Ed doesn’t give a straight answer and offers some generic caution against overconsumption. As though the question of consistency of this behavior under the puritanical requirements that most vegans insist on can be resolved with mere reference to a more general societal health problem about which vegans are nowhere as judgmental about.
This brings us of course to the question of who really counts as being vegan. In fact, that is something Alex raises too and Ed cites the standard Vegan society definition which holds that veganism is a lifestyle that “minimizes to the extent practical the usage of animal products”. The important word there is of course practical. Now what is considered practical to one person may not be so for another who is in a very different circumstance or for the same individual at a different point in life.
Definition (Vegan Society)
In fact, this is the definition according to the Vegan Society :
Veganism is a philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude—as far as is possible and practicable—all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose; and by extension, promotes the development and use of animal-free alternatives for the benefit of animals, humans and the environment. In dietary terms it denotes the practice of dispensing with all products derived wholly or partly from animals.
As stated earlier, it is rather unclear what “as far as possible” means and why there should be a unanimous interpretation of it.
To achieve a certain degree of avoidance of animal products, the effort required to do so could be vastly different depending on factors such as ease of access, socio-economic realities, familial situations, cultural expectations, food allergies, conditions of employment, etc.
But even setting that aside, there is the question of second-order effects of our choices such as the inevitable crop deaths associated with agriculture. Why don’t vegans interpret “as far as possible” to include all the potential steps one can take to avoid crop deaths such as growing and harvesting one’s own food, identifying sources of plants that minimizes such deaths, etc? In much the same way, shouldn’t vegans also avoid buying or renting property if, as is the case with most properties, it was developed on land that had once supported sentient wildlife that has now been disrupted owing to the development to serve human needs?
There isn’t much discussion of such issues amongst vegans. And the reason for that lies in the fact that the de-facto understanding of veganism isn’t quite what is defined by Vegan Society. The default definition used by vegans eliminates the need for such ambiguity present in the official definition, and although it is rarely acknowledged as such, this default definition is the one that vegans adhere to, and it represents the bar for anyone who claims to be vegan needs to attain, and during advocacy, it is this definition that is implicitly invoked when urging people to go vegan and “cruelty-free”.
Conventional (or default) definition
Veganism involves elimination of all animal-derived or animal-tested ingredients in all products that are directly consumed—everything from food to shelter to shoes to camping gear to vehicles. In other words, it is 100% avoidance at the first order.
When I say first-order, I mean the products that are owned or used or consumed directly. All the stuff a vegan purchases, her belongings and the contents of her house for example will be free of animal ingredients. As I said, this is the definition (and not the official one) that vegans often mean both when they apply the vegan label to anyone and the adherence commitment required to be regarded as one.
Of course, most vegans are aware of crop deaths and all the other ways in which animals are exploited that are indirectly—second order and beyond—the consequences of first-order choices they make. While this is acknowledged with some genuine regret, it is very rarely the case that someone is called out for not being vegan because they are not actively minimzing these indirect sources of harm.
Ethically, I can understand that there is indeed some difference in culpability between harm that is caused based on the number of steps in the consequential chain separating the particular decision we make from the final act that deals the harm. One can imagine why eating chicken is ethically worse than, say, making a trade with someone who would invest the proceeds from it in a firm that exploits animals.
Scoop of honey vs owning personal vehicle
On the other hand, what should the ethical burdens be if it can be established that the second order harm from a certain action Y is 10 times worse that the first order harm from action X? For example, X represents having a scoop of honey once a month and Y the ownership of a personal vehicle. (To be clear, the harm arises with vehicle ownership when one considers the indirect harm caused to wildlife while constructing the highways and bridges the vehicle will be driven on, the responsibility for which surely is shared in some part by the future users of the roadways. Or, the contribution to habitat destruction induced by climate change which has been made ever so slightly worse by the emissions from that vehicle. Far-fetched? Not really. It’s all a marginal contribution isn’t it—what after all is the point of avoiding a piece of bacon when millions of pigs are going to be slaughtered every year for food any which way? Too tiny? Not really, especially when compared to a scoop of honey a month? )
In this scenario if it does turn out that the net harm from vehicle ownership over a lifetime is more than 10 times worse than that of having a scoop of honey a month, then how do we judge the ethics of the two actions?
