Abstract
This study examines mobilization processes with a particular focus on how people come to contemplate and embrace or reject veganism. Engaging the narratives of 33 interview participants who interacted with vegan advocacy networks in Greater Philadelphia, the study accounts for how prospective vegans negotiate forces, such as social networks and ties, that activate or hinder their mobilization; and for how they prioritize veganism among other priorities. Among other manners, participants came to contemplate the prospect of becoming vegan upon recognizing veganism as congruent with their other priorities. Participants who became vegan were more likely than participants who did not to prioritize altruism, to seek information that motivated and empowered them, and to deploy strategies to attenuate antagonism. The study’s findings suggest that participation in food movements is contingent on how prospective participants prioritize, on the incentives and mindset with which they contemplate participation, and on their capacity to participate.
Personal Reflexive Statement
I practice veganism because I recognize that nonhuman animals have an interest in living, an interest that I can respect by, at the very least, not consuming them. I have advocated for animals in a variety of venues, including Peace Advocacy Network vegan pledge campaigns, through which I met many of the interview participants whose narratives I analyze in this article.
Introduction
Previous scholarship on social movements, including food movements, has found that the potential of an individual to participate in a particular movement increases if identifications of that individual are recognized as congruent with the collective identifications of that movement (Gecas 2000; McAdam and Paulsen 1993; McDonald 2000; Stryker 2000). For example, McDonald (2000:6) found such congruence through interviews with vegans who had identified as “animal people,” meaning advocates for nonhuman animals, prior to becoming vegan. Because these people wanted to be authentic “animal people,” and because they recognized being vegan as congruent with being authentic “animal people,” they became vegan.
Congruence of identifications between prospective participants and movements can be hindered, however. As Stryker (2000:21, 31) acknowledges, “[People] have multiple commitments,” and “identities are potential competitors in producing behavioral choices.” The prospective vegans in the McDonald study acted not just as “animal people,” but through countless identifications. Stryker (1968:560) posits that such identifications “exist in a hierarchy of salience, such that other things equal one can expect behavioral products to the degree that a given identity ranks high in this hierarchy.” Applying this notion of identity salience to mobilization, McAdam and Paulsen (1993) argue that an individual’s participation in a movement is mediated not only by the individual acting through a congruent identification, but also by the salience of this congruent identification relative to the salience of the individual’s other identifications in encounters with the movement. According to this argument, the prospective vegans in the McDonald study became vegan because they were “animal people,” and because their identification as “animal people” was highly salient in their encounters with veganism, perhaps trumping less salient identifications that would have hindered their mobilization. Because their identification as “animal people” was highly salient in these encounters, and because they recognized their prospective veganism as congruent with this identification, vegan also became a highly salient identification.
I have employed Stryker’s notion of identity salience to analyze how people come to contemplate and embrace or reject veganism. This analysis is based on interviews with 33 people who interacted with at least one of two particular vegan advocacy networks in Greater Philadelphia. Of these 33 interview participants, all of whom contemplated the prospect of becoming vegan, 21 identified as vegan during their interview. These participants encountered a series of mechanisms that prompted them to consider vegan as an identification among other identifications, or veganism as a priority among other priorities. They assessed the salience of their prospective veganism relative to the salience of other priorities in particular encounters. Whether they went vegan––that is, whether they became vegan––was contingent on how their prospective veganism ranked as a priority among these other priorities.
I found that mechanisms such as social networks and ties vaulted the salience of veganism and activated participants’ contemplation by prompting them to recognize veganism as congruent with their other priorities, by activating feelings conducive to mobilization, and by enhancing their capacity to go vegan. Participants facilitated this rise in salience by asserting priorities that they came to recognize as congruent with veganism, and by assessing veganism as a prospective priority.
I found that the vegans were more likely than the non-vegans to prioritize altruism as they contemplated veganism, with nonhuman animals being primary beneficiaries of this altruism. The vegans were also more likely to seek information that motivated and empowered them to go vegan, and more likely to deploy strategies to attenuate priorities that contended with their veganism for salience. In contrast, the non-vegans expressed more passivity as they narrated their contemplation of veganism.
Previous Scholarship
Haenfler, Johnson, and Jones (2012:14) cite veganism as an example of a lifestyle movement, defined as a movement “in which participants advocate lifestyle change as a primary means to social change, politicizing daily life while pursuing morally coherent ‘authentic’ identities.” While subscribing to the claim that veganism is a lifestyle movement, as defined by Haenfler, Johnson, and Jones, I instead employ the term food movement to distinguish veganism as a movement in which food is a “politicizing” force through which participants construct “authentic” identities.
