Unpack � the womb's just not that into you! Self-help tips for the deeply misguided

When I went vegan a decade ago, I was almost always happy to meet another vegan (or hell, even a vegetarian, but I was a different person in those days). Today, when I find out someone is an animal advocate, I tend to worry. Are they even vegan? It's an unfortunate reflex, but it seems like a declaration of a tip of a lengthy iceberg of personal problems that includes: a need to medicate one's self-esteem by running others down, a lack of attention growing up as a child that causes people to act out negatively for the attention it brings, or a generally arrested emotional development, or a lot of masculine posturing that would be better displayed on a pro-wrestling program (no offense to professional wrestlers). How long, I wonder, till this person reveals whatever severe emotional problems they have? Dare I get to know them?

Don't get me wrong. Everyone has personal problems. I have a great many, including all of the above, as well as an inability to proofread and a contrarian personality. And the idea that we could separate out all of our own deep seated neurosis from our work� our desire to change ourselves from our desire to change the world � strikes me as problematic. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. More important, conflating our own needs as individuals, or, as bad, our needs as a movement, with what we owe nonhuman animals only reproduces the moral problem: human beings using nonhuman animals as means to their ends.

I have a sneaking suspicion that many people get into the kind of 'animal advocacy' that promotes regulated animal use and/or allows for breaking things (and adopt the sorta/semi/kinda plant-based diet proposed by the Regulationist Cabal as veg*nism) because of other emotional needs. I have a further suspicion that groups that promote regulated animal use in place of abolition understand this and cater to the emotional needs of those 'veg*ns'. There's a great deal of emotional hand holding of human beings at the expense of nonhuman animal interests in regulationist activist circles. I'm not vilifying anyone individually or as a group for having difficult emotional lives. Certainly, that would include most people in the United States. But the question I would pose is whether fostering this emotional arrest by regulationist groups among activists is really helpful to nonhuman animals or to the activists themselves.

So, I asked myself, rather than being hard-hearted, how could I play a positive role in helping these outer children come to terms with their inner adults? And so, I have written what I take to be a very thoughtful, helpful and most of all, nurturing set of self-help tips.

First, unpack, the womb's not really into you. A lot of the animal advocates I've met over the years have been really into reliving their childhoods. I find this kind of odd, but far be it from me to comment extensively on anyone's fetishes. My mother said I was born in a suit and a serious expression. I always wanted to be an adult, even as a child (and, of course, now that I'm an aging adult, I'm fighting it tooth and nail). Certainly, I understand the desire to correct a bad childhood. But when it comes to advocating for nonhumans, I'd suggest we put away childish things. The idea of drinking, eating candy bars, etc., for the animals is misguided. It's an opportunity for vegans (and not just vegans) to indulge themselves like everyone else, and although that's fine within reason, it's not activism.

Second, spit your thumb out when you talk so that adults can understand what you're saying. Harsh? Perhaps. But many of the vegans I have known over the years have been remarkably unclear, or worse, in their politics. Saying things like �it's a personal choice!� or �I'm not vegan, I just eat a plant-based diet� or other nonsense because we're afraid of someone else's judgement harms the interests of nonhuman animals. This reflects both a deep confusion and certain amount of moral dereliction. That doesn't mean that every discussion of veganism has to be a confrontation. But as Bob Torres has already more eloquently put it, �meek vegans suffer� and more important, they fail to be a firm voice for those who can't speak for themselves. Part of what we owe nonhuman animals is a clear and firm voice.

Finally, try to remember, it's about their emancipation, not yours. Not every little difference of opinion is a insult heaped upon your personal head. Veganism is, primarily, about paying what we owe to nonhumans because they have a right not ot be used as property, not medicating ourselves. If we're feeling blue, what makes us think that it's a nonhuman animal's job to make us feel better? Of course, I cuddle my cats and I have my own oxytocin addiction. And there's nothing wrong with thinking about the enormity that nonhuman animals face in order to put your own life in perspective. Things could always be worse is a truism, but it's often a helpful way to think about things. However, there's a difference between this and replacing our anti-depressants and a session with our psychologist with activism that promotes regulated animal use or engages in petty vandalism so that we can feel a sense of accomplishment based on falsehoods. Animals are not ours to use, whether it's to solve our emotional problems, to train and motivate staff or any other human reason.

I know. I'm terribly mean, but think of it as tough love. Be brave, little vegans! You can do it!! Not only do I believe in you, if nonhuman animals can't rely on you, who can they?