“Shhh! Don’t call the dog chubby, you will hurt her feelings,” admonished my son when he was about eight years old. 

We were out walking when we encountered a portly beagle, and that was his reaction after I fondly said to the dog, “Oh, aren’t you a chubby one?”

In that moment, my son showed that he felt sympathy for the dog. I was touched and proud. (Fat shaming and its effects would be a whole other blog topic for another time!)

I was reminded of this incident from many years ago when I read an article in the journal Pediatric Research reporting that children who grow up with companion animals tend to be more compassionate and empathetic than other children. The article described a study by the University of Western Australia and Telethon Kids Institute that revealed that children aged 2 to 5 who live in a home with a dog were found to be 30 percent less prone to antisocial conduct than those from families who didn’t have a furry friend, and were 34 percent more likely to participate in considerate behaviors, such as sharing and cooperating with others. That’s significant but not surprising!

Children are better able to develop kindness and empathy through their early connection with a being of another species. Having grown up with a beloved dog could have explained my son’s concern that the dog we encountered on the street could be hurt by what I said. I believe that most children grow up with a love of and empathy for animals, but when they are encouraged to eat and use animal-derived products as they grow up, they must shut those feelings off. Our culture perpetuates that schism.

Let’s explore the differences among empathy, sympathy and compassion, three terms that are often used interchangeably but don’t actually mean the same thing. 

• Empathy is a term we use for the ability to understand other people’s feelings as if we were having them ourselves. You viscerally feel what they are feeling.
• Sympathy refers to the ability to take part in someone else’s feelings, mostly by feeling sorrowful about their misfortune. You can understand what they are feeling. You can imagine why they feel that way, but you don’t feel the pain along with them.
• Compassion is having sympathy or empathy and then taking action accordingly. When you are compassionate, you feel the pain of another (i.e., empathy) or you recognize that the being is in pain (i.e., sympathy), and then you do your best to alleviate their suffering.

I have much empathy when it comes to the suffering of animals. I keenly feel the misery and terror that they feel when imprisoned, exploited or slaughtered. If I merely had sympathy, I might say something like, “I feel bad that the cow had to die for me to have a burger, but that is the circle of life,” or, “I am sorry that the pig had to die, but I need my protein.”Among other actions, I have demonstrated my compassion by protesting pet stores that sell puppies from puppy mills, where both the adult dogs and the puppies are exploited terribly and treated as commodities.  One might also volunteer at a farmed animal sanctuary or animal shelter, or write letters to legislators on behalf of suffering animals. There are countless ways to put your compassion into action.

Some animal rights groups, such as www.VeganOutreach.org, use virtual reality (VR) headsets to immerse viewers in the life-and-death experience of animals that we choose to use for food. It is a heart-wrenching insider’s view that enhances the empathy that people feel towards animals that are used for food.  Walking in the shoes of an exploited animal and seeing what they see is a very powerful and an effective way to create empathy in the viewer. If you ever have an opportunity to see what happens to farmed animals through a VR headset, I recommend it.  Your sympathy might turn into empathy and you might reconnect with the animal-loving child within. You might then choose to take compassionate action, as I have. All it takes to be more empathetic towards animals is to allow yourself to see the unvarnished truth. 

Do you have empathy, sympathy or compassion for animals?

Susan Costello, MA, LMHC, CPCC, is a counselor and life coach who has been in practice for decades. She lives near Seattle, WA and now only works virtually. She has been vegan for 21 years. For more information, visit her website at www.ExceptionalCoaching.com.

Beginning in 1951, Solomon Asch, a Gestalt psychologist and pioneer in social psychology, devised a series of experiments to examine the extent to which pressure from other people could affect a person’s judgment.  Groups of seven to nine individuals were gathered in a classroom to participate in what they were told was an experiment in visual discrimination.  They were asked to match the length of one line with three other lines.  Each group did 18 comparisons, giving their answers out loud.  The crux of the experiment was that only one of the participants was the real subject of the study, the others were part of the study and were told in advance whether to unanimously give the correct or incorrect answer.  The real subjects always gave their answer last or close to last.

The results of the experiments revealed that on average, roughly one third of the subjects conformed to the “fake” participants, even when the answers the study participatns gave were clearly wrong.  In the control group, participants wrote down their answers and were free from the experience of sharing their responses in front of the group.  The control group gave the correct answer 98 percent of the time.  The discrepancy between the research subjects’ accuracy and the control groups’ accuracy in giving the correct answer had to do with the group experience not that they could not accurately assess similar lengths of lines.

Subjects who conformed were asked questions after the experiment.  The reasons they gave for their conformity fit into two reasons.  One was that they wanted to fit in with the group and to be liked and accepted.  Subjects knew that the group was giving the wrong answer, but they did not want to risk being rejected.  This is called “normative influence.” The other reason was that many of the participants doubted themselves, decided that they must be wrong and the confederates were correct and better informed.  This is called “informational influence.”

Conformity can be helpful for a society to run smoothly.  However, conformity also facilitates harmful social norms such as slavery, racism, sexism, heterosexism, or any of the other prejudices sanctioned by the dominant group.  If it is so difficult for people to go against social pressure when the disagreement is a basic fact of line length, we can only imagine how much harder it is to go against the grain when more intangible aspects are involved, as it is for social justice issues.

