One day, whilst eating a burger in a pub and thinking about the food chain, I ran a thought experiment in my head. I imagined being hungry and someone offering me a choice between a ham sandwich or a vegan sandwich. I could only select the ham sandwich if I was willing to shoot a pig in the head. I wouldn’t have to butcher the pig or anything else, just be responsible for its death. I decided that I would choose the vegan sandwich. This lead me to believe that by continuing to eat meat I was shirking responsibility and passing the pain of killing an animal on to someone else so I decided to go vegan. The environmental benefits were secondary and I was under no illusions as regards to health; I believed (and still do) that it is worse for you than both vegetarian and meat containing diets.
It was around 2016-2017 and I lived in a small town in northern England. Veganism was only just starting to make it into the mainstream; there weren’t any vegan options at any of the fast food places and there was about one freezer worth of vegan alternatives if you went to a large supermarket. I found transitioning over to a meat free diet surprisingly easy. The hardest thing about it wasn’t cravings for foods you couldn’t eat like you might expect. The hardest thing was the social aspect of it.
I slowly found myself being pushed out of social circles. People knew you were vegan so there was no going for a burger or a KFC or any other bonding activities over food. People would cook Linda McCartney sausages if you brought them round to a BBQ but you could tell they didn’t appreciate the extra fuss.
I tried really hard not to be the loud, shouty, fussy vegan but as soon as anyone found out the questions would start. People were curious about why I was vegan and I would tell them. The vast majority of people admitted to feeling bad about eating animals. They didn’t want to think about where their food was coming from and I was a living symbol in front of them that they could stop doing that if they really wanted to. Eating was celebration after hard work and, just with my presence, I was ruining that for them.
At the time I was heavily into fitness and I noticed that achieving my protein intake was really difficult. It would require having 3 to 4 protein shakes a day or doing lots of cooking and prep. All the natural vegan protein sources outside of protein shakes weren’t lean; they also contained lots of carbs or fats. This made hitting macros hard. Food became a chore and I didn’t feel particularly healthy. If anything I felt my health declining.
I went for a walk one day and ran the thought experiment again. I decided that yes, this time I would take responsibility and kill the pig. And that was that. At the end of my walk I went into a Subway, ordered a meatball sub and went home to eat it. I expected to have gastrointestinal distress having not eaten meat for so long but there was nothing. My body went right back to processing it as if I’d never stopped.
The one thing that this whole experience taught me is that food is tied deeply into culture and bonding. I very strongly believe that plant based sources are not going to be the solution to this problem. There is just too much social resistance to overcome.
From my experience, the only way of solving this problem is petri dish meat. Not plant based, but actual meat tissue, grown in factories. Why? People will still get the joy of eating meat and maintain their traditions without the guilt. It also has the potential to actually be better and cheaper than regular meat. If scientists can perfect the processes, they can make it taste like prime beef every time but with a fraction of the economic and environmental costs. It can be sold as an upgrade not a downgrade which is what people see veganism as.