Using Social Networking Services to Advocate: Part I

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This week, in a small Facebook group that I manage, I asked a straightforward question.  The first person to respond misread my post and answered the question she thought I was asking rather than the one I had actually asked. Another commenter followed suit, so I edited the question, changing the wording, and even adding caps and asterisks for emphasis. Fifteen comments later, all but one participant in the conversation followed the lead of the first or subsequent misreaders. I was amused, but my question remained mostly unaddressed, and the comment thread cemented my view that, even when used for very basic communication, online interaction can be eminently unreliable.

Social networking services allow us to communicate instantly, widely, and powerfully. With so many different abolitionist vegan voices to inspire us or support us, with the potential to reach a wide audience, and with the backing of a community of like-minded people who are constantly connected it can facilitate particularly effective advocacy (I’ll discuss this in further detail in the next post).

But where much of our communication in face-to-face encounters is aided by nonverbal communication (tone, pitch, intonation, volume and speed of voice, gestures, proximity, facial expressions and even touch) all of this is lost from online interactions and this makes the transmission and reception of a message unreliable and potentially problematic. Messages spread rapidly, words stay around longer to be analysed, re-analysed, overanalysed. Our interactions lack the complexity and forgiveness of face-to-face encounters. We construct personae: versions of ourselves that can’t be probed by those without access to our nonverbal idiom, and we form images of our interlocutors based solely upon their words. Social networking services also create intensely competitive environments, with likes, comments and re-shares often connected to our sense of self-worth. We scan and glance rather than considering and engaging, participating in several conversations at once and not giving any the kind of attention that we would invest in an offline interaction.

Sometimes it feels like we’re shouting over walls at each other, our ideas being carried away on the wind and resulting in misunderstandings, impatience, hostility, disillusionment. We write an advocacy post and it gets no response, so it seems as though our efforts have been in vain (although we can never account for the impact of a post that seems to us as though it is invisible to others). Misreadings are interpreted as a wilful failure to engage. Assumptions are made about our interlocutor’s knowledge and experience, and frustration often results on both sides. Utterances become our primary focus, and we lose sight of the person who articulated them.

At other times we become attuned to the negativity of these kinds of interactions and become less conscious of the progress that we’re making and the community that we’re fostering: the moments of kindness and generosity, the teamwork, the expansion of our networks, the possibility of engaging in transformational pedagogic experiences–learning from others and teaching them in return. Online social networking is one of the greatest tools at our disposal in its ability to amplify our message, yet it is this amplification that can make it seem so diffused, illimitable, impersonal.  To counter these problems, I offer the following suggestions:

  • Stay away from those areas of online social networks that you find toxic or unproductive, and focus your energy on places where you can make a difference.
  • Remember that the people with whom you will be holding discussions are probably as passionate about the issues as you. Respect them and their views, and engage with these views, where appropriate, rather than dismissing out of hand.
  • Take time to pause before responding to anything contentious: walk away from the computer, engage with the ‘real world’ for a while, evaluate whether a response would be useful, and, if so, construct one that is as clear as possible.
  • Ensure that you understand the meaning of that to which you’re responding. Ask questions, summarise, and, before responding to the point being made, attempt to elicit the kind of clarity that would otherwise be aided by nonverbal communication in a face-to-face encounter.
  • Don’t interpret lack of knowledge as wilful ignorance. Err on the side of generosity with your interlocutor, and always be prepared to educate and be educated.
  • Interrogate attitudes rather than making assumptions about the person uttering them. If your initial feeling is right, then at least you have a more solid foundation on which to progress with the discussion.
  • Recognise the educational value of dialogue, but know when to step away.
  • Remember that abolitionist vegans aren’t homogenous: we all have different life experiences, attitudes, expectations, skills, abilities to process new information. If we see our interlocutors as projections of ourselves (with similar backgrounds, abilities, preconceptions, beliefs, understanding), we will never progress with any discussion.
  • Treat all online discourse as though it’s public and permanently visible, but be cognisant that others may not have the same realisation when posting, so respect the assumptions they may have about the visibility of their posts.
  • Be aware that because our sense of self-worth is often tied to metrics in social networking, it can be useful to take important conversations to private message rather than continuing them in a public forum where people (including you) might be less inclined to concede. Before doing so, make sure that you have the express approval, on the thread, of your interlocutor, to avoid this technique being misconstrued as a personal attack.
  • Most importantly, try to connect with abolitionist vegans offline to create a more personalised network of support. If this is not possible, use face-to-face social networking tools, or at least a telephone, to create more reliable bonds with those to whom you feel a particular connection.