Because it is quite difficult for someone from the dominant group to step outside his or her social norms and decide that present day mores do not fit with his or her values of compassion or justice, when someone does, it is a cause for celebration and quite a feat of courage.  The difficulty in going against the majority may explain why socially progressive movements are often initiated and generated by a small group of dedicated people.

A prejudice that not many people are familiar with is called “speciesism.”  Richard Ryder, a psychologist, coined the term speciesism in 1970 to refer to the prejudicial belief that humans are exceptional, or so superior to other animals who are not human that we can use them as we wish.  As with other prejudices, like racism or sexism, the treatment of an individual is determined by their membership within a particular group.

Speciesism is what allows us to share our homes with dogs and cats, but eat pigs, cows, and chickens. Marc Bekoff, cognitive ethologist and author of The Emotional Lives of Animals: A Leading Scientist Explores Animal Joy, Sorrow, and Empathy – and Why They Matter, explains, animals who some people eat “are like our companion animals, and have feelings, experience pain, care about their friends and family, and are aware of what is happening to them and around them” (personal communication, July 2, 2014).

Speciesism allows us to not question or allows us to dismiss as “normal” what happens to sentient beings for us to buy ice cream, leather chairs, and fur-lined coats, or make scrambled eggs. Speciesism allows us to steal wild animals from their homes and families and imprison them for our entertainment in zoos, circuses, or theme parks.  Speciesism allows us to see and participate in hunting and fishing as sport.  Speciesism allows us to restrain rabbits in tiny boxes and abuse them for product testing.

Prejudices and oppression are stories society tells itself.  During the time of the slave trade, most people in society believed that enslaved people had less inherent value than their owners.  Enslaved people were considered mere things with no rights.  For most of us today, it is hard to imagine that such a morally bankrupt belief system could be the underpinning of social norms.

Speciesism is another story society tells itself.  In the narrative of speciesism, despite being the same in the ways that matter most (having feelings, being aware of what is happening to them and around them, caring about their friends and family, wanting to be free from harm, and experiencing pain), humans tell themselves that nonhuman animals have less inherent value and are less deserving to live with bodily integrity, and free from exploitation and human-caused harm.  In the eyes of the law, nonhuman animals are considered property, just as slaves were once considered property.  Society could tell a different story about who we are to nonhuman animals.

While speciesism prevails, there is a countermeasure – veganism.  I use the term “vegan” to refer to a person whose values and choices reflect the ethical belief that no animal, human or nonhuman, deserves to be treated as a commodity and exploited; that all animals deserve the fundamental right to life, liberty and to be free from human-caused harm.

I would guess that if vegans took the Solomon Asch experiment, most, if not all, would be in the group of independent thinkers.  Vegans do not conform to speciesism, and generally not to other unjust social pressures.  Most vegans have gone through an emotional and thoughtful process to overcome their denial of institutionalized violence toward nonhuman animals (“the other”) and continue to evolve to promote fairness, justice, and peace for all in our world.  Vegans tend to be freethinkers.

Do you think being a freethinker is important?  Are there times when being a freethinker is a detriment?  What are the ways that you are a freethinker?  Are there ways you wish you were more of a freethinker?

Pig Save is part of the international Animal Save Movement. In 70 countries, Animal Save activists gather peacefully outside slaughterhouses to keep watch over cows, pigs, turkeys, or chickens, who otherwise would never know a gentle voice or a loving touch. When and where possible, as Regan Russell did that day, they tend to those animals with water and kindness. Among the Core Values listed on the Animal Save Movement website is this statement: “We all have a moral duty to bear witness. Our aim is to change the societal norm so that everyone sees it as their duty to not look away but come as close as we can and try to help.”

Because the operator of a CAFO—a concentrated animal feeding operation, commonly called a factory farm–won’t net any additional money from the body of a chicken, cow, or pig who is fed and watered in the final day or two before slaughter, animals trucked to slaughterhouses rarely receive food or water once they leave the CAFO. They might be in transit for 48 hours or more, rumbling down highways in the unrelenting heat of summer or the chilling clasp of winter. Pigs or cows are squeezed in together so tightly that it’s not unusual for animals to slip, be crushed, or suffocate under the weight of their brethren. Chickens and turkeys ride smashed into stacked cages.

By the time they reach the slaughterhouse, animals are parched and hungry and often in pain from bone fractures or other injuries sustained in transport or from rough handling during the loading process. In the United States, where six times as many pigs are destroyed in the meat industry as in Canada—a staggering 228 per minute–the only federal law offering any protection for animals in transit to slaughter was passed in 1906. It refers only to transport by rail and thus provides no protection whatsoever to animals being hauled by trucks. Attempts to expand the rule’s reach have failed.

Regan Russell, killed two days before Father’s Day, left behind both parents, a sister, and her devoted partner of many years. A vegan and animal rights activist for decades, she embodied her values and beliefs. If you are touched by her story or by what happens to animals raised to be eaten, memorialize her—and them—not by turning away, but by conducting a life that honors your own values of kindness to animals and fairness to all. In doing so, you will be treating yourself with humanity as well.

One of the most frustrating experiences a vegan undergoes is having to deal with the endless deluge of questions from society, from their meat-eating friends and family, questions that do not focus on the moral aspect of the decision they have made.

