Can I Continue Eating Meat?
In early 2017 I published a post asking, “Should I eat meat?” The question arose from a need to align my actions with my sense of morality. It felt wrong to inflict pain on a living creature — I would never want my dog to suffer — yet I had long accepted killing animals for food without much thought. That contradiction prompted me to examine why I ate meat and what ethical position I could honestly hold.
More recently I encountered the idea of cognitive dissonance: holding conflicting beliefs at once. I believe causing suffering is wrong, and at the same time I accepted killing animals for food as normal. People naturally try to reduce that dissonance, reconciling beliefs so they feel consistent, and that process shaped my exploration of diet and ethics.
Those reflections grew out of a trip to India at Christmas, where I spent a morning fishing with a local. Catching, killing and cooking fish first-hand forced me to confront the realities of where food comes from. I wrote about that experience in a travelogue that examines how direct involvement changes the way you think about meat.
Fifty Shades of Grey
I came to realise the original question was flawed. The word “should” implies duty and absolutes, which didn’t fit my aim: I wanted to explore my feelings and reach a personal decision, not follow an imposed obligation. A yes-or-no question ignores the many nuances between black-and-white answers. Life and ethics are largely grey, and accepting those shades of nuance is more realistic and often more satisfying than demanding absolute clarity.
Dr. Harley Pope highlights the difference between absolutes and relatives, a useful lens on veganism. Taking an absolute stance of causing zero harm is extremely difficult in practice. Commercial agriculture, even for fruit and vegetables, kills small animals when fields are ploughed. Most vegans cannot guarantee that none of their food has contributed to animal deaths. Truly ensuring zero harm would require growing your own food or sourcing zero-tillage produce, which drastically limits choices.
So dietary choices are better seen as relative values. On one end is a vegan approach aiming to minimise harm as much as possible; on the other is a heavily carnivorous diet. Between them sit vegetarianism, pescatarianism, flexitarianism and climatarian approaches. Each sits on a spectrum of priorities and compromises.
With Intent?
The distinction between accidental and intentional harm matters. A carrot may indirectly contribute to animal deaths during production, while eating a chicken directly requires an animal to be raised and slaughtered. That difference introduces intention: buying carrots usually involves no intent to harm, whereas choosing meat often does involve a decision that an animal’s life will end to satisfy hunger.
Philosophically, the consistent moral position might be to stop eating meat. Practically and emotionally, I found resistance to that conclusion. Part of me wanted to retain the option of eating meat occasionally. That tension returns to cognitive dissonance, or perhaps to a reluctance to change a lifelong habit. But decisions don’t have to be permanent. Trying different dietary approaches and living with their consequences is how we learn what fits our values and lifestyle.
Field to Fork
Not long after forming these questions I arranged to visit a farm in Kent to be involved in slaughtering and preparing chickens, rabbits and ducks. It was a daunting prospect — getting hands-on with the processes I’ve long outsourced felt intimidating — yet staying removed felt hypocritical after years of consuming meat without confronting its origins. Having played an indirect role in the slaughter of many animals, I wanted to experience that part of the food chain directly before making further decisions about my diet.
I documented that day under the title “Field to Fork.” I organised the experience not as a business venture but as a personal inquiry I thought others might find valuable. Direct involvement changes how choices feel and can clarify what you are willing to accept or change about your eating habits.