Milo Runkle is an author, an activist, an investor, and a nonprofit leader. He founded Mercy for Animals when he was 15 years old and, at the time, was part of a beginning of a plant-based farm animal advocacy group movement that has now become the largest plant-based environmental advocacy organization in the world. This came out of an experience Milo had when he was young, growing up in rural Ohio, where a teacher brought in a baby piglet for dissection. That baby piglet was not fully dead and he saw it recklessly thrown against the floor in standard factory farming practices to kill it. He wanted to press charges around that treatment of the animal.  Seeing that the legal system would not support him and that work, he resolved to do something, and that became Mercy for Animals. Over the last 20 years, that organization has become an important group to assist in the move away from factory farming and the worst practices of animal agriculture to create a more kind, compassionate, and gentle human presence on the planet through the foods we eat. He also founded the Good Food Institute, which has become a formative group to change our institutional and business approaches towards agriculture and using technology to replace food animals. He co-founded a start-up of sorts, or fundraising vehicle, to support efforts to reduce suffering for animals through alternatives in the food space. Milo has been on a journey himself in this process -- writing books, delving into meditation and yoga, and becoming an advocate outside of farm animals for LGBT rights and for the rights of nature. What follows is an edited transcript of an Awakin Call with Milo in conversation with Ariel Nessel. The unedited transcript and audio recording of the call can be accessed here. 

Ari: To start off, Milo, if you could, please tell us a little bit more detail about your journey. More

specifically, can you give us, as you think back on your childhood, your adolescence, what you would say

were the formative experiences that planted seeds for the work you've been doing over the past 20 years,

and the work you're doing today?        

Milo:  I was born on a small crop farm in rural Ohio in a little village called St. Paris, population of less than 2,000 people. The town was known for making pony wagons. I come from four generations of farmers. My great-great-grandfather and his parents moved from Europe back in the early 1800s. So a connection to agriculture, nature and animals was always in my blood. In fact, it was because of animals that my parents met. My dad was a veterinarian with an entrepreneurial spirit who started a horseback riding program. My mom was a teacher who answered his call for instructors, and the rest is sort of history.

I grew up around animals and nature -- really some of my best, earliest memories were exploring the nearby creeks, turning over rocks, looking for crawdads, and going into the woods. And by my side would always be our dogs and sometimes our cat Benjamin, who was incredibly brave and I think thought he was a dog as well. So I had this natural connection towards animals and a natural affinity and an empathy. I think I was always able to put myself in their paws and their position just long enough to think about what life was like for them. I just sort of innately knew that there was someone looking back at me from those eyes -- someone who was having an experience very much like I was having an experience. And of course, as I got older and learned more, it was like "that is someone holding a seat at the table, an observer -- someone with consciousness." I think most children have this innate interest in animals, this innate ability to connect with them. I think it is really sort of taught out of us to some extent.

This was my base. Both of my uncles and many people in my community were hunters and trappers and fishermen. So I also witnessed that. I went on one hunting trip with my Uncle Bruce in the woods behind my grandmother's house, and I'll never forget that experience. I was probably seven or eight years old, and for me, it was an opportunity to get close to animals, to see them in nature. I didn't carry a gun, but they did, and I remember approaching this little brown rabbit and they kept telling me to be quiet and they shot this rabbit. And we approached her and she was still alive -- just trembling in fear as we approached. That image will always be burned into my mind: these three larger, more powerful beings going out and causing suffering and harm and death to this other being who was just going about her day, for no good purpose; it was really just for something to do in the middle of the afternoon. That felt wrong at my core. But there's nobody in my family or in our community that really validated a sense that animals should be included in our sphere of concern. That they should be included in our consideration of ethics.