“Once I realized the real price animals pay for my lifestyle, I stopped consuming meat, milk, cheese and eggs,” says Diana, 25 years old, who has been a vegan for about six months. “I didn’t need any further explanation. The suffering to which I was exposed was enough for me to decide to make the change, but for some reason, for my friends, it wasn’t. They ask me so many questions: about nutrition, ecology, economics and whatnot. I don’t have enough information to really answer questions in all these areas. After every such conversation, I find myself searching and reading professional articles to be able to hold up my end of the conversation. It’s frustrating and exhausting.”
 

Any vegan will tell you that Diana’s struggle is a common one. It starts with a vegan’s disappointment upon realizing that the awful truths leading them to this dramatic change are not enough to lead their peers to the same conclusion. It then continues when they are barraged with questions about their choice, questions that rarely deal with the morality and ethics of veganism. To respond to these questions, the vegan realizes that she has to become knowledgeable about many areas of life that are related to veganism in one way or another.

First of all, many vegans feel they have to become familiar with all of the horrors entailed in the various industries, and know all the horrible practices in use, to explain their simple choice to avoid eggs, milk, or meat. For example, to answer the question, “What is the problem with eggs?,” a vegan carries the unbearable awareness that male chicks are thrown upon birth into massive shredders, and that hens are electrified to death when they are two years old. Or, to answer the question “Why not milk?,” vegans have to know that a cow’s milk is intended for her calf but is stolen via the routine and horrifying practice of separating the calf from the mother immediately upon birth.

Vegans must also have a working knowledge of biochemistry to rebut qualms raised about hormones in soy, and to know the difference between estrogen and phytoestrogen. The former is a sex hormone found in the milk of every lactating mother – whether human, cow, or goat – and the latter is an estrogen-like molecule that exists in soy, and, contrary to popular misconception, does not increase the risk of breast cancer (on the contrary: it activates estrogen receptors of the ERb type, which actually prevent the disease).

As if this weren’t enough, vegans must also be closely familiar with data from the famous UN report, “Livestock’s Long Shadow,” as they are frequently faced with the provocative question: “Don’t you feel sorry about the field rabbits that are killed to grow your lettuce?” The report warns that the meat, dairy and egg industries are the leading causes of environmental and climatic damage to the planet, as they are a significant cause of soil destruction, climate change, air pollution, water scarcity and pollution, and loss of biodiversity. According to the report, some 70% of the world’s agricultural land is used for the animal feed industry. To put it simply, for every three fields designated for growing plant foods there are seven fields designated for growing animal foods – meaning omnivores are responsible for the deaths of more than twice the number of field rabbits as their vegan counterparts. The report also reveals that the water used in the production of beef is ten times greater than the amount of water consumed to grow plant food of the same caloric value. Data from this report also helps vegans answer the question – “What about the children starving in Africa?”

But in battling myths and preconceptions, it’s not only data and ecology a vegan has to know. To refute claims about vegan diets being nutritionally lacking, the vegan has to know that despite the myths, a well-balanced vegan diet has no shortage of vitamins and minerals. The only possible deficiency may be in vitamin B-12, which is extracted from bacteria found in the soil, which cannot be consumed without taking supplements, given the fact that we all wash the vegetables we eat and avoid drinking contaminated and unpurified water. For this reason, most farm animals are also fed B12 as a supplement.

Then there are, of course, the claims for bias: “What about the children in the sweatshops in Asia? The refugees in Syria?” To respond to these, a vegan has to know how to say that veganism is the choice to avoid harming another being, and we are all responsible, at the very least, for refraining from harm to others. They should point out the obvious – that veganism is, among other things, an act of compassion. Therefore, many vegans have a natural compassion for humans, and donate their time and energy to other worthy causes that also include helping human beings. There are plenty of sources for this information, in books, lectures, and internet movies.

But while all these may help new vegans get tools and answers to the many questions that concern their family and friends so they can conduct productive dialog on the issues, they cannot cure the repressed and tormenting pain accompanying the realization that basic morality is not at the forefront of their relatives’ minds. Nor can they give Diana and other vegans a satisfactory explanation for the only question that each and every human should be asking: “How can I stop taking an active part in this great suffering?” For some reason, this obvious question is the one question that is too rarely asked.

Shiri Raz – PhD candidate; psychoanalysis and hermeneutics program at Bar-Ilan University, Israel. Shiri focuses her research on the psychoanalytic and linguistic aspects of people’s mental attitudes toward the consumption and use of animal-based products.

Shiri serves as a therapist for couples and individuals, specializing in work with vegans and mixed couples (vegans and non-vegans) in Israel and worldwide (through video chats). She is an animal rights activist, academic lecturer, resident lecturer for the Vegan Friendly association’s educational program and for the Animals Now (non-profit) organization, and a public speaker.

When it comes to lions, tigers, bears, and feelings, many people rest easier when they are contained.

Part of a therapist’s job involves helping clients experience and manage their difficult, uncomfortable, or scary emotions. It isn’t easy to talk about a traumatic event, or any topic that raises intense feelings. Clients want reassurance that they won’t become overwhelmed. The therapist can help by speaking slowly and calmly, holding the client in her gaze, perhaps leaning forward a bit, and giving the client time and space to speak or not. Providing that holding space is known as “containing.”

