Notes from the Wired

An Argument for Veganism and an Argument for Amoralism

April 10, 2026 | 4,214 words | 20min read

Part 0: Structure of this Article

This article is essentially about two topics that are not obviously connected with each other, brought together in a single piece. Why not write two separate articles? Because I use the first topic as a jumping-off point for the second.

The first topic is an argument for veganism. To be more precise, it is somewhat weaker: it does not argue against all animal products, but only against the consumption of animal meat. This limitation is not due to a lack of strength in the argument. I think that, with a few additional premises and a slightly longer argument, it would be fairly straightforward to extend the conclusion to a more general vegan position. The reason I have not done this here is that I am less interested in the practical conclusion and more in the theoretical, i.e., the metaphysical, assumptions underlying the argument. Nonetheless, I will refer to it as a “veganism argument” for two reasons: (1) convenience, and (2) because it naturally leads toward a vegan position.

After introducing the argument, I will explain each step in the reasoning and then present some possible “escapes” from this argumentative structure. This will constitute Part 1 of the article.

Part 2 will then focus on one premise of the veganism argument, namely that “morality is normatively binding.” I will argue that this binding force is limited and can be rejected. The result of such a rejection would be the “destruction” of morality for an individual, followed by the need to rebuild it, a reconstruction in a Nietzschean sense.

Part 1: A Veganism Argument

1.1 The Argument in a Nutshell

I want to present an argument for veganism that I think, once one grants its premises, which are not too controversial, fairly easily leads to the conclusion.

Without much further ado, let’s jump directly into the argument, which goes like this:

  1. Morality is a set of rules or guiding principles on how to behave toward things that are morally worth considering.
  2. Morality is real.
  3. Morality is normatively binding, i.e., it has strong normative force.
  4. There are things (objects or subjects) that are morally worth considering.
  5. If a thing is morally worth considering, then whenever one performs an action that explicitly or implicitly involves it, the consequences of that action for that thing must be considered morally.
  6. Humans are morally worth considering.
  7. It is morally wrong to cause unnecessary suffering to another human, or we may only cause suffering to another human if not doing so would result in significantly greater harm to ourselves.
  8. Whatever principle, line, factor, or combination of factors one uses to define “human” without excluding certain individuals (e.g., mentally or physically disabled people) either also applies to animals or is not morally relevant.
  9. Causing unnecessary suffering to animals is morally wrong.
  10. Consuming animal meat causes unnecessary suffering; all the nutrients we need can be obtained without animal products, and the only benefit is taste, which is outweighed by the suffering caused by mass factory farming.
  11. It is morally wrong to eat animal meat.
  12. One must not eat animal meat.

One might have various questions about certain premises or steps in this argument, and even objections. For this reason, I now want to take a closer look at the argument.

1.2 A Deeper Look into the Argument

The 0th step is basically just a working definition of morality so that everyone is clear on what I am talking about. I am not strongly committed to this definition; it is somewhat ad hoc. Even if one is unhappy with it, as long as it remains roughly in the same ballpark, it should not hinder the argument.

The next premise (step 1) is that morality is real. By this, I mean that morality exists in some sense. I do not mean the standard realism vs. anti-realism distinction; rather, I mean that morality exists in some form, whether realist or anti-realist. It could be law-like, human-created, based on desires, written into the universe, or explained in many other ways. Even fictionalist accounts would be acceptable. What this excludes is the total rejection of morality.

That morality is normatively binding (step 2) should not be too controversial. This is also sometimes expressed by saying that morality has “strong normative force,” meaning it has authority over us and binds our actions to some extent. If morality were not normatively binding, there would be no reason to follow it, it would be inert. One way to imagine this is to consider a set of laws that exist but are never specified to apply to anyone: they exist, but they have no force.

In step 3, I posit the existence of things that are morally worth considering. This follows from morality being real and binding: morality must apply to something, otherwise it would be an empty concept. Importantly, things that are morally worth considering are not the same as moral agents. A stone or a leaf is not morally worth considering, meaning we do not need to consider the consequences of our actions for them. This is not the case for humans. A moral agent, by contrast, is something that can be morally culpable i.e., capable of acting against moral norms. For example, we blame a human for killing another human, but we do not blame a machine that causes death. However, not everything that is morally considerable is a moral agent. For example, a tree in a neighbor’s garden may be morally relevant (indirectly), but the tree itself is not a moral agent.

Step 4 clarifies the relationship between morally considerable beings, actions, and morality.

That humans are morally worth considering (step 5) should also be clear, as morality is most often applied to them. The justification for this stems from moral intuition.

