Most people assume vegans skip eggs because of cholesterol or taste, but the real reason cuts much deeper than personal health.
When someone finds out I'm vegan, eggs are usually the first thing they ask about. "But what about eggs from backyard chickens?" or "What if the hens are treated really well?" These are fair questions. And honestly, they're the same ones I asked myself years ago when I was still eating eggs from a friend's small farm.
The assumption is that vegans avoid eggs for health reasons, or maybe because we're squeamish about eating something that came from a bird.
But the real reason most vegans pass on eggs has nothing to do with cholesterol numbers or personal preference. It's about a system that starts long before any hen lays her first egg.
The hidden cost of hatching
Here's something the egg industry doesn't advertise: for every egg-laying hen that exists, a male chick was born alongside her. And male chicks don't lay eggs. They also don't grow fast enough to be profitable as meat birds. So what happens to them?
According to The Humane Society, billions of male chicks are killed shortly after hatching each year, typically within their first day of life. The methods include maceration and gassing. This happens at hatcheries that supply chickens to factory farms, small farms, and yes, even the places that sell "backyard hens" to well-meaning families.
This is the part of the egg story that rarely gets told. The cruelty isn't just in how laying hens are treated. It's baked into the very process of creating them.
What "cage-free" actually means
Labels like "cage-free," "free-range," and "pasture-raised" suggest happy hens roaming green fields. And while these terms do represent some improvements over battery cages, they often paint a rosier picture than reality.
Cage-free hens aren't in cages, but they're typically still packed into large barns with thousands of other birds. "Free-range" legally requires access to the outdoors, but that access might be a small door that most hens never find. The ASPCA's label guide breaks down what these terms actually guarantee, and it's often less than consumers expect.
The marketing works because we want to believe there's a humane version of this. But the fundamental economics of egg production create pressure to maximize output and minimize costs, regardless of the label on the carton.
The biology we've engineered
Wild jungle fowl, the ancestors of modern chickens, lay about 10 to 15 eggs per year. Today's commercial laying hens have been selectively bred to produce around 300 eggs annually. That's a massive biological toll on their bodies.
This intensive egg production depletes calcium from their bones, often leading to osteoporosis and fractures. Many hens develop reproductive issues like prolapsed vents or egg binding. Their bodies are essentially working overtime, every single day, to produce something we've decided we want for breakfast.
Even in the most idyllic backyard setting with the most caring owner, these hens are still living in bodies that have been engineered for productivity over wellbeing. The breeding itself is a form of harm that happened generations before any individual hen was born.
The question of consent
This might sound philosophical, but it's actually pretty practical. When we take eggs from hens, we're taking something their bodies produced for a specific biological purpose. Hens will often eat their own unfertilized eggs to reclaim the nutrients they lost making them.
Some backyard chicken keepers feed eggs back to their hens for exactly this reason. It helps replenish calcium and protein. When we take those eggs instead, we're prioritizing our desire for an omelet over the hen's nutritional needs.
There's also something worth considering about the relationship itself. We've bred these animals to be dependent on us, to produce far more than their bodies were designed to, and then we take what they produce. Even with the best intentions, that dynamic has some uncomfortable implications.
Final thoughts
I get why eggs seem like the "harmless" animal product. No animal dies directly for a single egg. The hens are going to lay them anyway, right? But once you trace the supply chain backward, past the carton and the farm and the hatchery, you find a system built on some pretty troubling foundations.
Vegans don't avoid eggs because we think they're unhealthy or because we don't like the taste. Many of us loved eggs before we stopped eating them. We avoid them because we've looked at the full picture and decided we don't want to participate in that system.
Whether that reasoning resonates with you is a personal call. But at least now you know it's not about cholesterol.