Previous scholarship has accounted for the influence of identity on behavior change and participation in food movements (Brouwer and Mosack 2015; Haverstock and Forgays 2012; McDonald 2000). In an experimental study on the food consumption behaviors of female college students, Brouwer and Mosack (2015:639, 641) found that participants who were prompted to create “special ‘doer’ phrases,” such as “fruit eater” and “healthy eater,” displayed more commitment to the behaviors that defined these identifications than did control participants who were not prompted to create such phrases. In a survey of current and former vegans and vegetarians, Haverstock and Forgays (2012:1033) found that the current vegans and vegetarians expressed more agreement than did the former cohort with the statement, “My eating pattern is a part of who I am/self identity.” Across these studies, the “fruit eaters,” the “healthy eaters,” and the current vegans and vegetarians elevated their commitment to their respective behaviors because they viewed these behaviors as part of who they were.
Of course, prospective participants of a movement negotiate multiple identifications and priorities, some of which can be antagonistic to participation. If, as Stryker (1968:560) claims, identifications are ranked “in a hierarchy of salience,” how does an identification such as vegan––and a priority such as veganism––become salient? What are the forces that prompt this emergence? How do people negotiate these forces and manage salience?
Prominent among the mechanisms that vault the salience of participation in a movement are social networks and ties (Cherry 2006; McAdam 1986; McAdam and Paulsen 1993; Risley 2012; Smilde 2005). Cherry (2006) accounted for the influence of networks on mobilization through interactions with vegan punks, who embraced the anti-establishment ethic that characterizes the punk subculture by refusing to consume animals. As many non-vegan punks became associated with these vegan punks, they went vegan. This network of vegan punks seems to have vaulted the salience of veganism, which became a priority for these new vegan punks. Prospective participants of movements have also been mobilized by the modeling of behaviors they seek to emulate (Smilde 2005); by learning information conducive to participation (Cherry 2015); by emotions such as “shock, grief, and anger” (Risley 2012:109); and by moralization, a process through which “activities that were previously morally neutral acquire a moral component” (Rozin, Markwith, and Stoess 1997:67).
In addition to encountering mechanisms that vault the salience of participation, prospective participants of a movement might also encounter forces that are antagonistic to participation. Just as networks and ties mobilize people to contemplate the prospect of going vegan or vegetarian, they also resist this prospect (Asher et al. 2014; Hirschler 2011; Jabs, Sobal, and Devine 2000; Merriman 2010; Twine 2014). Vegans and vegetarians, prospective and current, encounter antagonism to their veganism or vegetarianism from family members, partners, friends, and work colleagues, among others. Such antagonism emerges in the form of social exclusion, interrogation of vegan and vegetarian behaviors, and skepticism about the healthfulness of veganism and vegetarianism (Hirschler 2011; Jabs, Sobal, and Devine 2000; Merriman 2010; Twine 2014). It also emerges in the form of sexism, as associations of vegetarianism, eating disorders, and women foster the perception that vegetarian women, in contrast to vegetarian men, are incapable of “governing their bodies” (Merriman 2010:420); and as “[m]en who decide to eschew meat eating are deemed effeminate” (Adams [1990] 2010:57).
The capacity to go vegan or vegetarian can vary, with veganism and vegetarianism being difficult, or at least perceived as difficult, for particular people. However real or imagined, such difficulty can be a hindrance to mobilization. Among the hindrances cited by prospective vegans and vegetarians are lack of orientation to food preparation (Haverstock and Forgays 2012; Schosler, de Boer, and Boersema 2012), lack of access to a “grocery store with a health food section” (Asher et al. 2014:9), and the cost of a vegan or a vegetarian diet.
Prospective vegans must also confront carnism, defined by Joy (2010:30) as “the belief system that conditions us to eat certain animals.” According to Joy, consuming animals is so pervasive––a vast majority of the United States population consumes animals as food (Newport 2012; Reinhart 2018; Stahler 2012, 2019)––that it becomes an unquestioned behavior, one framed as “normal, natural, and necessary” (Joy 2010:96). To question and eschew such a behavior requires recognizing and deconstructing carnism and overcoming powerful socialization processes. As Joy (p. 106) acknowledges, “[p]ractically and socially,” consuming animals is “vastly easier” than not consuming animals.
Prospective participants of a movement exercise agency as they interact with forces that are conducive or antagonistic to participation, and as they construct who they are through these interactions. In a discussion on socialization, Perinbanayagam (2000) suggests that people engage in selectivity. The individual, subject though he or she may have been in […] socialization processes to […] discursive formations, nevertheless has enough independence from them to be able to view them critically and analytically, compare them with other discursive formations and select one over the other or select elements from each and form one’s own discursive formation and a discursive self with it. (P. 6)
Employing Stryker’s notion of identity salience, I have sought to account for how particular mechanisms vault the salience of veganism and activate contemplation among prospective participants; and to account for how these prospective participants manage the salience of veganism and prioritize it as they negotiate these mechanisms and other priorities. People assess salience and prioritize through narrative (Gubrium and Holstein 2003; Vila 2000). Thus, for this study, I fostered the construction of narratives through which interview participants engaged in the selectivity to which Perinbanayagam refers, choosing what to include in their narratives. This selectivity was not commanded by my imposition of topics. I did not prompt participants to identify as “animal people” or “fruit eaters.” Instead, in the context of their prospective veganism, I prompted participants to introduce their narrative plots among countless choices. In the process, participants identified priorities and assessed veganism as a prospective priority among other priorities.