Step 6 may be the first controversial point. Initially, it seems intuitive that one should not cause unnecessary suffering, where “unnecessary” means suffering inflicted for trivial reasons, such as gaining a minor benefit while causing significantly greater harm to another. This involves a kind of utilitarian reasoning, which might exclude Kantian or virtue-ethical systems. However, the argument can still proceed within other ethical frameworks, though the conclusion may change slightly. For example, under a strict rule-based system, the premise may be replaced by “It is morally wrong to kill another human,” and step 9 would change accordingly to something like “Consuming animal meat involves the unjustified killing of an animal.”

Step 7 is where the real controversy begins. However, even if one rejects it, the premise could be replaced by a version of Peter Singer’s argument from all animals are equal, which replaces similarity criteria with equal consideration of like interests. This is essentially a “name the trait” argument.

Let us consider possible criteria for distinguishing humans from animals:

Plausible CriterionA plausible criterion for what is morally worth considering is the capacity to suffer. This is morally relevant and aligns with how we often think about moral action. However, animals clearly meet this criterion.

If this step is accepted, then step 8 follows: since we cannot draw a morally relevant distinction, and unnecessary suffering is wrong in humans, it should also be wrong for animals.

Finally, step 9 concludes that eating animals for pleasure is unnecessary suffering. Since we can obtain all required nutrients from plant-based diets, the only benefit is taste, which is outweighed by the suffering caused by industrial farming. From step 8, it follows in step 10 that eating animal meat is morally wrong. And since morality is normatively binding (step 2), we are obligated not to eat animal meat.

1.3 Possible Escapes

There are two possible “escapes” that I think exist that diminish the strength of the argument. I still think the argument goes through, but its consequences are weakened.

The first is to argue that, yes, animals may be capable of suffering, experiencing pain, and being conscious, but there is still a morally relevant difference between animals and humans: humans have a desire to continue existing, whereas animals do not. The idea is that humans, due to their intellect, understand what it means not to exist, we grasp the significance of death through introspection. This may not be true for animals, which may lack this reflective awareness and therefore do not have the same desire to continue their existence.

This does not invalidate the entire argument. Causing unnecessary suffering to animals would still be wrong, for example, factory farming would remain morally unacceptable. However, it might allow for killing animals and then eating them, as long as this does not produce suffering. But even under this view, most meat consumption in modern society, which relies heavily on factory farming, would still be wrong.

The second argument is that morality applies only to the human species. The key question here is whether this distinction is morally relevant.

To clarify what I mean by moral relevance, consider the following: suppose we claimed that people with long hair are not morally worth considering, while people with short hair are. Here we would have a clear distinguishing feature, hair length, but no one would accept it as morally relevant. The same question applies to species: why should species membership be morally important?

One possible response is that morality has developed organically through evolution and culture to help humans live together, to enable a functioning society. On this view, morality applies only to humans because it was created for human social life.

In other words, animals are excluded not because of some fundamental ethical principle, but because morality is a constructed phenomenon that was not designed to protect them.

This view has some plausibility, but it also has issues. Just because morality currently functions in a certain way does not mean it ought to remain that way. When we discuss what is morally relevant, we are not only describing what is, but also arguing about what should be. From this perspective, one could argue that we should care about animal suffering.

The question then becomes: why care about animal suffering? A possible answer, consistent with a Humean view, is that what has normative force over us is what we care about and we do, in fact, care about animal suffering.

There are various other “escapes” that are often invoked, but which I do not find plausible. A short list includes: nutritional necessity, appeals to nature, the idea that there are bigger issues, causal inefficacy, denial of animal consciousness, denial of animal rights, and the problem of animal deaths during crop harvesting. For a discussion of these, see this video: https://youtu.be/JuGSJ8ta5Z0?si=txFOtcImgQ-QTsTI

Part 2: Morality and Normative Force

Up to this point, I have argued that veganism follows from a fairly standard moral framework. However, this argument is conditional: it assumes that morality has a certain amount of normative force.

In the following section, I want to step back and question this very assumption. This does not invalidate the previous argument, but rather reframes it: its force depends on whether one accepts morality or not.

2.1 The Problem with Normative Force

If you recall step 2 of the argument, I claimed that morality is normatively binding, which is crucial for the argument to work. However, I am highly suspicious of this claim. To understand why, let us take a closer look at what this supposed normative force is.

When I said that morality is normatively binding, I meant that it has strong normative force. In other words, what we must or are obligated to do is determined by moral rules. Morality, in this sense, holds a certain authority over us: we cannot simply do whatever we want, but are compelled in some way to act morally.

