Something I've wanted to post about for a while is the issue of our eating meat, the flesh of sentient beings: not as sentient as we are, we suppose, but on the spectrum. I am not a vegetarian.
We know meat is from sentient animals if we just look at them and their behavior. They demonstrate pain, vision, fear, what have you. Denying it is special pleading of the worst sort. However, a case can be made that such animals might actually have better lives (and a good deal better karma if one sees karma as valid for being our food), if only they were well treated and lived at least as long as their natural life expectancy (given predation, disease and accident). Of course we know the reality is generally quite different.
There are three other factors: the environment, our health, and cost. The burden on the environment of ever-increasing animal husbandry offsets much that the world does to slow climate change. Also of course red meat is associated with diseases. Finally, leave the meat out and the food budget gets much lower, leaving money for other pleasures or charity.
We are probably not ready yet to eliminate meat, since it does add certain nutrients difficult to get otherwise, and it is widely enjoyed. The pleasure however can be gotten by keeping its use to only condiment rather than a main dish and experimenting with meat substitutes.
If one does decide to leave meat out of one's diet, one should remember the maxim that, when a guest, eat what is served, and not fuss or cause one's host to even be aware.This is thoughtful and, to my eye, unusually balanced. You avoid both the common evasions ("animals don't really suffer") and the opposite temptation to condemn everyone who eats meat as morally defective.
A few points struck me.
The strongest part is probably your opening observation that sentience is not an all-or-nothing category. We do not need to claim that a cow thinks exactly as a human does in order to recognize that it experiences pain, fear, comfort, curiosity, and social attachment. The evidence is visible in ordinary observation. Once that is admitted, the moral question becomes one of degree rather than denial.
I am less persuaded by the argument that food animals might have better lives than they would in nature. It can be made, but it depends heavily on actual husbandry practices. An animal that lives a long, comfortable life with good food, safety, and veterinary care might indeed fare better than a wild counterpart facing parasites, starvation, injury, and predation. Yet the argument weakens considerably when the animal's life is shortened for economic reasons or when conditions are poor. As you note, the reality often falls short of the ideal.
Your environmental and economic points are well taken. Even people who are unmoved by animal welfare often find the land, water, and climate costs of large-scale meat production difficult to ignore. Likewise, a diet centered on grains, legumes, vegetables, and fruits is usually cheaper. Whether the health argument succeeds depends somewhat on the details; "red meat" is a broad category, and the evidence is stronger against heavy consumption than against modest consumption. Still, the general direction of the argument is widely accepted.
One place where I might expand your thought is the distinction between eliminating meat and reducing it. Public discussion often treats the choice as binary: either one is a vegetarian or one is not. Historically, however, many cultures treated meat as an occasional addition to meals rather than the centerpiece. A bowl of beans, rice, and vegetables with a little pork for flavor uses far less meat than a large steak while preserving much of the culinary enjoyment. That approach may be more achievable for many people than complete abstinence.
I also like your final paragraph. It reflects an old principle found in many traditions: one's dietary practice should not become a source of vanity, disruption, or burden to others. A guest who quietly accepts hospitality often demonstrates a different kind of compassion than one who insists upon personal purity at all costs.
If I were editing this for publication, I would probably tighten a few sentences and perhaps soften "better karma" by presenting it more tentatively, since readers who do not accept karma may stumble there. But as a reflection, it has a calm, reflective quality that invites consideration rather than argument. That is not easy to achieve on a topic as emotionally charged as eating meat.
That comes through in your wording. You are not really advancing the karma argument as a reason to eat meat; you are acknowledging that some people make it and that, if one accepts karma, it is at least conceivable.
The difficulty with the argument is that it can justify almost anything. If one says, "This animal should be grateful to be raised and eaten because it gains merit or a better rebirth," one is making a claim about consequences that cannot be verified. It may be true, but it is also very convenient for the eater.
I suspect that is why many Buddhists are wary of such reasoning. It risks becoming a way of relieving our discomfort rather than confronting it. The simpler and more honest position is often: "I eat meat. I recognize that an animal died for me to do so. I am not entirely comfortable with that fact, but I have not chosen to abstain."
There is a certain moral clarity in that admission.