The idea of containing stems from the writings of British psychoanalyst Wilfred Bion, who described a process that plays out between a caregiver (often a mother) and an infant or very young child. When a baby has an uncomfortable internal experience—such as hunger, pain, or a wet diaper, the baby tries, in the words of Margot Waddell in her book Inside Lives, “[w]ith all the resources that his little frame can muster … to expel the pain. Through his mouth, his lungs, his musculature, his eyes, he tries to project (get rid of) the terrible sensations in an effort to relieve himself of them.”

A mother who is closely enough attuned to her child’s needs, and who herself is not encumbered by, for example, depression or anxiety, will be able to respond in such a way that the infant is comforted. It is the “correspondence between the need felt and the response given” that enables the baby to attach meaning to the experience. A baby who feels hungry, cries, and is fed, experiences the successful matching, so to speak, of an internal need and an external response. This experience helps the child make sense of the world, and helps the child feel “contained,” or held—much as a baby is literally held in a parent’s arms.

It is not only infants who seek to get rid of bad feelings by “projecting” them outward. Adults, too, when faced with unbearable stress or anxiety, often seek to expel the bad feeling. Recently someone described to me one such moment of untenable discomfort that arose while she was working from home in her apartment. Her landlord had neglected to repair a plumbing problem, and her employer-issued laptop was taunting her with repeated error messages. In the midst of these frustrations, she was taken by surprise by a mouse in her livingroom.

Discovering a critter where you don’t expect (or want) one can be disturbing even if the animal poses no real physical threat, especially if the discovery follows a cascade of other stressors.

When a person faces heightened anxiety, it is not unusual to react from that place of being overwhelmed, that place where one’s feelings are not contained, and to want to project the discomfort outward. The projection can take the form of an attack on an innocent bystander. For a tiny mouse, intending no harm and interested only in finding something to eat and a safe, dry place to raise her young, this can mean meeting her end smashed with a wooden plank, or mired and panicked in a glue trap.

If nothing else has, the coronavirus should show us that as humans encroach further and further into animals’ territory, and we strive to limit them to smaller spaces and narrower contexts, we will all pay the price. If you find a mouse in your home, rather than reaching for poisons, a glue board, or a boot, try to contain your fear, fetch a humane mousetrap, and gently usher the creature outdoors (or look up “humane pest control”). We will all be the better for it.

When I became a vegan 10 years ago, I experienced many emotions. I was excited to embrace a new lifestyle that protests injustice. I felt liberated from the belief that I had to harm animals to be healthy and normal.

The thrill of living oppression-free soon turned to rage as I opened my eyes to the crimes committed against nonhumans. I joined the animal rights movement and spent years learning how to live as an activist. I attended a variety of events, campaign meetings and protests, and I held the megaphone to lead chants.

Sadly, I didn’t always use my voice in positive ways. My anger caused me to push away people who loved and supported me. Because they didn’t share my views, I judged them.

I didn’t understand the value of good allies, fostering communication, acceptance, and creating spaces for change. It’s a process that evolves forever and requires us to be open and humble. Here are some lessons I’ve learned.

1) Human Connections Matter

It is natural for people to experience anger, sadness and frustration over the injustice of the cause they are fighting for. If they don’t deal with their pain in a healthy way, they risk speaking from the emotional pain. This can be experienced by others as judgment, anger, and shaming. Someone might delete and block a friend because of a heated exchange. This can take years to recover from, if either person makes a reconciliatory attempt.

Learn how to respectfully communicate with those who love and support you even when you are triggered, even when they disagree. Silencing them divides us into an “us vs. them” mentality. Censorship is oppression.

Society often prefers vegans to be silent.  At a barbecue, I see a roasting pig as equal to a roasting dog. I get angry, sad, frustrated, hopeless. I can speak up and make a situation uncomfortable by being “that vegan” or swallow my emotions, keep the peace and continue being invited places. You know what I’m referring to when I say “that vegan” because jokes made at the expense of the “pushy vegan” are common in our culture.

If you’ve ever complained about a pushy vegan before, stop and consider if you are pushing your views onto others in the same way. This comparison produced many lightbulb moments for my clients when talking about this topic.

When it comes to debate, discussion and dialogue about triggering topics, make sure that you have consent to give your opinion. Respect goes a long way in keeping people on your side. Plant seeds of love, even if inside you are screaming.

The psychologist Melanie Joy helped me understand how my tactics were damaging my relationships, and therefore not helping animals at all. Her book, “Beyond Beliefs: A Guide to Improving Relationships and Communication for Vegans, Vegetarians, and Meat Eaters,” discusses how to navigate relationships between people with opposing views, whether veganism is involved or not!

2) Focus on the Message

Veganism is altruism. It’s compassion, love, equality and justice. In action, it looks like showing love to the people that are triggering you the most. Radical acceptance means creating safe spaces for everyone, not shaming or guilting them into feeling bad enough to change. That rarely works.

Guilt and shame are useful emotions to process, not to inflict on others. The former is called self-work. The latter is called emotional manipulation and abuse.

When I am being silenced by society, I remember that activism isn’t about being the loudest or being right. It’s about being the change, even when you’re standing alone.

I ponder: How do I act when no one is watching and I’m making choices in my day? How do I treat others whose opinions differ from mine? Can I show grace to those on a different path?

I go inward to forgive the oppressors because we are all part of a broken system. I forgive and love myself as I strive to evolve.

3) Be the Solution, Not the Problem

Social media is the perfect stage for our unresolved emotions to play a leading role. I have been appalled and filled with sadness at how “friends” treat “friends” as they fight hate with hate.

