It seems that vegans have no problem shifting their consumption of food to a part of the biota that they feel doesn’t have the capacity to understand what is happening to them or to feel or respond to the pain of the process of being harvested for our food.
I often wonder how the plant feels when the sharp cow hoof shears a leaf or stalk as it grazes. Does it mourn the loss of the immature seed heads that fall to the ground to be consumed by the waiting insect hordes or buried forever in the soil to be consumed by the soil microbes? A generation lost to a random grazer who was totally unappreciative of the effort that the plant expended sucking nutrients from soil and carefully metering out available water all the while competing with each of its anchored neighbors for vital sunlight.
As the horse grazes the pasture do the bunches of grass shout pain filled warnings to their neighbors as they are forcefully yanked from the ground by their roots and consumed whole to be digested and deposited some time later as a turd that will feed their fellow grasses? Oh the indignity of losing your closest kin to a ruminant who deposits their crushed, altered remains on your shimmering blades so that they can feed you and your surviving kinsmen. By their deaths do you so prosper.
Does the plant yearn for mobility so that it could exact some revenge upon the aggressors? Is kudzu the plant kingdom equivalent of a super-hero – taking land that humans value for farming and agriculture out of production? Do insects pass on to their plant hosts the bold tales of the lands currently under conquest by invasive plant species? Is there something in the vibrational frequencies of the bee and insect wings that conveys information to the plants about how the plants in the next field are faring? Are they suffering from lack of water on that sunny slope? Are you lucky to be growing here on the shady side of the ridge because your cousins on the other side are spindly and dry? Is the farmer currently murdering your fibrous friends with their machines that foul the air and compress the soil so that extra work is necessary before life-giving roots can once again permeate its matrix?
Does the elm or the hackberry tree feel indebted to the birds who eat their seeds and shit them out along my fence lines so that I have new bird-shit elms and hackberries to clear each year, like magic?
Were the oaks disappointed to see the jays stealing their acorns to be deposited miles away from the mother tree thus reforesting the plains on retreat of the glaciers after the last ice age or did they somehow communicate to the birds that it would be appreciated?
I think the answer to the old question about whether a tree falling in a forest makes a sound if there are no ears to hear it has to be a resounding yes. It is the chemical scream of an injured plant crying out for another opportunity at life as it crashes to the forest floor. As humans, we don’t have ears to hear these screams and have only recently documented their existence [0]. Much remains to be studied.
[0] https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/13/science/plant-defenses.ht...