Method
To account for how people come to contemplate and embrace or reject veganism, I conducted interviews with people who interacted with at least one of two particular vegan advocacy networks: vegan pledge campaigns conducted by Peace Advocacy Network (PAN), a social justice organization active in Philadelphia and its suburbs; and vegan potluck dinners conducted by the staff at The Rotunda, a community arts center in Philadelphia. This research endeavor was approved by Temple University’s Human Research Protection Program.
Networks
PAN conducts annual vegan pledge campaigns in several locations, including Philadelphia and Phoenixville, a suburb of Philadelphia. A pledge campaign involves recruiting non-vegan people to pledge to go vegan for 30 days. The goal is for the pledge participants to permanently practice veganism beyond the pledge campaign. PAN assigns vegan mentors to the participants and organizes gatherings at which the participants communicate their needs and concerns; interact with their mentors, other experienced vegans, and other participants; learn from experts on environmental, health, and animal rights issues; and socialize.
The vegan potluck dinners at The Rotunda involve a collection of vegans and non-vegans habitually sharing and eating vegan food and socializing. The staff at The Rotunda conducts two or three dinners per year. The goal of the dinners, as promoted on Facebook, is to “[connect] vegans to each other” and to “[provide non-vegans] with delicious food and easy recipes.”
Interviews
From 2011 to 2015, I conducted 33 one-on-one interviews: 23 with participants of the PAN vegan pledge campaigns, and 11 with participants of the vegan potluck dinners at The Rotunda. One interview participant interacted with both networks. I arranged these interviews through e-mail messages, Facebook private messages, and text messages. I interacted with participants on college campuses and in homes, work offices, libraries, coffeehouses, restaurants, food outlets, and parks. To account for whether the pledge participants had maintained their veganism following their pledge campaign, I interacted with them at least one month after their pledge campaign. The interviews ranged from one hour to three hours. All interviews were audio-recorded with the consent of participants and coded according to emerging themes.
Of the 33 participants, 24 identified as white or Caucasian, 6 as black or African American, 2 as Asian, and 1 as black and indigenous; 24 identified as women, 8 as men, and 1 as transmasculine; 15 were 18 to 34 years old, 10 were 35 to 54 years old, and 8 were 55 years old or older; and 14 had earned a graduate degree, another 11 had earned a four-year degree, and 8 had attended college without earning a four-year degree. Of these 8 participants, 6 were attending a four-year institution at the time of their interview.
Through the interviews, pledge participants and potluck participants narratively selected salient forces to which they were subjected, and narratively selected and managed salient priorities in their encounters with these forces. I, as the researcher, limited the extent to which I introduced topics to the conversations and instead prompted participants to do so. I activated narrative selectivity by opening each interview with a broad open-ended prompt. For the pledge participants, I said, “Tell me about your experiences with the pledge.” For the potluck participants, I said, “Tell me about your experiences at the potluck(s).” My ensuing prompts and questions were based only on topics already actively selected by participants. This narrative selectivity was productive in that as participants actively narrated their past, present, and future, they actively identified what was important to them. Such selectivity reveals “goals and intentions,” and guides future behaviors (Richardson 1990:117).
For example, Jasmine (black woman, 18–34, college student) prioritized family membership over veganism. She attempted to go vegan, but felt compelled to consume the non-vegan meals prepared by her mother for family holiday gatherings. “I have a big family,” she explained. “We don’t do a whole lot together. When we do, I don’t want to be the one who is a downer. It’s more important to be with my family than what I’m eating.” During our interview, I did not introduce family as a topic; rather, Jasmine narratively selected this topic as she explained her rejection of veganism. Her prioritization of family membership over veganism guided her future consumption of animals and her future interactions with family.
Defining Vegan
In its online promotion of the vegan potluck dinners, the staff at The Rotunda encourages patrons to “bring a small vegan (no animal ingredients of any kind) dish,” thereby defining vegan food as food devoid of animal products as well as animal flesh. This definition distinguishes vegan from vegetarian, which generally means devoid of animal flesh, but not animal products, such as dairy, eggs, and honey. Determining whether a dish is vegan is a less contested process than determining whether an individual is vegan. According to PAN, a vegan “actively avoids all animal use, not just in food (dairy, eggs, honey, meat, poultry, seafood, etc.)[,] but in clothing, entertainment, and experimentation, recognizing that the use of animals is unnecessary and immoral” (Peace Advocacy Network 2013). However, some participants who identified as vegan during their interview admitted that they actively and regularly use and consume animals. Raven (black woman, 18–34, college student), for example, identified as vegan, but practices veganism only in the context of food. She continues to wear animal-derived clothing and to style her hair with a relaxer that is tested on animals. Cheryl (white woman, 55+, graduate degree) labeled herself “99 percent vegan,” explaining that perhaps twice per year she consumes non-vegan desserts at parties.
