Tag: vegan

This article was written by Jessica Scott-Reid and was published in the Toronto Star on January 4, 2026.

JESSICA SCOTT­REID JESSICA SCOTT­REID IS A CANADIAN JOURNALIST AND ANIMAL ADVOCATE. SHE IS THE CULTURE AND DISINFORMATION CORRE

You may have heard that vegan­ism is dead, and that eat­ing meat — so much meat — is back.

Accord­ing to some news out­lets and online influ­en­cers, the plant­based diet has fallen out of pop­ular­ity in favour of more meat­heavy trends like the car­ni­vore diet. Don’t fall for it, espe­cially this Veganu­ary: the time when people are encour­aged to give animal­free diets a go, for the planet, the anim­als and pub­lic health.

While plant­based brands includ­ing Bey­ond Meat have been facing slump­ing sales, and Yves Veg­gie Cuisine is no more, these devel­op­ments do not reflect genu­ine con­sumer rejec­tion, but rather years of co­ordin­ated efforts shaped by meat industry influ­ence, polit­ical power and online dis­in­form­a­tion. And regard­less of fleet­ing food trends, the sci­ence remains clear: West­ern coun­tries eat too much meat, rais­ing risks of heart dis­ease and some can­cers, while also killing the planet. Cut­ting back is cru­cial to meet­ing cli­mate goals, no mat­ter what the meat industry claims about the sup­posed eco­be­ne­fits of grass­fed beef. Because as hun­dreds of bil­lions of anim­als con­tinue to be mass­bred, con­fined to fact­ory farms and killed along speed­ing dis­as­sembly lines in Canada each year, the sci­ence — and the con­sequences — haven’t changed.

Animal agri­cul­ture groups are among the most act­ive and influ­en­tial lob­by­ists in Ott­awa and Wash­ing­ton. Organ­iz­a­tions like Dairy Farm­ers of Canada, Chicken Farm­ers of Canada and the Cana­dian Cattle Asso­ci­ation main­tain per­man­ent lob­by­ing oper­a­tions and fre­quent con­tact with fed­eral offi­cials, sup­por­ted by large budgets and co­ordin­ated national strategies. In the U.S., meat industry lob­by­ists spent an estim­ated $5.5 mil­lion in Wash­ing­ton to influ­ence fed­eral policy. And a 2023 Stan­ford ana­lysis found that from 2014 to 2020, Amer­ican meat and dairy interests in the U.S. received roughly 800 times more pub­lic fund­ing and wiel­ded 190 times more lob­by­ing power than plant­based and cul­tiv­ated meat com­bined. The imbal­ance of power and influ­ence is stark.

At the same time, the meat industry has worked hard to turn the pub­lic off of meat altern­at­ives and plant­based eat­ing. Early 2020 dis­in­form­a­tion cam­paigns por­tray­ing plant­based and cul­tiv­ated meats as “ultrapro­cessed,” “unnat­ural” and “syn­thetic,” planted seeds that would grow and align neatly with nar­rat­ives pushed today by fig­ures like Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and the Make Amer­ica Healthy Again move­ment. That mes­saging is that animal meat is inher­ently “nat­ural,” whole­some and healthy.

This has grown into full cul­ture­war rhet­oric, with online “meat­flu­en­cers” — some fun­ded and trained by the meat industry — por­tray­ing plant­based diets as left­ist, elit­ist, rad­ical and “woke,” while pro­mot­ing meat­heavy diets as not only healthy, but an act of defi­ance, strength and even pat­ri­ot­ism.

But cast­ing doubt on altern­at­ives is only part of the strategy; the other is a full­scale effort to gre­en­wash meat itself. Through massive mar­ket­ing budgets and fun­ded research, meat pro­du­cers have pro­moted ideas like “regen­er­at­ive” or “cli­mate­friendly” meat — claims that are increas­ingly dis­puted by cli­mate sci­ent­ists. This year, mega meat pro­du­cers JBS and Tyson were both forced to reckon with mis­lead­ing cli­mate claims, with JBS pay­ing a $1.1­mil­lion (U.S.) set­tle­ment over its “net­zero” mar­ket­ing and Tyson remov­ing “cli­mate­smart” labels from its beef fol­low­ing legal and reg­u­lat­ory pres­sure. Regard­less of whether meat is regen­er­at­ive, pas­ture­raised or grass­fed, its pro­duc­tion can­not magic­ally or mean­ing­fully off­set emis­sions pro­duced by large­scale animal farm­ing.

