Diligent readers of the Grumpy Vegan know I’ve been in the UK for nearly two years having lived in the US for the previous 20. I haven’t been to something like this in a long time. In fact, I recall my first opportunity to meet animal advocates from such groups as Animal Activists (the forerunner of many of today’s groups), Hunt Saboteurs Associations, the Vegan Society and Compassion In World Farming (CIWF) was in 1976 when there was an animal welfare exhibition in my home town of Camberley, Surrey. Looking back on my day at the Brighton Vegan Fayre I was reminded many times of this event of more than 30 years ago. This was not a good sign.
My feeling about veganism is that I consider it to be a normal way to live and, if anything, quite boring. It’s what everyone else does that I find abnormal and outrageous: eating the charred corpses of dead animals and so on. I’ve never really connected with other vegans and embraced a vegan culture because they always seemed to me to be so, well, vegan. Don’t get me wrong. I am vegan. I live vegan. My home is vegan. I advocate veganism. I’ve been grumpy since birth but vegan since 1976 for chrisssakes.
Notwithstanding a time when I was chair of the Vegan Society Council and tried to bring it kicking and screaming into the twentieth century, I never wanted to get involved with the vegan community. Being vegan isn’t important to me in the way that I think, for example, Christians find it important to be Christians and football fans want to be, er, football fans. At the risk of appearing a contradiction as the Grumpy Vegan, I don’t identify myself primarily as a vegan. Being vegan is what you happen to be called when you boycott animal products and live a compassionate animal-friendly lifestyle. What’s more, I never really thought of veganism as an end point. I don’t agonize over being the perfect vegan. If I was the Vegan Police, well, I’d be the bent copper. It reminds me of what Groucho Marx said. He never wanted to belong to a club that would have him as a member. The same is true of the gay and lesbian movement. I never really connected with it either. I suppose I’m just not a joiner or I only enrol reluctantly. I did, however, on my return to the UK, rejoin the Vegan Society. It’s from the perspective of the informed outsider that I look at the vegan community and put myself in the position of those who are thinking about becoming vegan or embracing animal rights and worry whether we repel more people than we attract.
So, with all this in mind (as clear as mud as this may be for some), it was with some anxiety that I went to the Brighton Vegan Fayre to see what the latest models were in the British vegan community and the animal welfare movement.
Big mistake number one was the Brighton Centre. Now, I know from all my years of organizing there’s nothing more annoying that someone coming along saying that you’ve got it all wrong. Everything takes a lot of hard work. Often you end up dealing with things, making decisions and accepting compromises about issues beyond your control. I’m very sympathetic with the organizers because it was an achievement to organize this event. But they got it wrong with the venue. Brighton and Hove City Council, which built and operate the Centre, made big mistakes over the years in approving the construction of some ugly buildings that destroyed the town’s historic grandeur. (I lived in Brighton briefly in the late 70s/early 80s.) The Centre is a concrete bunker. It just didn’t lend itself to an event that promotes compassionate living. Concrete walls, garish lighting, harsh acoustics, etc., represented the very opposite of how we could and should live peacefully with each other. What’s more, the event was spread throughout the building. There were different rooms for exhibitors, speakers, cooking demonstrations, meeting space, etc., which were all on different floors hiding in what seemed like every far-flung corner. This meant that attendees walked from one end to the other searching for where they wanted to go, which makes for an interesting metaphor about how we live our lives but that’s not the point.
The Grumpy Vegan lives by the rule that anything well fed is happy. Sadly, this was not to be the case with the Brighton Vegan Fayre. This is big mistake number two. I expected to see centre stage a place where I could buy terrific vegan food. Yes, I could have picked away at free samples, including flapjacks, soya milk, ground seeds. Yes, I could have bought vegan cup cakes from exhibitors. But what I looked for was somewhere pleasant where I could choose anything off the menu and know it was safe to do so. Sadly, there was no such thing. I thought about attendees who were new to veganism, or who were thinking about going vegan, or who brought along doubting meat-eaters family and friends, well, they would not have been impressed with the food that was available. All their prejudices about being vegan would have been reaffirmed. By the way, the biggest queue I saw was the line to buy vegan ice cream.
The third big mistake was that you had to pay an admission fee of £8. A high price to pay for the privilege of discovering that you should’ve eaten before you left home for the day, brought a packed lunch or ate on the way. Why wasn’t the economy of the event structured so that admission was free? Surely, the objective is to get the maximum number of people through the door (the technical term is “bums on seats”) and load them up with great food and everything else vegan imaginable for free so that the neophytes go home converts, the converted complacent and the questioning meat-eaters going vegan.
