Is it okay to eat meat for health reasons?

Editor’s note, November 1, 8 a.m. ET: We’re bringing you some of our favorite “Your mileage may vary.” The following content was originally published in August 2025.

This unconventional advice column gives you a unique framework for thinking about ethical dilemmas. It is based on values ​​pluralism: each of us has multiple equally valid but often conflicting values. Submit your own question here.

I usually eat a vegetarian diet and have considered going completely vegetarian due to concerns about animal welfare. But lately my on-and-off gastrointestinal issues have been recurring, and I’ve had to go back on a stricter diet to control my symptoms—no spices, no garlic or onions, no acidic foods, and no caffeinated foods. It’s hard enough to stick to a “light” diet, but when things like tomatoes, onions, and grapefruits are eliminated, it’s extremely difficult to do it while on a vegetarian diet.

I know many people with these problems eat fish or meat, and some medical professionals recommend drinking chicken bone broth to relieve symptoms. While my gut returns to normal on its own, I don’t want to give up my commitment to animal welfare, but my food options are now limited. How should I handle this problem?

Dear would-be vegetarian,

You’re not the only one who finds it difficult to stick to a vegan diet. Only 5% of American adults say they are vegetarian or vegan. What’s more, one study found that 84% of people on these diets actually went back to eating meat at some point. Most of them don’t even address the gastrointestinal issues you’re facing.

So, that speaks to the depth of your ethical commitment that you’re really grappling with this issue. I’ll give you some specific advice later, but first I want to emphasize that how you approach the issue of eating meat will depend on your underlying moral theory.

There is a classic disagreement in moral philosophy between deontologists and utilitarians. Deontologists believe that an action is moral if it fulfills a certain duty – we have universal duties such as “Always treat others as an end in itself, rather than a means to an end.” From this perspective, killing animals for food is inherently morally wrong because you view animals as a means to an end.

Utilitarians, meanwhile, believe that an action is moral if it produces good consequences—and moral action means producing as much happiness or well-being as possible, or minimizing as much suffering as possible. Utilitarian philosophers like Peter Singer believe that we should reduce, and preferably eliminate, the suffering animals endure at our hands.

Deontologists and utilitarians are often pitted against each other, but they actually have one big thing in common: they both believe in a universal moral principle—whether it’s “always treat others as ends in yourself” or “always maximize happiness.”

Many people find this comforting because it provides certainty about how we should act. Even if ethical behavior requires hard sacrifice, it can be incredibly soothing to think, “If I only did X, then I’d know for sure that I’m a good person!”

But these moral theories assume that all the complexity of human life can be reduced to a neat formula. Is it really possible?

Another philosophical school—pragmatism—believes that we should be skeptical of fixed moral principles. Human life is so complex, and there are many different factors at play in any moral dilemma, that we should have a pluralistic view of what makes an outcome valuable, rather than acting as if the only thing that matters is maximizing a single value (e.g., happiness). And human society is always evolving, so moral concepts that make sense in one context may no longer make sense in a different context. For pragmatists, moral truths are contingent rather than universal and unchanging.

I think one pragmatist who can really help you is Elizabeth Anderson at the University of Michigan. In a 2005 article applying pragmatism to the question of eating meat, the philosopher argued that for most of human history, we could not survive and thrive without killing or exploiting animals for food, transportation, and energy. Until recently, the social conditions for granting moral rights to animals did not really exist on a large scale (although some non-Western societies do grant moral value to some animals).

“It has only recently been possible for us to moralize our relationships with animals (other than our pets), but even then, not all of us, nor all animal species,” Anderson writes.

In other words, Anderson believes there is no universal rule that eating animals is inherently wrong. It is our social and technological environment that makes us more capable than ever before of seeing animals as part of our moral circle. Nor does she believe there is any single criterion—such as sentience or intelligence—that allows us to judge how much moral attention animals deserve. This is because moral evaluation involves not only the intrinsic capabilities of animals but also their relationship to us. It matters, for example, whether we domesticate them to make them dependent on us, or whether they live independently in the wild.