Fast forward a bit, to when I was 11. There was an Earth Day event at our local mall, and I convinced my mom to drive 45 minutes to Dayton, Ohio, where I picked up leaflets at a table from a local animal protection organization. That was the first time that I learned about factory farming and about the intensive confinement of animals. I learned about the fur industry and the abuse of animals in circuses. I remember reading those materials on the car ride home and by the time we pulled into our driveway, I told my mom that I was going to become a vegetarian. I didn't want to pay people to treat animals in this way. And picking up that brochure and meeting those individuals who made time on their Saturday afternoon to go and staff this table, changed my life. It changed my life because it validated this innate sense that we could do better and that we didn't have to be cruel, that we could choose kindness, and that there are other people that were doing this. That was at 11 years old.

At 13, I convinced my parents to drive me to Washington DC for an animal rights’ conference where I met other people in the flesh who are doing this work that just totally inspired me and helped me to start to see the world in a different way: that we can drive positive change, that we can be heart-centered, that we can extend our circle of compassion. And then when I was 15, the case of animal abuse that you mentioned happened and Mercy for Animals grew out of that.

Ari: It's interesting. I hear your story and I'm curious.  So many things seem to be obviously reasonable responses to your experience, yet these are not the same responses as most children have to the pain they see around them, feeling a sense of urgency to address them. What do you think allowed you at those younger ages to feel the possibility of taking action towards it or to go against the prevailing culture around it?

Milo: I think there may have been a number of things. For me, of course, it was just following my heart. It never really felt like there were a lot of conscious choices being made in terms of should I or shouldn't I take action on this. It was really a pull, a deep pull that I followed. It was as if I was following an internal compass. I've had people ask me similar questions to this over the years and thinking or finding something unique or remarkable in it. But to me, it has never felt that way. It really just felt that this was a calling that I had really no choice but to follow.

Upon reflection, I think growing up and feeling different, knowing at a young age that I was different in many ways than the other kids that I interacted with, and then as I got older, realizing that I was gay and facing a lot of oppression and a lot of judgment, bullying, harassment, othering and judgment as a child, especially, 35 years ago in rural Ohio, it was in many ways a different landscape. Children growing up LGBTQ had very few allies in these environments.

Part of my empathy was being able to relate to what it was like to be judged, for what people perceived you as instead of who you actually were. I saw animals being categorized as those who were worthy and those who are not, whether it was dogs and cats on one side, and rats, pigs, chickens on the other. And I think oftentimes people who are victims of abuse or prejudice can empathize on a deeper level with those who face similar oppression. Oftentimes we don't continue that circle to include animals, but for me, they were a safe space. They were the ones who were non-judgmental. They were not going to call me names or bully or harass me. So I think that that was part of it.

I was also very fortunate to have parents who were supportive. I think part of their philosophy and parenting was to support me and support my sister but allow us to form our own paths, to be our own people, to fall and get up. But to be there for us, even if we scrape our knees when we fall down. While they did not really explicitly encourage or push me in this direction, they created the space for me to explore that.  And I see now that not everyone growing up has that support from their family. So I'm really deeply grateful for that as well.

Ari: I'm hearing you talk about this intersectional nature of suffering and how you've made this connection to your own pain and the animals’ pain. But I notice within activist communities that people become so focused on the issue that they care about that they can demean or dismiss other issues. Did you ever go through that process for yourself as you went through this thinking -- about farm animals being the most important issue because of all these reasons, the billions that are affected and the depth of the suffering -- and how has that changed over time, seeing how you prioritize issues or you intersect the different forms of oppression that exist in the world?

Milo: As my journey has continued, I think I have a more holistic approach certainly, moving day by day in that direction, and seeing the interconnectedness of all of these "issues."  And to me, if we view all of these various issues -- whether we say addressing the environment, animal protection, LGBT rights, rights of women and children, as separate issues -- it almost starts to feel like the game of whack-a-mole, where you're constantly trying to hit a different mole that's popping up and another one comes up and you just can't win.