The narratives of Raven, Cheryl, and others prompted me to consider selective vegan as a binary-breaking category that I could employ to analyze variation across my sample, but such a category would have been problematic. While most participants who identified as vegan do not wear wool or consume eggs, none of these participants framed their veganism as perfect, nor did any of these participants––or the PAN board members who articulated a definition of vegan––suggest that such perfection were possible. As Gruen and Jones (2016:169) observe, “Abstaining from the use of all animal products is virtually impossible for most consumers in industrialized societies.”
Such complexity prompted me to manage my sample of vegans and my sample of non-vegans according to how participants chose to identify. Thus, despite admittedly violating their veganism in different manners, Raven and Cheryl are in my sample of vegans because they identified as vegan during their respective interviews. While a vegan and non-vegan binary risks suppressing the complexities of participants’ narratives, I have identified correlating patterns between how participants chose to identify and how they prioritized veganism in various encounters.
Findings
Contemplation
Among the most prevalent mechanisms to vault the salience of veganism and activate contemplation among my interview participants were social networks and ties; documentaries and articles; ethics discourses; and food. Consistent with previous scholarship (McAdam and Paulsen 1993; McDonald 2000), I found that these mechanisms mobilized participants by prompting them to recognize veganism as congruent with their other priorities. Building on previous scholarship, I found that these mechanisms activated feelings conducive to mobilization and enhanced participants’ capacity to go vegan. I also found that participants facilitated the rising salience of veganism by asserting priorities that they came to recognize as congruent with veganism, and by assessing veganism as a prospective priority.
In some cases, mechanisms were deployed in a manner that intentionally framed veganism as congruent with participants’ priorities. Steve (white man, 55+, graduate degree) prioritized his concern for nonhuman animals through his work with Mercy for Animals (MFA) (2015), an organization “dedicated to preventing cruelty to farmed animals and promoting compassionate food choices and policies.” Already a vegetarian, Steve “made that additional connection” and contemplated veganism upon watching an MFA documentary that exposes “brutality against nonhuman animals” in the egg industry. Functioning as a mobilizing network, MFA and its documentary framed veganism in a manner that Steve perceived as more congruent with his concern for nonhuman animals, thereby vaulting the salience of veganism and activating his contemplation.
In other cases, mechanisms fostered congruence of priorities without addressing veganism, but still by invoking priorities that were recognized as congruent with veganism. Through her involvement in her local Ethical Humanism chapter, Aaliyah (black woman, 18–34, four-year degree) learned to value the worth of nonhuman as well as human animals. While Ethical Humanism does not advocate veganism, and while most of Aaliyah’s peers in her chapter are not vegan, she came to recognize veganism as congruent with the notion that “[her] life is not worth more than that of a chicken or that of a dog,” and this recognition activated her contemplation of veganism.
Some mechanisms mobilized participants by activating feelings conducive to mobilization. A common source of these feelings was the abuse and murder of nonhuman animals. Kim (white woman, 18–34, graduate degree) read an article about how milk is violently extracted from cows and how baby calves are taken from their mothers and killed. “It wasn’t like information I’d never heard before,” she recalled. “I just kind of read it this one time, and I literally feel like I had like a shift in my consciousness. I was just like, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’” Kim was already aware of these dairy industry practices. However, the content of this particular article was presented in a manner that provoked her emotionally. These industry practices bothered her with new intensity, activating a “shift in [her] consciousness,” and prompting her to contemplate veganism with her heart as well as her mind. “My heart was in it,” she explained. “I was thinking a different way.”
In other cases, the taste of vegan food activated the feeling of pleasure among participants. Dorothy (white woman, 55+, four-year degree) expected to leave a seminar on cat population control feeling hungry upon learning that the lunch served would be vegan, but she instead left feeling full after enjoying a “beautiful full-course lunch.” As we interviewed about 10 years after the event, she precisely recounted the meal: spicy vegan chili, crispy fried tofu, string beans almondine, salad, rolls with vegan butter, and chocolate chip pound cake. This memorable meal convinced Dorothy that she could feel pleasure through vegan food, thereby activating her contemplation of veganism.
In addition to influencing participants, mechanisms enhanced participants’ capacity to go vegan. Across many networks and ties, veganism was a familiar concept, and this familiarity fostered the transmission of information and advice that participants utilized as they contemplated veganism and attempted to go vegan. When Cheryl learned that Pam’s (white woman, 55+, graduate degree) cholesterol level was too high, she advised her to reject medication in favor of a vegan diet. “[Cheryl] walked me through, you know, sort of what contains cholesterol, what doesn’t, what a vegan diet would be like,” Pam recalled. “We spent a lot of time on the Web looking up medical sites and looking up blood cholesterol levels.” Cheryl empowered Pam by coaching her on how to go vegan. For Pam, veganism rose in salience as she became more informed and thus more capable of going vegan.