It also matters whether they are fundamentally hostile to us. Kill bed bugs? No problem at all! They may be sentient, but, Anderson writes, “we are in a permanent state of war with them, and a negotiated peace is impossible. One-sided care for their interests… would be tantamount to surrender.”

Anderson’s point is not that animal intelligence and sentience are unimportant. Many other things are important, including our own ability to develop.

With this pragmatic approach in mind, you can consider how to balance concern for animal welfare with concern for your own welfare. Instead of thinking in terms of moral absolutes that force you to adopt a “pure” diet, you can consider a “reductionist” diet, which allows you to alleviate your own struggles while also taking care of animals seriously, no matter what the cost to you.

The key thing to realize is that certain types of animal consumption cause far less suffering than others.

For one thing, if you eat meat, try to buy pasture-raised meat rather than meat from factory farms—which supply 99% of the meat in the United States. In these facilities, animals are packed closely together and live in extremely harsh and unsanitary conditions. They are also often mutilated without pain relief: think pigs castrated, cows dehorned, hens debeaked. Oh, and the chickens have been bred to be so big that they are in constant pain; they live miserable lives throughout.

The pasture-raised label doesn’t mean the animals have been protected from all the harms of modern agriculture – it doesn’t guarantee the use of pain-relieving methods during painful surgeries, and farm animals in different production systems are raised to maximize yields, which can compromise their welfare. Of course, they eventually meet the same fate as animals raised on factory farms – slaughter. But your goal is to meaningfully reduce harm, not 100% eliminate it. At least pasture-raised animals are able to roam the fields and engage in natural behaviors until the end.

By the way, the situation is similar with fish. More than half of the fish we eat comes from fish farms, which are basically just underwater factory farms. Wild-caught fish isn’t perfect—slow, suffocating death is common—but it’s better than farmed fish.

The thing to note here is that many of the welfare labels you see on animal products are basically scams. And some certification schemes have very similar names, so be sure to pay close attention. If you see a “Certified Humane” label, that is indeed a higher benefit – but don’t mistake it for “Certified Humane”, it’s not. And be careful not to put too much effort into labels like “free range” or “free range.” They’re better than nothing, but since these terms are often poorly defined and not enforced, they don’t make as much sense as you might think. Here’s a good guide to distinguishing the real deal from what’s advertised.

Another classic tip from animal welfare advocates is to eat larger animals—in other words, eat beef instead of chicken. This is both because of how miserable the lives of chickens on factory farms are, and because, as my former colleague Kelsey Piper has written , it takes far more chicken lives to feed humans than cow lives. Cows are huge and can produce about 500 pounds of beef each, while a chicken can only produce a few pounds of meat. Thus, each year, the average American eats about 23 chickens and a little more than one-tenth of a cow.

That said, cows have a greater impact on the climate than chickens, so you don’t want to eat a lot of beef either. The environment is also one of the key values ​​faced in our consumption choices and must therefore also be considered.

Of course, another possibility—one that might solve your gastrointestinal woes to some extent—is to eat low-fiber plant-based foods like tofu, gluten, and the smorgasbord of new products now available (like Beyond and Impossible burgers).

But assuming you’re going to eat meat, it’s a good idea to set some clear parameters and standards around your food-reduction diet. Many reductionists—myself included—fall into the trap of: “I’m going to eat less meat,” but I forget to quantify what that means. This may result in you eating more meat than you intended. Therefore, it’s best to commit to a “weekday vegetarian diet” or a “pre-six o’clock vegetarian diet” – you can check out the recommendations of the Reductarian Foundation.

At the end of the day, remember that there are multiple values ​​involved here, and no one value necessarily trumps all the others. If you think it’s important for your health to eat some meat right now, and you try to do it in a way that minimizes the suffering of animals, I don’t think you need to feel bad about it. That’s because you don’t run away from your values: you realize that your values ​​are diverse, and you try to balance them. This is probably the best thing any of us can truly do.

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