2018 Was the Year Veganism Lost Its Status as a Moral Signifier
Credit to Author: Hannah Ewens| Date: Thu, 27 Dec 2018 13:28:59 +0000
No one asks why you’re vegan anymore. It was previously a question people needed answering before moving forward in their conversation with you: What necessitates this aggressive lifestyle choice? Do you believe animals shouldn’t be used for food? Or that your carbon footprint should be reduced? Or are you just a hipster, substituting a personality for a plant-based diet?
In 2018, fewer people need an explanation, because the explanation invariably isn’t all that interesting. No one cares – bar my nan, who is forever destined to grapple with why I don’t take milk in my tea.
Veganism as a word, a concept, shed much of its loadedness exceptionally quickly. Its public image has undergone a vast transformation over the past few years. In 2014, veganism was considered the height of pretension. In 2016, I wrote for VICE that veganism was being wrongly conflated with clean eating and wellness; during that cultural moment, it was seen as an extension of the Hemsley sisters: thin, privileged, white and irritating – when, in fact, many vegans are the exact opposite. By 2017, veganism was more seriously on the rise, with businesses on the vegan junk food trend, like Temple of Seitan, opening in Hackney; vegan pop-up Club Mexicana opening its first permanent site; popular US chain By Chloe launching in the UK; and Veggie Pret even firming up a permanent branch in Shoreditch.
This year, veganism fully mainstreamed. Look to bastions of beige Lewis Hamilton and will.i.am. who went vegan, or the 3.5 million vegans in the UK alone. Supermarkets across the country have embraced it – to profit, of course, from the vegan pound. New lines and products were launched for the largest Veganuary ever, some of which I critiqued at the time for being too expensive or just not tasting great. Still, you can now walk into almost any decent supermarket and buy vegan cheese.
What this evolution means is that, for the first time ever – for those in their thirties and under, at least – veganism holds little moral weight. It doesn’t signify all that much, not restraint or control or sacrifice. It doesn’t mark you out as any “sort” of person or part of any subculture – or even holding any particular beliefs, although you might.
For all the disdain it frequently has directed at it – from myself included – PETA has a track record of success with this type of bolshy, ambitious activism. “Whether you agree with it or not, PETA, more than any other organisation I know, are never scared of getting headlines, whether they’re good or bad,” a press officer for the organisation told me in 2016. “To be honest, PETA isn’t here to be nice. We want to start a debate. We are a protest group, even though we are a charity.”
The spokesperson pointed to fur as an example where high-profile controversial PETA ads – remember the “I’d rather go naked than wear fur” ones featuring naked celebrities? – resulted indirectly in a passionate change of public opinion. They get people annoyed and talking: it’s basic viral marketing.
It’s clear that veganism is fracturing as it grows. In broad strokes, this looks like a minority of pious vegans and an increasing number of vegans who just get on with it, happy with their vegan cheese and fake chicken nuggets. Veganism doesn’t feel like it has to stand for something these days – in the UK, at least, the “fight” has largely been won. You have all your replacement products, your vegan restaurants and cafés; people don’t necessarily view animal products as an essential part of a diet; your mates and girlfriend are doing the “vegan thing”.
Why are you a vegan? It’s just a thing to do, because you can.
This article originally appeared on VICE UK.