8 contradictions in vegan culture no one wants to talk about – VegOut

I’ve been vegan for nearly a decade now, and I love it. The ethics align with my values, the food makes me feel great, and I genuinely believe it’s better for the planet.

But here’s what I’ve learned in those years: we don’t talk about these contradictions honestly. We either pretend they don’t exist or we get defensive when someone points them out. And that defensiveness doesn’t serve anyone, least of all the cause we care about.

I transitioned to veganism at 35 after reading about factory farming. I couldn’t unsee what I’d learned. But coming from nearly two decades as a financial analyst, I also couldn’t turn off my tendency to notice inconsistencies and gaps in logic.

These contradictions don’t make veganism wrong. They make it human. And I think acknowledging them openly makes the movement stronger, not weaker.

1) Preaching accessibility while promoting expensive alternatives

Walk into any vegan gathering or scroll through vegan social media, and you’ll hear passionate arguments about how plant-based eating is accessible to everyone. And then in the next breath, someone’s recommending a $15 superfood powder or a $40 specialty cheese.

I see this constantly at the farmers’ market where I volunteer every Saturday. Someone asks about going vegan, and well-meaning people immediately start listing expensive products. Cashew cheese, nutritional yeast, specialty meat alternatives, organic produce.

The reality? Beans, rice, lentils, and seasonal vegetables are genuinely affordable. But that’s not what gets promoted on Instagram. What gets promoted are the beautiful smoothie bowls with imported acai and the elaborate cheese boards with artisanal vegan products.

I’m guilty of this too. I spend probably three times as much on groceries as I did before going vegan, not because plant-based eating is inherently expensive, but because I buy premium products. And there’s nothing wrong with that if you can afford it. But let’s stop pretending we’re all just eating beans and rice when many of us are dropping serious money at Whole Foods.

2) Claiming environmental superiority while ordering cross-continental produce

One of the strongest arguments for veganism is environmental impact. And it’s a good argument. Animal agriculture is genuinely devastating for the planet.

But then I watch people order cases of cashews from Vietnam, coconut products from Thailand, and quinoa from South America while criticizing someone for eating local eggs from their neighbor’s backyard chickens.

The carbon footprint calculation gets complicated quickly. Is it better to eat imported avocados year-round or locally raised meat once a week? I honestly don’t know. But I do know we can’t claim environmental superiority while ignoring the impact of our own consumption patterns.

I had to confront this personally when I realized my trail running shoes, which I replace every few months, probably have a worse environmental impact than many people’s occasional meat consumption. The cognitive dissonance was uncomfortable.

This video captures exactly what I’m talking about when it comes to the gap between vegan principles and actual environmental impact:

The example about almond milk and bee deaths hit me hard when I first learned about it. Here I was, proudly avoiding honey to protect bees, while the almond milk in my coffee contributed to killing billions of them. That’s the kind of contradiction we need to talk about honestly.

3) Emphasizing compassion while being cruel to other humans

The foundation of veganism is compassion for animals. It’s about reducing suffering.

Yet some of the cruelest interactions I’ve witnessed have been vegans attacking other vegans for not being vegan enough. Or attacking non-vegans with a level of vitriol that seems wildly disproportionate.

I’ve seen someone reduced to tears at a potluck because they brought a dish with honey. I’ve watched online pile-ons of people asking genuine questions about nutrition. I’ve witnessed the kind of judgment and shame that pushes people away rather than inviting them in.

If the goal is reducing animal suffering, alienating potential allies seems counterproductive. But somehow the pursuit of ethical perfection can override basic human kindness.

I fell into this trap early in my vegan journey. I was so sure I’d found the moral high ground that I looked down on everyone who hadn’t. It took my partner Marcus gently pointing out that my self-righteousness was exhausting before I started examining my own behavior.

4) Focusing on individual choices while ignoring systemic issues

Vegan culture puts enormous emphasis on personal responsibility. What you eat, what you wear, what products you buy.

And individual choices matter. I’m not suggesting they don’t.

But the fixation on individual consumption can distract from larger systemic problems. The same corporations destroying the planet for animal agriculture are also destroying it for monoculture crops. The same systems exploiting animals are exploiting human workers.

