Are Vegan Pledges Helping or Hindering the Movement?

Vegan “challenges” are everywhere now. Veganuary, Meatless Mondays, 22-day this, 10-week that. It all sounds motivational — community-based, bite-sized activism, designed to introduce people to the idea that maybe animals aren’t food. But why are we encouraging people to play at justice for a few weeks at a time?

This isn’t to say these challenges are useless — they’re not. But they are tools, not solutions. Tools can be sharp or blunt. They can build movements or dull the urgency. So let’s dig into the science, the strategy, and the reality of vegan challenges — what works, what backfires, and whether this tactic is helping or hindering liberation.

Performative or Persuasive?

A "vegan" challenge is not veganism. It’s a limited commitment to stop using animals in some or all ways for a short period. It’s an invitation, not a conviction. Think of it as a door held open — but you’ve still got to walk through.

Psychologically, that open door can work. People who take part in these challenges often already feel a pull — a tug of conscience or curiosity. That’s a key point: most participants are not militant bacon-worshippers reluctantly changing their fry-up. They’re people who are already halfway out of the burning building, just looking for the exit.

That’s why challenges can be effective. Not because they magically deprogram speciesism, but because they give people just enough support to follow through on an itch they already had.

Do They Work? Define “Work”

Conversion rates for these challenges — meaning someone goes from using animals to not using them — range from 10 to 28%. Not bad on paper. But “conversion” often just means moving from daily meat eater to part-time vegetarian. That’s not nothing — but it’s also not justice.

The better news? Most participants don’t go back to eating animals like nothing happened. Even the dropouts tend to eat fewer animals than they did before. The worst news? Without follow-up, even the best pledges lose power. If people sign up, flounder, and get no support, they’re likely to boomerang back to old habits.

Retention is our weak spot. You can light a spark, but if you don’t tend the fire, it goes out. That’s true in the research, and it’s true in every failed campaign where people said “I tried veganism once.”

Meatless Mondays: Gentle Start or Missed Point?

Meatless Mondays has been around for decades. It’s one day a week. One day without flesh. That’s not a revolutionary act — it’s a diet tweak. But data shows ripple effects. People who go meatless on Monday are more likely to eat less meat overall, especially if they stick with it long-term.

Does that mean we should praise reductionism? Not exactly. Telling someone to exploit fewer animals still frames animals as acceptable to exploit. And without reinforcement, reduction pledges can actually increase meat purchases on other days. It’s a little like saying “Drive safely on Mondays” — what about the rest of the week?

Still, in institutional settings — schools, hospitals, offices — Meatless Mondays can be a gateway. They introduce the concept that animal flesh is not a requirement. But only if you pair them with education. Without that, it’s just menu reshuffling.

Veganuary: Brand Boost or Behaviour Shift?

Veganuary is a bigger beast. Over 25 million people took part in 2025, whether officially or unofficially. It gets media buzz. It makes headlines. It boosts plantbased food sales — and according to some studies, it reduces animal product consumption for months afterwards.

Around 27% of official participants stayed plantbased, while a further 54% cut their meat intake in half or more. Those are strong results — and they beat the unofficial pledgers by a mile. That’s because people who sign up formally get access to recipes, encouragement, community, and accountability. They’re not going it alone.

But here’s the issue: most of the Veganuary messaging is health and climate-focused. Animal rights often gets drowned out. Brands push new products, influencers jump on the trend, and the original message — that animals are not ours to use — gets lost in the noise.

The outcome? More vegan sausages, fewer liberated minds.

Community Over Conversion

People don’t change in isolation. One of the strongest predictors of sticking with veganism is social support. If your family mocks you, your mates eat wings in your face, and your favourite pub has one sad salad on the menu — you’ll struggle. But if you're doing it with friends, classmates, or co-workers? The odds shoot up.

That’s why challenges that target groups — universities, churches, gyms, parenting networks — are more effective than ones aimed at lone individuals. Behaviour change spreads through social networks. It always has.

And yet, we keep aiming our messages at individuals instead of communities.

Design Matters: Active, Public, Forgiving

Not all challenges are created equal. The best ones are:

Active: Not just “try to eat less meat,” but “commit to a month-long vegan plan with support.”

Public: You tell your friends, your colleagues, your nan. Social accountability works.

Flexible: There’s room for imperfection, not punishment.

Specific: “Eat no animal products” is clearer than “go plant-based.”

Forward-looking: It’s not a test — it’s a start.

Forgiving: Because shame kills momentum faster than failure.

Good challenges don’t just ask for a signature. They give people tools. Recipes, facts, conversations, reminders, check-ins. And most importantly, they keep going after the month ends.

Who’s Left Out?

One study found that meat-free challenges made some Black U.S. Americans feel angry toward animal advocates. That should stop us in our tracks. Why? Likely because many challenges are white-coded, middle-class, and culturally tone-deaf. They’re marketed in ways that don’t reflect or respect the communities they target.

That’s not just a branding issue — it’s a movement issue. If your challenge alienates the very people you want to reach, it’s not working.

The fix? Representation. Collaboration. Context. Challenges should be tailored to who they’re trying to reach, not just what they’re trying to say. A vegan pledge that ignores cultural food traditions, economic barriers, or family dynamics isn’t inclusive. It’s just naive.

Not a Magic Bullet — A Trigger

The evidence is clear: challenges don’t abolish animal use. But they can trigger the mindset shift that does. That’s why it matters how and when we deploy them.

Best practice? Pair a challenge with a powerful intervention. Show a slaughterhouse documentary, then invite people to commit. Host a street outreach table, then offer a 22-day plan. Hand out free vegan food, then guide people to resources. Don’t let the challenge stand alone — make it part of a chain reaction.

The most effective advocates ask, “What’s the next step?” A challenge should never be the end goal. It should be the beginning.

It’s Not About Being Perfect — It’s About Getting Serious

Vegan challenges aren’t inherently flawed. They’re just misunderstood. When run well, they empower people to try a better way. They dismantle the myth that giving up animal products is hard. They start conversations. They shift norms. But we can’t confuse short-term behaviour change with long-term justice.

If your challenge gets someone to stop and think, it has value. If it gets them to act, even better. But if it leaves them thinking they’ve “done enough” — we’ve failed.

We owe it to animals not to settle for awareness. We’re not here to raise eyebrows. We’re here to raise hell. So run your pledges with purpose. Say what needs to be said. And always, always point people toward the truth.

This article was made possible by research conducted by Faunalytics.