The more we look at it we see that these are all outward manifestations of our inner state and I think it all comes down to connection. The first connection with our own body, mind, spirit, and when we find peace and unconditional love and we find harmony in these spaces, we're able to bring that into the world, and that manifests in our relationships, all of our relationships. Our relationships with our loved ones, with our community, and the broader extensions, a layer of the onion outside of what we might consider as our immediate community, to that of our country, our global world, all humans and then all animals, all of our environment. We see that we all are one and we see the connectedness with all of them. That has been a real journey for me because for a long time it did feel like they were very separate issues and trying to win people over to this issue and that issue. Now I think they're all connected for these reasons and that's why this deeper mindfulness, spiritual work, is so important. Oftentimes the tangible results can be less tangible. But we have to address our inner states to change the outer world.

Ari: I remember -- I think it was maybe 10 years ago, maybe longer -- that you were in Ohio, returning there. You had gone to an LGBT establishment and as you were walking out, you and your friends were beaten up quite badly. I'm curious how that experience, having the direct experience of the physical violence against you, draws a parallel to your work, and how did it change, or did it change, your work as an activist, and your spiritual practice, in any way?  Sometimes events like that can make people bitter and angry or feel victimized, and because you've been an advocate for victims for so long, was that a formative experience?

Milo:   Yes, it was a very, very powerful experience. It was a hate crime, committed by somebody whom I had never met before. The police have never even able to find the person, I had my skull fractured, my nose broken in seven places, I had multiple facial surgeries. It did a number of things. One is it put forward for me how real suffering is. Sometimes when we live in a place of comfort, suffering can become a bit of a hypothetical thing that we talk about in terms of reducing suffering. But at that moment it pushed it back to the forefront how real and how urgent suffering is. I remember back to the day or two after that, getting up out of bed and one of my eyes was completely swollen shut, my nose was completely over to the other side, and thinking I'm never going to be able to look at myself in the mirror again. Part of that was deepening this relationship with my physical vessel and realizing how impermanent appearances are, and taking care of ourselves. But, the deepest lessons for me were about forgiveness. I had a choice that I could make, and that choice was to claim a victim role and take that in as a big part of my identity, being a victim of a hate crime and being angry about that and not resting until there was “justice”, until the person was found, until they were punished, or I could focus on my own healing, physical, mental, emotional healing, and use this as a deep practice of forgiveness, and reach a point of having a real love and sympathy for whoever did this to me and understand that they were likely in their own state of pain, to be in a place where you would attack a perfect stranger and cause such harm to them. Clearly their inner-connection was tormented. That was the choice and I am so glad that I didn't take the punitive approach, partly because it never was solved, as I said, nobody was ever found. I'm at a point now, where I'm actually grateful that this deep teaching came to me. It was incredibly painful, but I think we have a choice in life of how we look at things and for me life has become a series of really rich, beautiful, spiritual lessons, and I think that really is all about our perception and how we choose to greet what comes before us.

Ari: Wow, it's such a powerful story Milo. I'm always curious how I would respond in those scenarios afterwards, because I think about the virtue of forgiveness. The Buddha said that holding a grudge is like grabbing a hot coal to throw at someone --you're the only one who gets hurt. To have that direct experience, and to know how you will respond. You've done a lot of investigations at factory farms, and you’ve seen countless hours of footage, you’ve sent people into the field to actively participate in factory farming so they can record and see what it's like to be there and how the standard practices are done. What is your relationship to the oppressors in that milieu? What's being done by the workers, by their supervisors and the executives that run these companies and those who profit from it -- is forgiveness something accessible to you there, or is that more difficult?

Milo: It is. I think part of wanting to move towards a more heart-centered life and practicing unconditional love and releasing judgment, is something that you can't compartmentalize. That is challenging, especially in a world, in a society, that can feel very polarized and a place where there are pressures to take sides and demonize certain groups. That certainly has a large megaphone right now in our society. The undercover investigations that Mercy for Animals does on a global level is a big part of our work. When a lot of people hear about these investigations and they watch the footage, for anyone with a sense of compassion or empathy, it is really difficult to watch because you know animals are kept in cages where they can hardly move, and you are watching people engage in sometimes sadistic and what looks like malicious acts of violence towards animals. Many people view this footage and they are angry at the workers. They say, “These people should be punished severely” and how sick they must be.

