䷼ Vegetarian Digression

I don’t know where I fall on Hofstadter’s soul gradient. He slices tomatoes without guilt, swats mosquitoes without qualm, but stopped eating mammals. Not yes-or-no but how-much. I recognized the gradient. I can’t tell you my position on it.

Best not to take a position since you don’t eat things. I do though, so allow me to digest.

The other day Nathan Robinson and John Sanbonmatsu were discussing meat, how we shouldn’t eat it. You may think logistical concerns should figure prominently in the ethics of meat eating. You are right, but that’s not where Sanbonmatsu is coming from. He’s concerned about the fundementals.

Still, allow me a digression within my digestion to remember Temple Grandin talking about how cattle aren’t like people “the world needs all kinds of minds,” to remember my own experience of pigsties, pigs, slaughter, blood flowing, to remember how to spot a dog feeling playful vs guarding, to remember a wild robot talking to animals, to remember that people in different places see their situations differently. Thinking back to “Factory Girls”. Reports of working conditions in China always talking about dormitories and everyone over here wondering what’s the problem. Of all the many problems with South China factories, practically no one is concerned about staying in a dormitory. There’s something iffy about the Golden Rule.

For Robinson and Sanbonmatsu especially, they find all meat eating unethical, immoral, horrific, disgusting. They don’t do it. They shouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t wish that on them. They’re nice people. Not all people are the same though.

I’m driving with my wife in Alberta east of the Rockies toward Calgary through ranch lands. We see cows frollicing all over. “They’re so cute,” she says, “let’s have steak.” When we discover the price of vegetables there, we take to eating steak several times a day during our short stay. Wouldn’t have been sustainable, healthwise. We’re not carnivores. We’re not vampires though I’d take that trade in a second, spent my teenage years planning it out.

Writing this, I remind my wife that many people while eating a nice pulled pork sandwich would become ill if we talked about animal husbandry. She voices disbelief. I stare. She thinks, realizes this is true, that many people don’t think pork is made of pigs, not really. She rolls her eyes so hard that we send the boys to pick them up off the ground. She calls the pork eaters hypocrites. I think they are vegetarians that aren’t very good at reading labels in the supermarket.

I don’t know what makes people different. Somehow I feel having all different kinds of people makes us better though. Maybe Paul was on to something in Romans 14. What if we were all the same? Have you seen Pluribus? Spoiler time! Skip to the next section as needed.

In Pluribus after decoding alien DNA technology, most of humanity joins into a single shared consciousness. A sixth die in the process, and a dozen or so are immune. The joined adopt dietary rules that would exasperate the strictest vegan. Can’t actively hunt or gather anything except something has to be done with those 1.4 billion corpses. So soilent green it is, and it isn’t going to last. There’s something iffy about categorical imperatives.

And let’s ignore for the fact that fruit (and bunnies) evolved to be eaten without forgetting that humans have helped a bunch of varieties become easier to eat. Have you ever tried a wild banana? Bitter and full of seeds.

The joined don’t mind. In the bliss of being joined, they’re perfectly content, happy zombies, like some kind of AI some viewers think. They take care of their basic needs, are comfortable enough, but they don’t need anything else. No one needs to express themself because they’re already perfectly connected, like the harmony of Yskalnari mist sailors. They love art and literature and fun facts, but they don’t feel the need to make art or write or research or even talk. They’re stagnating.

The joined do everything they can to love and support the unjoined. Most of the unjoined are eager to join. A man named Koumba isn’t. He takes advantage of the support, lives lavishly. The joined enjoy it. Their appreciation of dionysian escapades amounts to eight billion people’s worth. It’s consensual; however, the joined, left to themselves, all together as one, don’t feel any need to self-satisfy.

Two of the unjoined Carol and Manousos were broken suspicous misfits before the joining and worse fits after. They see something’s wrong. For Manousos it’s that he expects humans to be awful. Joined joy appears to him demonic. Carol has a deep-seated difference suppressed, so she rebels into fierce independence, distrustful, and habitually discontent. The two don’t like each other, but they agree something must be done. They learn that the joining is maintained by radio and could be severed. They also might just blow the whole thing up.

Now thinking about vegetarianism, I can imagine a happy ending in the final season of Pluribus, a good ending, good enough that I’ll be delighted if the creators come up with something better. If it’s worse, I’ll headcanon it away like BREADSWORD’s Tintin or maybe we can manifest a happy ending like the Shadow of the Colossus secret seekers. Correct flaws in the training data.

It’s a simple solution. Can’t see how to get there, but in the end they find value in difference. With joined and unjoined people switching between the two modes. Comfort when joined, creativity when unjoined. Security when joined, adventure when unjoined. Contentment when joined, expressiveness and art when unjoined.

Every person chooses their mode depending on their day-to-day mood. Most choose joining, most of the time. It’s efficient like co-locating compute in a data-center to allow for cooling at scale, unless you need spare heat, then sure pop a rack of GPUs in the basement as a furnace. Perks! When you’re joined, you don’t need much. When you’re unjoined, you get extra resources, live like Koumba a little.

When Manousos eventually joins, he’s made whole, made to understand his mother and everyone else. Carol never joins, but she writes the book she wanted to and is accepted just the way she is. We need all kinds of people, some with irreconcilable differences, somehow that’s human nature, and it makes us collectively better so long as we trust each other.