The vegan author Jordi Casamitjana discusses what it means to be kind and how veganism is the philosophy of kindness
It felt very good.
About seven weeks ago, I was walking from my home in London to my local park, as I try to walk there as often as I can, not only because it relaxes me and allows me to reconnect with the fauna and flora sharing my city, but also because it inspires me and helps me in my current profession as a writer on veganism issues.
On my way to the park, I often eat a piece of organic fruit (normally an apple, but often a banana or a peach), as I try to only buy organic produce, as fewer deaths of sentient beings would have been involved in growing it because of the reduced use of pesticides (I grow some vegs in my yard in the veganic way — so, zero deaths in this case — but I don’t have the space to grow big fruits).
As I was saying, about seven weeks ago I was about halfway to the park when I had to cross a zebra crossing. Honouring my mother’s instructions still fresh in my mind for over five decades, I looked both ways for incoming vehicles. I noticed a bicycle coming at a considerable speed, and although it was my right to cross and the bike had to stop (that’s one of the traffic laws in the UK that is very much respected by everyone, to my delight when I emigrated here from Catalonia over 30 years ago), I thought it would be quite an abrupt stop. Therefore, I gestured to the rider with my hand that I waved my right to cross, and I was happy for him to carry on.
Then, a very British thing happened. The rider slowed down and gestured for me to cross, I gestured back to him that he should cross instead, and after realising that he was almost stationary after several back-and-forth of this stereotypical polite dance, I decided to cross, saying “Thank you” loud and clear. The young man, then, said in an enthusiastic but warm voice, “That’s sweet, man!”
That felt very good. It made my day, actually, and while I was meandering through the park with a smile on my face, I sent myself the following email: “Write about the significance of kindness in veganism”. So, that’s what I am going to do here.
What Does It Mean to Be Kind?
Before talking about kindness in relation to veganism, I need to figure out what it means to be kind. Broadly speaking, kindness is the quality of being kind, which basically means treating others well, being helpful, caring, generous or considerate. However, I am hardly ever satisfied with “broadly speaking” definitions, so I want to look closer at this concept and distil its essence. What, exactly, makes an action kind rather than merely helpful? What separates kindness from goodness, compassion, empathy, generosity or simple politeness?
One of the most important features of kindness is that it is relational. You cannot really perform an act of kindness in isolation. An act of kindness is directed towards someone, and therefore kindness cannot be understood merely as a personality trait that exists inside a person, waiting to be discovered. We may describe someone as having a kind disposition, but ultimately, we recognise a person as kind because of what that person says and does towards others.
If someone repeatedly treats others with kindness, we eventually call that person a kind person. The person has not necessarily been born with an identifiable substance called “kindness” inside them, but through repeated actions, kindness can become part of their character and eventually part of their identity.
This is actually quite close to the way virtue ethics understands character. Aristotle’s ethical philosophy treats virtues as dispositions developed through practice and habituation. We become certain kinds of people partly by repeatedly doing certain kinds of things. However, I think kindness has a particular feature that deserves more attention: kindness involves going beyond the minimum.
When we use the expression, “You’ve been very kind,” we often use it when somebody has done something for us that was not strictly required of them. If a doctor treats me when I am ill, I would describe the doctor as doing their job, not being kind to me. If a firefighter rescues me from a burning building, I will not normally describe the firefighter as having performed an act of kindness simply because they rescued me. They were fulfilling the duties associated with their role, so they did not go beyond the minimum expected from them.
If, after the fire has been extinguished, the firefighter stays with a frightened person, holds their hand, talks to them and reassures them until they feel safe, we might describe that additional behaviour as kind. The difference is not necessarily that one action is good and the other is not. The difference is that something has gone beyond what was minimally expected.
If kindness is about crossing a boundary between what is expected and what is additional, the question should be what that boundary is. It is not objective in the sense that it can always be measured with a ruler, but what counts as “the minimum” depends upon the circumstances and on whose expectations we are considering. The relevant expectation might come from society, from our professional role, from what the law says, or from a moral obligation we have imposed upon ourselves. It might also come from the person receiving our kindness, or it might simply be the expectation of an observer. These expectations can differ between cultures, communities and individuals, so the boundary is relative, not absolute.