Communicating by online social media will inevitably present us with challenges, but it will also help to foster friendships and a sense of belonging. Manage all interactions as you would offline, but be cognisant of the differences between the two forms. To prevent frustration and disillusionment, build several independent networks of support and try to meet fellow abolitionist vegans offline too.

Building Rapport


If you’ve been following this blog over the past few weeks and putting its suggestions into practice, you’ll have been using the word ‘vegan’ liberally. You’ve also have opened up some conversations and started to get people to think about how we use animals and why that’s wrong. You’re equipped with a copy of Eat Like You Care to give you a template of how you might map out your discussions with nonvegans, engaging their moral concern and moral impulse, and using logic and rationality to lead them to veganism (see here for a superb analysis on the role of justice and empathy in making moral decisions). But there are many other tricks that will help you to advocate effectively, and I’ll reveal a few of my favourites over the next few weeks.

The topic for this week’s post is how to get your interlocutor on side by creating rapport—essential for establishing points of concurrence and creating a positive and fruitful advocacy experience.

In order to persuade, we must establish some areas of accord with those to whom we are speaking. Kenneth Burke writes that

As for the relation between ‘identification’ and ‘persuasion’: we might well keep it in mind that a speaker persuades an audience by the use of stylistic identifications: his act of persuasion may be for the purpose of causing the audience to identify itself with the speaker’s interests: and the speaker draws on identification of interests to establish rapport between himself and his audience” (A Rhetoric of Motives, 1034).

Creating rapport cannot be underestimated in advocacy. You’re more likely to be able to convince if your interlocutor’s contribution to the conversation is valued, and if you share at least some similar views and attitudes. To build rapport, use humour where appropriate (not directed towards the injustices you’re trying to address, of course); ask questions to get to know something of the attitudes and beliefs of the person to whom you’re speaking; listen and pay attention; be patient. Think about shared experiences, similar perspectives, points on which you will already agree. Use these as the foundation of your advocacy, and return to them when areas of disagreement look as though they might become divisive. The following paragraphs will suggest ways in which you may build rapport.

Nonverbal communication
Much has been written about how we can use nonverbal communication to aid persuasion. Useful techniques include using open body language (not crossing arms or legs), holding eye-contact, matching the speed and volume of your interlocutor’s voice, etc., and I won’t reiterate all of that here. All of the writing on body language makes assumptions about ability, and tend to presume a traditionally-abled audience. Remember that each of us communicates (both verbally and nonverbally in different ways), and so you should only use techniques that appeal, if they are appropriate to you, and not stifle your own personality or natural gestures in doing so. Don’t be too preoccupied with body language to the detriment of your message or your focus (controlling body language uses a lot of mental energy, and too much control may make you seem insincere), but you can try the following techniques:

  • Keep your arms unfolded and your hands visible to create a sense of openness and trustworthiness.
  • Sit or stand tall to reinforce your confidence and authority.
  • Don’t fidget; try to be still and not reveal any anxiety.
  • Mirror the body language of the person to whom you’re speaking in order to create a sense of commonality: lean forward when your interlocutor leans forward. Be subtle and sparing in your use of this technique: mirror repositions rather than small gestures, and give your interlocutor a few seconds to settle into position before you mirror.
  • Try as hard as you can to avoid pause fillers (‘um’, ‘er’, ‘like’), which can make you sound uncertain and invalidate your authority.
  • Listen to words that tend to be repeated by your interlocutor, and you will be able to garner a sense of their main concerns, attitudes or assumptions. You can repeat these words later in the conversation to address concerns, question attitudes further, or challenge assumptions.