Food emerged as an empowering mechanism through its taste and abundance. The pleasure derived from tasting vegan food convinced participants like Dorothy that they were capable of enjoying and thus thriving on a vegan diet. Dorothy also felt capable of going vegan because of the abundance of vegan foods she encountered at the seminar. With access to this abundance, she felt full after the seminar, and feeling full made her feel more capable of going vegan. “I remember thinking I could do this,” she said. Pam patronized numerous vegan restaurants with Cheryl. As she recalled, “We went to this fabulous raw [food] restaurant out on Baltimore Avenue [in Philadelphia]. We went to all these places, and I started eating some really good vegan food. That was the beginning [of my veganism].” Pam felt more capable of going vegan through the pleasure derived from tasting this “good vegan food,” and through recognition of her access to an abundance of vegan dining options.
While participants contemplated veganism in response to mechanisms, they acted with agency in this process. They facilitated the rising salience of veganism by asserting priorities that they came to recognize as congruent with veganism, and by assessing veganism as a prospective priority. Steve asserted his concern for nonhuman animals in choosing to work with MFA. The organization and its documentary effectively activated his contemplation of veganism in part because he had already prioritized this concern, a priority that, through the organization and its documentary, he came to recognize as congruent with veganism. Steve assessed veganism as a prospective priority by assessing the information and arguments presented by MFA through its documentary. He assessed practices of the egg industry and concluded that these practices, and thus his vegetarianism, were antithetical to his concern for nonhuman animals. In the process, he concluded that veganism was congruent with this concern.
Divergence: Altruism
In some manners, the vegans and the non-vegans did not vary in how they exercised agency as they contemplated veganism. For example, both groups asserted priorities that they came to recognize as congruent with veganism. In other manners, however, the agency exercised by the two groups diverged. For example, the vegans were more likely than the non-vegans to prioritize altruism as they contemplated veganism, with nonhuman animals being primary beneficiaries of this altruism. While the vegans valorized how they personally benefited from their veganism, they prioritized how their veganism benefited others, specifically nonhuman others. In some cases, this priority coexisted with their other priorities and with equal force, but even in these cases, the altruistic incentive was not trumped by another priority.
Among participants who prioritized altruism, most went vegan. Participants commonly became allies of nonhuman animals through their observation or new awareness of the violence to which nonhuman animals are subjected as they are transformed into food; and through their recognition of the complexities of nonhuman animals.
Dan (white man, 55+, graduate degree) toured dairy farms and encountered baby calves “being torn away from their mothers.” These encounters activated Dan’s veganism, an altruistic form of veganism through which he prioritized his concern for nonhuman animals. “Forget about my health,” he said. “My health is secondary. Coexisting is much more important than me living a thousand years. I’d rather live 70 years and treat all living animals fairly than live to 100 eating steak every day.”
Through Facebook, Liz (white woman, 55+, four-year degree) encountered a series of articles reporting on the abuse and murder of nonhuman animals in the dairy and egg industries. She acted on this information with empathy. “When I read about things done to these animals, I imagine these things being done to me,” she said. “How would I feel? If it’s not right to do it to me, why is it right to do it to them?” Liz framed her empathy for nonhuman animals as a primary root of her veganism, thereby framing her veganism as altruistic.
Amber (white woman, 18–34, college student) came to recognize the complexities of nonhuman animals through childhood interactions with her non-vegan grandmother, who “had appreciation and respect” for these complexities. Amber learned to recognize the capacity of nonhuman animals to think and to feel. She also learned that human animals regularly dismiss such capacities. She posed a series of questions, such as “Why do we put animals in cages?” and “Why do we love dogs more than other animals?” Amber’s veganism is an altruistic act of resistance against the injustice implied in these questions, and an altruistic act that accounts for the complexities of nonhuman animals.
That participants went vegan for altruistic reasons did not mean that their veganism was an entirely unselfish act. Many of these participants cited the health benefits of veganism, but even their altruism was not entirely unselfish. As with Dan, Liz, and Amber, Amanda (white woman, 35–54, graduate degree) went vegan for and as an ally of nonhuman animals. However, by going vegan for nonhuman animals, she also went vegan for herself. She practiced altruistic veganism in part to view herself more favorably. Amanda prioritized consistency. Upon encountering a series of Facebook posts exposing the abuse and murder of nonhuman animals in the dairy and egg industries, she came to believe that her vegetarianism was inconsistent with her concern for nonhuman animals. It was also inconsistent with her professional identification as a university scholar and professor. “I have to start investigating things on my own,” she thought. “Why am I so active in investigating things in other parts of my life, but in my everyday life, and how I live, I’m just not investigating things in the same way?” Through altruistic veganism, Amanda constructed a more consistent self, and she felt better about herself in the process.