Yet I rarely hear vegans discussing labor conditions in agricultural industries or the environmental devastation of certain plant crops. The conversation stays focused on individual dietary choices rather than the economic and political systems that make ethical consumption so difficult.

Coming from finance, I learned to look at systems, not just individual actions. A hundred people changing their diet matters far less than one policy change affecting agricultural subsidies. But that’s a harder conversation to have than telling someone to stop eating cheese.

5) Celebrating processed foods while criticizing “unnatural” diets

There’s a strand of vegan culture that promotes “natural” eating and whole foods. And I appreciate that perspective.

But then turn around and you’ll find vegans celebrating ultra-processed meat alternatives, heavily fortified nutritional products, and laboratory-created supplements as innovations.

Which is it? Are we eating naturally or are we embracing food technology?

Both positions are defensible. But they contradict each other. You can’t simultaneously argue that eating animal products is unnatural for humans while promoting foods that require advanced chemistry and industrial processing.

I cook elaborate vegan meals most nights, and I use both whole ingredients and processed alternatives depending on what I’m making. I’m not saying one approach is better. I’m saying we need to be honest about the contradiction.

6) Demanding purity while making constant exceptions

Vegan culture has a purity problem. There’s intense debate about whether honey is vegan, whether you can call yourself vegan if you own leather purchased before going vegan, whether plant-based diet and vegan are the same thing.

But almost everyone makes exceptions somewhere. The medications we take were tested on animals. The vegetables we eat involve harvesting practices that kill insects and small animals. The cars we drive, the phones we use, the buildings we inhabit all involved animal exploitation at some point in their production.

Perfect veganism is impossible in our current system. But instead of acknowledging that and focusing on harm reduction, there’s constant policing of who’s vegan enough.

I struggled with this all-or-nothing thinking early on. I’d beat myself up over tiny infractions. Eventually I realized that striving for perfection was making me miserable and wasn’t actually helping animals. Progress matters more than perfection.

7) Promoting health while ignoring nutritional nuance

Talk to some vegans and you’ll hear that a plant-based diet cures everything. Cancer, diabetes, heart disease, you name it.

The research does show benefits for many people. But it’s not magic, and it’s not universal.

Some people genuinely struggle to get adequate nutrition on a vegan diet. Some have medical conditions that make it difficult or impossible. Some find their health declines without animal products.

But acknowledging this reality is seen as betrayal. There’s intense pressure to present veganism as nutritionally superior in all cases for all people, even when that’s not supported by evidence.

I feel great as a vegan. My energy is good, my digestion is good, my health markers are good. But I also take B12 supplements and track my nutrition carefully because I have the knowledge and resources to do so. Not everyone does.

8) Claiming moral clarity while navigating constant ethical trade-offs

This might be the biggest contradiction of all.

Veganism presents itself as a clear ethical choice. Don’t exploit animals. Simple.

Except it’s not simple. The farm worker conditions for harvesting almonds are horrific. The environmental impact of certain crops is devastating. The accessibility issues mean veganism remains largely a privilege of the wealthy in many parts of the world.

Every choice involves trade-offs. Buying organic means supporting better farming practices but often means less accessibility. Buying local means lower carbon footprint but potentially supporting small-scale animal agriculture. Buying conventional means affordability but supporting industrial farming systems.

There’s no purely ethical consumption under capitalism. And veganism, for all its benefits, doesn’t exempt us from that reality.

I believe veganism is a meaningful step toward reducing harm. I believe it matters. But I’ve also learned to hold my choices with more humility. I’m doing my best within a system that makes ethical choices difficult for everyone.

Conclusion

None of these contradictions mean veganism is wrong or hypocritical or not worth pursuing.

They mean it’s a human movement, practiced by imperfect people, within imperfect systems.

The question isn’t whether these contradictions exist. They do. The question is whether we can acknowledge them honestly and work through them together, or whether we’ll keep pretending everything is simple and straightforward.

I’ve found that talking about these issues openly with other vegans who are willing to engage thoughtfully makes me more committed to the cause, not less. Because it moves beyond dogma into genuine ethical reasoning.

If you’re vegan, sit with these contradictions. Notice where they show up in your own life. Be honest about the complexity.

And if you’re not vegan but have been put off by the culture, know that not all of us think there’s only one right way to do this. Some of us are just trying to reduce harm where we can while acknowledging how messy and complicated that actually is.