There’s name calling and willful division, like people want to draw sides. As Ibram Kendi discusses in “How to Be Antiracist,” one can work diligently towards being antiracist while still holding racist ideas. ‘Racist’ and ‘antiracist’ describe ideas and policies — someone can hold both. Shaming someone for a racist idea and labeling them ‘a racist’ does not teach them the antiracist solution. It’s about growth and learning, not separation and segregation.

If you’re just waking up this month to injustice in the world, you probably don’t know the best way forward. Slow down. We all must do our work as we seek to create change.

4) Taking Care of Yourself Is Activism

Activism is a lifelong marathon, not a sprint. Acting from anger causes more damage than good. When I was residing in anger, my self-righteousness justified my judging others for not behaving in ways I deemed just.

Now I process emotions and balance so I can be a positive force of change. I’ve accepted that I can’t change everyone and I realize that the world gains more when I treat people with love.

Activists have a hard time taking care of themselves because it seems counterintuitive. They feel guilty if they don’t dedicate their spare time and resources to their cause. They risk burn-out and compassion fatigue, making them less effective. Leading a balanced life ensures you’ll have the stamina to stay present when it matters.

Psychotherapy, meditation, mindfulness, yoga, breathwork, hypnotherapy and dancing are ways you can go into your body to release and process emotions and to heal.

Rima Danielle Jomaa, MFT, is a licensed marriage and family therapist, hypnotherapist, vegan lifestyle advocate & yoga teacher from Los Angeles, now living in Costa Rica. She’s had a virtual practice since 2018. Rima promotes an overall program of wellness through mental, physical & spiritual health and nutrition. She approaches each client from a unique perspective as each client is unique and collaborates with them to understand their needs and goals.

She is a Gottman leader, specializes in psychedelic integration work, and enjoys working with clients that are on their spiritual path in life and needing help finding their way. rimathejunglegirl.com/therapy, Instagram @rima_danielle.

“I can’t breathe,” gasped George Floyd during his final moments, begging for Officer Derek Chauvin to take his knee off his neck, but to no avail. Chauvin did not respond, even when Floyd’s cries became “Mom, Mom” ​​- the desperate cry of a man realizing he will never rise again. Less than a week later in Israel, another tragic and horrific death occurred as the cries of Iyad Al-Halak – a 32-year old Arab with Autism – were also ignored as he pleaded for his life. Border Police officers did not listen to his cries or those of his caregiver, who knew him and called out to the police that Al-Halak was disabled – and they shot him dead. 

Such tragedies are not one-off or fleeting episodes in human history – neither in the United States nor in Israel. They are not an exception but the rule. Racism is a position according to which one group takes superiority over another, a position which, at its least harmful, is used to justify the preference of the ruling group over the oppressed and at its worst, leads to the violence, persecution, humiliation and contempt of the inferior group. It is a mental and psychological position that allows one to see the other who is different from me as inferior.

Many of us are complacent in our belief that we are innocent of racism. We assume racism is the hallmark of the primitive and the ignorant, whereas our shock and horror at the murders of George Floyd and Iyad Al-Halak go to prove our mental and psychological structure is fundamentally different. But in truth, this is not the case: the emotional mechanisms enabling us to hold other lives in such contempt do indeed exist in most of us. Because although we may cluck our tongue reproachfully and fail to understand how a person remains indifferent to the cries of a dying person, we must realize that we are not fundamentally different. We too close our hearts and shut our eyes and our ears to block out the suffering for which we are indirectly responsible. We too put our knees on the necks of others every day – and for the same terrible reason: because they are different; because they are others.

Most of us – the enlightened ones, those of us who took to the streets to protest the horrific events at the end of May or at least replaced their social media profile pictures with black photos with the hashtag “Black_Lives_Matter” are active partners in discrimination of others that is equally violent: a discrimination based on biological type. This discrimination is what causes us to pet a dog with one hand while the other hand uses a credit card to pay someone to slit the throat of a young calf. This is the discrimination that breaks our heart when we see kittens being abused but prevents us from batting an eyelid in the face of the atrocities undergone by pigs or sheep in the meat industry. This discrimination is called “speciesism.” And if it brings to mind the word “racism” – this is no coincidence.

The term “speciesism” was coined by psychologist Richard Ryder in 1970 to describe the phenomena of varying human attitudes toward different animal species. The concept was soon adopted, and by 1985 it already appeared in the Oxford Dictionary, defined thus: “Discrimination against or exploitation of certain types of animals by humans, based on the assumption of human superiority.” Speciesism is the older and more introverted sister of racism. It is the oldest model, the prototype of human superiority, upon which are based all other kinds of racism known to humankind: racism, sexuality (sexism), ageism and the likes. Interpersonal ethics philosophers Tom Regan and Peter Singer, the most prominent theorists on animal-related ethics, based their arguments on the notion of speciesism and its transparence and how widely it is accepted and taken for granted in Western culture.