Choosing pronouns: ‘you’ versus ‘we’
The pronoun ‘you’ should be handled with caution in advocacy when talking about our unjust treatment of animals. It sounds accusatory, it estranges, and it undermines rapport. Your interlocutor may feel judged, alienated and attacked, and all of these will be detrimental to advocacy. When talking about our use of animals, the pronoun ‘we’ points out beyond the conversation to a larger system, and it is this system that you want the interlocutor to reject. ‘We’ also helps to create an unconscious bond that will allow you to persuade more easily when the conversation turns to examining solutions to the problem.

Asking questions
Because questions mostly require responses, they create a sense of dialogue and will allow your interlocutor to participate more fully and openly in the conversation. We’ll be looking at this in a lot more detail in a future blog post, but here are some useful ways to use questioning to build rapport:

  • Open the conversation with some tag questions to which an affirmative response is inevitable: ‘it’s busy here today, isn’t it?’; ‘it’s cold today, isn’t it?’. Although the research on the effectiveness of using such questions to create rapport doesn’t suggest that the impact of these will be overwhelmingly powerful, they will at least establish some points of agreement between you and the interlocutor.
  • Open questions (those requiring longer answers, usually beginning with interrogative pronouns such as ‘who’, ‘how’, ‘what’, etc.) are useful for eliciting moral concern. Asking about beloved companion animals is particularly useful in this regard; make sure that you listen and allow the interlocutor to respond at length. If that response is somewhat reticent, ask further open questions to try to draw the conversation out. Attempt to enable your interlocutor to think about what sets that companion animal apart from others in terms of behaviour, preferences, interests, and so on. This will help to reinforce the idea in your interlocutor’s mind that animals are persons, and you can later relate the injustice of our use of other animals back to this part of the conversation by persuading your interlocutor to think of ‘other animals’ in terms of this companion (use the companion’s name to personalise it even more).
  • Use closed questions to establish shared moral concern and moral impulse. If you’ve read Eat Like You Care, you’ll have seen that its argument is based on shared moral principles. You can use closed questions to seek agreement on these principles, and if you phrase them in such a way that a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer is the only possible response, then you have established a firm foundation on which you can build quite rapidly and effectively to convince your interlocutor to adopt the moral standpoint that is veganism.
  • Third-person questions can be useful in allowing your speaker to see the moral problems that you want them to reject in an objective way. Instead of asking people about their attitude to their participation in animal use, you can preserve rapport by asking them to think about the attitudes of other people. This helps to embed your use of the pronoun ‘we’ and creates a sense of common ground between you and the speaker, while othering the concepts and behaviour that you are seeking to change.
  • Socratic questioning will be useful when you move from eliciting attitudes to animal use to trying to convince your interlocutor to adopting veganism. They can help your interlocutor to clarify a position (‘Why do you think that?’, ‘Are you saying x or y?’, ‘Can you give me an example?’), to investigate assumptions and viewpoints (‘Do you agree that…?’), to consider rationale (‘Are these reasons good enough?’, ‘What do you think causes us to…?’). Such questions help to uncover potential objections that may then be addressed.

Encouragement and reinforcement
Be positive about the positives, and redirect the negatives. Instead of explicitly pointing out where your interlocutor is wrong, probe the response with further questions, reinforce the answers with which you agree, and reframe the undesirable response in relation to these areas of commonality. In the near future, we’ll discuss scaffolding techniques that will help you find points on which you concur. Stay calm and assertive (rather than frustrated or aggressive) if you reach an impasse, and know when to close the conversation by reinforcing any consensus that you have uncovered. This will help to water the ground for the planted seed, leave the interlocutor thinking about points of agreement with principles of animal rights issues as the conversation draws to a close or moves on, and allow you to reflect on how to move the conversation forward from these shared principles should you choose to do so in future.

These techniques will help to make your interlocutor more responsive and receptive to your message, but they will also leave you with a more positive impression of advocacy and encourage you to do more.

My interest in, and confidence about, advocacy is largely down to one particularly effective advocate, so it seems fitting to close this post with his words:

1. Every conversation is different, there is no ‘one size fits all’ advocacy situation. It’s the skill of the advocate which makes the most of each one.
2. The best way to get someone to agree with a new idea is to get them to believe they actually thought of it!