I think there was a time when I shared those beliefs, but the closer that I got to these industries, the clearer I could see that the people working in these facilities are humans, just like you and me, many of them are taking these jobs out of desperation, so that they can support their families, so that they can make ends meet. Very few people aspire to a life working on the kill floor of a slaughterhouse. When you ask children what they want to be when they grow up, that's typically not it. So these are people that sort of do the shadow work, the underbelly jobs of a society who would often rather look the other way. What I have seen first-hand and through our work is that many of these workers suffer themselves very deeply, they suffer not only physically -- carpal tunnel syndrome from working on slaughter lines, being kicked by animals who are thrashing about -- slaughterhouses are one of the most dangerous jobs that there are, but they also suffer emotionally and mentally. The rates of PTSD for slaughterhouse workers and workers on factory farms is incredibly high and we see self-medication, through drug and alcohol abuse within these communities, being incredibly high.  We see that disconnect and that trauma being transferred into the communities and into the homes, with domestic violence and even murder rates being much higher in these communities. So for me, I have found a deeper level of empathy and compassion for those who are caught in this system.

To me, when we talk about the issue of our treatment of animals and our food system, and transforming it, it really is about compassion, not just compassion for animals, but for those who are forced to do work that causes a lot of suffering. I think that can be a difficult way of viewing it when people want to see enemies and monsters and someone to point their finger at for the challenges that we face. It's much harder for us to look at our own actions and see how we may be contributing to this. How do I have compassion and empathy for those who are caught in this system? I think that is the truth. That is the honest way of looking at it, and it requires more courage for us to look for solutions.

Ari: First of all, your answer, Milo, reminds me of the importance of working on yourself before you can answer questions for others. It reminds me a lot of what Gandhi said about change yourself, change the world. Or be the change you wish to see in the world. How much easier it is to tell other people how they need to be different, without first, embodying that difference ourselves.

I have a separate question that I've been struggling with and I am curious as to what your answers are. As you mentioned, there's interconnection between a lot of theories of injustice and harm in the world. I think a lot of people finally have caught on to that. What has come from that is this work around intersectionality -- where people are working on not just one silo issue, but the intersecting problems and issues that relate to each other. This seems to me like a really valuable approach. But what I've seen in that effort is actually a whittling down of smaller and smaller groups of people who meet an acceptable threshold of where they are on their path in order to advocate for the work. So, if you're going to do vegan work, you also have to be really grounded in anti-racism and LGBT support and anti-capitalism work, and fully on all those pages as far as an abolitionist, in order to meet some sort of threshold to be in that club, and that's just the shadow. I'm wondering, how does one navigate? Have you seen this? Do you see this as a solution -- working on intersectionality versus working on single issues you feel most called towards? How does one evade that problem of meeting a rigid requirement in order to do that work? Or the feeling of being judged for where you are on your own path?

Milo: This is such an important question in Service Space and communities of change. It's something that I've certainly witnessed. I think it comes down to the role of judgment and how do we create space for others on their journey. I hear you so loudly in this notion that you have to already be at this place, with this view and if you have ever thought or engaged in something else, you don't meet our “purity filter”. As you said, that really whittles the number of people down to what can start to feel like an exclusive club. To me, this isn't about “purity” or being a club. This is about movements and transformation. It is harder to hold space with someone with whom you don't see eye-to-eye or don't believe that you see eye-to-eye with immediately than it is to create the space and listen and share and release judgment. I think for me, my journey took on a new dimension when I saw the role of judgment that was so prominent in my life. I felt like I always needed to judge everything. I needed to put it into a box of 'good' or 'bad'; 'right' or 'wrong'. That place of judgment carried over to my view of myself. And I realized that the harshest judgment I had was always for myself. That caused a lot of inner turmoil and conflict.

