Pessimism is an understandable outlook in our current political context; one defined by intensifying domestic, regional and international conflict, the breakdown of ecosystems and deeply inadequate governmental responses, and so on. But in the face of such challenges, what is “pessimism”, exactly? Pessimism can be defined as a negative assessment of reality; and the view that having faith in the moral capacities of human“kind” to bring about meaningful and sustained change for the better – for ourselves and for those who are impacted by our existences – is misled, or even delusional.
Such thinking can, and often does, give rise to “fatalism”: a kind of giving up – giving up on the fight against injustice; giving up on the fight for a better world, for better lives for ourselves and for others within our sphere of influence. Fatalism, in other words, is a kind of acceptance; rather than fighting for change, a fatalist simply accepts things as they are, regardless of how horrific they might be. A related though distinct response to pessimism is that of “quietism”, which is also a form of acceptance, but perhaps one defined less by a defeatist surrendering to doom and more by a composed embracing – or at the very least, toleration – of the way things are.
In an interview conducted in a war-torn neighbourhood of a deeply patriarchal society, a woman was once asked: “How do you manage to remain so optimistic?” Her response? “I cannot afford to be pessimistic”. Unquestionably, pessimistic conclusions can be and are reached by people in all contexts. What’s not satisfactory to those hoping to survive threatening predicaments, however, are pessimistic responses – those of fatalism and quietism. Such responses are the luxuries of those fortunate enough to be living free from war, oppression, exploitation, and other hellish realities; fatalism and quietism, in other words, are privileges of those safe enough to be resigned to the way things currently are.
Fatalism and quietism may bring comfort to those who are (currently) safe, but they do nothing for the billions of individuals trapped inside farms, slaughterhouses, scientific labs, zoos, aquariums, and other institutions of exploitation, oppression and death. Whilst some likely cease resisting and retreat into a detached endurance of their grim fate, countless nonhuman animals in said institutions tirelessly fight for their freedom, their dignity, their lives, and the lives of those around them. When all possible power to create change has been stripped from you, giving up is a comprehensible response to injustice. But for those of us with even the slightest potential to create change, fatalism and quietism in the face of injustice amount to acts of abandonment, and therefore betrayal.
Those of us with the privilege of choice regarding what we consume and otherwise support – financially, politically, behaviourally – owe to those who do not have a choice in their suffering our best efforts to bring about change. Statistics on the consumption of nonhuman animal flesh (meat) illustrate an ever-increasing rise in the human exploitation and oppression of nonhuman animals. Pessimism is understandable in the face of such realities, but fatalism and quietism are not justifiable responses to this pessimism. To resign into fatalism and quietism – to accept, even if with regret, the way things currently are – is to wallow in our privilege; the privilege of being human in an anthropocentric world, the privilege of being an oppressor and not the oppressed, the privilege of giving up on another being’s suffering.
I speak as a pessimist myself, but my commitment to those less privileged than I am necessitates in me an unwavering commitment to veganism and vegan advocacy – a veganism rooted in opposition to all forms of oppression; for the sake of all beings (nonhuman and human) who suffer as a result of human behaviours, institutions and belief systems that render them marginalised, objectified, exploited, and oppressed. We cannot allow pessimism – no matter how seemingly justified – to develop into fatalism and quietism, for to do so is to lose sight of our human privilege and to ultimately turn our backs on the oppressed. We owe our fellow earthlings a lot more than this.