Alexis (black woman, 18–34, college student) and Sasha (white woman, 18–34, four-year degree) diverged from Dan, Liz, Amber, and Amanda on two accounts. They did not prioritize altruism, and they did not maintain their veganism. Among participants who did not prioritize altruism, most did not maintain their veganism or go vegan. These participants framed themselves as the primary beneficiaries of their prospective veganism. They commonly prioritized their health problems and their health consciousness. Some of these participants expressed concern for nonhuman animals, but this altruism was trumped by how their prospective veganism could benefit themselves.
Alexis contemplated veganism as a potential solution to her lack of energy and her excess weight. She prioritized these concerns and, in the process, framed herself as the primary beneficiary of her prospective veganism. Alexis became “more convinced” to attempt veganism upon watching Meet Your Meat, a short documentary that “exposes the truth behind humanity’s cruelest invention––the factory farm” (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals 2002). Thus, her contemplation was at least in part altruistic. However, she clarified her hierarchy of priorities, asserting that her health was her “main focus.” “That sounds really selfish,” she added. “I feel like I should be more worried [about nonhuman animals].”
An aspiring registered dietitian, Sasha was invested in learning the most healthful dietary practices. She “read a lot of books” that addressed the healthfulness of veganism, and she concluded that veganism can be healthful. She prioritized her health consciousness and, in the process, framed herself as the primary beneficiary of her prospective veganism. As with Alexis, Sasha was also mobilized in part by her concern for nonhuman animals. However, as with Alexis, she clarified her hierarchy of priorities, asserting that her “health has always kind of come first.”
Divergence: Mindset
The non-vegans also diverged from the vegans in that they expressed more passivity as they narrated their contemplation of veganism. Sasha’s passivity was evident in her distinction between body and mind. She framed her vegan pledge campaign as a “health experiment,” narrating her prospective veganism as contingent not on her mind making an active decision, but on how her body would feel. “I was seeing how my body would like [a vegan diet],” she explained. This approach precluded any potential persistence in maintaining her veganism. The moment her body reacted negatively to her vegan diet, Sasha predictably halted her veganism.
ML (white transmasculine, 18–34, graduate degree) compared his vegan pledge campaign to a “personal trainer.” “Having a personal trainer is good for me,” he explained. “I can’t lift weights without accountability. I’m not good at forcing myself.” Claiming that he needed such accountability through the pledge campaign, ML convinced himself that he was dependent on the pledge campaign and that he could not independently go vegan. This dependence precluded any potential persistence beyond the pledge campaign. When it ended, his interactions with his mentor became less frequent, he lost his “personal trainer,” and he ceased to maintain his veganism.
Jada (black woman, 18–34, four-year degree) and Janet (white woman, 55+, four-year degree) expressed passivity in describing themselves as “lazy.” “I have the means and tools to [go vegan],” Jada claimed. “If I gave myself the mindset to continue beyond the seven weeks [that I was vegan], if I saw [an animal-based meal] and said, ‘Don’t get that,’ instead of being lazy, I think I would’ve continued.” Janet agrees with the “principles” of veganism, but she explained, “I’m too lazy and too selfish and too gluttonous to practice them.”
Andrea (black/indigenous woman, 35–54, four-year degree) echoed Jada’s claim that going vegan is contingent on a particular “mindset,” one constituted by a willingness to confront cultural norms. “As a [participant in a vegan pledge campaign], you have to go in seeking, not necessarily waiting for people to give it to you,” she explained. “You have to come in with what you’re seeking and then get it by any means necessary.” In a society in which consuming animals is “vastly easier” than not consuming animals (Joy 2010:106), going vegan is not a passive endeavor, but rather one that requires initiative. The vegans displayed more initiative than the non-vegans did. They were more likely to seek information that motivated and empowered them to go vegan, and more likely to deploy strategies to attenuate priorities that contended with their veganism for salience.
Andrea “researched a lot,” amassing and learning from various sources that addressed the abuse and murder of nonhuman animals and the relationship between soul food and negative health outcomes among people of color in the United States. Instead of ignoring the series of Facebook articles reporting on the abuse and murder of nonhuman animals in the dairy and egg industries, Liz engaged them by reading, commenting, and seeking additional related articles. “I read one horrible thing after another,” she said. Instead of avoiding information that upset them, Andrea and Liz pursued and confronted this information because they were determined to know the consequences of their behaviors. In turn, this information motivated them to go vegan. Consistent with other mechanisms that mobilized other participants, this information mobilized Andrea and Liz by prompting them to recognize veganism as congruent with their other priorities. However, at least one of these congruent priorities was developed through their pursuit of this information. Andrea and Liz developed their concern for nonhuman animals through this pursuit, thereby facilitating the rising salience of their concern for nonhuman animals and setting the stage for their veganism. In these cases, congruence of priorities did not happen by chance; rather, such congruence was forged by actors managing the salience of particular priorities as they sought information. This pattern underscores the influence of agency on congruence of priorities, thereby building on previous scholarship (McAdam and Paulsen 1993; McDonald 2000). In similar fashion, the activation of feelings conducive to mobilization did not happen by chance in these cases; rather, such feelings were activated in part by actors seeking information laced with feeling.