I think it is a deeper practice in unconditional love for those who we might not immediately feel are our allies or potential allies. Once again, I think these can feel like complicated issues and I don't have all of the answers for them. But I think it's good for us to have an awareness of creating space for everyone on their own journeys. Oftentimes what we currently feel is our priority and what we feel is the standard for what a moral or conscious person is, may be very different from someone else's. That takes the level of acknowledging our own shadow; acknowledging that we all have shadows that we're not aware of; and being humble about it. I see that there can be a real leaning towards self-righteousness and an ego that can be based around “I have done or am doing or am already aware of these issues and if you're not then, you're part of the problem”. To me that can be a very isolating space to operate in.

Ari: I think a lot of activists have a difficult time having empathy for those perceived as the oppressors or causing the most harm. Is there a danger that in understanding them so much, forgiving that person, they're forgiving the crime that can be ongoing? Is there a difference? How does one forgive something they're doing that isn't a singular experience? Like what happened to you after you walked out of that establishment in Ohio? It was ongoing. How does that change the way you relate to the ongoing participation in violence?

Milo: I think sometimes there can be a fear that if we're not focused on a punitive approach, we are ignoring the harm or we're ignoring those that are causing harm. And to me that's a false dichotomy. We can acknowledge harm that is being caused and we can say, "This isn't okay. We can do better." But how we choose to address it is really crucial. I think we can look at this in so many areas of society, and factory farming is one manifestation, but the abuse of people in the LGBT community or the women's community or the children, are also manifestations of this. Part of it is having sympathy for those whom we view as the oppressor and getting clarity on where this is coming from. It takes an understanding of that to be able to drive more meaningful change. I always say, "Animal rights is really about human wrongs, and to help more animals, we have to help people." I think in many ways where there is abuse, we have to help the abusers to ultimately help prevent more abuse. The reasons can be varied. Oftentimes, people who engage in violence or abuse are victims of violence and abuse themselves. They are continuing a cycle.

We often like to, again, point that finger and prosecute and persecute and then wipe our hands and say, "Good job," patting ourselves on the back. "We've done it." But I think we have to go back further. We have to say, "Why are people driven to exploit or to abuse? What is it? What is it in their internal state, their internal story, their ways of viewing the world? Where did that originate from? What is it about our society? Is it this view of toxic masculinity? Is it a view that the only two emotions that most men feel that they can express are stoicism and anger? How do we teach young men that it's okay to be sad? How do we help transform the relationship with those emotions?" I think that's where we can start to have a deeper level of societal change, but that takes a lot of internal searching and often that work takes longer. But I think that's how we have a deeper societal change.

Ari: Yes, it does seem like in terms of the harshest wrongs that are done at the state of sheer cruelty, it's mostly men who are participating in it. I think it singles our gender out. To go to a related subject, I recently did my own undercover investigations in India, at some of the slaughterhouses and factory farms and small farms, especially the small farms and the cows that were raised there. (They called these gow-shalas or cow sanctuaries). Some of the things that I sensed as being very hurtful and cruel were being done to animals that people thought that they loved, or were being done very outright in the open where everyone could see. It was quite the opposite in the US where there's a saying that Paul McCartney publicized that, "If slaughterhouses had glass walls everyone would be a vegetarian." You and I both know that isn't true because people see the stuff and then they don't change. Whereas there you have "glass walls" everywhere. And so there's this benefit we have as advocates for these animals -- the effect of showing what goes on and surprising people. So you go there and show it, but it is so done in the broad daylight that they are de-sensitized to it, because it's so pervasive that they see it all the time, and they can't even see the harm that's involved.

I'm curious, as you work in international countries, how do you walk that line between sensationalism, and our defensive de-sensitivities in some ways, to wake people up, and how does that change in cultures and milieus, where it's not a big surprise that this is going on?

