Identities should run deeper than dietary choice

Are you vegan? But then, why am I asking? You would have already told me and everybody else you've come in contact with since taking up this animal product free diet. You have become a vegan.

It defines you, and that's the way you like it. It gives you an edge, a little superiority over those who still (Eww!) eat meat, or cheese, or butter, or drink dairy ... and all those other unenlightened things.

"I'm vegan" is often a line thrown out in a restaurant, sometimes with aggression, and always in a place where the only vegan option is a salad.

It seems there are certain things that people like to wear as a badge, an identity symbol to make them stand out from the rabble. Of course, not everything is a legitimate badge, a logo of good taste, discernment and social superiority.

Let me try.

"Hi, I'm Paul. I'm Sagittarian, heterosexual and omnivorous."

Doesn't work, does it? None of those things is enough to be of interest to anyone ... at all, actually. Because they are preferences of the majority, except for the star sign, and I would imagine about a twelfth of the population can share that one.

No, to have an "identity", you have to be in the minority and definitely a little bit different. Oh, and feel smug about it.

In my case, I have to use other things to define me during the outset of a conversation. Usually a trade or profession covers it, often in answer to the question: "What do you do?"

For too many others, what they "do" is subscribe to a dietary choice, perhaps, or maybe a sexual preference.

"Hi, I'm Pete and I'm keto."

That may define Pete in his own mind, but gives us nowhere from which to start a conversation, unless we want to talk about really boring things like carbohydrates and sources of protein.

"Hi, I'm Lawrence and I'm gay."

A century ago that would have led to a discussion on happiness and why Lawrence's spirits were so high, but now it's a defining statement for Lawrence and possibly his whole raison d'être, but it either seriously narrows the field of potential conversation partners or gives him a lucky late night.

So why do people have to wear these hats when they really give us no information about the person, other than they are obsessed with their diet or sexuality? Shouldn't humans run a little deeper than that?

I know it has been said "You are what you eat", but that's just a bumper sticker philosophy borrowed from either Anthelme Brillat-Savarin or Ludwig Andreas Feuerbach, neither of whom intended the phrase be taken literally. It has been hijacked by the dietary Luftwaffe who proceed to dive bomb us with every restrictive food choice and call it healthy and what everyone should be doing.

But that's silly, because if everyone became vegan, for example, it would mean nothing.

"Hi, I'm vegan" would be as nonsensical as "Hi, I breathe". Even now, if a vegan meets a vegan do they find they have so many things in common that a discussion is going to be long and fruitful, or will they find they have nothing to argue about?

"Hi, I'm Gerald and I'm vegan."

"Hi, I'm Olivia and wow, like, me too!"

"Oh, darn."

Let's take a real look at who we are, not who we think we should be or what we would like others to be.

"Hi, I'm Paul, and I'm editor, photographer, reporter and teaboy for Whanganui Midweek."

Obviously who I am is a lot more complex, but as an introduction it gives a conversation partner a foothold, especially if their opening line is interesting enough for me to stay and chat.

Immediately they get that I'm not suggesting they do what I do, but it's an invitation for them to tell me what their line of work or interest is. What they eat or would prefer me to eat is not only boring but can be confrontational, and that says a lot about the character of the conversation and at least one of its combatants.

So if we are going to chat, let's get beyond the dietary and sexual — unless either / or is a means to an evening's end — and look deeper into the person: who they are, not what they are.

It's true that social media has trivialised conversation and led to shallow, non-verbal, badly spelled relationships online, but face-to-face meetings still provide opportunities for real discussion, possible arguments, but eventual resolutions and an open door into a new cerebral connection.

"Hi, I'm Carol and I'm vegan" will merely send me away to the carvery section of the buffet in puerile protest, but "Hi, I'm Jill and I'm an artist" opens a whole topic up for discussion until the band starts up and drowns us out.

We don't need the superficial to define us when we have personalities and characters with depth beyond "keto" or "gay" or even vague references to a mental illness. None of those things is who we are; they can certainly arise sometime in the conversation but to make them the subject is to limit the exchange considerably.

All of us are something interesting, even if it's how amazingly superficial we are, and we should not limit ourselves to a tiny portion of the vast, complicated personality that exists beneath the skin deep surface.

We all have a unique selling point but if that happens to be your taste in food, and that's all you can find to talk about, may you find someone equally as dull with an interest just as inconsequential.

Happy conversing.