Their claim, like that of many others calling to unify struggles, is that it makes no sense for one person to fight for the rights of another – Black, female, LGBTQ or any other minority – if the person fighting simultaneously takes an active part in another kind of violent discrimination. Some say it is not only ignorant or illogical but sheer and cynical hypocrisy. The call for uniting struggles is also led by activists for Black rights, including Professor Angela Davis, co-founder of the Black Panther movement in the US, Pulitzer-Prize-winning author Alice Walker and other supporters, who argue for the direct link between types of discrimination. They call upon us all to acknowledge the horrifying similarities between the way we treat animals and the way we treat people who are at the bottom of the human social hierarchy. The recurring argument of activists calling for the unification of human and animal struggles is, in simple words: Look bravely into the mirror and see whether we are consistent in mind and heart and find within us an inner truth and integrity in terms of justice and equality. Moreover, we must ask ourselves whether there is any meaning to the terms “justice” and “equality” when we use them selectively, only when they are convenient for us but not for those who need us most, as they are incapable of speaking up and communicating the injustice they undergo in human language.

Greater and wiser people than I have pointed out the connection between man’s ethical approach to animals and his relationships with other humans. Among them is Emmanuel Kant, the father of modern philosophy, who claimed: “A person who commits such acts of cruelty to animals, his heart is also crude to humans.” And that “one can know one’s heart in relation to his treatment of animals.” Mahatma Gandhi claimed, “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress are measured in its relation to animals.” And writer Milan Kundera, expressing his sad thoughts on the matter, wrote that “a truly human goodness, with its pure spirit of freedom, can only be manifested when it is aimed at those who are forcefully dispossessed. The true moral test of the human race, the test to precede all tests (which is usually concealed), is how a man treats those who are at his mercy: the animals. In this arena, the human race is completely discriminatory; such a complete discriminator that all other discriminations are nothing but its derivatives.”

Victims of discrimination are victims of discrimination, whether they are Black, female, LGBTQ, Arab, Jewish or animals, and the formula is always the same: an individual with power, who arbitrarily and violently decides that their life is worth more than another’s. As long as we continue to practice this formula on a daily basis – at breakfast, lunch and dinner – we will never be able to get rid of all forms of discrimination. Until we recognize that this is the prototype of all discrimination, and fight speciesism as hard as we fight racism, we will never be truly free.

Shiri Raz – PhD candidate; psychoanalysis and hermeneutics program at Bar-Ilan University, Israel. Shiri focuses her research on the psychoanalytic and linguistic aspects of people’s mental attitudes toward the consumption and use of animal-based products.

Shiri serves as a therapist for couples and individuals, specializing in work with vegans and mixed couples (vegans and non-vegans) in Israel and worldwide (through video chats). She is an animal rights activist, academic lecturer, resident lecturer for the Vegan Friendly association’s educational program and for the Animals Now (non-profit) organization, and a public speaker.

For example, a woman I work with who bought a puppy last fall described a moment of frustration that saddened me. Working furiously on a paper for graduate school one evening, she did not have time to play with her rambunctious puppy. She asked her boyfriend to entertain the pup, but he was absorbed by his phone, so my client shut the poor dog in his crate. Imprisoned and ignored simply for wanting to play, the dog had become, for the evening at least, little more than furniture or an unwanted plaything. I did not think it would be helpful or therapeutic to share with my client my sadness. In retrospect, however, I wish I had been able to consider the possibility that my reaction was a clue to something important the client might have been trying to tell me about what she experienced in the situation.

I understand that relatively few people—including my clients—view and treat animals with the same level of seriousness and respect as I do. Nevertheless, I was encouraged recently when one client, whom I’ll call Ned, took a hard, introspective look at the way he has treated animals over the past three decades—from the rabbit adopted on a whim in college to the puppy he and his wife picked out shortly after their honeymoon.

Ned expressed mixed feelings about the fact that he and his wife had just signed a lease on a new rental home where dogs are not allowed. They had decided, after six years of loyalty, to “re-home” their dog because keeping her was no longer convenient. I was heartbroken for the animal. When Ned first told me about his and his wife’s decision, I silently asked myself whether his parents could take temporary guardianship. As if reading my mind, he said that his parents had offered the dog a home, but Ned believed that the dog would be better off going to a “forever” home than having to go to his parents’ for a year or so and then perhaps having to move again.

Without going into detail, Ned confessed being less than proud about the way he had treated this dog over the years. With no real information to go on, I imagined benign neglect—perhaps leaving her alone and forcing her to wait overlong for food, water, or to relieve herself. I couldn’t help wondering if Ned was telling himself that the dog would be better off in her new home, where she would have a canine companion, in order to allay his guilt. Had his parents kept the dog until he and his family could have taken her back, the reminder of his past ill treatment of her would have stayed present in his life.

It isn’t wrong to get rid of something that’s associated with painful memories or uncomfortable emotions, but getting rid of someone who reminds you of your less-than-best self—especially if that someone relies on you–is more complicated.

On the other hand, did my resistance to the idea that the dog could be better off with a new family indicate a stubborn attachment to the notion that Ned was committing an egregious act against the dog? Was I as stubbornly committed to an erroneous belief about what was in the dog’s best interest as I believed my client, who has spent the last six years with the dog, to be?

My heart was breaking as my client described his predicament—breaking for the dog who was being discarded and who would never understand why, and breaking for Ned, who was clearly struggling with the decision he and his spouse had made. Honestly, I was also disappointed that someone I like and respect so much could do something so cruel. I tried to relieve my own sadness in part by remembering that, on the scale of acts of animal cruelty, pushing a dog off to what appears to be a good new home is one of the less heinous crimes one could commit. Nevertheless, that does not make it right.