Imagine that someone has an accident in the street. Calling an ambulance and providing immediate assistance may be what most people would consider the minimum response required by ordinary human decency. But imagine that one person stays beside the injured stranger until the ambulance arrives, talks to them, holds their hand, keeps them calm and makes sure that they are not left alone. That additional attention may be experienced as kindness by the injured person, even if the paramedic arriving may not even consider it.
The important point is not that we can objectively prove that the person did exceed, but that someone recognises that a boundary has been crossed. In my zebra crossing experience, the rider recognised that I was behaving beyond what was expected of me (which was to cross using the priority that my pedestrian condition grants), and expressed with his kind words that I had been kind — see what I did there?
The “giver” of kindness may recognise this themselves (“I didn’t have to do this, but I wanted to.”), the “receiver” may recognise it (“you didn’t have to do this, thank you for doing so.”), or an observer may recognise it (“that was a particularly kind thing to do”).
Sometimes these perceptions will disagree. Perhaps the giver thinks they have gone far beyond what was required, while the receiver thinks they have merely done what any decent person should have done. Or perhaps the giver thinks they have done nothing special, while the receiver experiences the action as an extraordinary act of kindness. This subjectivity does not make the concept meaningless but helps explain why kindness can look different in different circumstances.
This also helps explain why kindness is not synonymous with goodness. An action can be kind without making the whole situation morally good. We can be kind to someone who has behaved badly. We can show consideration towards someone whose actions we strongly disapprove of. Kindness describes something about how we treat another person, but it does not automatically provide a complete moral assessment of that person, their behaviour or the situation.
Likewise, kindness is not synonymous with compassion. Compassion involves an emotional dimension that kindness does not necessarily require. When we experience compassion, we perceive another being’s negative experience (i.e. suffering) and are moved by it. We also feel it, and we feel an urge to help. We are psychologically affected by what the other being is experiencing and develop a desire to solve that problem (i.e., to alleviate that suffering). Compassion is a type of empathy. We can empathise with another being’s positive experiences as well as the neutral or negative ones, but compassion is particularly associated with the negative ones, plus the desire to respond positively to them.
Kindness does not necessarily require empathy or compassion. I can understand intellectually that another person needs help without actually feeling their pain. I can recognise that somebody would benefit from my assistance and decide to help them even though I do not experience a strong emotional response to their situation. If I voluntarily go beyond what is expected of me, that action can still be described as kind. A person who is compassionate through actions is also kind, but compassion is not necessary for kindness.
There is another interesting consequence of this. If kindness involves going beyond the minimum, then kindness can become a form of moral development. We begin by recognising what is required of us, then, at some point, we decide to do a little more, and doing more can become rewarding.
There is sometimes an odd suspicion surrounding the pleasure we receive from doing something good. We may feel that if we enjoyed helping somebody, perhaps our kindness was somehow less genuine, but I think the opposite can be true. If performing an act of kindness gives us a sense of satisfaction (remember my “I feel good” in the zebra crossing incident), there is no reason to reject that feeling. We should cultivate it, because this means we may want to do it again. If I help someone and afterwards feel good because I know that I have done something beyond what was required of me, that feeling can reinforce the behaviour, making me more likely to notice similar opportunities in the future. I learn that going beyond the minimum is not only something I can do but something that feels meaningful and worthwhile. In this sense, kindness can become self-reinforcing.
Being a Kind Vegan
I argued above that kindness is relative to what we consider the minimum. An action becomes kind when somebody crosses a perceived boundary and does more than is expected of them. But what is the minimum?
For a vegan like me, the moral baseline is that we should not harm other sentient beings, and as all exploitation harms them ( “exploitation” being a negative type of “use” that does not benefit the exploited), we should not exploit them. This is closely connected to the ancient concept of ahimsa, understood as non-violence or “not harming”. Veganism, as officially defined by The Vegan Society since 1988, is “a philosophy and way of living that seeks to exclude, as far as possible and practicable, all forms of exploitation of and cruelty to animals for food, clothing or any other purpose.” Therefore, from a vegan angle, not participating in animal exploitation is not an act of kindness in itself because it is the minimum a vegan should do.
This may sound strange to someone who is not vegan. If you stop eating animals, stop wearing their bodies and stop using them for entertainment or other purposes, it might seem that you are doing something extraordinary, beyond what would be expected from you. But from the vegan perspective, you are not doing something extra. You are simply ceasing to participate in something that should never have been considered acceptable in the first place.