Milo: I've had the same experience in India. I've been to those dairy farms and into those gowshalas and I've been to the poultry markets and seen the treatment of animals that would lead to a scandal for a company in the United States and huge backlash and boycotts. In other countries that happens right on the street where people are walking by. I don't have all of the answers on that. I think these become more complex issues.

In India, for example, you'd be walking by those treatments of animals and also walking by homeless children on the street who have very little to eat. Suffering can be all around and I think we are creatures who can become desensitized, our surroundings can become normalized very quickly. Some might call that our ability to adapt and so if you're in a place or a country where humans are having a hard time getting some of their basic needs met, it can feel like it's more of a survival issue and being able to have empathy towards animals feels like a luxury that we're not afforded.

 I think sometimes it also just comes down to an understanding that animals are here with us not for us, that they have a mind, that they feel pain, that they feel emotions, and that they have a consciousness. And I think that truth is not fully embraced yet everywhere in the world. Whether it is religious views or whether it's just this notion that animals are automatons, a view which some people in the US and other countries still hold, if you think that animals are writhing around and that's just a muscular reflex, not because there is an individual suffering, then you won't be impacted by what you see as well. I think that in some places it's just more of a basic deepening of our appreciation for who animals are because you can take two people seeing the exact same thing and one would find it appalling and another would think that it's just a well-run, lucrative business.

Some of that comes down to what we believe is the just treatment for animals. This is an ongoing discussion in the United States. We would do investigations at intensive egg farms where chickens are kept, sometimes five to seven in a cage the size of a folded newspaper. The birds can't spread their wings. We would document that and say this is a problem and the egg industry would say, "But look, the hens are happy and healthy. They're not dead. Mortality rates are in an acceptable form." We're looking at the same thing. We're talking about the same thing, but we consider the freedom of movement for animals, the ability to express their chicken-ness or their pig-ness, as important, where others might say, "they look perfectly happy to us; they have food. They have water. They have protection from the elements. This is great. This is an improvement for them." I think some of that comes down to priorities and what we consider to be acceptable for animals as well.

Ari: Yes. There's a saying I've heard that when our livelihood depends on the harm we create, it becomes almost impossible to see that harm. It's so hard even to have that conversation with someone when their whole life is built upon the ignorance from which they live. Last week I had the honor of attending the 20th anniversary gala for Mercy for Animals, which is the largest farm animal protection group in the world. You've moved on from being executive director there to being on the board in a more minor role in day-to-day operations. You also, about five years ago, founded the Good Food Institute, which is I would argue the most impactful group working on systems change around our food systems, and started this orientation of financial capital flowing through Venture Capitalists and the like, towards transforming the food system from an investment perspective. To me, these are things that you do when you can look back on your life when you're 70, and you think wow, I can't believe I accomplished that. You're 35 and you just had the 20th anniversary gala. What does one do as an encore at this point?

Milo: Yes, that's been the question for me over the last year or so as I've created space. I've allowed myself to sit in the unknown. I realized that there is a price to pay for starting something at a young age and having a laser focus on it. There are so many benefits and so many lessons and such rich growth and a deep sense of fulfillment, in the work and the growth of these organizations, but for me that meant that I skipped the college route and felt like a single parent from a very young age with this organization. There were other interests that I had, other parts of my being, other parts of viewing the world and exploring my spirituality, that I felt I just wasn't able to do under what often felt like the pressure cooker of being in such a prominent role with growing organizations. For me that has meant traveling the world and being exposed to more cultures and ideas and ways of thinking and trying to broaden my own understanding of this human experience that we're having. To just allow myself to be. That's meant diving into meditation and doing Vipassana meditation retreats and becoming a certified yoga trainer and exploring plant medicines and shamanic practices, because as we talked about, I think it's so important for us to focus on the inner state to affect the outward manifestation of everything that we see and interact with in the world.