As a therapist, I give clients the opportunity to explore their feelings, not tell them what I think they should do. In that moment with Ned, I had to be his therapist, not an animal rights advocate. Sometimes, especially in a world where animals over and over again receive only the merest consideration, it’s hard to be both.

In his well-known article “What Is It Like to Be A Bat?” from 1974, philosopher Thomas Nigel argues that though anyone can imagine how a bat feels, they can never truly experience the world from a bat’s point of view. In his opinion, human experience is limited in its senses and its structure of consciousness to understanding itself and that alone.

Many disagree, including Nobel Laureate J. M. Coetzee. In The Lives of Animals, Coetzee’s protagonist Elizabeth Costello argues that in the same manner, one can empathize with fictional literary heroes, one can just as readily identify with animals. The prerequisite for this understanding is the recognition that we are all mortals, sharing life and death on Earth: “If I can think my way into the existence of a being who has never existed, I can think my way into the existence of a bat or a chimpanzee or an oyster, any being with whom I share the substrate of life.”

These days, the complex philosophical discussion of our ability to share the experience of animals in our world is no longer merely theoretical. Now the tables are turned, and we can now see, hear, and breathe the world as the environment and animals do under man’s tyrannical, violent rule.

As our lungs struggle with the risk of fatal pollution, the Earth’s lungs are recovering. The skies are clear of planes, roads are empty, unimpeded, forests grow, and global air pollution is on a dramatic decline.

As we are isolated, imprisoned in our homes, many animals have been recently spotted in places where they have not set paw for centuries: monkeys are visiting certain areas of Thailand; deer visiting Japan’s desolate cities.

And, as we keep an anxious eye trained on the numbers, with their exponential increase in fatalities and infections, the marine biosphere, for which researchers have predicted death within three decades, has begun to glimmer with initial signs of recovery.

All of these are reminiscent of the ironic caricature featuring a doctor that examines a dying Earth, who gravely announces, “I’m sorry, I’m afraid what you have is humans.” We cannot but stop to consider which of the two global viruses is more dangerous – corona or humanity.

We are now forced to cope with our allegedly limited imagination when trying to conceptualize what it feels like to be a bat in a human-dominated world. Or a calf, or a chicken. Afraid, helpless and hopeless, victims of some other being that uses our bodies for its selfish use.

The desolate streets, the grounded planes, the locked amusement parks, hotels that became quarantines from which not everyone would eventually check out. All these and other images are reminiscent of futuristic dystopias and films of the apocalypse, but in reality, Bruce Willis, Ben Affleck, Linda Hamilton, or even Dustin Hoffman are nowhere to be found.

We have lost control of our health, our livelihoods and our most fundamental liberties as human beings in the free world, seemingly unable to do anything. We believe that our responsibility in preventing this pandemic – and the more sophisticated ones to ensue – amounts to basic personal hygiene and maintaining social distance. But our true responsibility goes far beyond remembering to sneeze into our elbows. Ours is the momentous responsibility to stop the maintenance and existence of those toxic, disease-riddled habitats and the source of the next (and worse!) pandemic that are chicken coops and henhouses, meat and dairy farms – all crowded with sick animals pumped full of antibiotics to keep them alive.

Only humans can create such an ironic reality in which the pandemic has shut down thousands of businesses, the economy is crippled by hundreds of thousands of unemployed, kindergartens and schools have closed – but slaughterhouses continue to operate. People stockpile their freezers with meat and fill the fridge with dairy products and eggs – all coming from the source of the next patient-zero — and fail to make the connection.

We are so busy blaming the victim, with the futile obsession with whether the virus came from a miserable bat or suffering pangolin, while deliberately avoiding the realization that all animal food industries are a ticking time bomb, a petri dish for deadly and dangerous viruses that will soon inherit the corona crown – and outdo its havoc.

We are indifferent to the possibility of saving ourselves from future pandemics. Those of us already aware of the connection between outbreaks and the animal food industry are finding it increasingly difficult to keep our anger and despair in check. It’s hard not to acknowledge the sadness behind one of the most widespread sentiments among vegan groups during this era, as we all-too-painfully know it is true: “We wouldn’t be in this mess if the world were vegan.”

We have long passed the “carrot” phase of learning about the benefits of a plant-based diet. We are currently licking the first wounds from the blows of the “stick,” many of which are yet to come, as humanity continues in its systematically violent industrialized exploitation of animals and the environment.

We will probably never know what it feels like to be a bat, but it isn’t because of any limitations on human thought or sensory capability. Rather it is because of our mere reluctance to do so. We don’t want to imagine the terror experienced by a newborn calf after being torn from his mother at birth, or the horror of a cramped truck on his journey to slaughter. We have no interest in imagining what it feels like to spend two years in a cage no bigger than your body, and your legs supported only by a mesh chain floor as you lay eggs without the ability to spread your wings or turn around. Nor are we particularly inclined to take the time and imagine how a young bat feels when snatched from his family, forcefully bound and then thrown alive into a pot of boiling water. We balk at imagining these experiences: and now we are paying a very high price for the fact they exist.

At this time of crisis, we all find ourselves forced to face an essential lesson in the actuality of suffering. The lesson – should we allow ourselves to learn it – will be the discovery of our empathy, modesty and responsibility for this planet as humans. These rediscovered abilities will enable us to hope for a better future and to give our children a world in which we all – humans and animals alike – will be able to live and breathe freely.

