Are we talking about a condition or a decision?

PalmaBiology classifies living beings into kingdoms. This classification is not arbitrary: it describes life forms with different metabolic and structural characteristics. From here, zoology uses terms like 'herbivore', 'carnivore', and 'omnivore' to describe dietary conditions. There is no moral judgment in these words: they only describe physiological adaptations.

A cow is herbivorous because its biology determines it. A cat is a strict carnivore because it needs nutrients that are only found in animal tissues. A brown bear is an omnivore because it can digest both plant and animal sources. There is no deliberation, no dilemma, no ideology. It is a condition.

When someone says cows are vegetarian, they are not speaking precisely. Cows are herbivores. They have not decided to be, they are so by biological condition. Cows do not choose to eat grass: simply, that is how their species has evolved.

Herbivores and carnivores

The word ‘herbivore’ comes from the Latin hĕrba (‘herb’) and vorare (‘to devour’). Herbivores are organisms adapted to obtain energy primarily from plants. Their digestive system, teeth, gut flora, and even feeding behavior are oriented towards this function. Within this order, ruminants –like cows– are even more specialized. The word ‘ruminant’ derives from rūmĭgare,(>*‘to chew again’ with an exchange of ‘u’ and ‘e’; metathesis favored by the influence of the prefix ‘re-’), that is, to chew again. Their digestive system, divided into four compartments, allows for the breakdown of cellulose thanks to microorganisms present in the rumen – the first stomach of ruminants –, a word from the Latin root rūma.

Cats, on the other hand, are strict carnivores. The term ‘carnivore’ also comes to us from Latin: carnis (‘meat’) and vorare (‘to devour’). Their biology requires nutrients found primarily in animal protein. They have short intestines, teeth adapted for tearing, and a physiology designed to metabolize meat. They may nibble on a plant from time to time – many do –, but this does not make them omnivores, just as a person does not become a musician because they whistle in the shower.

Between these two extremes, we find omnivores, from the Latin omnis (‘all’) and vorare (‘to devour’). Humans are. So are pigs, crows, or bears. An omnivore is an organism capable of obtaining nutrients from both plant and animal sources. This does not mean it eats absolutely everything or in any proportion, but rather that its body has the biological capacity to utilize diverse resources.

However, that a species is omnivorous does not imply that all individuals eat the same. And this is where we enter the realm of culture, beliefs, tastes, and ideologies. American social psychologist Melanie Joy coined the term ‘carnism’ to describe the belief system that considers it normal, natural, and necessary to consume certain animals. Her contribution is interesting because it names an often invisible idea: while we label who is vegetarian or vegan, we rarely label who eats meat, as if it were a neutral option. This terminological contribution is relevant: when we give a name to a practice, we make it conceivable. And when we can conceive it, we can also question it.

Joy argues that societies establish symbolic hierarchies between animals: we love dogs, eat pigs, and dress in cow skins. 'Carnism,' according to this theory, does not describe a biological necessity – we have already said that humans are omnivores – but rather a cultural framework that dictates what we consider edible, acceptable, or unthinkable. There is nothing biological that explains why in many European homes a rabbit is a meal, but a cat is family; this belongs to the realm of culture.

The DIEC2 defines 'vegetarian' as a person who practices vegetarianism, that is, a dietary system that excludes meat products – a rather meager definition. 'Vegan,' on the other hand, refers to someone who adopts a lifestyle that completely excludes the use and consumption of animal products. Here there is a will, a consciousness, and often an ethical reflection behind it. Therefore, an animal cannot be vegan or vegetarian: there is no moral or cultural decision, but an evolutionary adaptation.

Similarly, we cannot say that a carrot is vegan. A carrot is a vegetable. Veganism is a human practice, not an intrinsic property of food. It may seem like a trivial matter, but language creates mental frameworks. When we confuse condition and decision, we also blur the relationship between nature and culture.

There is another important nuance: allergies and intolerances are part of a person's condition. Those who are lactose intolerant or celiac do not choose it.

Linguistic imprecision

If we do not distinguish between condition and decision, we are not being precise. This linguistic imprecision leads us to a conceptual confusion. When language is precise, thought is also precise. When we conceptualize reality, we can decide.

Words do not only describe the world: they also construct it. Confusing condition and decision is not only a terminological issue, but also a conceptual one. Linguistic precision helps us to order our thoughts and to better understand what we are, what we can choose, and what, simply, is part of our nature. When we refine our concepts, we can reflect more clearly and make conscious decisions.

In short, eating is not just ingesting nutrients; it is also explaining ourselves. But it is worth remembering that words matter. A cow is not vegetarian: it is herbivorous. A cat does not follow ketogenic or paleolithic diets: it is carnivorous. And a person can be vegan because, precisely, they are human and can decide.