Our world is hurting right now in so many different ways, but the threat of climate change is urgent. It is a crisis. I think that is the largest global manifestation of the disconnect that we have internally. That has been such a powerful journey for me. I feel like I'm now coming back into a state of rajah, of the energy of doing after a much-needed time of being and reflecting. I think oftentimes we view our lives as the moments of doing but it's really the gradations in between that where some of the biggest change and transformation can come. I'm being called to go into the for-profit space, but the main interests of mine are of course food, and food as a way of transforming our health, our environment, our relationship with other creatures on this planet, agriculture, packaging -- plastic is such a large issue polluting our oceans. Billions of fish and birds and marine mammals are now consuming plastic. Our garbage is a manifestation, I think, of our overconsumption, but I think that there's a real opportunity to address that issue. Another main interest of mine, which to me is really the Holy Grail, is human consciousness and connection. When I look at those areas and look for common threads, I find that in mycelium and mushrooms. There's so much incredible work being done, and I think much more opportunity, in using mushrooms as meat alternatives in the food space, to use it to support regenerative agriculture. There's so much incredible work and opportunity in mushrooms being used to create packaging and there's initial research showing that mushrooms, including oyster mushrooms, can actually digest plastic. There's a lot of exciting work happening with psilocybin mushrooms to treat PTSD, fear of death, and addiction. The research which Michael Pollan has written about so beautifully on how to change your mind is showing how we can quiet down the default mode network of our brain to allow the rest of it to communicate and see the world in a bit of a new way, to think differently, creatively. We're seeing through guided treatment the ability to really heal ourselves from emotional trauma, trapped energy that we haven't addressed. I'm being called to move into that space. I don't have a master plan yet, but I have this inspiration and excitement to explore it more. So any listeners, anyone who says, "That's really cool. I have somebody that Milo should meet," or "I'm that person" or "Here's somebody you should think about," that's the stage of the journey that I'm at right now. I'd be really grateful for any guidance there.

Ari: I'm guessing in the ServiceSpace ecology there are a few people who have or are continuing to look into this space of how to use nature and mimic nature to address consciousness shifts and are becoming  not just a sustainable human presence to the planet, but a regenerative human presence in the plant. This seems really for me like what you called the Holy Grail, this intersection of those qualities. We get caught up as humans in being less destructive, less bad for the planet, which isn't really the most inspirational thing. How can I be less bad? Well, you could kill yourself and offer yourself and you would therefore be net zero, right? If the highest we can aspire to as a species is to be less bad and therefore not being born, then it doesn't really speak to what our greatest potential is. I think what I'm hearing you say is how does our presence actually contribute to our whole ecosystems thriving more than they would have otherwise without us.

Milo: Absolutely.

Ari: There's a quote that I've really enjoyed from my friend, Nipun Mehta, who is also founder of Service Space. He says, "As you build the road, the road builds you." Even building an important road, a highway, say an animal advocacy or environmental advocacy, as you have built that road, how have you been built? How have you been transformed? How are you different now than you were five years ago, 15 years ago, or 20 years ago, when you started? How has that been made possible through your work as an activist and through your work as an advocate?

Milo: As we've talked about my starting the organization at 15, I feel like I've been completely built with it. It has been such a teacher for me. One is that it's been very humbling. Often times, we get a flash and we think that we have the solution or we can get a lot of pride that can manifest itself as judgment and ego, and it's been a constant checking of that. It's like the more you know, the more you realize that you don't know, and being open to constant learning and to constantly looking for your own shadows and finding a joy in that journey. For me, it's also a realization that we can find joy in the service that it is a matter of human connection and relationships. In this organization and movement is a series of relationships and in reflecting on the people that have come into my life, Ari, you are one of the most pivotal. Also, challenging my own way of thinking and finding where my limiting beliefs of self and life are. I think also it has transformed me because it has put me so close to death. This work of animal protection and environmental protection is that you're facing slaughterhouse lines and literally billions of animals being killed every year. How do you maintain love and hope and inspiration through that? How do you see the world not as black and white, but celebrate the greatness of it. I think when we're able to celebrate the greatness in life, we're able to see that other people are not just enemies or bad guys, but that they are often doing the best that they can with what they have. It's in that unfolding of that awareness that we're able to have a deeper level of empathy and compassion, and even love, and especially love for others who maybe at some point in my life I've felt only anger or fear towards.

