Flexitarianism & Food Identity
This article errs toward opinion and social commentary rather than one based on academically sourced material. It is more of a reflection of our food systems and how we engage with each other as a society, rather than strictly informational. We hope you’ll still enjoy reading and give us feedback about what you think, how this and other articles might be improved, and share any additional resources you have with us.
We recently received a question about “flexitarianism”—what is it, and why do we even care?! We couldn’t help but relate to a sense of curiosity about the rise of this seemingly fluid and all-encompassing food identity. As we wandered down this path, we found ourselves wondering how our identitifying with different diets affects the appeal of sustainable eating. How does our current dialogue, heavy with diet-as-identity, effect who is interested in making more sustainable eating choices, and how can words like “flexitarian” help us find our middle ground?
Ramen from 5th Street Market Ramen in Eugene, Oregon. A fun treat for this flexitarian.
As someone who grew up in a pretty “crunchy” neighborhood in Portland, Oregon, vegetarianism was commonplace to me, and even as an elementary school child I could name which friends were pescetarian in the school cafeteria. Unlike folks in other parts of the country, I grew up around a lot of people who restricted their diets out of choice rather than necessity. At the time, this idea of food-as-identity was reserved for “hippies” and not considered mainstream. But the past decade has seen major cultural shifts around diet, especially in the US, as our understanding of the role that food plays in climate change, ecological sustainability and our health, diets like vegetarianism and veganism are increasingly brought into the mainstream.
While vegetarianism and veganism have strict definitions, a certain diet and lifestyle category called “flexitarianism” has become commonplace. According to food trends and marketing groups, people who identify as a “flexitarian” make up almost a third of the market. “Flexitarian” was named the “most useful” word of 2003, and its use has continued to rise as plant-based foods and eating more sustainably have become trendier. In 2013, Mark Bittman published a series of articles about food and our relationship to food in a column called “The Flexitarian.” The pieces are great and we recommend you check them out by following this link. By definition, flexitarian is “a person who has a primarily vegetarian diet but occasionally eats meat or fish”—a combination of “flexible” and “vegetarian.”
Ooof, I find that definition relatable. When I first started learning about the impacts of meat production on the environment, I couldn’t help but try to cut animal products out of my life. Once I got started, it was easy to find other meals to eat. I found it fun to look for ways to make nutrient-dense, protein-heavy meals with plant-based foods I loved. Sometimes though, my will would be tested. I’d be at a restaurant and they’d have some locally caught fish that just sounded too good to be true. One time in college a favorite professor invited me over for dinner and served me a pulled pork sandwich, and I ate it. It was delicious. “Flexitarianism” really started to make sense to me. I identified with wanting to make more sustainable food choices, but still appreciated meat and fish that were grown sustainably. It especially made sense to me when I was enjoying a meal that was more about coming together and sharing a meal with people I loved and respected, than about my food preferences.
At first glance, flexitarianism can seem like a cop-out of vegetarianism for those unwilling to stick to a strict vegetarian or vegan diet. For those who feel the full weight of climate change, encouraging small changes like Meatless-Mondays might not seem urgent enough. I have often had these feelings while taking a bite of a burger when I’m home with family. I can feel inferior to those who are more “diligent” than me, and who are more adamant about trying to get those around them to change.
On the other hand, a flexible mindset as we begin to reduce our reliance on meat as a sole protein source can be important in our journey toward more sustainable eating. For many, especially in western countries, meat is a central part of their diet and notion of a balanced meal. Meat represents progress, wealth, and better health for their children. Expecting everyone around the globe to drop all animal products for the sake of climate change is simply unreasonable, and creating ways for slow but steady change is likely more productive. To me, flexitarianism just seems like a way to make eating sustainably a priority, without sticking to strict rules, while still leaving space for culture, affordability, and agency.
Flexitarianism also leaves space for the consumption of ethically raised and sustainably caught animals. This maintains traditional methods of raising food, farmer livelihoods, and resilient food systems. Completely getting rid of all animal production can be problematic for farming communities, and animals can be an important part of sustainable circular systems. Flexitarianism means that people can opt out of eating factory farmed meat and seafood, but opt in to supporting local, sustainable operations when they wish to. By supporting sustainable operations that produce a diverse product mix, like animal products, we can support a more resilient food system as a whole.
But after all this talk of definitions, one has to wonder, why are we so obsessed with self-identifying with a diet in the first place? What is it about food and the way we eat that is so central to our lives that it becomes a major part of how we see and are seen by the world?
We all know that food is core to our health and well-being, so food is extremely personal. That’s a simple place to start with these food identity questions. But I like to look to the vegan community as a group that is both notorious for using diet as identity, but also extremely close-knit and resilient. If you take a dive into the world of vegan social media influencers, you’ll find a community of people who are extremely passionate about what they put in their bodies. They all come at veganism from different perspectives—health, animal rights, sustainability—but most are so invested in identifying with the food that they eat that they’ll often put it in their profile descriptions as one of the main things they identify with as a person. I believe veganism is something that people put as a core part of their identity because to vegans, the way they eat is often about a lot more than just food. Most vegans feel their food choices come out of a deep respect for the environment, animal life, or overall health and wellness. It is also a diet that takes extreme vigilance and dedication in our current food landscape. Veganism is seen as a shared value system for those who dedicate themselves to it.
Flexitarianism is a way of integrating similar ideals around food and the environment, but with a broader lens on food systems and wellness. I think it’s really important to consider as a diet-identity because it leaves more room for interpretation and discussion than some other labels like veganism or even “locavore.” While I really respect the choices of vegans, there are large groups of vegans that rely on food that travels great distances and is months out of season in their region. Or locavores who eat greenhouse grown tomatoes in the depths of winter that require huge amounts of energy to produce. Sometimes, people find themselves far from home and want to eat a cultural dish using ingredients that traveled around the globe. That meal might have a large carbon footprint, but its impact on mental health and wellbeing for that person may be massive and completely worth it for them. There simply is no way to eat perfectly, and there is so much more to be considered when talking about food than just numbers.
Any discussion of labels, including in the food world, can lead to assumptions and bias. Fundamentally no one has the right to act superior to anyone else based on the diet they eat. The hyper masculine identity that is associated with excessive meat consumption can lead to poor personal and planetary health. A hyperfocus on wellness and ethics in the vegan community can lead to a superiority complex when interacting with non-vegans. This is not to pick on big meat eaters or vegans, but rather to showcase how both ends of the food-as-identity spectrum—and anywhere in between—can lead to food being diversionary rather than bringing people together. Any extremely close ties between what we eat and identity can lead to negative and exclusionary dialogues. Food is something that is supposed to bring people together rather than push us apart. How can we use food to focus on sharing our values rather than engaging in exclusionary behaviors?
This is especially important when we consider issues of food access tied with these identities. For those that don’t have the money or access to certain foods that they want to eat, a lack of agency over what they eat can lead to increased feelings of guilt, isolation and unworthiness. While it is important to encourage everyone to make decisions with their fork that reflects their values (something we’re obviously encouraging on Grounded Grub), it is important to keep judgement and bias out of how we look at other people’s eating. Rather than judging those who don’t eat like you, lean in and figure out why they make the choices they do. How can we create a system where everyone’s food-identity can be supported, within a sustainable framework for the future?
Did you like this article? Check out similar work by Hannah in her piece on Unpairing Sustainability from Diet Culture.