The res­ult of all of this man­oeuv­ring is not a nat­ural mar­ket cor­rec­tion, but a nar­rat­ive care­fully shaped to pro­tect an industry whose busi­ness model depends on keep­ing meat at the centre of our tables, no mat­ter the cost to health, anim­als or the cli­mate. This Veganu­ary, don’t con­fuse man­u­fac­tured back­lash with sci­entific fact. Cut­ting back our con­sump­tion of animal products was never a trend, it’s a neces­sity.

This opinion was written by Shyon Baumann and Josée Johnston, and was published in the Globe & Mail on August 23, 2025.

Relying on alternatives to address ethical concerns risks creating a moral detour that leads us away from genuine change, Shyon Baumann and Josée Johnston write

Shyon Baumann and Josée Johnston are both professors of sociology at the University of Toronto. They are co-authors, with Emily Huddart and Merin Oleschuk, of Happy Meat: The Sadness and Joy of a Paradoxical Idea.

When you last went to a restaurant, did you give the vegetarian dishes serious consideration? Despite knowing you’re “supposed to” eat less meat, did you glance at the tofu bowl, hesitate for a moment, and then choose the most tempting meaty option on the menu instead?

If so, you’re not alone. Despite growing awareness about meat’s downsides, about 95 per cent of Canadians and Americans continue to eat it regularly – a rate that’s barely changed in more than two decades. This might surprise those who’ve noticed the rise of plantbased options in restaurants and have tried the mass-manufactured meat alternatives in grocery stores. Yet consumer surveys and production and retail data tell a consistent story: Very few people have given up meat, and overall consumption levels remain steady, albeit with more chicken and less beef.

Most of us have seen troubling images of animals in factory farms or read articles linking red meat to cancer and cardiovascular disease. Environmental reports have highlighted the meat industry’s role in producing greenhouse gases. Economic factors, like the trade wars initiated by the Trump administration, have introduced inefficiencies into agriculture systems and are pushing meat prices higher. Perhaps cost will be the factor that significantly shifts our eating habits?

We’re doubtful. Our research into meat consumption suggests that for many people, meat is simply assumed. It’s the default. A meal feels incomplete without it. Not everyone eats all types of meat, but most people have a favourite dish they’re reluctant to give up. Despite growing conversations about the benefits of reducing meat, most of us still find ourselves ordering the chicken sandwich over the veggie wrap when lunch rolls around. Even some of the world’s best chefs have had trouble making enough people happy with meatless meals. Eleven Madison Park, one of the world’s top restaurants, recently announced that after a four-year absence, meat is back on the menu.

Against this backdrop, “happy meat” or “ethical meat” has emerged as a small but visible niche in the meat industry. Organic meat, with its certified animal welfare standards and organic feed requirements, is one form of this. Other certification programs, such as Certified Humane, appeal to consumers who want assurances about how animals are treated. The definition of happy meat isn’t fixed; it’s less a strict category than a cluster of feel-good associations and images. For some, it means buying from a local farmer or a butcher shop they trust. For others, it means choosing meat from animals raised cage-free with outdoor access.

Certifications play a role in happy meat, but much of the appeal lies in its reassuring, if ambiguous, promise that animals live better lives before slaughter. Some farmers describe their goal as giving their animals only “one bad day.” This framing makes the moral choice of eating animals feel more palatable. Many consumers also believe this meat is healthier, since animals aren’t kept in overcrowded barns requiring routine antibiotics and growth hormones. Some view it as better for the environment too. Cattle that graze on open pastures, for instance, are said to improve soil health, sequester carbon in the soil, and reduce dependence on feed crops like corn, which are resource-intensive to produce.

These motivations are admira

There’s a lot of appeal in the story ethical meat tells. It’s framed as good for your health, supportive of small farmers and beneficial to the planet. These comforting narratives contain partial truths, but they can obscure a harder one: Climate science makes clear that Western nations must reduce meat intake across all demographics.

ble. For many eaters, happy meat offers a way to reconcile their values with their eating habits. And yes, the market for alternatives to conventional supermarket meat has grown. But it’s still a niche space, dominated by consumers with higher levels of education and income. Likewise, the market for plant-based proteins that simulate meat remains so small that questions have been raised about the financial viability of one of the market pioneers. Meanwhile, rising food prices are making it harder for many families to afford enough protein, let alone pay a premium for the ethical kind.