Specifically, is it justified that vegans condemn enjoying that scoop of honey a month but are willing to condone vehicle ownership ? One might of course argue that owning a vehicle is necessary for all practical purposes but consuming honey isn’t. But is that really the case? Is having a personal vehicle absolutely necessary? Can one not manage to lead a life without a personal vehicle and instead rely on public transport or use a cycle or ride along with others? Without doubt, there are plenty of situations where a personal vehicle is indispensable and this isn’t the point of debate. It is rather that the vegan community is typically willing to accept someone who owns a vehicle as not contradicting any vegan values (as long as the vehicle does not contain animal parts; again first-order considerations trumps everything else) without much inquiry into whether the vehicle is necessary or evaluating its fuel economy, manufacturing process and other parameters that would be of relevance.
Given that the difference in harm is a factor of 10, shouldn’t there be something more nuanced than holding that eating a little honey is strictly off-limits and ownership of vehicle is okay for vegans ? What if that factor was 100?
For this and similar reasons, the conventional definition of veganism is extremely arbitrary even though more than 90% (99%?) vegans subscribe to it.
What other definition can there be then? We can come up with a consequentialist definition that takes into account all of the resulting changes that follows from a particular action.
Consequentialist definition
Veganism is a philosophy and way of life that avoids all actions X such that the harm caused to sentient beings by the sum total of all the downstream consequences of that action is non-zero.
The problem with this definition is immediate—how does one know all the downstream consequences of an action? In fact, given what we know of chaos theory, it is almost impossible to determine how a decision will play out if we took seriously all the consequences that flow from it. Even more problematically, why should almost unforeseen consequences or those that are well beyond one’s reasonable control be placed in the same category as direct harms that one can be held culpable for? However, even if this definition were to be modified to take into account how many intermediate steps are involved in a consequential chain leading to the actual harm (through some discounting procedure) , it is still very impractical.
Yet if ethical principles remain the primary motivation for veganism then this definition is useful in terms of the theoretical position that one aspires to when taking decisions related to animal welfare.
Let’s summarize the three definitions: the first or what one may describe as the official definition requires vegans to avoid as much as possible cruelty and exploitation of animals; the second requires strict elimination of all animal ingredients in the products that are directly consumed ( this is typically what is implied and understood in common parlance) and third requires avoidance of any action whose consequences involves some harm to sentient life.
First definition is a little vague, the second is well-defined but philosophically questionable and arbitrary and the third is somewhat abstract and theoretical.
While the original definition is imprecise it seems to be on the right track. Vegans will be the first to admit for example that eliminating all suffering is all but impossible. Therefore it makes sense that we can only go so far in terms of what we can accomplish in terms of reducing harm and suffering from our actions.
But how far exactly should one go and is it really important that we have a single universal yardstick to judge and decide who should or should not be considered vegan? In fact, from a philosophical standpoint, harm reduction, just like most things in life, lies on a continuum, and any boundary that one sets to distinguish between a vegan and a non-vegan is going to be arbitrary.
Let’s examine this from another lens. Taking the concept of marginal gains, we can consider the trade-off between effort and harm reduction. As much as some vegans would like you to believe, veganism is not “easy”; if it were, and further if the lifestyle entailed endless upsides and no downsides (another claim that is often glibly thrown around), then the entire world or most of it would have converted. No, the reality is that, even with the knowledge that veganism entails lesser harm in the world, the reduced contribution to greenhouse gas emissions and global climate change together with the well-established health advantages that a (whole-food) plant based diet brings, there are several reasons ranging from convenience and taste to habits, cultural practices and social difficulties that prevent people from making the switch or to relapse to consuming animal products after experimenting for sometime.
We can therefore unambiguously say that moving towards such a lifestyle entails some level of commitment, intention, planning and determination. For simplicity let’s use the term effort to capture all dimensions of it, and the magnitude of the effort to indicate the extent or degree to which one is committing to such adherence. Not all aspects of veganism require the same effort. For example, giving up red meat is likely to be a lot easier than trying to find a high-quality waterproof hiking shoe that does not use any leather. And the relative impact of those two choices could be orders of magnitude different. The harm reduced in switching from a standard omnivorous diet to one that eliminates all red meat (assuming no greater intake of other meats or fish) is far higher than whatever is the contribution of a small leather detail in a shoe that is purchased one-off and will be worn for 5 more years.
Let’s analyze this a little further.
