There I was again, suggesting an intervention to reduce meat consumption in a social media post.
And there it was again, from an unknown critic, the argument that a tiny minority of vegans should stop pushing their views onto millions of people who are not interested. Sound familiar?
Tyranny of the minority?
It’s easy to understand the frustration, of course. If you like something the way it is, and if you believe many others share your view, it feels especially intolerable when a small group of people insists on changing the status quo. People see this:
But if we want our viewpoints to be mature and rational, we must assess an idea based on its merit, not on the fact that that it was pushed on us by whomever. History is full of examples where moral progress began with small groups of dissidents - people who stood up and said that a practice is wrong and must change. The abolition of human slavery is but one obvious example.
Moreover, when minorities advocate change, they typically do so through democratic means. Animal rights activists, for instance, use social media campaigns, lobbying, protests, nudging techniques, or direct action to create change for animals. If change happens, it’s not forced. It’s persuaded, debated and implemented through systems we already consider fair.
It’s also not the case that the vegan/animal rights movement has some kind of outsize influence. Lewis Bollard from the Open Philantropy Project recently pointed out that the entire yearly international budget for farmed animal advocacy is smaller than what Harvard University spent renovating one of its residential buildings, this year.
Sure, sometimes vegans might influence smaller, immediate decisions - like where a group eats, what goes on a menu, or the internal policies of a company. And yes, that can frustrate some people.
But here is the key point: when vegans push for change, they aren’t just speaking for themselves. What critics are missing is that they represent an enormous number of beings who otherwise have no voice, no representation, and no meaningful way to express their disagreement.
So actually, it’s more something like this:
Representing animals
In their influential book Zoopolis: A Political Theory of Animal Rights (2011), Sue Donaldson and Will Kymlicka propose a groundbreaking framework for granting animals political representation. They move beyond traditional animal rights arguments, which often focus solely on negative rights (like freedom from harm), by proposing a political model where animals are considered active participants in society with distinct political statuses: domestic animals would receive citizenship, wild animals are sovereign, and so-called liminal animals (semi-wild animals like pigeons, squirrels or rats living in or near human spaces) are denizens.
In a (future) society that takes animals seriously, the interests of these three groups of animals would be represented through systems like animal welfare boards, advocates in courtrooms or animal ombudspersons. Humans, in other words, would act as proxies or trustees to ensure these animals’ interest are defended wherever decisions affecting them are made (and that’s about… everywhere).
Donaldson and Kymlicka’s vision may seem idealistic, and its realization will likely take decades - even as several organizations across the world are already working on it (e.g. Animal Society or the Dutch Party for the Animals). In the meantime “animal people” (vegans in the first place) should see themselves as representatives of animals, their own voice backed by a silent majority of billions.
Indeed, if these billions of cows, pigs and chickens were able to, they might ask why a relatively small population of humans feels entitled to enforce its will over the rest of the animal kingdom.
Your voice
Next time you get distracted by a critical comment on something you said or wrote in favor of animals, consider the billions of imaginary likes you’re getting from those who don’t know you’re speaking up for them.
Next time someone tells you to stop pushing your pesky pro-animal ideas because they’re just a minority opinion, remind them that you’re not just speaking for yourself, but that you represent the literally countless beings our society refuses to listen to.
In this light, our voice isn’t small at all. It’s deafening.
Keep speaking up.
There's also the billions of humans who, just like vegans, see needless sentient animal exploitation, harming and killing as morally wrong. Yet they remain trapped by social norm indoctrination and sometimes systemic practicalities. In a weird way, we're speaking for them too - even speaking for parts of the minds of the people who attack us.
Thanks for sharing these resources and your perspective—I couldn’t agree more that we need to stand up for animals’ rights. Honestly, being vegan often feels like a lonely fight, but we should draw strength from knowing how valid our points are. The majority of people just don’t want to face the reality of slaughterhouses or the sheer scale of lives taken and wasted every year. We interrupt their comfort, their indulgence, and that’s unsettling for them. But that discomfort means we’re doing something right.
We have to keep pushing, keep speaking up, and build political momentum around these issues. It’s frustrating how slow the Democratic Party has been to embrace this cause, especially since they’re unlikely to lose much support from farmers who already vote Republican. I remember cringing when Kamala Harris made that forced comment about cooking bacon after Biden chose her to run. It felt fake, disconnected.
But we’re not alone. We’re a minority voice, yes, but we speak for billions of animals who have no voice. That’s powerful. Let’s not stop now.