Veganism as Sexism?

“We put the meat on the pole, not on the plate,” proclaims the enlightened slogan of Portland’s first, and only, vegan strip joint, Casa Diablo. Offering the perfect blend of animal-friendly philosophy and female objectification, owner Johnny Diablo aims “to save as many lives as possible and to break down the myths in any way possible” —namely, the myth that a refusal to eat meat compromises one’s masculinity. Labeling his critics “feminazis,” Diablo denies that he is substituting the exploitation of women for the exploitation of animals. “How are we exploiting women?” he declares. “Are we hacking off their limbs? Peeling their skin away? Putting them on a barbeque?”

While Mr. Diablo may have overestimated the purchasing power of Oregon’s vegan chauvinists—he recently put his strip club up for sale on craigslist—other prominent vegan activists display a similar willingness to exchange the objectification of animals for the objectification of women. Typically defended by the weak retort “sex sells,” these endeavors have prompted critics to brand veganism as a sexist ideology—a damaging charge given veganism’s place within a broader progressive program. PETA has unapologetically commandeered the female body to promote its agenda, from its long-running “rather go naked than wear fur campaign” to last month’s London showcase of a pregnant woman, breasts exposed, caged, and on all fours, intended to protest the maltreatment of pigs. And the Vegan Vixens, an animal-activist twist on the Pussycat Dolls, pose for pin-up shots in pleather between appearances at the Playboy mansion and on the Howard Stern show.

In light of our society’s pervasive equation of meat-eating with masculine dominance, such minglings of the anti-meat agenda with misogyny assume added complexity. The ostensible absurdity of a vegetarian weight-lifter exposes a deep-rooted cultural fiction: that men gain strength and virility through eating the flesh of other mammals. Although, from a nutritional standpoint, meat may do more to clog men’s arteries than to build their muscles, meat retains symbolic power: The slaughter and consumption of animal flesh serves as a means for men to assert their dominance over nature (and, by extension, over women).

Historically, acquiring meat was a role performed by men, as hunters, while women, as gatherers, were responsible for obtaining vegetables. Studies have demonstrated an inverse relationship in premodern societies between women’s empowerment and the importance of meat: The more limited women’s economic position as food providers, the more circumscribed their social status. Processing plants may have replaced man in his role as hunter, but he still demands control over the preparation and cooking of meat, most notably through the masculine pastime of “grilling.”

An etymological examination further exposes meat as a decidedly non-gender-neutral term. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, "meat," in its slang usage, can refer to “the human body (esp. a woman’s body) regarded as an instrument of sexual pleasure,” as well as both female and male genitalia. The less academic, but no less authoritative Urban Dictionary defines meat as both sexual intercourse (with the charming example “I’d like to meet Jessica Alba and then meat her”) and as a derogatory term for freshman girls.

A sexy man is a “hunk”; a sexually exploited woman complains of being treated like a “piece of meat.” Meat represents the essence of something: We strive to “get to the meat of a matter”; in contrast, vegetables denote the comatose and the mentally disabled. When used in connection with man, meat is power: It is the life-giving sex organ and the ability to dominate over others, both physically and sexually. Yet, when used in connection with woman, meat implies objectification: The severing of the female from her full emotional self to construe her as an object for male consumption.

Men’s aversion to veganism thus hinges on more than the unappetizing aroma of tofurky: It is grounded in a deep-seated historical, cultural, and psychological framework that conflates meat with manliness and might. By enlisting female meat to distract men from consuming actual meat, the endeavors of Johnny Diablo and his activist peers delve into a more complexly contested territory than the rationale “sex sells” suggests. Pitting the masculine and feminine meanings of the term against each other, they simultaneously exploit men’s anxieties of losing meat as a source of power and reduce women to passive pieces of meat, only satisfying the fantasies of the male viewer.

These attempts to redirect men’s energies from eating meat to viewing it are unacceptable. The agendas of animal and female empowerment need not clash. If anything, exposing the objectification of animals is a powerful vehicle for illuminating the objectification of women. Rather than viewing the two causes as a trade-off, vegan activists, in betraying the hegemonic process whereby animals are removed from the idea of meat, should underscore the similar process whereby females are packaged as objects for the male gaze. Without the allure of attractive, naked female bodies, such a project may garner less shock-and-awe publicity. Yet, if vegan activists wish to maintain the consistency of their liberal agenda, they must eschew trading the exploitation of one vulnerable group for the exploitation of another.


Courtney A. Fiske ’11, a Crimson editorial writer, is a social studies concentrator in Lowell House. Her column appears on alternate Tuesdays.