The Indeterminable Vegetarianism of Jell-O Shots
Listening: "Apple Bed” by Sparklehorse
Reading: Children of Tomorrow by J.R. Burgmann
Watching: Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt
Wanting: VCR & a SpongeBob CRT TV
I started writing a post in mid-November that was all about the variety of “exceptions” that I make in my life, particularly those pertaining to my moral system. The “small” but clear example that inspired me to consider the topic was the Jell-O shots my roommate and I made for our Halloween party, which I consumed without guilt despite my vegetarian diet. Although the gelatin content didn’t bother me much in the moment (and even less so with each cup), it was causing an uncomfortable dissonance between my beliefs and my actions when I reflected afterwards. I’ve never thought of myself as a “bad person” for these rare lapses (the occasional ambiguous gummy candy, a cheeky Jell-O shot or seven), but they actually misalign with my belief that it is immoral to consume the body of a non-consenting animal. I started writing, and I asked myself these questions:
Is it possible to be aware of your own cognitive dissonance(s), or must the contradictory beliefs that you hold—in this instance: “Consuming animals is wrong” & “It’s fine if I indulge in some Jell-O shots, even if they contain animal bones”—be definitionally subconscious?
What does it mean if I know that my conscious choices occasionally, but clearly, contradict with my essential moral beliefs?
On November 6th, I wrote:
I like to think of myself as confrontational when I need to be, honest, and not fake with others. I am loud about my beliefs and I have no difficulty defending them if it comes to that. Overall, I am proud of how open I am about my opinions and feelings. The one person that I sometimes have a hard time being honest with is myself. I’ve been vegetarian for almost six years, and for the last two or three of them I’ve been dealing with a lot of inner moral conflict about this diet. I have known for some time now that if I was acting in accordance with my morality, I wouldn’t be vegetarian at all, but vegan, because I know that the egg and dairy industries are arguably just as horrific as the meat industry. To rationalize these contradicting beliefs, I have excused my “inability” to commit to a plant-based diet (and the guilt associated with this) with various justifications (mild ED discussion):
- I have struggled with eating in the past; I’m worried that further restricting the foods that I can consume will nudge me back into old habits, control-seeking, and an unhealthy/obsessive relationship with food;
- My support for the industries exploiting animals is lower than a meat-eater, resulting in “I’m already doing my part!” thoughts; and
- I already have a low protein intake, and without staples like eggs, paneer, etc., this will likely drop even lower, which could raise some health concerns (especially being someone who rarely has the time/energy to maintain a balanced diet as it is).
After writing this list, I felt stuck, I felt sick, and I felt like a big, fat hypocrite. I didn’t write a word more because my justifications were hollow and because it felt like whatever I wrote, I was lying to myself. By November 26th, I swore off animal products, and I’ve been 99% good about sticking to veganism since then (once I drank tea at a restaurant that was suspiciously milky, but I’m trying not to be a puritan about that instance). Once again, I proved to myself that once I write out my thought process, and try to justify something that is morally conflicting for me, it is often revealed to me that the something isn’t, in reality, all that conflicting, and I’ve just been doing a pretty darn good job of ignoring it, of pushing it down and praying (Lizzy McAlpine mentioned) that I would forget and continue to act in blissful ignorance. This isn’t meant to apply just to veganism, if that wasn’t already clear. I promise this blog won’t turn into my own personal-PETA-esque-proselytization-station.
(If it did, though, hypothetically, I could talk about the egg industry that grinds living male chicks in macerators, overcrowds “living spaces” to point of torture, and neglects to remove rotting corpses from shared cages, or the dairy industry which systematically rapes female cows and orphans their calves in order to maintain a consistent production of milk. OKAY NO MORE PREACHING I HAVE STEPPED DOWN FROM MY SOAPBOX I’M SORRY).
This consistent, unignorable distress manifests as a sort of mental gymnastics, which boils down, essentially, to an exercise in trying really hard not to care. This is an exercise in manipulation, and arguably the most sinister genre—self-manipulation. I recognize that there are pros and cons to this sort of black and white thinking. I recognize that there is something innate to my Self that forces me to reach clear, logical, defendable conclusions. I think it’s a human thing first, a neurodivergent human thing second, and a me thing third. I hate the back burner when it comes to morality. I hate neutrality. I hate the limbo. I probably sound young rejecting the back burner this way. Of course my morals need to cook, I’m barely an adult, and as far as I’m concerned, 21 shouldn’t be considered an adult to begin with. Of course there’s beauty in the limbo, of course there are nuances. Yes, yes, yes. I take real (or theoretical) moral dilemmas on a case-by-case basis. When it comes to habits or the ongoing decisions I make in my own life, however, I find that I spend a lot of my conscious and subconscious energy working on the contradiction or lack of conclusion, it’s always cooking on one of the back burners of my mind, and there’s already too many burners in use up there constantly. I’ve realized that I need to do myself the favour of tying things up, at least temporarily, because I like to think I’m always open to being convinced of anything.
There’s another conclusion I’ve been fighting towards lately. I've been thinking about Christian holidays and how, despite their current distance from actual religion (in favour of commercialism/consumerism), I don't feel confident in my participation in them. As someone who loves language and sees the value in the history of a word (e.g. I try my best not to use ableist terms like “lame,” “psycho,” “spaz”), it feels inconsistent to celebrate a holiday even named after a “Christ” as an atheist. Worse even, one that originated with the birth of a religious figure that I don't believe even existed, or one that celebrates his subsequent death and revival (which I like to refer to as his "organized weekend holiday").
Being the selfish atheist I am, though, of course I need to find a way to continue to participate in the traditions that I do enjoy (Xmas: the tree, decorations, gifts, music), whilst ignoring any religious aspects/nomenclature related to the holiday. Maybe next year you guys will be receiving Winter Solstice gifts under the scientific method tree. Hanging your peer-reviewed large socks by the chimney with evolutionary levels of care. * Wipes tear * Darwin Claus would be proud.
I suppose I should have written this blurb as a disclaimer rather than what now resembles an afterthought, but the feelings and opinions I’ve been describing are personal to me. It’s not my intention to assert myself on any moral high ground or convert you lovely spiritual creatures to my lacklustre atheist regime. I hope my writing doesn’t read this way.
Anyway. Thank you for reading, my friends!
Abby