Opening Doors


Quite a while ago, a woman called to my house seeking donations for a dog shelter. She told me some stories about how badly companion animals are treated, and then she said sadly of the ‘carers’ who exploit, abuse or abandon them, ‘they claim to love them, but they treat them like they’re just things.’

I’d never been particularly confident about face-to-face advocacy, and had never attempted to start such a conversation with a stranger before, but I felt a compulsion to lead this discussion to veganism. I knew that if our meeting ended without me trying to make her see the connection between the dogs by whose stories she felt so moved and the animals that we use for food, clothing, entertainment, etc., I’d be weighed down by guilt and regret. So, I took a deep breath and pushed through the fear.

Since then, I’ve had the opportunity to talk to quite a few strangers about veganism face-to-face (not all of these conversations have been as immediately or patently successful, but that’s for another post), I look back on this one as the easiest. The reason for that is simple: I was pushing at an open door. It was this woman’s concern for nonhumans (albeit of one species) that led her to my house, and the only ‘work’ I had to do was to help her extend that sense of duty to all other nonhumans.

In fact, many of my experiences of advocacy with strangers have followed a similar pattern: conversations about beloved companion animals or animals who have been mistreated lead on to discussions about all sentient nonhumans. But what makes this kind of advocacy a lot easier than it initially appears is that most people enjoy talking about particular species of nonhumans, and once that conversation has begun, it can flow very naturally towards a discussion of their rights.

Gary Francione analyses what makes this kind of advocacy effective here:

As long as there is moral concern and the moral impulse to want to do the right thing by animals, we can use rationality to demonstrate why this moral concern should extend to all animals and why abolition and veganism are the logically appropriate responses to the felt recognition,whatever its source, that animals are members of the moral community.

But in the absence of wanting to do the right thing, it will make no sense to discuss what logic identifies as the right thing to do.

So, raising moral concern is essential to effective advocacy, but it is not the only prerequisite. Only a rational demonstration of how veganism is the logical response to that experience of moral concern will lead to the conclusion for which you hope (if you don’t already own a copy of Francione’s and Charlton’s Eat Like You Care, add it to your library immediately; it’s a useful primer on the kind of content that our advocacy should involve, and it provides unassailable responses to all of the objections that you might encounter).

One important thing to remember, though, is that you will not be able to lead everyone you meet to veganism, and it would be discouraging for you if you were to expect all of your advocacy efforts to do so. But no exchange that explains, unequivocally, the rights of nonhumans not to be treated as resources can ever be a wasted one. At the very least, you will expose someone to an idea or a perspective that they hadn’t considered before, and we can never tell what kinds of cognitive processes these ideas can put in motion.

With people you meet regularly, your approach can (and perhaps should) be a very different one. Chances are that they will already know that you’re vegan, and conversations around that topic might happen in a fitful and fragmented way, and from other starting points. Again, don’t expect immediate results (in the near future we’ll examine some pedagogic research to see how conceptual change takes place and how we can best effect it), but know that every conversation you have, if you are informed and unambiguous, will either correct people’s misconceptions about veganism, make them rethink our relationship with nonhumans, or help them to understand the foundation of your ethical standpoint.

It may take some time for people to be persuaded. Don’t get angry or frustrated, and remind yourself that you’re not responsible for the moral decisions of your loved ones. Advocate calmly, and without impatience, frustration or anger, and don’t be afraid to step back from discussions to allow the other person time to process what you’ve explored together. Treat every question as though it’s a genuine request for further information, but don’t allow the conversation to be derailed away from the fact that we don’t need to use animals in order to live healthy and happy lives, and are therefore unjustified in treating them as resources. We’ll have a guest post soon on ways in which conversations can get derailed and how to deal with this.

There are opportunities for advocacy everywhere, and they don’t have to be forced. If you’ve been liberally using the word ‘vegan’ (as I recommended last week) you’ll have noticed that some people respond with curiosity. Use those opportunities to elicit the moral concern they already have for some nonhumans, and attempt to show them that this concern leads them to veganism. Remember that the more of these kinds of conversations you have, the easier they will become. Reflect on what you’ve done well and what you’d like to do differently. Read as many abolitionist essays and books as you can lay your hands on. Talk to others about what works for them, ask for tips, and never stop learning. Most importantly, walk away from every abolitionist advocacy attempt (whatever the result) feeling positive, because as long as we’re opening up the conversation we’re making a difference.

