If eating meat is so wrong, why are vegans obsessed with copying its taste and texture?

Let’s be real—one of the most common jabs vegans get hit with sounds something like this:

“If meat is so bad, why do you want everything to taste like it?”

And I get it. On the surface, it feels like a contradiction.

You’re swearing off steak, yet your shopping cart’s full of things like “beefless strips” and “chik’n nuggets.” You're touting the moral high ground, but then turning around and marinating seitan until it bleeds beet juice.

Isn’t that… kind of hypocritical?

Actually, no. But it’s a fair question. And the answer is more nuanced than most people assume.

So let’s unpack it—without the eye rolls, and without the moral grandstanding.

Our taste for meat isn’t the enemy—our systems are

Here’s the thing: for most vegans, giving up meat wasn’t about hating its taste.

It was about disliking where it comes from.

The majority of vegans didn’t stop eating meat because they suddenly found it gross. They stopped because of ethical concerns around animal welfare, or because they felt uneasy about the environmental cost, or they noticed how their body responded better without it.

But did their taste buds suddenly forget how juicy a well-seasoned burger is?

Of course not.

As noted by food psychologist Dr. Melanie Joy, “It’s not meat eaters or vegans who are irrational—it’s the system that makes us think compassion is extreme and cruelty is normal.”

Most plant-based eaters aren’t trying to erase the memory of meat. They’re just trying to detach it from the industrial systems of suffering and overconsumption that they no longer want to support.

Taste isn’t the enemy. Exploitation is.

Craving meat is human—it’s what you do with it that counts

Think back to childhood.

You probably didn’t just eat meat for the flavor—you ate it at birthday parties, summer barbecues, and family holidays.

Our attachment to meat is emotional as much as it is physical.

When someone goes vegan, they’re not trying to reject everything that made them feel warm and nourished growing up. They’re just finding new ways to recreate it.

And here’s where psychology comes in.

Humans are wired for familiarity and routine. Food isn’t just sustenance—it’s identity. Comfort foods evoke positive memories and tap into our deeper emotional wiring, helping us feel anchored and connected.

Even the scent of certain dishes can transport us back to moments of emotional safety and belonging.

So when someone creates a plant-based sausage that smells like the one they used to eat on Sunday mornings with their dad, that’s not “obsession.” That’s adaptation.

As one behavioral researcher pointed out, “People don’t change their values overnight. They scaffold them—piece by piece, with compromises that feel familiar enough to stick.”

The mimicry is marketing—and it’s working

Let’s also talk about another big piece: accessibility.

Not everyone goes vegan because they love tofu and kale. A lot of people are curious, hesitant, and unsure where to start.

Meat alternatives that look and taste familiar give people a way in.

If you’ve spent your entire life eating cheeseburgers and hot dogs, a quinoa bowl isn’t exactly going to scratch the itch when you're craving a comfort meal after a long week.

So companies recreate the taste and texture of meat to remove the friction of change.

That’s not obsession—it’s strategy.

And it works.

Studies from the Good Food Institute show that when plant-based options are merchandised and named similarly to meat, sales increase dramatically. People feel less intimidated. More open.

When I first cut back on animal products, it wasn’t because I’d sworn off meat forever. It was because I found a smoky tempeh bacon that made my BLT taste just as indulgent. That one switch turned into another. And then another.

And here I am years later, still not missing much.

People copy what works—then make it better

Let’s zoom out a bit.

Innovation often begins with imitation.

Look at any emerging industry and you’ll see it—early electric cars looked like traditional sedans, even if they functioned totally differently. Early e-books mimicked the look of printed pages, complete with fake page-turning animations.

Why? Because when you want people to adopt something new, it helps to make it feel familiar.

Plant-based meat isn’t some failed attempt to be “real” meat. It’s a bridge. A way to meet people where they are while giving them the opportunity to shift direction.

And in many cases, the goal isn’t even just to imitate—it’s to improve.

Many companies are focused on building products that offer the umami, richness, and satisfaction of meat, but without the downsides: cholesterol, antibiotics, carbon emissions.

As Ethan Brown of Beyond Meat said in a 2023 interview, “We’re not anti-meat. We’re pro-meat evolution.”

That’s a big difference.

You can enjoy the flavor without supporting the harm

Here’s another way to look at it.

Most people don’t enjoy meat because it comes from an animal. They enjoy it because of how it’s seasoned, cooked, and served.

That savory flavor we associate with meat? It comes from a compound called glutamate—which is also found in soy sauce, mushrooms, and tomatoes.

So when vegans create dishes that mimic those flavors, they’re not secretly craving animal flesh. They’re craving depth. Satisfaction. Comfort.

And they’re doing it without the harm.

Imagine if you could enjoy the taste of your favorite burger—but know that no animals suffered, no rainforests were cleared, and your cholesterol wasn’t taking a hit.

Wouldn’t that be worth a try?

Obsession isn’t always a bad thing

Let’s go back to the word “obsession.”

It’s often used as a criticism, but let’s be honest—aren’t we all a little obsessed with something?

Some people obsess over football stats. Others obsess over sourdough starters or fantasy novels or home renovation TikToks.

Vegan chefs obsess over texture, seasoning, and innovation—because they care.

They’re not trying to trick anyone.

They’re just passionate about creating food that’s ethical and enjoyable.

Research shows that vegans often exhibit higher “vegan literacy”—a deep knowledge of nutrition, environmental impact, and animal welfare—that informs their consistency and commitment to the lifestyle.

And frankly, if we’re going to criticize obsession, maybe it’s time we take a closer look at our own food habits.

Because clinging to a system that’s unsustainable, unhealthy, and driven by mass production—despite mountains of evidence—now that’s a form of obsession we don’t talk about enough.

Final thoughts

So, is it ironic that vegans recreate the taste and texture of meat?

Not really.

It’s smart. Strategic. Human.

It’s what happens when people try to align their values with their habits—without sacrificing joy.

The next time you see a plant-based burger that “bleeds” beet juice or a vegan brisket that shreds just right, don’t assume it’s about pretending.

It’s about progressing.

Because taste doesn’t have to come at the cost of our ethics. And flavor doesn’t have to be tied to harm.

We can love the memory of something, even while choosing to do better.

And sometimes, the best kind of change isn’t a rejection—it’s a reinvention.