Ari: Are there stories that come to mind that can serve as concrete examples of goodness that is going on in the midst of the challenges?

Milo: I think there are several examples, but one to share is a few years ago, Mercy for Animals sent an investigator into a Purdue chicken factory farm. Purdue is one of the largest chicken producing companies in the entire country using and slaughtering about 700 million birds every year. Through that investigation, we documented the standard conditions, which to us are really appalling: birds kept in these windowless warehouses where they can hardly move; genetically altered where they have a hard time walking; and physical mistreatment with workers throwing birds up against the walls, etc. We went to the company with this. We also released it to the public. But after that investigation, Jim Perdue, who was the owner of the company, was really moved by what was documented. He was disturbed and it started a dialogue with Jim Purdue, Mercy for Animals, and a few other organizations. First we were very apprehensive about where this would go. We questioned that anyone in this position in this company could have a genuine interest in doing what we viewed as progress. Over time and various meetings, a relationship developed between Jim Purdue and Leah Garcia, who is now the president of Mercy for Animals. They made an announcement which sent ripples throughout the entire chicken industry, that they were going to adopt a precedent-setting set of animal welfare changes. That was a huge deal and it's still a huge deal. They're still implementing it. It's opened the door for improvements to take place that will affect many millions of other birds. But it didn't stop at that announcement. It didn't stop at just them saying we're going to do this. Jim has continued his relationship with Leah. He actually flew with his wife to London to speak at a conference on farm animal welfare. He said he's getting a lot of slack for doing this from within the poultry industry.

They don't like that he has formed these relationships and looks at these issues in a new way. And a few weeks ago, probably a few months ago at this point, Perdue announced that they would be the first large poultry producer that would be using a plant-based protein blend with their chicken meat and products. If this is adopted widely it could dramatically reduce the number of animals used in meat production, and would have a powerful impact on our environment. There's discussion now that Perdue may be launching their own entirely plant-based, meat alternative lines. To me this is an example of how if we only view people in black and white terms, good or bad, ally or enemy, we can dramatically reduce the ability to find common ground. And we limit the access that people have to other ways of thinking. When we suspend that judgment and we see another human being in front of us who has a heart and mind and is looking to protect our planet as well, it's in that space where really incredible things can happen.

I think the Perdue story is one of them. Leah has written a book recently called Grilled. It's about unlikely allies, especially in the poultry industry. We see this at Mercy for Animals all the time, these stories of transformation. To me, transformation is always about people traveling from what we might view as the black or white area into the gray zone, and challenging their ways of thinking and seeing the world. There are so many stories of people who used to run factory farms and now are raising mushrooms or other plant products. That's just one example, but to me, it's a powerful one.

Ari: I just want to also share how instrumental you've been in my own journey as well Milo. I came across one of the first videos you created when you were still a teenager, called Behind Closed Doors. I wanted to help support putting it on the air and it started to allow me to see how I can use my financial capital to become transformative compassion capital in the world, and to see how I can use this skill that I had which is in its conventional form of using conventional currency to grow the heart, grow my own heart, and be transformed by how I can serve. Then years later when I was thinking about leaving the business world, thinking that I wanted to work in non-profit area, you encouraged me to stay working in the business world, knowing that I didn't need to be handing out leaflets or filming at a slaughterhouse to be a contributor. I could do that in the world. This movement needed me and I could serve just as well from where I was coming from. In fact, maybe that's where my transformation could come from, is integrating my service in the world with being in the world of finance and business. So thank you for supporting my journey in so many ways as we will continue to, hopefully, for decades to come.