On Monday, a coordinated series of animal rights protests took place across the country. Vegan protestors occupied abattoirs in Queensland, NSW and Victoria, and blockaded one of Melbourne's busiest intersections. To say these protests were controversial would be an understatement.
Social media was flooded with angry meat-eaters posting photos of their meat-based meals, which they claimed were inspired by the 'vegan terrorists' or 'vigilante vegans'. The Prime Minister called the protestors 'unAustralian', arguing: 'This is just another form of activism that I think runs against the national interest, and the national interest is [farmers] being able to farm their own land.'
More intriguing, to me, was the reaction of many progressive people, who expressed responses ranging from discomfort to outright rage. The protestors were accused of using coercive tactics to force their personal views on other people, and of choosing tactics that didn't help their cause because they were either disruptive to traffic, trespassed on private property, or harassed farmers. Others accused vegans more broadly of being racist, classist, ableist and blind to their privilege.
Frankly this topic is a minefield, and it's impossible to respond thoughtfully to all of these critiques in the space of a short column. So, let me briefly address one issue upfront: the concerns around white veganism and its blindness (and worse) to other systems of domination and oppression are completely legitimate and deserve serious attention, but they do not fundamentally undermine the central ethical arguments of veganism.
Furthermore, white people didn't invent veganism — the ethical concept of Ahimsa, or compassionate nonviolence, for example, is a key tenet of Jainism, Buddhism and Hinduism, and has led many to adopt essentially vegan lifestyles.
In apparent contrast to the principle of Ahimsa is the biblical call for dominion. This occurs at several points in the Christian Bible, but the most relevant is Genesis chapter 1 verses 26-28: 'Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.'
While theological debate continues as to the true meaning of these verses (with many arguing — convincingly to my mind — that the original text implies a kind of responsible, even compassionate, stewardship), the fact is that our culture has largely adopted a concept of dominion that equates to righteous domination over the earth.
"Veganism is a key part of a broader attempt to reject this damaging ethos of domination and to fundamentally challenge the structures and practices that normalise and uphold it."
It is this concept of dominion that is portrayed and challenged in the Australian documentary, Dominion, the 12-month anniversary of which prompted Monday's protests. Only a sense of righteous domination could justify the structural and systematic violence that is inflicted on nonhuman animals in the overwhelming majority of animal agriculture — violence that is captured in excruciating detail in frame after frame of the film.
Similarly, only a sense of righteous domination could justify our pillaging of the earth for timber, minerals and other 'resources'. Tellingly, the words Morrison used in response to the vegan protests were eerily similar to the words government ministers used to condemn the successful litigation against Adani's Carmichael coal mine. Those litigants were also labelled 'vigilantes' and condemned for acting against the 'national interest'. This ethos of domination is foundational to capitalism and to the colonial project it spurred.
And the results have been devastating. By arrogantly holding ourselves above nature, we have caused untold destruction to the ecosystem and ourselves.
For me, veganism is a key part of a broader attempt to reject this damaging ethos of domination and to fundamentally challenge the structures and practices that normalise and uphold it — and so I do understand the reactions of the angry meat-eaters and our Prime Minister. This system under which (certain) humans exercise dominion — or righteous domination — over the rest of the planet has gone unquestioned for so long in our culture that it seems as natural as the air we breathe. The foundational role that it plays in our way of life and our identity makes it inevitable that any challenge will be met with controversy, even anger.
And this brings me back to the progressive critiques I mentioned above, since very few of them would be levelled against other kinds of environmental activism. Nit-picking about tactics or the ethics of 'forcing your choices on others' is most convincing if you see veganism as an apolitical, personal choice. But many vegans are not seeking the right to individually step outside of a damaging system of domination, they are fighting to dismantle it.
Personally, I have hesitated in the past to adopt such a hardline attitude — believing that a holistic approach that recognises the value of incremental change might be more effective. But, ultimately, I changed my mind and have even started to wonder if giving out cookies for supporting 'humane' slaughter does much more than help to perpetuate the entire system.
Of course we are all going to fall short, but if systematic domination is both damaging and unethical, then the only defensible goal is to reject it wholesale. We are just too good at making excuses for ourselves to aim for anything less.
Dr Cristy Clark is a lecturer at the Southern Cross University School of Law and Justice. Her research focuses on the intersection of human rights, neoliberalism, activism and the environment, and particularly on the human right to water.
Main image: Promotional image from the movie Dominion shows a cow about to be slaughtered.