‘Invisible’ Advocacy


Many vegans tell me that aligning their lifestyle with their ethics is only the beginning of what they feel is their responsibility to nonhumans. Yet while they often desire to advocate, some are lacking in self-confidence, others are unsure of how to deal with challenges, many are wary of confrontation or weighed down by the importance of their task. Even more discouraging than the perceived enormity of the process itself, perhaps, is the mistaken belief that advocacy is only successful if it results immediately in new vegans, and that a failed advocacy effort will entrench the interlocutor’s views permanently and unalterably.

The good news is that advocacy doesn’t have to be monumental. In fact, it doesn’t have to be very different from anything else you do on a daily basis. It doesn’t have to be performative or dramatic. It doesn’t have to involve a prepared speech. It doesn’t compel you to set up a stall in the middle of a busy street and talk to strangers. It won’t necessarily result in a debate. Its success isn’t measured by the interlocutor immediately becoming vegan. Most importantly, it’s not a competition or a race, and if you advocate well and consistently, then your success may not even be capable of being measured.

There are many different forms of advocacy, and some are highly visible: tabling, the use of social media, and so on. All of these forms of advocacy are worthwhile, if they are approached with a solid theoretical foundation and with adequate preparation. Because of their visibility, they require a particular set of abilities that some people have in abundance: confidence, openness, adeptness at fielding debate. But what if I told you that you may already have the skills to advocate in a very powerful way, that you can do exactly what you do every day but help to make change happen, and that the only thing you’ll need is one word? That word is ‘vegan’. Do not underestimate its power.

You may be the kind of person who talks to cashiers in the supermarket as they’re ringing up your groceries. They look at your unusual assortment of vegetables and ask if you’ve got something special planned for dinner. You smile and say, ‘I’m vegan, so I’m making a vegetable lasagna’. You see an old friend who compliments you on something you’re wearing. You say ‘Thanks; it’s from a vegan shop’. You bring some food to a friend’s house, and you tell them it’s suitable for vegans. Anytime you use the word ‘vegan’, you’re doing some advocacy work. Write it, type it, say it, sign it; it doesn’t matter how you do it, but don’t underestimate the power of a simple word.

So, now you’re wondering how this could be of any benefit to nonhuman animals. Each time you use the word ‘vegan’ in this way, you’re normalising it; you’re removing any taboos, breaking down stereotypes, getting the word into public consciousness. Not being reticent about the word and letting people know that you are vegan is actually quite a powerful first step, and it will certainly help lay the foundation that will open up the conversation about the ethical principles, and may even steer people towards doing their own research into what being vegan means.

Grumpy Old Vegan
(Image shared with permission from Grumpy Old Vegan; the text on the image reads ‘How many seeds that we plant germinate and flourish without our knowledge? This is why vegan education is so important; tangible results never reveal the full picture of what we do.’)

There are other forms of quiet advocacy in which you can engage, like sharing recipes that are suitable for vegans to your social media site, posting pictures of your meals and treats on the same, cooking and sharing food, collaborating with others to use the talents that are unique to you (making posters for someone else’s outreach; baking cupcakes for a tabling event; proofreading the work of others). None of these things ought to be undervalued, because advocacy is not just about persuasion.

There will be benefits to you as a new advocate, too, from engaging in ‘invisible’ advocacy. Seeing that people don’t recoil in horror when you use the word ‘vegan’, and participating silently in the visible advocacy of others will probably increase your confidence and may lead you to seek out opportunities for discussion about your ethical stance, which will be the topic of the next blog post.

Why a Critical Approach to Advocacy Matters

From conception to death, their lives are planned out. When they will feed, where they will go, how they will interact with others, how often they will reproduce, whether they will mate or be inseminated, how long they will spend with their children before separation, whether their illnesses are worth treating, how they will die: all of these details are contrived. They are born for a purpose, and that purpose is to be used by others. Each one has a price on his or her head, and each one is disposable. Each one has wants, interests, preferences, desires, and we systematically deny them — not for any reasons of necessity, but simply because we believe that our transitory experience of pleasure, or our reluctance to change our habits, outweighs their most basic rights.