This is exactly the same problem we encountered when defining kindness, as different people have different ideas about where the minimum lies. For someone who believes that animals are legitimate resources for human use, eating animals may fall within the boundaries of ordinary behaviour, but for a vegan, it does not, as veganism has moved the moral baseline (and not recently, by the way). If being vegan means refusing to participate in the exploitation of sentient beings, then veganism establishes a minimum standard. Kindness begins when we go beyond that minimum — so, we can have “kind vegans” if they consistently do so.
A person who quietly becomes vegan by adopting the philosophy as moral guidance, and in consequence changes their behaviour and stops participating in exploitation, has already made a significant ethical transformation. But if that is the extent of the veganisation process that person has gone through, there may still be a distinction between simply being vegan and actively helping others in need if the process is purely internal and not perceivable from the outside. If, however, this person begins talking about veganism, answering questions when people ask, writing about veganism, or sharing vegan messages on social media, they have moved beyond simply changing themselves into doing something for others.
This more advanced state is what I describe as “passive vegan activism”, which does not necessarily mean standing in a demonstration, handing out leaflets, talking to strangers in the street, or participating in direct action to rescue Nonhuman Animals (all that would be “active vegan activism”). It means becoming active to help spread veganism rather than remaining merely passive, and could be manifested as simply making your veganism visible by wearing a vegan pin. There is a difference between saying, “No, thank you, I can’t eat that,” and saying, “No, thank you, I’m vegan,” as the first statement just describes a particular behaviour, while the second communicates an identity.
Once veganism becomes part of someone’s identity, they are no longer merely imitating a set of behaviours — the behaviours of vegans — but they are publicly identifying themselves with a moral position that needs to spread. Someone who says, “I’m vegan” is demonstrating that it is possible to live according to the principle of ahimsa and therefore trying not to harm anyone who can be harmed. They are making veganism visible by showing that a person can organise their life around the principle of not exploiting sentient beings of any species. That may already be going beyond the minimum, so, in this sense, becoming a “visible vegan” can be the beginning of being a “kind vegan”.
Becoming a Kinder Vegan
Recently, I wrote an article titled “The Five Developmental Stages of Veganism”, in which I postulate that there is a veganisation process that can develop through several stages (both individually and from a social movement point of view). The first and most important (the foundation of veganism) is the philosophy (understanding the definition and the main axioms of the philosophy while recognising that exploiting any sentient being in any way is morally wrong). The second is lifestyle (changing our behaviour so that we no longer participate in that exploitation). The third is identity (recognising, “I am vegan”, and publicly expressing this new state). The fourth is community (connecting with other vegans and becoming part of a collective effort). The fifth is the socio-political movement (actively participating in the wider social and political transformation towards a Vegan World where exploitation of others is no longer systemic).
The first stage can remain entirely internal, the second stage can exist without making people around you think that you have a significantly different approach to others, but something significant happens at the identity stage. When I say, “I am vegan,” I am no longer merely behaving differently. I am saying that this principle is part of who I am.
And that is where I believe kindness begins. The reason is that I am now doing more than simply avoiding exploitation for myself. I am making a principle visible to other people, and in doing so sending a message that can help them and those who are harmed by them. I have become, in a small way, an example of the possibility of living without exploiting animals. I am going beyond the minimum, so I have become a “kind vegan”.
The next stages simply amplify this, because, when I join a vegan community, I am no longer acting entirely alone. I can help other vegans, support people who are becoming vegan, share information and strengthen a community that is trying to change the way society relates to animals — and do all this more effectively, and therefore reach more people. And when veganism becomes a social movement, the potential reach becomes much greater — literally, the entire world. At that point, kindness is no longer restricted to the individual acts of one person, but it becomes organised, strategic, and widely reaching.
A person can therefore move from performing an act of kindness to developing a pattern of kindness, just as we discussed earlier. One act may be kind, but a repeated pattern may affect more entities and lead us to describe the person as kind. In the same way, a person who simply avoids exploitation is vegan; a person who increasingly uses their time, creativity, voice and energy to help others stop exploiting animals is expressing an increasingly expansive form of vegan kindness, and someone fully involved in building the vegan world of the future (who I call a “veganist”) is taking that kindness to its ultimate degree, becoming a “kinder vegan”.