To better understand what normative binding would amount to, consider the following thought experiment. Imagine you are walking through a shopping mall and see an arcade machine. You have the option to walk past it or to sit down, insert a coin, and start playing. Notice that you are not forced to do either; in this sense, playing the arcade machine is not binding.

Now imagine a different scenario: instead of freely walking around, you are kidnapped, chained to the arcade machine, and only released if you play a game. Here, you are clearly bound, you are compelled to act.

We can now ask: is morality more like the first case or the second? It seems obvious that it is more like the first. Even in trivial situations, people often choose not to act morally. If you are faced with a moral decision, what compels you to act one way rather than another? You can, in principle, opt out of the system of morality entirely and adopt an attitude of not caring about it. What stops you? In principle nothing, except your own desire to be moral. But if that desire disappears, then there is no normative force compelling you to act morally.

One problem with this notion of normative binding is its strictness. A reasonable question is: what would actually satisfy such a criterion? As I have defined it, almost nothing would. Consider eating: eating is necessary for survival, but if I no longer care about surviving, if I lose the desire to live, then nothing compels me to continue eating. I could, as a result, starve. Would we then say that eating is not binding?

This seems counterintuitive. If something is supposed to be binding i.e., to have authority over us, should it not at least include our continued survival?

Perhaps a better notion is that of normative force rather than strict normative binding. We can imagine normative force as a sliding scale: from very weak (where a system has little authority over us) to very strong (which we might call binding).

Any system, laws of a country, personal rules for interacting with others, or morality, can fall somewhere on this scale. Some exert more force on us than others.

At the strongest end, normative binding would mean absolute inescapability, like physical laws. At weaker levels, morality provides something like reason-giving authority: even if it is not inescapable, it gives us strong reasons to act in certain ways.

However, there is still a problem. Since morality is not strictly binding, as argued above, it seems that we can escape from it. What does it mean “to escape morality”? To explore this, I want to provide a plausible genealogy, that is a history, of morality.

2.2 Genealogy of Morality

Humans are social creatures, and we have always been social. What has changed over time is the degree of sociality. Today, many people live in large metropolitan areas with millions of inhabitants, but early humans lived in small tribes of perhaps a few dozen individuals.

Even then, what made humans unique compared to other animals was their cognitive ability. A single human could not outrun a deer, but a group working together could hunt one. This required cooperation, and cooperation, in turn, required rules governing behavior within the group.

It was therefore evolutionarily advantageous for a tribe to develop something like morality. If we imagine two tribes, one with moral norms and one without, the former would likely have an advantage. Moral norms foster harmony, enable trust, and create shared expectations about behavior.

This likely led, relatively early in human history, to the development of a kind of proto-morality: a simple, coarse-grained system of basic rules.

Over time, as tribes grew into villages, and villages into cities, moral systems became more complex and fine-grained. In large societies, individuals can no longer know everyone personally, so trust must be maintained through shared norms rather than personal relationships.

This led to the organic development of morality from these earlier proto-systems. People within these societies effectively developed a kind of social contract, though not one that was ever explicitly written down. Instead, it emerged implicitly and continues to evolve through ongoing social interaction. This renegotiation takes place through the use of moral language.

Over time, this process gave rise to the moral systems we recognize today.

2.3 Bringing Genealogy of Morality and Normative Force Together

If this picture is correct, then morality is a construct: a system shaped by evolutionary pressures and human social needs to help us live together. It is not some mystical or metaphysical force that compels us independently of our motivations.

Returning to normative force: as argued earlier, morality is not strictly binding. It does not compel us in the way physical laws do. Instead, it pushes us in certain directions. The question is: what is this “push”?

The answer, I suggest, is desire (in a Humean sense). We desire to be moral, and because of this, morality has authority over us.

Why do we have this desire? Partly because of evolutionary pressures, we want others to see us as moral, which brings social benefits. And partly because of social expectations: those who are perceived as immoral are often condemned or ostracized.

But this leads to a problem.

If we follow morality only because we desire to do so, then the strength of morality’s authority depends entirely on the strength of that desire. Morality has only as much force as we allow it to have. If the desire to be moral disappears, then we effectively opt out of the system of morality.

This raises a deeper question: do we want to want to be moral? Should we have a second-order desire (in the sense discussed by Harry Frankfurt) to be moral or not?

2.4 Pros and Cons of Moralism and Amoralism

The answer is not clear-cut. It depends on what one wants. Both moralism and amoralism have advantages and disadvantages.

2.5 The Argument for Amoralism

A clarification is needed: being an amoralist does not mean being cruel. An amoralist, like anyone else, has people they care about and may wish to treat them well. Rejecting morality does not imply brutality.

In fact, one might argue the opposite: the amoralist has complete freedom to act with as much kindness and love as possible, unconstrained by external rules.

