How to Find Comfort

Welcome to Being Animal. This newsletter explores the intricacies of human-animal relationships. Through personal stories, commentary on current events, and thought-provoking debates, I hope to challenge your assumptions and deepen your understanding of how animals are treated in our society. How we treat animals matters— for our own health, for our planet, and for our sense of morality and humanity.

I want to make the world a better place for animals. To do this, we have to change how we think about animals. Lately, I’ve been thinking about what brings me comfort—the TV shows, the perfectly-worn-in-sweatshirts, and the food that feels like home. Is it possible to hold on to those things while reducing exploitation of animals?

Nothing is more comforting to me than watching Gilmore Girls.

I have seen the entire series multiple times. I know exactly what will happen in each episode. Sometimes I can even anticipate the dialogue, which is smart and often hilarious. The plot is quick without being sloppy; the characters are nuanced without losing their continuity. The show doesn’t take itself too seriously. It’s purposefully theatrical and overly sweet, verging on utopian. But that’s part of the show’s charm. Its blend of simple drama and idealized small-town charm is what keeps me pressing play after a long day.

It’s my comfort show. It feels like putting on my favorite sweatshirt and nuzzling into a blanket to press play on an episode. It’s soft, and known, and easy.

I watch this show over and over again because it brings me peace. It calms my nervous system to settle back into the lives of characters I know well, but who ask nothing of me. Even if I don’t pay attention, I’ll still know what’s going on. And if I miss a scene, I’ll catch it again next time I start a rewatch.

I’m not alone in this. People have comfort shows and movies, comfort podcasts, comfort books. My wife and I listen to Ezra Klein’s podcast when we are anxious and need to distract ourselves before going to bed. She loves the Harry Potter movies, but my constant replaying of Gilmore Girls has started to sway her to my comfort watch of choice. People often have a favorite comfort outfit or blanket or couch (I know I have all three). People have comfort hobbies. I do needlework, which I find meditative and creative. And almost everyone has a comfort meal, often rich and indulgent and gooey.

Finding something that gives us comfort is a common—maybe even critical—part of life. When life gets busy, hectic, or overwhelming, it can feel like a relief to slip into something we know, something unoffensive and safe, something we don’t have to think about all that much. Its power is in its sameness. Even as everything in life is changing and moving and demanding ever more of our attention, our comfort-things are just easy.

But just because something is easy doesn’t make it universally good. Things that brought us comfort years ago can become distasteful to today’s eyes. Even Gilmore Girls is not perfect. It makes jokes about gay people, which have happily fallen out of fashion, some of its references are dated, and some of the characters’ behaviors have been analyzed on social media as toxic and harmful.

So what do we do when the things that bring us comfort aren’t solely good anymore? More precisely, what do we do when the things that bring us comfort hurt animals?

This might happen more than you think. A favorite pair of suede or wool-lined slippers came from a farmed animals. Mac-and-cheese, like lots of “comfort foods,” uses dairy from exploited cows. Many movies and TV shows use live animals (including my beloved Gilmore Girls, which features horses and a dog in the later seasons). The list goes on.

The good news is that we don’t have to completely give up what makes us feel good to reduce our exploitation of animals.

Years ago, I would grab fast food as a treat after a long weekend day or on my way home from work. This was often a burger or a chicken sandwich, something greasy and delicious with fries on the side. Being vegan means those standard take-out options aren’t usually an option anymore. But my craving for fast food once in a while persists.

Luckily, it’s a fantastic time to be vegan. Tonight, my wife and I ordered takeout from a local vegan fast food joint, Hip City Veg, and I had a crisp, saucy chicken sandwich and fries. The ritual is the same, and the comfort is still there. But no chicken was slaughtered for my meal.

I have a wonderful pair of dark red Ugg slippers that I’ve had since my days at boarding school, when I scuffed along to the bathroom or to the common room. When I finally decided it was time for a new pair, I did some research and found great vegan alternatives. The coziness and warmth is there; the animal skin is not.

When I get to the parts of Gilmore Girls that show live animals, I reflect on their lives and their contributions, as silly as that may sound. The actor who played Richard, the patriarch of the Gilmore family, has passed away since the show wrapped. Scenes showing him give me a similar sense of gravitas. These creatures all helped create this piece of art that I love so deeply. I’m grateful for their roles.

What I’m trying to say is this: the form of comfort can change, if we let it. And even if it can’t, like with Gilmore Girls, we can reflect on what that means for us. We don’t have to lose what feels good and safe to us to build a better world for animals. Those two things aren’t opposites.

This week, I hope you think about what brings you comfort. Are there easy ways to adjust your habits so you don’t rely on animals? Maybe it’s a simple swap; maybe it’s just a cause for reflection. Whatever it is for you, I hope you find a way to enjoy your safety and warmth and coziness—which we all need and deserve!—without exploiting animals.