When Pam went vegan, she struggled to prepare “good” vegan meals. A dining experience at Vedge, a renowned vegan restaurant in Philadelphia, “inspired [her] to take [her cooking] to another level.” Legally blind, Pam turned to the Internet and an iPhone app that identifies food to assemble new whole foods, new ingredients, and new recipes. She learned to “bolden up the flavor” of vegetables and to “fry the spices and let them burst out.” Pam emulated Andrea’s “by any means necessary” mindset. By educating herself through her struggle, she empowered her vegan self. “Now I feel like a lot of what I make is good,” she said.
Echoing Pam’s narrative, Julie (white woman, 35–54, graduate degree) struggled to prepare new and satisfying vegan meals during the early days and weeks of her vegan pledge campaign. However, in contrast to Pam, Julie did not seek information on how to prepare such meals. “I have zero interest,” she declared. “I hate cooking.” Learning to prepare or obtain new and satisfying vegan meals would have required initiative that Julie did not exercise. Her prospective veganism was trumped by the convenience of eating, among other “basic meals,” non-vegan pizza three nights per week. Assessing the capacity of Pam and the capacity of Julie to prepare new and satisfying vegan meals is difficult, but their contrasting narratives suggest that such capacities are not static predictors of going vegan. As with Julie, Pam struggled, but she enhanced her capacity to prepare “good” vegan meals and to practice veganism by exercising initiative amid the struggle. For Pam, veganism became more convenient because she made it more convenient.
While both the vegans and the non-vegans negotiated priorities that contended with their prospective veganism for salience, the vegans were more likely to deploy strategies to attenuate these competing priorities. The most cited competing priority was membership in networks across which veganism was not a norm and in some cases was resisted. The vegans commonly quelled contention with this particular competing priority by bringing vegan food to network gatherings, a strategy documented elsewhere (Twine 2014); and by minimizing attention on their veganism even as they asserted their veganism.
Andrea and her bishop husband dine out “a lot” with their church and their large family. During the early days of her veganism, Andrea “dreaded” these gatherings because they are rarely vegan-friendly. Now she brings vegan food to the gatherings, sometimes from home, and other times from restaurants. She always travels with vegan butter and homemade vegan dressing. Displaying her “by any means necessary” mindset for a church gathering in Connecticut, Andrea ventured out in a snowstorm to find an appetizing vegan alternative. “I didn’t care,” she said of the storm. Bringing food enables her to be vegan while preserving her church and family memberships.
Kiara’s (black woman, 18–34, graduate degree) veganism contends with her membership in a family that views her veganism as an “assault” on their Christianity. “If God gave us dominion over animals,” her family members ask, “why do you not see what he gave you as good?” Kiara preserves her veganism amid this resistance in part by bringing vegan food with her to family gatherings. She acts strategically not only in choosing to bring food, but also in the selection of the food she brings. As she explained, “I think of things that I can bring home with me to eat, that [are not] like the face of veganism. So I’m not going to bring tofu chicken salad with me. Or I don’t drink a ton of soy milk.” Kiara identified tofu and soy milk as stereotypical vegan products, meaning products that are strongly associated with veganism. By choosing to not bring these products, she minimizes attention on her veganism even as she asserts it. By deflecting her family’s attention away from her veganism, she quells her family’s resistance. In the process, as a priority, her family membership becomes less threatening to her veganism.
As with Kiara, Rahul (Asian man, 35–54, graduate degree) minimizes attention on his veganism even as he asserts it among family and work colleagues. When prompted to speak about his veganism, he responds in “Twitter format,” meaning in succinct fashion––“140 characters or less,” he explained. Rahul’s employment of “Twitter format” is an attempt to preclude contention that could ensue if he were to elaborate on his veganism. “I downplay [veganism] as opposed to up-play it because you don’t want to be the black sheep,” he said. For Rahul, downplaying veganism quells resistance. In the process, as a priority, his network memberships become less threatening to his veganism.