This raises a natural question: why be an amoralist at all? Does this not just recreate morality in a different form?

The argument for amoralism is that morality, as a system of rules, can corrupt the purity of our intentions. Instead of acting out of genuine care, we may act out of fear: fear of punishment, fear of judgment, or simple rule-following. In this sense, we become reactive rather than truly autonomous.

Pure kindness and love, by contrast, are not motivated by fear or obligation. They are not instrumental. They arise spontaneously, without expectation of reward. When one is filled with such care, one cannot help but act in ways that express it, like a spring that overflows.

“Boundless compassion for all living beings is the surest and most certain guarantee of pure moral conduct…”

— Arthur Schopenhauer

It is important to emphasize that this reconstruction is not universal. Once morality is abandoned, there is no longer a single framework that applies to everyone. Each individual must reconstruct their way of relating to others for themselves. But, the view described above, offers one possible reconstruction path.

A final question remains: how would this look in practice?

One way to understand this is through the concept of skillful means in Buddhism. An enlightened being may act in ways that appear immoral, but are in fact guided by compassion and wisdom.

The following story illustrates this idea. It should not be taken literally, but as an example of how such a view might be understood in practice:

  1. Then the Lord again addressed the bodhisattva Jñanottara: “Son of the family: Once upon a time, long before the Thus-Come-One, the Worthy, the fully perfected Buddha Dīpaṁkara, there were five hundred merchants who set sail on the high seas in search of wealth. Among the company was a doer of dark deeds, a doer of evil deeds, a robber well- trained in the art of weaponry, who had come on board that very ship. He thought, ‘I will kill all these merchants when they have completed their business and done what they set out to do, take all their possessions and go to Jambu Continent.’ “Son of the family: Then the merchants completed their business and set about to depart. No sooner had they done so, than that deceitful person thought: ‘Now I will kill all these merchants, take all their possessions and go to Jambu Continent. The time has come.’

  2. “At the same time, among the company on board was a captain named Great Compassionate (sārthavāha mahākāruṇika). While Captain Great Compassionate slept on one occasion, the deities who dwelt in that ocean showed him this in a dream: “ ‘Among this ship’s company is a person named so and so, of such and such sort of physique, of such and such garb, complexion and shape—a robber, mischievous, a thief of others’ property. He is thinking, “I will kill all these merchants, take all their possessions and go to Jambu Continent.” To kill these merchants would create formidable evil karma for that person. Why so? These five hundred merchants are all progressing toward supreme, right and full awakening. If he should kill these bodhisattvas, the fault—the obstacle caused by the deed—would cause him to burn in the great hells for as long as it takes each one of these bodhisattvas to achieve supreme, right and full awakening, consecutively. Therefore, Captain, think of some skill in means to prevent this person from killing the five hundred merchants and going to the great hells because of the deed.’

  3. “Son of the family: Then the captain Great Compassionate awoke. He considered what means there might be to prevent that person from killing the five hundred merchants and going to the great hells. Seven days passed with a wind averse to sailing to Jambu Continent. During those seven days he plunged deep into thought, not speaking to anyone. “He thought, ‘There is no means to prevent this man from slaying the merchants and going to the great hells, but to kill him.’ “And he thought, ‘If I were to report this to the merchants, they would kill and slay him with angry thoughts and all go to the great hells themselves.’ “And he thought, ‘If I were to kill this person, I would likewise burn in the great hells for one hundred-thousand eons because of it. Yet I can bear to experience the pain of the great hells, that this person not slay these five hundred merchants and develop so much evil karma. I will kill this person myself.

  4. Son of the family: Accordingly, the captain Great Compassionate protected those five hundred merchants and protected that person from going to the great hells by deliberately stabbing and slaying that person who was a robber with a spear, with great compassion and skill in means. And all among the company completed their business and each went to his own city.

  5. “Son of the family. At that time, in that life I was none other than the captain Great Compassionate. Have no second thoughts or doubt on this point. The five hundred merchants on board are the five hundred bodhisattvas who are to nirvāṇize to supreme, right and full awakening in this Auspicious Eon. “Son of the family: For me, saṁsāra was curtailed for one hundred-thousand eons because of that skill in means and great compassion. And the robber died to be be reborn in a world of paradise.

  6. “Son of the family, what do you think of this? Can curtailing birth and death for one hundred-thousand eons with that skill in means and that great compassion be regarded as the Bodhisattva’s obstacle caused by past deeds? Do not view it in that way. It should be regarded as his very skill in means.

~ Upāyakauśalya Sūtra, Murder with Skill in Means: the Story of the Compassionate Ship’s Captain

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