Other than satisfying my continuous search for good vegan food, the only other important reason why I went was because this was an opportunity to further reacquaint myself with British animal welfare groups. For starters, it was interesting to note who was there and who wasn’t. British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection, International Fund for Animal Welfare and CIWF, among others, were conspicuous with their absence. My initial reaction to walking around and taking a look at the some two dozen animal welfare groups and their stalls was that it was like taking a step back in time to the animal welfare exhibition in Camberley in 1976.
I’ve done my fair share of tabling for such groups as CIWF, BUAV and People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, including events we organized that provided exhibit space for other groups. I know what this is all about. It’s a necessary activity as part of general outreach efforts to educate the public. It was not surprising to see tables groaning with stuff but what was surprising was how little had changed. One group even continues to sell T-shirts and mugs with a slogan that was being used more than 30 years ago! (OK. It was admitted it was reprised for their anniversary.) Even some of the people hadn’t changed. They were just involved with different organizations. In fact, one of the most pleasurable aspects of the event was seeing old friends and colleagues such as Mike Nunn, a long-standing activist (“I’m 80 this year, Kim!”), who sells books on-line to help animals in Egypt; ALF co-founder Ronnie Lee, who rescues greyhounds; long-standing activist, Alan Knight, who leads International Animal Rescue; and Mark Gold, my successor at CIWF and Animal Aid stalwart, who just wrote a novel about activism. They’re still at it as are many others, which is encouraging to see. I estimate that between Mike, Ronnie, Alan, Mark and me we must have put in more than 150 years of activism. Clearly, the fayre attracted veterans and newcomers, which was good and important.
But the question I wanted to answer was: How has the British animal welfare movement changed over the last 20 plus years? And the answer is I came away with is: Not much.
It might appear disingenuous to describe the animal welfare movement as an industry with products to buy and services to offer – much like the motor car industry – but that is exactly what it’s all about. In our case, the service we offer is the truth about animal exploitation (“the problem”) and the “solution” of activism and cruelty-free living. Yes, the exhibitors addressed this but I was looking for more.
For starters, I couldn’t find anything about the forthcoming local election and the general election that must be held in about a year’s time. (Yes, Animals Count was there but I have reservations with their approach.) What’s more, one speaker representing a national group derided all MPs and all political parties as a waste of time. The power is with the people, they said. And, yes, you’ve guessed it! The answer to all our problems is to “Go Vegan!” The same speaker then went onto to complain about the government’s voluntary code of practice for a particular area of animal use. Well, you can’t have it both ways. It’s just not credible to dismiss the democratic process and simultaneously complain about what the government does.
So, this year’s, model was the latest campaign, the latest leaflet, the latest T-shirt, the latest publicity stunt, the latest funny costume to wear (or not wear at all as the case may be), the latest celebrity, the latest expose, the latest rescued animal, the latest DVD, etc. Except that the latest was what it was many years ago only different and not so different in some cases. Yes, these things are essential, obligatory, even, for a social movement campaigning for animals. Yes, animal exploitation continues and must be challenged at every opportunity. But, is that all there is? The latest outrage? The latest rush of self-righteous indignation? The latest grasp for vegan purity? The latest celebrity speaking out?
Instead, where were the initiatives to take veganism to the mainstream? Where were the efforts to position veganism with ordinary folk and their food choices? Where were the campaigns to position veganism so that it’s recognized by non-governmental organizations and government agencies alike as a legitimate diet? Where were the discussions with mainstream food manufacturers and food service providers about more vegan options? In short, what’s our strategy to make veganism normal and boring and not abnormal and outrageous?
Where was the training in activism? Where were the workshops on how democracy functions? Where was the discussion on tactics and strategies? Where was the networking? Where were the representatives from political parties? Where was the session on the history of veganism? Where were the speakers from other social movements? Where was the discussion about animal ethics? Where were the panels of experienced vegans answering questions from those eager to learn more?
Going to the Brighton Vegan Fayre was, for this vegan, like being stuck in a vegan ghetto with, for example, the vegan body builder, the vegan reggae superstar and the vegan escapologist. What’s more, this year’s model of the animal welfare movement turned out to be like last year’s and the year before that. How can you not have an event to celebrate veganism without offering delicious food and free to attend in an inspiring location?
All I saw of the future of the vegan community and the animal welfare movement in Britain at the Brighton Vegan Fayre was more of the same. Was there something else new and different that I missed?
Tell me now I’m wrong and why. And look for me at the Incredible Veggie Show in London on Saturday, April 18.
