Fury that people eat meat and you don't want them to is not justifiable. Photo / Getty Images
COMMENT
We used to pride ourselves on being a laid-back lot.
Oh, we could get excited from time to time. Usually, over big social issues - the waterfront workers strike, Springbok tour protests, the nuclear-free New Zealand campaign that showed to the rest of the world we were a littlecountry that could. New Zealanders have banded together and effected social and political change.
For every protester, there's a member of the family or community who thinks they are a misguided fool and doesn't mind telling them so. Christmas dinners and office parties can be a little tense but ultimately, we all respect the rights of one another to hold an opposing view and we agree to disagree.
Or rather, we used to. Now, it's not enough for us to each have our own opinion - we want others to live as we do.
Back in the day, I had a vegan friend. We all thought it was a bit odd that you would choose to give up bacon, or burgers. But hey, live and let live. I'd pore over recipe books to find something palatable, and generally, my vegan friend brought something with her anyway, and I kept my leather dress in the wardrobe.
It was a lot harder to be vegan in the 80s than it is now, but she didn't insist that I and the rest of the friendship group follow suit. She certainly didn't go round putting sanctimonious stickers on supermarket steaks, like some silly modern-day vegans have been doing.
When I was growing up, we all went to church. Our parents tried to live by their beliefs but as my friends and I drifted away from the church and came out or became unmarried mothers or lived in sin, they took deep breaths and loved us anyway.
Lordy, how I miss the old days. Now, every faction and splinter group and lobbyist and activist is yelling and shouting and demanding attention - even resorting to acts of violence - to force others to follow their lead.
The more others tell us to behave a certain way, the less likely we're going to. And so we shout back, which makes for a lot of noise in a very small space.
We have so many platforms now by which we can call people out and galvanise others to our cause. Social media means people will say things they would never, ever say in person.
Having a confrontation with another person in the real world is a very powerful physical experience. Your mouth goes dry, your heart rate goes up, your fight or flight switch flicks on.
You have no idea how the other person will respond and the experience can leave you shaking for hours.
I read a story recently about the discipline of cliodynamics, which plots historical events using mathematical equations. And this has produced a map of history in which you see spikes of global fury roughly every 50 years. Which puts us right smack in the middle of one now.
Hopefully, some good can come of it, because looking at some of the great social movements of our age, they began with anger - but somehow an anger that not all humans have the right to vote seems a more justifiable emotion than fury because people eat meat and you don't want them to.
I wish we could all live by my favourite Facebook meme, a quote usually (and erroneously) attributed to Dame Maggie Smith on Downton Abbey: Your political opinion (or your faith, or your sexual orientation or your choice of diet - fill in the blank) is like a penis (or breast - heaven forfend the men think I'm picking on them). It's fine to have one and be proud of it, but when you take it out and wave it in my face, that's when we have a problem.