Vegans recognise the injustice inherent in treating nonhuman animals as resources and so abstain from animal use (in as far as is possible in a nonvegan world), and their recognition of this injustice is often marked by a desire to lead others to the same awareness.

Most vegans once participated in the system of animal exploitation that they now renounce, and this fact often makes advocacy seem all the more urgent and all the more difficult. For many vegans, the cognitive shift that allows them to perceive the unfairness of animal use appears to be a sudden one (although they may have been moving towards it gradually through an accumulation of life experiences), and they often figure that shift as ‘a switch flicking’, ‘a lightbulb moment’ or ‘taking the red pill’. To acknowledge the wrongness of what is considered ‘normal’, and to reject the habits, customs, and traditions that centre on animal use, in what is typically a very short space of time, can create a sense of impatience in the vegan advocate and result in the adoption of a range of advocacy techniques that are neither carefully considered nor particularly productive.

Many vegans promote Meatless Mondays or fixed-period trials of plant-based eating in the hope that the experience of one part of living as a vegan will bring the participant to the recognition of the moral imperative. Quite a few advertise the health benefits of plant foods or demarcate particular instances of ‘cruel’ treatment while desiring that the person to whom they’re speaking will recognise that all animal use is wrong. Some proclaim the environmental benefits of boycotting animal agriculture. Others will adopt a range of measures designed to reduce consumption with the expectation that reduced consumption will mean reduced animal use.

The problems with such tactics are numerous. First, no one comes to the knowledge of what it really means to be a vegan by dining on a Portobello mushroom burger. What is more, the kind of person who follows health plans will be inclined to try several over the course of their lives, and so may embrace the health benefits of plant foods for brief period before moving on to the next fad. Second, highlighting instances of animal suffering may result in confusion about our obligations to animals and create the mistaken impression that there is a morally acceptable way to treat them as resources; let’s be clear: there’s not. Furthermore, the advocate who promotes half-measures risks making veganism seem difficult and alien. Third, if an individual reduces consumption in some areas of his or her life, this will not drive down demand in any meaningful way. Our power as consumers is a collective one, and depends upon our unreserved and lifelong commitment to abstaining from animal use. Fourth, shifting the focus away from the enormity of the harm we cause by treating others as resources is doing no service to the victims of injustice. Fifth, we risk spreading ourselves too thin, wasting time and energy by persuading people to remove some forms of animal use for what is (without a clear moral message) probably only a short period of time. Instead, we could use that time and energy to refine our arguments and to advocate with conviction and sincerity in order to achieve what it is that we really want: an end to animal use.

Many vegans adopt these problematic approaches to advocacy because they recognise the urgency of the problem and feel that they must do something for the current victims of the system. But the current victims will not be spared from their miserable lives and dreadful deaths by any approaches that we may take; they are already here to be used, and nothing we can do will save them (even liberating one will necessitate that another will have to take his or her place). Welfare reforms are counterproductive, because they make people more comfortable with using animals, and they increase the economic efficiency of animal exploitation by increasing profits (tied to people’s moral comfort with labels of ‘humane’ use, but they also protect the extrinsic value of animals-as-property (cf. the work of Gary Francione; this essay is an excellent starting point)), and therefore result in more animals being bred for exploitation.

To obtain justice for nonhumans, the world needs more vegans. In order to create more vegans we have to take responsibility, where we can, to educate people towards veganism. We can’t trick them into becoming vegan by promoting various modes of nonveganism (whether plant-based eating, vegetarianism, reduced consumption, or boycotting particular instances or animal use). We can’t expect someone to accept that we are sincere and trustworthy advocates when we fail to promote what we practise ourselves.

We can only normalise veganism by talking about it, and the only effective method of vegan advocacy is to present a clear and simple moral position that animal exploitation is wrong. It is only through unequivocal and unapologetic advocacy that we will change the way society regards animals and end the systematic and institutionalised exploitation of all nonhumans.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll post on a range of advocacy techniques from the effective use of language to raising moral concern, from the effectiveness of shock tactics to dealing with objections and logical fallacies, from finding opportunities for advocacy to dealing with apparent failure. I hope you’ll join me.