This raises an important challenge. Happier meat costs significantly more to produce than its conventional counterpart. It requires more time, more land and more labour. A widespread shift from factory-farmed meat to high-welfare alternatives would require systemic changes to our economy and food infrastructure. Some consumers can afford to debate the merits of grass-fed versus organic, but others are forced to choose based on price alone.

In other words, we cannot expect ethical meat to replace industrial meat without grappling with the underlying problem of affordability and access. More broadly, imagining that heritage pork or free-range chicken can solve health issues or climate crises ignores a crucial reality: Meat is deeply embedded in our culture and economy.

Let’s be clear: Farmers who raise animals humanely and sustainably are already making a meaningful contribution. During our research, we met many who were hard-working, thoughtful, environmentally aware and deeply committed to building a better food system. Some were also acutely aware of the tension between charging fair prices for their labour and making their products accessible to people with limited means. We were impressed by their ideals and by their willingness to operate outside the norms of factory farming. We’ve also eaten some of their products and can confirm that happy meat can be delicious.

But happy meat isn’t a silver bullet. In fact, it may even complicate the picture. While debate exists over its environmental benefits, even the rosiest assessments concede that current levels of meat consumption are incompatible with climate goals. That’s the deeper issue: Happy meat doesn’t ask us to eat less meat. Instead, it offers a way to feel virtuous, or at least less guilty, while keeping consumption steady. It frames an enormously complicated, systemic global problem as something that can be solved through better consumer choices. That’s an appealing narrative, but it’s unlikely to deliver the scale of change we need.

There’s a lot of appeal in the story ethical meat tells. It’s framed as good for your health, supportive of small farmers and beneficial to the planet. These comforting narratives contain partial truths, but they can obscure a harder one: Climate science makes clear that Western nations must reduce meat intake across all demographics. The more we rely on happy meat to address ethical concerns, the more we risk creating a moral detour that leads us away from genuine change.

The real issue isn’t whether happy meat is good or bad. It’s whether focusing on animal happiness lets us sidestep the harder question of how much meat we eat. The assumption that we can fix the meat system without reducing demand – that’s the red herring.

To be sure, ethical animal husbandry has a critical role to play in sustainable food systems, and there is much to admire in it. And we would not argue that everyone needs to become a vegan. But we must challenge the norm that treats meat as the default, expected at every meal and in generous portions, and instead, eat better meat, and less of it.

This article was written by Emily Chung and was published by CBC News on January 30, 2025.

It’s the last week of Veganuary, a U.K.-based challenge to eat vegan for the month of January.

Most of us know that eating less meat and more plants is good for your health and can cut food-related emissions, which make up about a third of the greenhouse gases causing climate change.

For many of us, going fully vegan would be a huge change.

But research shows that even relatively small substitutions of red meat with plant-based proteins such as tofu, beans and lentils can add months or even a full year to our expected lifespans and make a noticeable dent in our carbon footprint.

Just 7.1 per cent of Canadians were vegetarian and 2.3 per cent were vegan in 2018.

On average, Canadians get 65 per cent of their protein from animal sources, says Olivia Auclair, a research fellow at the University of Oxford, who did research on Canadians’ eating habits during her recent PhD studies at McGill University in Montreal.

Only five per cent of Canadians’ protein comes from high-protein plant-based sources listed as examples of proteins in Canada’s Food Guide.

Eating habits — along with shopping and cooking habits — are hard to change. So Auclair thought about how people could get more in line with Canada’s Food Guide released in 2019, which recommends lots of fruits, vegetables and whole grains, along with protein from both animal and plant sources. 

“We have to make these … recommendations at least feasible for people to implement in their everyday lives,” Auclair said.

She and her colleagues looked at what 13,600 Canadians ate, based on Statistics Canada data from “food diaries” recorded by those people in 2015. She then modelled what would happen if those people substituted 25 to 50 per cent of the red and processed meat they were already consuming with plant-based proteins, but didn’t change their poultry, fish or seafood intake, since beef has the highest environmental impact.

The study, published last year in Nature Food, found that replacing half their red and processed meat would increase people’s life expectancy an average of nine months, while cutting their diet-related carbon footprint by 25 per cent.

“We really saw co-benefits of our replacements across all three dimensions: nutrition, health and environment,” Auclair said.

