…but it’s not pretty
The street is bustling. It is the end of the day and everyone is equally preoccupied with making it back to the comfort of home. In the midst of this busy scene, I do not typically take the time to remark upon the others who are also rushing to leave work or school. Yet, as I was caught in the flood of rushing pedestrians last week, something caught my eye. It was a book bag, nothing extravagant, but emblazoned upon it was a bold message: “KEEP THE OIL IN THE GROUND—SAVE THE BABIES,” and it made me start to think. Surely the bag was not intended to be terribly provocative. If anything, it was pretty, with a proud message worked into a beautiful piece of art—a woman with flowing hair and outstretched arms. Though nice to look at, I cannot help but think that this attractive, aesthetically pleasing representation of an environmentally friendly standpoint is the root of the problem. The environmentalist movement is often associated with a wholesome and spiritually nourishing lifestyle. These associations are frequently represented by creative expression that speaks to a sense of free-spiritedness, unfettered grace, and a heightened awareness of rapidly approaching environmental tragedy. The drawing accompanying the message on the woman’s bag is a perfect example of this phenomenon. Keep in mind that I am a strong believer that being environmentally conscious can lead to a more well-rounded lifestyle. I am vegetarian for environmental reasons, and I make a conscious effort to limit my carbon footprint. Yet, even though I am the target demographic for this aesthetically pleasing green wave, I cannot help but think that it is deeply flawed.
This virtuous representation of environmentalism, while something I agree with, is missing a big part of the picture. The value and practice of environmentalism cannot be fully upheld when it becomes nothing more than an accessory. It is easy for me to condemn those who choose to display their allegiance to the Earth via pins, patches, and bags, but the accessorizing of environmentalism goes even deeper than that. The representation of vegetarianism, and even veganism (yes, I went there), as being the ceiling of individual-scale environmentalism is fundamentally problematic. True environmental consciousness requires a near complete rethinking of how we approach consumption. We must force ourselves to confront the many ways in which we may not be “Patron Saints of the Environment”—in fact, we might just be the opposite. I felt very comfortable with my contributions to the environmental movement until recently. I figured that because I was a vegetarian, I was reducing my carbon footprint significantly more than other people are. I was making a compromise at the expense of my own culinary enjoyment, and that should be enough…but was it? I started to dig deeper in order to reflect more profoundly and criticize the ways in which I consume. Now, although it may sound like a simple and obvious conclusion, I realized that while I am exercising vegetarianism, there are many things I have not been doing. With a healthy dose of self-criticism, it occurred to me I had probably made a few too many Amazon orders and purchased more than my fair share of non-reusable Starbucks cups to claim that I am in no way guilty of environmental negligence. This realization was difficult and awkward, but more than anything, it felt like a breakthrough. Suddenly, I understood: if it is comfortable, it is not environmentalism.
In order to truly become stewards of the Earth, we must completely revamp the ways in which we approach consumption. Every day should be a challenge to consume as responsibly as possible, seeing as a true commitment to bettering the Earth involves instilling environmentalism into everyday actions. I am not just saying, “All you need to do is recycle your non-reusable cups and don’t litter!” Instead of telling ourselves we will always recycle our coffee cups (disposable coffee cups are non-recyclable, by the way), we have to stop buying non-reusable cups altogether. The same is true of tempting and convenient trips to the Eaton Centre, because we must acknowledge the massive carbon footprint of fast fashion and stop supporting such a harmful industry (if you want to learn more about the environmentally destructive fast fashion industry, you can access a copy of Fashionopolis by Dana Thomas… on Amazon.) These may sound like minor, easy changes. Yet, between occasionally employing non-sustainable practices and ceasing to do so entirely, the chasm between “sometimes” and “never” becomes clear. The great importance of completely cutting out small but environmentally destructive habits should not be doubted. The key is that these habits must be 100 percent unlearned. The urgency of the climate crisis leaves no wiggle-room for 98 percent commitments. It is this heightened level of complete devotion to reducing one’s carbon footprint that defines true environmentalism.
It is precisely because of the difficult nature of fulfilling a pledge to the Earth that the attractive bundling of environmentalism is so concerning. Displaying a sustainable lifestyle as being a keenly aware and empathetic person is not only an oversimplification of what constitutes an environmental commitment, it is a lie. True environmentalism reaches much deeper than going to Metro with reusable bags and requires profound lifestyle changes. These changes are challenging and do not align at all with an aesthetic, subdued representation of environmentalism. If we are to be true environmentalists, the Earth must be the priority when it comes to every single action that impacts an individual’s carbon footprint, without exception. Operating under this logic, I have been thinking about what I am willing to live without in order to lessen the weight of my own carbon footprint. It has become clear that at its core, environmentalism is a matter of defining what a person does and does not need. If environmentalism demands that we differentiate between a luxury and a necessity, what are you willing to give up?