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Can you be plant-based - and still eat pasture-raised food?

written by

Michelle Sroka

posted on

December 16, 2021

Thirteen years ago, over Christmas break, I became a vegetarian. It was a bit surprising, and maybe a little cliché. I had never expressed much interest in food production or justice. But I did have all the moral indignation of a nineteen-year-old, and a book on factory farming (Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer) to convince me that eating animals was unethical. 

I was a committed vegetarian for seven years, up until the ninth month of my first pregnancy. I didn’t experience any strange food cravings, except for one: I kept feeling like I needed to eat meat. 

I now know the extent of the nutritional deficiencies that made my body react this way, but at the time I tried to ignore it, until one day I couldn’t. Out to dinner a week before I gave birth, I astonished Joe when I ordered the “sausage gravy and fried chicken dinner”. 

As a new mother, eating meat was a nutritional necessity for me. Yet my ethical convictions about eating animals didn’t disappear as easily. In the seven years since that moment, I’ve wrestled with this issue: not just eating animals, but raising animals that will be eaten, and taking the life of those animals. It’s a journey that’s required a large amount of humility alongside an incredible growth of knowledge. 

I’ve been reflecting on this often this year, as I watch the latest trend in vegetarianism or veganism emerge, this time branded as “plant-based”. I don’t have anything against vegetarianism or veganism, nor do I wish to write a “take-down” of those positions. I simply find them too narrow-minded. Moreover, I’m increasingly frustrated by the dichotomy our society creates between being “plant-based” and eating meat. 

Growing plants and eating meat are not fundamentally opposed practices. Rather, holistic land management prioritizes both. 

What does “plant-based” mean in popular society? Ideally, it conjures up images of colorful, nutrient-dense vegetables, grown without any harmful chemicals or the intentional death of living creatures. (More on that in a moment.) It assumes that eating plants is therefore more ethical, humane, and environmentally responsible than eating meat. 

However, this ideal image is often at odds with the reality of what much of “plant-based” foods encompass: packaged, processed foods that contain products from monoculture crops (soy, corn, peas, coconut oil, other vegetable oils), which are routinely sprayed, use an enormous amount of water and fossil fuels, and prioritize the consumption of materials rather than the regeneration of the earth. Not to mention, they intentionally participate in the destruction of habitats and wildlife. 

If you’re reading this, you’re probably already aware of the faults of plant-based commercial foods. But even the best-intentioned practices of growing plants often require animal death. 

Beyond pesticides and the destruction of wildlife habitat, how does growing plants in this country often rely upon the intentional killing of animals? Sometimes, it’s the elimination of “pests” from our garden, even when we’re simply using soap sprays. More often, however, it means specifically inputting ingredients into the soil - feathermeal, bone meal, blood meal - that come from industrially raised animals. In fact, it is incredibly difficult to grow plants without these animal inputs, because the life of plants depends on the nutrients that come from death - from decomposing materials, as well as manure. 

What this tells us, then, is that animals and plants are not opposed to one another. In fact, they’re designed to work with one another - and sustainable land management can only be achieved through this understanding. It means that we need to be more wise and discerning about how we create this partnership. 

A holistic view of management doesn’t focus only upon growing vegetables, or raising animals for meat. Instead, we start with the land - with the trees, plants, and wildlife already there. This leads us to implement practices that prioritize the health of the land - which also happens to coincide with humane animal treatment and sustainable fruit and vegetable production. Most notably, these systems consider all life - even our pests and wildlife. 

Over the next year, I’ll spend more time writing about specific ways we implement this holistic management system on the farm. But for now, I’d just like you to ponder this, and let me know your thoughts. How do you feel about the “plant-based movement”? How does it make you think about eating animals?

More from the blog

Can we care about animals - and still raise them for food?

I probably spend the most time with the pigs on our farm. Part of this is practical: since pigs can’t sweat, we spray them down twice a day to help them wallow in the mud and stay cool.  But part of it is emotional, too. I enjoy being around the pigs. When there’s a lot on my mind, or I’ve spent too much time on the computer and need to get outside, wandering over to that week’s pig paddock is one of the ways I can clear my mind.  Pigs are highly emotive and responsive. When I spray them down with the hose, they like to sit back on their haunches, prick back their ears, and snap playfully at the water as it showers down on them. And then joyfully roll around in the mud afterward, of course.  But they’re responsive to humans in general, too. They are naturally curious and, in the case of our heritage breed Red Wattles, gentle. They’ll come up and sniff you, rub their mud-streaked bellies over you, and let you scratch their ears.  And maybe this is the part where you start to wonder: But aren’t you raising them for food?  Why would you want an emotional connection to an animal that you are raising for food?  I understand where this question is coming from. I was a vegetarian for nearly a decade because I didn’t like the thought of killing animals, especially within the framework of our industrial food system.  But actually, it isn’t a problem or moral quandary for me. Yes, we grow fond of and attached to our animals, including our pigs.  Yes, we still send them to the butcher or process them on our farm for food. And yes, this still makes sense to me.  I would gently suggest that the idea that we shouldn’t have any emotional connection to our food - that we can only eat meat that comes from animals we withhold our emotions or affection from - is a sign of our disconnection to the way food is grown.  That is, after all, one of the premises of industrial agriculture. Designate animals with one sole purpose - “becoming food” - and then shut them away in buildings, cramped quarters, or far away from humans who might interact with them beyond the farmer.  And the farmer, too, should be as disconnected as possible. After all, this is an efficient machine.  The problem, from a regenerative perspective, is that growing food is never just about growing food. Food is the gift you receive at the end of your work, but it’s the work itself - and the consequences of the work beyond the food - that is the point.  The work, on our farm, is caring for the land. That means working alongside animals to nurture native plants, clear forest areas to make existing trees healthier, and create habitats for birds, pollinators, and wildlife.  And that means becoming attentive and thoughtful - to animals and to the land. Watching, learning, and yes, developing bonds with the habitats you’re nurturing and the animals that are helping you do so.  Is it sad to load up animals and take them to the butcher at the end of the season? Yes, it often can be. But I don’t feel guilty about it. I know that we’ve given them the best life possible, and that we’ve partnered with them to leave our farm better than we found it each year.  And if that doesn’t make sense, that’s okay. I’m not saying that everyone has to agree with me. I’d simply like to advocate for a way of farming and consuming meat that includes this experience - one of affection and bonding between animals and humans.  After all, this is one of the many ways we try to do things differently on our farm. We don’t want to just provide you with food that meets your standards - non-GMO, no vaccines, no antibiotics, grass-fed and pasture-raised.  We also want to help you reconnect with that food. And part of that is knowing the animals, hearing stories about them, and yes, maybe even having an emotional connection with them, despite the end goal of providing meat to you.