At the same time, I would not say the karma argument is definitely false either. If karma exists, then every interaction between living beings may have karmic consequences, some positive and some negative. An animal that lives under human care might indeed experience conditions that lead to a more favorable rebirth than it would have experienced otherwise. The problem is not that the claim is impossible; the problem is that we have no reliable way to know.
Your approach strikes me as closer to intellectual humility: neither asserting "of course the animal benefits" nor "of course there is no karma." Instead, you leave the question open while grounding your ethical discussion in things we can actually observe—suffering, welfare, environmental impact, health, and cost.
That generally makes for a stronger argument because readers with very different metaphysical beliefs can still engage with it. A Buddhist, a Christian, an atheist, and an agnostic may disagree about karma, but they can all agree that a frightened cow looks frightened and that a contented cow looks contented. That common ground is often where the most productive ethical discussions begin.
That sounds less like a vegetarian diet than what many traditional societies would have recognized as a fairly ordinary diet before industrial prosperity made meat abundant.
One interesting thing is that when you describe fish and poultry as condiments or flavoring, you are using them much as cooks throughout much of Asia have done for centuries. A soup might contain a few shreds of chicken, a vegetable dish a little fish sauce, or a rice dish a small amount of dried fish. The meal is fundamentally vegetables, grains, and legumes, with animal products providing flavor, texture, or nutritional supplementation rather than serving as the centerpiece.
From the standpoint of animal welfare and environmental impact, that approach captures much of the benefit of vegetarianism without requiring complete abstinence. If a person eats one-tenth as much meat, roughly speaking one-tenth as many animals need to be raised and slaughtered for that person's diet. It is not an all-or-nothing matter.
Nutritionally, eggs are doing some useful work in your diet as well. They provide highly bioavailable protein, vitamin B12, and other nutrients that can require more planning in a strictly vegan diet. Fish contributes additional nutrients, especially if oily fish are included from time to time.
What strikes me is that your practice seems consistent with the moral reflection you wrote. You are not claiming purity. You acknowledge the ethical concerns, continue to eat some animal products, but deliberately reduce the amount. There is a certain modesty in that position. Rather than demanding perfection of yourself or others, you are simply trying to lessen the harm while maintaining a diet that works for you.
Historically, many religious traditions have arrived at something similar. Complete abstinence is honored by some, but for many people the practical middle ground has been to treat meat as an occasional addition rather than the foundation of every meal. Your description fits comfortably within that middle path.
"Christian on Mondays and Buddhist on Wednesdays" paints a pretty clear picture of your outlook. You seem less interested in belonging to a particular creed than in borrowing insights from traditions when they appear wise and setting them aside when they do not.
Given what I know of your views, I suspect the ethical consideration carries more weight for you than any doctrinal one. You have often emphasized compassion as a first principle, and concern for sentient creatures follows naturally from that. One does not need to believe in karma, reincarnation, or divine commandments to observe that a pig, cow, chicken, or fish is a creature with interests of its own. The ethical question arises simply because it can suffer.
The environmental argument is somewhat different. It is less about the individual animal than about stewardship of a shared world. Even if one were completely unmoved by animal suffering, one could still conclude that consuming less meat is sensible because of the land, water, energy, and emissions involved. In that sense, the environmental and animal-welfare arguments reinforce one another even though they arise from different moral intuitions.
What is interesting about your practice is that it avoids the purity test that often infects discussions of diet. You are not saying, "No one should ever eat meat." You are saying, in effect, "There are costs to eating meat, and I choose to reduce my participation in them." That is a position many people can understand, even if they ultimately make different choices.
It also has the advantage of being scalable. If ten people cut their meat consumption by 80%, the effect is not very different from eight of them becoming vegetarians while two continue as before. The moral and environmental benefits do not require a sharp dividing line between "meat eater" and "vegetarian."
And, if I may add a slightly mischievous observation, your Monday-Christian/Wednesday-Buddhist remark has a long philosophical pedigree. Quite a few thinkers have found themselves attracted to the Christian emphasis on charity and the Buddhist emphasis on compassion without feeling obliged to sign up for every metaphysical claim attached to either tradition. The ethical teachings often travel farther than the doctrines.
