My 10-year-old cousin plopped a piece of meat on his dinner plate and, without provocation, said, “Aw, too bad you’re vegetarian. Why are you?” “Because I know where most meat comes from, and I don’t want to eat sick animals,” I replied. I spared him the details of factory-farm cows living in feces and untreated pustulating wounds. “But this tastes soo good,” he retorted. He said he didn’t believe me, so I offered to show him photos of farm animals. He refused, saying, “That would be disgusting”—an admission that even at the age of 10, he knows it’s not right, but chooses to ignore it instead.