It would be a simpler life, more interdependent with nature, less selfish, less hedonistic perhaps – but life. As the bat promises, in the final words of “The Dark Knight”: “It will be a good life. Good enough.”

This post is by contributing writer Shiri Raz.

Shiri Raz – PhD candidate; psychoanalysis and hermeneutics program at Bar-Ilan University, Israel. Shiri focuses her research on the psychoanalytic and linguistic aspects of people’s mental attitudes toward the consumption and use of animal-based products. Shiri serves as a therapist for couples and individuals, specializing in work with vegans and mixed couples (vegans and non-vegans) in Israel and worldwide (through video chats). She is an animal rights activist, academic lecturer, resident lecturer for the Vegan Friendly association’s educational program and for the Animals Now (non-profit) organization, and a public speaker.

Vegan and vegetarian diets are largely considered to promote health more than the typical American diet with its emphasis on meat, eggs, and dairy products. Yet, as we have seen, people who test positive for the novel coronavirus are more likely to have bad outcomes if they also have certain pre-existing conditions, such as heart disease, lung ailments, hypertension, diabetes, or severe obesity—that is, individuals with a body mass index of over 40 (compared with a BMI of 19 to 25, which is considered healthy). A diet rich in fruits, vegetables, and legumes has been found, in study after study, to protect people from most of those illnesses.

I am not a doctor or nurse–I don’t even play one on television–so I encourage you to do your own reading, and to address your personal situation with your primary care provider.

If you’re already vegetarian or vegan, congratulations! You are probably eating much better than the typical U.S. citizen. But all vegan diets are not created equal. After all, you could avoid animal products on a diet of Oreos and potato chips.

To optimize health, Dr. Hooman Yaghoobzadeh (@DrYaghoobzadeh), a cardiologist with the Cornell Medical Center in New York City, recommends focusing on whole foods and limiting processed foods. Whole foods are those that you can imagine appearing in nature. Oranges grow on trees, blueberries form on bushes, tomatoes hang from plants, and beans grow on vines, but you don’t see granola bars sprouting from the earth or lasagna noodles hanging from trees. The act of processing foods generally adds sugar and takes away fiber. As our nation’s sugar intake has grown steadily to about 50 kilograms (110 pounds) per person per year, so has the rate of obesity, which, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, recently surpassed 40 percent of U.S. adults.

When you do eat processed foods, favor those that have a low carbohydrate-to-fiber ratio, which you can determine by dividing the number of grams of carbohydrates in a food by the number of grams of fiber. Look at the nutrition label on a box of cereal or a package of cookies and you will find, usually a little more than halfway down, in bold print, a listing for grams of carbohydrate per serving. Right below that number is the amount of fiber. Nature Valley Apple Crisp granola bars have a carb-to-fiber ratio of 29 to 3, or almost 10. By contrast, frozen peas—which are hardly processed at all—have a ratio of 12 to 4, or just 3. When you choose processed foods, aim for a ratio of no more than 7 or 8.

You don’t have to throw out all your processed foods, but try to balance them with less-processed foods. If you’re cooking up a bowl of pasta, toss in some frozen peas or broccoli for the last minute of cooking, and coat with a little olive oil instead of a store-bought sauce.

One of the health benefits of a plant-based diet is fiber. High-fiber diets protect against heart attack, colorectal cancer, and other gastrointestinal disorders. Fiber also aids intestinal motility, so that food moves through your digestive system more quickly. If you eat a lot of meat, which contains zero fiber, it stays in your gut for longer periods. Meat that sits around too long—whether in your gut or on the kitchen counter–turns rancid.

If you aren’t yet vegetarian or vegan, or if you’re worried about the health of someone who still eats animals, take comfort in knowing that healing can begin with a single meal. The documentary The Game Changers shows how a single meat-heavy meal can impair blood flow as compared with the body’s response to a meal of plant foods. Dr. Neal Barnard of the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine (www.pcrm.org) has found that within weeks or even days of starting a vegan diet, patients experience a reduction in arthritis pain, menstrual cramps, and (in diabetics) a need for insulin. Dr. Dean Ornish states in the film that people who eat a lot of animal products are 75 percent more likely to die prematurely of any cause than those who favor plant foods. With the novel coronavirus potentially lurking around the next turn in the grocery store, wouldn’t it be comforting to know that you and those you love are consuming the most protective diet you can?

Of course a vegan can be obese, get cancer, develop diabetes, or have high blood pressure, but all of these conditions are exacerbated by a diet in which beef, chicken, milk, and cheese form the focus.

Hypertension is a risk factor for heart attacks and stroke. Many doctors treat it with medication, but it can also be controlled by exercise and a change in diet. A meatless diet can reduce blood pressure by 10 or 11 points, the same as a high dose of medication. If you or someone you know has been advised to limit salt intake, you should know that the top three sources of dietary sodium, according to Dr. Yaghoobzadeh, are chicken, cheese, and bread (not necessarily in that order).

Vegans, of course, also face the risk of contracting the coronavirus that is spreading like fire through our cities and towns. But if you consume a range of fruits and vegetables on a regular basis—foods bearing a whole palette of colors—your body is more likely to have the nutrients it needs to support immunity. Please pay attention to what you put into your body. An animal’s life—or your own–could depend on it.