I became vegetarian because of climate change.

It was summer 2019. My typical grocery store run would consist mostly of vegetables and meat. I’d buy ground turkey, sausage patties, chicken breast, and turkey bacon, all in the same run, and eat all of it too. I think I’d read some article about increasing protein in your diet and how it helps with gains at the gym.

Then, I listened to a podcast that described the consequences if we continue on our current emissions trajectory. I had visions of my grandchildren clinging to subsistence in northern Alaska, everything south of them reduced to a desert similar to the Sahara. I’m not sure what it was about this particular podcast, or my headspace at the time, but I freaked out. I started driving less, flying less, and cut down on the meat in my diet. I didn’t cut it out entirely, but I went from three or four meat products with each grocery run to maybe one.

Cutting meat out of your diet can reduce your personal carbon footprint (more on this term and how problematic it is in a bit). One of the major reasons animal agriculture is so bad for the environment is that grazing land often replaces forest or jungle, which are much better at absorbing carbon from the air. The number one cause of deforestation in the Amazon is the expansion of cattle ranching, largely driven by demand in the US and other nations. Animal agriculture consumes massive amounts of water and other resources, and we have to plant crops that supply the feedstock for those animals, too. (Check out my first post to read about the ways agriculture and artificial fertilizers contribute to climate change). Some studies suggest that switching to a vegan diet can reduce your personal carbon emissions by up to 75%.

But anyway, back to me. In the late summer and fall of 2019 I started cooking more vegetable-forward meals, learning how to substitute for meat or cook without it when I had to. I enjoyed the constraints this placed on me in the kitchen, and one of my all-time favorite recipes (my famous Eggplant Bolognese) came out of this period of culinary experimentation. I still usually ordered meat when I went to restaurants or traveled, but at home, where I had the most control over my diet, I dialed back the meat consumption.

In December 2019, I was accepted into an MBA program at Babson College, something I’d been working towards for a long time. I celebrated and indulged that holiday season, so much so that I decided to take a month-long break from meat, alcohol, and caffeine in January 2020. My sleeping improved, I saw major progress at the gym, and my skin cleared up a bit too. Then, a funny thing happened in March 2020. Like countless other people around the globe, I was stuck inside as the Covid-19 pandemic ran out of control. I stopped shopping for groceries in person, and started ordering online. By this point, my meat-free month had stretched a little longer, and I decided to keep it going. (Meanwhile my abstention from alcohol did not last very long in lockdown).

That was sort of how I did things for the rest of 2020. “I’ve already stayed vegetarian for three months, what if I go another three?” Soon it was the fall, I was starting my MBA program at Babson, and the anniversary of switching to a vegetarian diet was not that far away. Starting at Babson was very helpful, too. Many of my friends came from India and were lifelong vegetarians themselves. In those pre-vaccine days, we socialized in small dinner parties, and I always had fellow vegetarians to coordinate meals with.

You might be thinking “Connor, your decision to avoid meat a few years ago can’t possibly have an impact on global climate change” and you’d be right. I’m not under any illusions that I’m saving the planet by forgoing a cheeseburger. Avoiding meat is a way for me to feel like I have some control over something that is vastly outside my own control. It’s a stress and anxiety management strategy. Sometimes when I’m eating in group settings, friends will apologize for eating meat. I’m not one of those people who looks down on others due to their diets. Personally, I think it’s nearly impossible to beat a cheeseburger. I just choose not to eat them anymore. Vegetarianism is a personal choice in response to a deeply institutional problem.

I said earlier that I’d address the term “carbon footprint.” BP popularized the term “carbon footprint” in the early 2000s, hoping to shift blame for climate change from institutions (like fossil fuel companies) to individuals. To be clear, even if I had the most amazing diet in the world, climate change is the direct result of a small handful of companies making selfish decisions. The executives and their shareholders get the benefits, and the world gets the pollution, environmental destruction, and all the other negative externalities associated with climate change. It’s a frame that is designed to make you feel bad that you aren’t doing more, and leave you too despondent to actually make change.

My vegetarianism isn’t saving the world, I don’t think everyone needs to be vegetarian, and I’m actually a huge fan of meat (I just don’t eat it). I enjoy the self-discipline vegetarianism brings. I’ve become a better cook, trying new recipes and combinations in the kitchen, because creativity thrives on constraints. If you want to explore a more plant-forward diet, I wholeheartedly encourage you. If you think it would be too difficult, I assure you, you can do it. I think there’s an unhelpful strain of thinking that says if your actions can’t solve the whole problem, then they aren’t worth doing. But we still beat on, boats against the current. If you want to stick to a carnivore diet, I want to learn how you’re seasoning your steaks, and how they turn out. I’m a nerd about food, and I don’t see that changing any time soon, regardless of what my diet looks like.

This article is also published on the author's blog. illuminem Voices is a democratic space presenting the thoughts and opinions of leading Sustainability & Energy writers, their opinions do not necessarily represent those of illuminem.