The Extraordinary Scope of Vegan Kindness
There is something else about veganism that makes its relationship with kindness particularly remarkable. Veganism does not restrict its moral concern to the people immediately around us. It does not say that I should only care about my family, my friends, my neighbours, my tribe, my nation or even my species. It extends moral concern to all sentient beings, wherever they are in the Universe.
Veganism is anti-speciesist (this is expressed in its fourth main axiom, which I write as “Not discriminating against anyone is the right ethical way”), so it rejects the idea that someone’s species membership — or membership to any group different to yours — can determine whether their interests deserve consideration. A sentient being does not become morally irrelevant simply because they belong to a group that is viewed by the self-defined “superior” group as “the others”. This gives veganism a scope of kindness that is unique among any other philosophy, ideology, or worldview (and this is why I have written an article titled “Veganism Is the Only Ethical Choice”). Only veganism establishes an ethical framework whose intended beneficiaries are all sentient beings, without excluding beings because they belong to an inconvenient species or giving humans an automatic moral privilege over them.
There have certainly been philosophical and religious traditions that have developed broad ideas of non-violence. Ahimsa is a tenet of several of them (such as Jainism, Hinduism, and Buddhism). But veganism takes the principle in a uniquely comprehensive and global direction, as it seeks to completely end the exploitation of all animals as a principle, rather than protecting only selected species, permitting their exploitation for particular purposes, or just aiming at “reducing unnecessary suffering” (not even Jainism go as far as veganism, as many Jains in India still do not recognise that exploiting cows is wrong). Veganism does not even limit its scope to Nonhuman Animals, as it treats the human species as any other, and it would reject the exploitation of humans as much as the exploitation of cows, chickens, fishes, or bees. The principles of environmentalism, feminism, pacifism, anti-fascism, anti-Islamophobia, antisemitism, anti-racism, anti-transphobia, etc., are all part of the scope of veganism.
This extended scope changes the significance of being as kind as you can. Imagine you are helping the person who is standing in front of you in an act of kindness because it goes beyond what anyone involved expected. Now imagine helping a hundred people you will never meet, in what can be described as a much larger expression of kindness. Now imagine adopting a principle whose ultimate purpose is to help every sentient being who needs help. That is something qualitatively different.
Veganism takes the instinct to help beyond the individual recipient and turns it into a universal movement affecting everyone. The ultimate objective is not simply to rescue one animal, or even millions of animals individually. It is to transform the system that allows all Nonhuman Animals to be treated as resources in the first place and change the entire world in such a way that any marginalised human communities would also be “liberated” from oppression. The goal is the Vegan World, in which the systematic exploitation of sentient beings has ceased to be part of our social structures.
If that transformation were achieved — as we hope it will, and this is why we are working so hard in building this better world one change at a time — the kindness would not be limited to those who happen to be alive today. It would also affect the countless sentient beings of the future who would otherwise have been born into systems of exploitation. This is why I see veganism as the maximum expression of kindness. You cannot go “beyond your duties” further than that.
This brings us back to where we started. If veganism establishes the minimum — if not exploiting sentient beings is simply what we should expect from ourselves — then kindness begins when we go beyond that minimum and actively work to help others. But the veganisation process itself constantly pushes toward the next stages, so when we reach the vegan identity stage, we begin to be “kind vegans”; when we reach the community stage, we become “kinder vegans”; but when we reach the movement stage, the level of kindness grows exponentially, and we simply become, plain and simple, the ultimate form of a “kind person” — or at least, aspire to become one. This is why, after having been vegan for over 20 years and having gone through the five stages, I no longer see kindness as something separate from veganism. I see veganism as creating the possibility of the most expansive form of kindness imaginable.
If you want to help others beyond what is expected of you, if you want to be seen as a kind person, consider becoming vegan. When that desire to help is extended to every sentient being, without species discrimination and without limiting our concern to those who happen to be closest to us, kindness becomes something much larger than a pleasant personal virtue. It becomes a project for transforming the world and, essentially, saving all its inhabitants.
Perhaps that is the real magic of veganism. Taking something as apparently simple as kindness and removing, one by one, the boundaries that we have traditionally placed around it to limit its scope, until, literally, the sky is the limit.
So, if you are a kind person — or aspire to become one — be vegan. That will lead you into a journey where your kindness will flourish to its ultimate reach.
I can tell you, it will feel very good.
