We were recently asked to review Russell Simmons’ new book, The Happy Vegan, and we eagerly accepted. When the book arrived, we each read it separately and had identical reactions. For the first 179 pages, Mr. Simmons clearly explains all the reasons we should be vegan. He talks about everything from the needless exploitation of animals used for food production, upon whom undeniable atrocities are committed to procure said foods, to the harmful environmental effects on our planetary ecosystems caused by factory farming. He explains the deleterious effects on human health caused by consumption of animal products and why a vegan diet is superior to a diet containing animal products. In referring to his own spirituality, largely influenced by his nearly 20 year practice of yoga and mindfulness, he makes a compelling argument for the karmic and spiritual reasons to avoid consuming animals and products that come from them. He does this all with a simple, matter of fact tone that makes the reader feel like he is having an intimate conversation with you. His words are easily heard and can be readily understood by anyone. We both found ourselves continually nodding as we read his book, saying things like, “YES! He totally gets it!” Simmons candidly talks about his own journey to veganism including his initial resistance to it and the positive impact it has made on his life both physically and spiritually. If this was all The Happy Vegan contained, it would be a great book that we would fully endorse and encourage everyone to read. Unfortunately, that is not the case.

Throughout The Happy Vegan, Simmons references celebrities to highlight examples of successful people who have enhanced their own lives by going vegan. Unfortunately, none of these celebrities are actually vegan. He mentions former President Clinton even though Mr. Clinton is very open about his consumption of fish, some dairy and eggs. In discussing the horrors of testing products on animals, he references celebrity vegan Ellen DeGeneres, a longtime self-proclaimed vegan who, like Clinton, simply is not. DeGeneres was a spokesperson for Covergirl Cosmetics, a company owned by Procter & Gamble. Proctor & Gamble regularly tests its products on animals. DeGeneres’s clothing line contains wool and her shoe line has leather. Her use and profiting from animal products is not all surprising considering she is very open about eating the eggs of her neighbor’s backyard chickens. Simmons talks about how Beyonce, who has launched a well publicized vegan meal home delivery service, stills eats fish “here and there”. Beyonce openly admits, “I still eat meat,” but this doesn’t stop Simmons as holding her up as a shining example of a so-called “happy vegan.” In discussing tennis superstar Venus Williams, who adopted a plant-based diet to treat her Sjogren’s disease, Simmons mentions that Williams actually calls herself a “chegan,” (short for “cheating vegan”) a title that proudly professes her non-absolutist version of a vegan diet. While following a plant-based diet, Williams admits to occasionally allowing herself to eat pretty much anything she wants – animal products included. Simmons explains all of these inconsistencies away by drawing the distinction between “strict vegans” and other “happy vegans”, including himself, who occasionally eat or wear animal products.

Simmons could have chosen to highlight real celebrity vegans like Emily Deschanel, Joaquin Phoenix, Bellamy Young, Steve-O, Morrissey, or Moby but it’s clear why he instead chose to hold up these non-vegan celebrities as examples of veganism: because they are just like him. Simmons openly admits that he “slips” occasionally and eats animal products. He boasts that he is not a “strict vegan” and that, from time to time, he allows himself to intentionally eat animals:

“I’ve said that I practice veganism religiously, but there have been plenty of moments where I lose that religion. I’m prone to sneaking in a chicken here or a piece of fish there if I think nobody is listening. Just like I’ll order the egg noodle soup every now and then. When those moments happen, however, I won’t get down on  myself and fall off the vegan wagon. Instead, I say sorry to any animals I have harmed, forgive myself for having given in to an urge that wasn’t helpful, and then recommit myself to the practice of eating and living compassionately.”

Wait– what? You did fall off the vegan wagon, Russell.  And no matter what kind of psychopathy you employ to rationalize your transgressions against your own stated moral beliefs, you simply cannot apologize someone who is dead. Assuaging one’s own feelings of guilt for giving into a few fleeting moments of palate-pleasure in exchange for the lifetime of pain and suffering inflicted on the animal consumed is something one does for oneself. The animal isn’t involved. She doesn’t absolve you of anything because she is already dead. You are simply speaking for her to feel less badly about your moral inconsistency.

Tellingly, Simmons anticipates a response like ours to this confession, saying that if you are the kind of vegan who takes issue with this interpretation of  “strict” (consistent) versus “happy” (inconsistent) vegans,  then you are an “angry vegan.” Yes, quite shockingly, Simmons employs this age-old stereotype that judges others as “angry vegans” simply because they speak an uncomfortable truth that shatters the thin veneer of his purported morality, exposing the hollowness and lack of substance within.

It is utterly perplexing how, after 179 pages in which Simmons systematically details the extreme horrors of animal agriculture and begs the reader to change their way of life, he undoes it all in a few short pages. His advice strays from his initial message of  “go vegan and don’t use animal products,” to “call yourself vegan and still exploit animals when you want to.” If his overall message in the preceding 179 pages had been one of easing gradually into dietary changes, then his suggestion that one forgive themselves for “slips” along the path to consistent veganism would have been understandable. However, Simmons previously said that plans like Vegan Before 6 and Meatless Mondays which encourage people gradually adopt a vegan diet are not good ideas, likening them to slave owners giving slaves a day off. Yet Simmons then promotes his own version of a gradual approach to veganism, but one where the end point is far from actually vegan. Simmons fails to see that, in telling us that even when you are vegan, it is okay to still eat animals, it is no different than a slave owner freeing all his slaves, but every now and then acquiring a new one for a day or two. We understand that we all come to veganism differently, as different ways work better for different people. Ethan, having first gone vegetarian, quickly decided that there was an important moral distinction between vegetarian and vegan and, on a single day, decided to live vegan. Michael took a more gradual approach, adopting Meatless Monday and going from there. But make no mistake, the end goal of our journeys, of every vegan’s journey, is to not use or exploit animals. Simmons’ warped redefinition of veganism changes the goal from total animal non-use, confusing the moral baseline that is the central definition of the term.

We are deeply disappointed in this book because The Happy Vegan starts off so strong and promises to be a wonderful guide to help people go vegan, only to derail in a terribly destructive and, as Simmons would say, “unhelpful” way. It offers a confused message that you can be vegan and still eat and use animals. While Simmons touts his so-called veganism as an ethical choice, he also says cheating on those ethics is completely acceptable. We disagree completely. Frankly, Mr. Simmons, we would much rather be “angry vegans” who are morally consistent than “happy vegans” who think it is still perfectly fine to exploit animals, because those kinds of “vegans” aren’t really vegan at all.