Just as Pam’s inexperience with preparing “good” vegan meals was not a static predictor of her capacity to go vegan, memberships in networks across which veganism was not a norm were not a static predictor of whether Andrea, Kiara, and Rahul practiced veganism through contentious encounters. By bringing food to network gatherings and/or minimizing attention on their veganism, these vegans strategically attenuated competing priorities, thereby preserving their vegan practice. These strategic acts simultaneously preserved their network memberships, memberships that they highly valued despite the antagonism. Rather than prioritize their veganism over their network memberships, the vegans across my sample commonly sought to harmonize these competing priorities, a pattern that complicates Stryker’s (1968:560) assertion that people rank identifications “in a hierarchy of salience.” While Jasmine, for example, prioritized in hierarchical fashion, prioritizing her family membership over her prospective veganism, Andrea, Kiara, and Rahul sought to prioritize their veganism and their network memberships in nonhierarchical fashion.
Discussion
My interview participants assessed the salience of vegan as an identification and veganism as a priority relative to other identifications and priorities. According to Stryker (2000:21), this assessment can involve competition, as “identities are potential competitors in producing behavioral choices.” Following Stryker, veganism must become salient among other priorities if an individual is to go vegan. In response to Stryker, I asked, How does an identification such as vegan––and a priority such as veganism––become salient? To answer this question, I prompted participants to engage in narrative selectivity, an exercise through which they explained the processes through which veganism emerged as a salient priority; and an exercise through which they ranked and prioritized what was important to them. Their narratives revealed how a series of mechanisms such as social networks and ties vaulted the salience of veganism and activated their contemplation by prompting them to recognize veganism as congruent with their other priorities, by activating feelings conducive to mobilization, and by enhancing their capacity to go vegan.
In response to Stryker, I also asked, How do people negotiate mobilizing forces and manage salience? While participants were prompted to recognize veganism as congruent with their other priorities, they asserted these other priorities, thereby setting the stage for congruence. They acted with particular incentives in this process. The vegans were more likely than the non-vegans to prioritize altruism as they contemplated veganism, with nonhuman animals being primary beneficiaries of this altruism. Participants also acted with a particular mindset. The vegans were more likely to seek information that motivated and empowered them to go vegan, and more likely to deploy strategies to attenuate priorities that contended with their veganism for salience. In contrast, the non-vegans expressed more passivity as they narrated their contemplation of veganism.
Mobilization is a capability as well as a choice. Participants’ capacity to go vegan, a capacity that is difficult to comparatively measure, likely varied. While this capacity was a predictor of whether they went vegan, their narratives suggest that it was not necessarily a static predictor. The extent to which these prospective vegans exercised agency, however limited, influenced their capacity to go vegan and whether they went vegan. Many of the vegans became more capable through acts of agency. For many participants, veganism rose in salience as mechanisms such as social ties and food empowered them, but the vegans were more likely to facilitate this rising salience, thereby empowering their vegan selves.
While prospective participants exercise agency, they do so only in relation to forces to which they are subjected. Most people who participate in food movements do not create these movements. Thus, in contemplating participation, they are subjected to the motives and frames of the movement they might join. Such motives and frames are a force with which a prospective participant’s priorities are assessed for congruence. This congruence does not automatically result in mobilization. Prospective vegans might identify as “animal people” (McDonald 2000:6). However, their mobilization becomes more likely when they are prompted by a mechanism, such as a network, to recognize congruence between identifying as “animal people” and identifying as vegan.
To maximize the potential of such congruence, vegan advocates could foster some form of narrative selectivity among recruitment targets. Advocates might not have the resources to conduct and analyze 33 one- to three-hour interviews. However, they can still foster narrative selectivity by creating a venue where targets can express and prioritize their concerns and needs in the context of their consumption behaviors and their prospective veganism. The identification of these narratively selected priorities could enhance the capacity of advocates to accommodate targets and to foster congruence between their prospective veganism and their other priorities.
While accounting for and accommodating the priorities of recruitment targets can be beneficial, my findings suggest that to maximize the potential of sustained mobilization, vegan advocates should prioritize without ever trumping altruistic frames for veganism. While my findings are not generalizable to all prospective vegans, my participants’ narratives illuminate a pattern in how prospective vegans might manage the salience of their priorities. Among participants who prioritized altruism, with nonhuman animals being primary beneficiaries of this altruism, most maintained their veganism; and among participants who did not prioritize altruism, or whose altruism was trumped by another priority, most were not vegan at the time of their interview. My findings do not suggest that advocates should restrict their advocacy to altruism. They could also, for example, frame veganism as healthful, a discourse that mobilized many participants. However, my findings suggest that a sustained vegan identification is less likely when altruism is trumped by a more salient priority.
My findings also suggest that vegan advocates should address the how as well as the why; that is, they should communicate how to go vegan and remain vegan along with their argument for why people should go vegan. For many participants, veganism rose in salience as they recognized their capacity to go vegan, a capacity they commonly recognized through relationships with vegans who oriented and supported them with food and advice. Some did not go vegan not because they dismissed arguments for veganism, but because they doubted their capacity to do so. Thus, empowering recruitment targets to go vegan is as crucial as convincing them of the merits of veganism.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.