The health benefits were almost double for men compared to women — men stood to gain a full year of increased life expectancy, on average. That’s largely because men eat more red and processed meats. The climate benefits were also higher for men cutting back on meat.

While Auclair’s study relied on modelling, real-life examples show similar impacts.

In 2019, an international group of scientists recommended a planetary health diet — a plant-based diet rich in fruits, vegetables, legumes, nuts and whole grains, with small amounts of meat, dairy and fish, similar to what is recommended by the Canada Food Guide. It predicted that switching to this diet would prevent 11 million deaths per year and help keep greenhouse gas emissions from food in line with climate targets. (Although the world would also need to reduce food waste and improve food production.)

A study last year of 200,000 U.S. health-care workers found that eating a diet similar to the planetary health diet reduced a person’s risk of dying by 30 per cent, from causes ranging from heart disease to cancer to respiratory diseases, compared to those with more meat-based diets. 

A 2021 Swedish study similarly found a 25 per cent drop in mortality for those adhering to the planetary health diet.

— Emily Chung

This article was written by Jessica Scott-Reid and was published in the Toronto Star on January 6, 2025.

After plant-based meat alternatives hit the mainstream a few years back and movements like Veganuary (going vegan for January) gained momentum, you may have since heard that plant proteins are not actually that good for you.

You may have also heard in the last year that ecologically damaging animal farming, if done “right,” can actually be beneficial for the climate. You might not know where you heard these things, but it’s very unlikely that you heard it from a doctor or scientist.

That’s because the growing promeat narrative, steeped in misinformation, is rooted not in fact but in industry influence. As we move into 2025, don’t be fooled by the corporate rhetoric; Veganuary and plant proteins are still very much on the table.

The year 2024 saw a surge in marketing touting beef — the highest emitting meat — as somehow regenerative or carbon neutral. “It’s not the cow, it’s the how,” the popular saying goes. And it was a convenient idea to believe — and to sell.

As a result, the regenerative buzzword has been co-opted by industry. A 2024 study by the New Climate Institute revealed that 24 of the world’s top 30 food and beverage companies, including Cargill and Danone, have incorporated “regenerative agriculture” into their consumer messaging.

This comes after meat giant Tyson Foods launched its own “climate friendly” brand, Brazen Beef, in 2023, which promised a 10 per cent reduction in emissions. Critics, though, including New York University environmental scientist Matthew Hayek, quickly pointed out a lack of clear data to support the claim. Tyson has subsequently been sued for misleading marketing.

Ultimately, science shows that raising cattle on pasture actually emits more greenhouse gases. The method is also wildly unscalable at current rates of meat consumption due to massive land requirements.

No matter how industry spins it, animal agriculture is still a leading cause of climate change, emitting 14 to 20 per cent of global greenhouse gasses, and contributing extensively to deforestation, ocean degradation, water pollution and biodiversity loss. Opting for a plant-based diet, on the other hand, can cut our individual carbon footprint by 75 per cent, and our water footprint by about half.

But aren’t those plant-based meat alternatives unhealthy and ultra processed? According to industry backed public relations campaigns they are. But what does the science say? The nutritional profile of various plant-based meat alternatives can vary. Some are made with healthy whole foods like beans, and others with processed plant proteins and more sodium. But as Matthew Nagra, a Vancouver-based naturopathic doctor and researcher told the Star last year, “because something is called an ultra processed food, that doesn’t mean that it’s necessarily harmful.”

He points to protein powders and fortified plant milks as examples of foods considered ultra processed but also nutritionally beneficial. What’s more important, Nagra says, is the impact foods have on the body. And in the case of plant-based meats, he explains, “we see lower cholesterol, lower body weight or waist circumference in some cases, and we don’t see negative impacts on things like blood pressure.”

Nagra is the co-author of a 2024 review published in the Canadian Journal of Cardiology that found when animal-based meats are replaced with plant-based alternatives, key risk factors for heart disease, such as LDL cholesterol levels and body weight, showed noticeable improvement.

But a plant-based diet need not even include meat alternatives. Whole foods such as beans, lentils, tofu, nuts, seeds and whole grains all contain protein, along with heart and gut healthy fibre, and without harmful saturated fats and cancercausing nitrates found in many animal meats.

In 2024, the meat, dairy and egg industries worked hard to manipulate messaging around their products, and about their plant-based competitors. But while industry marketing machines push misleading narratives, the science remains clear. And whether it’s a veggie burger or a bowl of lentils, the power is still on our plate.