Effort vs Harm Reduction
Let’s consider a typical individual in society who follows a typical non-vegan lifestyle—both in terms of diet and other forms of consumption and activities. Now we rank every possible change that the individual could possibly do—everything from eliminating butter to not visiting zoos to choosing ethical alternatives for household products—in terms of their harm reduction towards animals. We also consider the effort associated with each of these changes. At the top of such ranking is likely to be giving up chicken (considering their relative mass, suffering, and consumption levels) and somewhere in the middle would be cutting out dairy and further down we’ll have things like avoiding grocery items that may contain traces of animal ingredients. Concretely, a change c results in δ harm reduction and involves effort e.
Suppose the individual started making changes in the descending order of the ranking. Let’s say the person did n such changes, and we determine the cumulative effort and harm reduced by those actions as a simple sum of the individual components:
If we plot the point (E,δ ) on a two dimensional graph, and for n=1,2,3,.. , then we would get something that looks like what is shown below.
Caption: The harm reduced by an individual as a function of the effort to eliminate animal products. Notice how the curve is steep initially and flattens out indicating that more and more effort is needed to further reduce the harm. The dotted line at the top represents all the harm the individual is responsible for.
Notice how the curve is steep at the beginning where a small increase in effort leads to a large reduction in harm.. As we move along it however, the effect is less pronounced and an equal effort yields lesser gains than earlier and if we continue along the right even further, the curve almost flattens. In other words, even a large amount of effort produces only minor benefits. In fact the dotted line at the top is an upper bound—it represents the sum total of the possible harm the individual contributes to when starting off- direct and indirect, crop deaths and land-use changes - by engaging in all their usual activities. The curve tends towards that bound as we go further and further to the right, ie, as the effort increases to infinity!
If we acknowledge that complete harm reduction—attaining that bound—is next to impossible, then where along the curve should we set the boundary that defines when an individual should be deemed vegan? Is there is some ethical framework that can be used to justify such a choice? While I was deliberately vague about a “typical” individual in society, consider two individuals for whom the curves look like what is shown below (the differences being brought about by their circumstances, background, age, allergies, opportunities, etc) . Should we define the boundary for veganism based on effort or harm reduction (vertical or horizontal line parallel to the y and x axes respectively, see the plot below ) ? In other words, is a person’s claim to veganism based on the relative (subjective) effort associated with the changes they incorporate being higher than some threshold? Or is it based on whether the harm reduced by those changes is greater than some minimum? If it is the latter, then isn’t that somewhat unfair? If it is the former, then can we really quantify the effort in a practical and meaningful way? I would think not.
Caption: How do we determine the boundary for veganism? Both plots show harm-reduction vs effort curve for the same two individuals (green and orange curves). If we decide to set the boundary based on effort (represented by single red vertical line in the plot on the left) , then we naturally have two different outcomes for the two individuals in terms of harm reduced. On the other hand if we were to decide that on harm reduced (single dotted horizontal line intersecting the two curves in the plot on the right), we have two different effort levels for the two individuals.
We can now better appreciate where there isn’t a single satisfactory definition for veganism. We can either insist on the standard interpretation of first-order veganism but acknowledge that some have it a lot easier than others getting there. In that case, that cannot be the ethical minimum. On the other hand, going by the effort level alone, leads to different degrees of harm avoidance, and determining effort is vague and impractical.
Unnatural rigidity of definitions
In some sense, none of this is unexpected. If anything, this fits neatly into the category of most things in life where an attribute of interest lies along a continuum with variations across individuals/units and insisting on sharp boundaries cannot be rigorously justified.
At the same time, as I hinted earlier, it may be helpful not to hold on to these definitions too tightly in practice. We should be tolerant, and perhaps even encourage usage of terms like vegan-ish and “almost vegan” or their myriad variations. If we accept that a run-of-the-mill vegan whose adherence to the lifestyle is strict in terms of the second definition is still responsible for some harm to animals and indeed part of that harm can be avoided, why be opposed to recognizing that there can be a range of lifestyle options that are in the vicinity of it, some closer than others, and there is no reason why one is more acceptable than the other?
In my earlier discussion on this topic, I had recognized that one of the arguments to insist on adopting the conventional definition lies in the fact that there is a certain solidarity and uniformity amongst those representing the cause of animal advocacy. It represents a unified face of the community to the external world that involves a clear understanding of what is required to be a member of it. Most vegans will of course not admit to this and spelling it out that way suggests that despite some advantages to such uniformity, it limits intellectual freedom and demands a narrow conformity (while, ironically, protesting the conformity of others to the mainstream ethics of eating animals).