Hi, friends.
I experienced an interesting phenomena last week: After posting The Global Consumer Class is Wrecking the Planet, I lost a handful of subscribers. Not enough to set off alarm bells, but enough to make me wonder what was up. And while I’m open to the possibility that my writing was sucky, my e-mail was sent too early in the morning, or a few people really disliked my Grinch imagery… I think there was something else at play: As humans, we naturally want to experience only problems that are small enough for us to solve. It’s the same reason I don’t always open climate related headlines (even though, hello, I’m literally a climate-adjacent newsletter): I know it’s real. I don’t doubt the scientific integrity of the study or the human suffering of the latest disaster. I’m just not equipped to go down an anxiety spiral before my morning coffee.
And beyond that, we don’t want to think of ourselves as the problem— especially if there isn’t an easy solution in sight. My oldest, who is super into sea turtles, was excited that we recently checked out Michelle Lord’s The Mess That We Made from the library. It’s repetitive and strangely soothing: “We are the people at work and at play, that stuff the landfill, growing each day, that spills the plastic thrown away, that traps the turtle, green and gray… that swims in the mess that we made.” Crucially, though, it had an age-appropriate Win at the end: “BUT… we are the ones who can save the day.” Without the win, the story flops— because then we’re all just wrecking the planet, and who knows what comes next?
So here’s the good news, as it relates to us adults: I think that as individuals, we are (sometimes) the problem, but because we are the problem, we are also— I know, hang with me to the end here— the solution.
Guilt is a Weak Political Emotion
It’s easy to pretend that we are observers in the system— watching elite ‘others’ and ‘multi-billion dollar corporations’ and ‘100 companies’ act irresponsibly with Earth’s resources. It’s a lot harder to acknowledge that we, too, are participants in the system. Especially because the feeling this is most likely to elicit is guilt.
As Moira Weigel wrote in the New York Times, “…guilt is a weak political emotion. In my experience, it can easily lose out to the 3 a.m. realization that Baby Two has soaked through her sleepsack and we need more Huggies Overnites ASAP.”
While Weigel was specifically referring to ordering from Amazon, it’s an interesting turn of phrase that has kept me thinking for almost two years: Guilt is a weak political emotion.
But I think this is the explanation: Outrage is an easy political emotion. If I’m outraged, that means that I have been wronged by someone else. I have no culpability. Outrage is also convenient, because I can take my grievances to social media for attention and likes. I can get sympathy from friends. I can wallow in self-pity or treat myself to a $6 latte to brighten my mood.
Guilt, on the other hand? Well, that means that I’m the problem. Nobody (myself included) wants to think of themselves as doing something ‘immoral’ or ‘socially unacceptable.’
If I am the person who is personally exploiting child labor to make $3 t-shirts— or the CEO of the hundreds of brands that turn a blind eye— then I should absolutely feel horrendously guilty for that decision.
But for the rest of us? The world exists in trickier shades of grey. I care deeply for the environment, but I still purchased airline tickets this year. I abhor child labor, but not every cereal product and household appliance in my home comes from a thoroughly vetted supply chain. I believe in supporting green energy transitions, but I can’t guarantee that every financial institution I interact with reflects that belief. Humans are complicated— and so are the practical demands of real life.
I know some people use this reality to throw up their hands and blame the system: “There’s no ethical consumption under capitalism!” But when you use that excuse to justify $300 Shein hauls or the Stanley Cup craze, you’re obscuring the reality that your decisions matter.
And it’s not about making perfect decisions. It’s about making better decisions.
What do ‘better decisions’ look like?
That’s for you to decide, based on your lifestyle, budget, and priorities. If you are struggling to make ends meet— like, you don’t know where your rent or your dinner will come from— then of course you have more important priorities in the short term. But for many of us, lifestyle inflation can obscure the fact that we aren’t paying the true price for our products— — the cost that offers workers a living wage, that minimizes deforestation and plastic pollution, that actively seeks to give back to the community.
Sometimes, that means shopping organic. Or fair trade. Or local.
Sometimes that means switching to a renewable energy provider for your home, even if you aren’t fully divested from the banks that fund fossil fuels.
Maybe it’s buying a hybrid vehicle. Or maybe it’s driving the vehicle you have for 8 years instead of 3.
We put a lot of effort into figuring out the ‘better’ purchase for people and the environment, but I also don’t want to obscure the fact that the best environmental purchase you can make is none at all.
Fact: What We Buy Matters
I promised you this week that we would dive in to what, exactly, makes change feel possible. And please know that I will get there lickety-split.
But to do that, I have to spend just a moment outlining the climate and trash crisis isn’t just in the realm of big businesses.
Sure, I’m not out there obnoxiously draining trillions of gallons of water from vulnerable aquifers to sustain my fracking habit. But that oil is used to get my car from one place to another. I’m not personally overseeing cobalt mines in the Congo, but this exploitation of workers and the environment powers my cell phone and laptop.
And the impact of our collective shopping adds up. As J.B. Mackinnon notes, “The impacts of shopping are often under estimated, because they’re distributed across categories: apparel, electronics, appliances, and so on… [In fact] in a recent study of greenhouse gas emissions related to consumption in nearly a hundred major cities around the world, these categories, taken together, rival food and private transport.”¹
In fact, “consumer activity ends up being responsible for more than 80 percent of energy emission and CO2 emitted in the United States”² This total isn’t just what you see when you flip on your lights or take your trash to the curb; it includes the embodied carbon of the products you purchase, from a car to a couch. If you are looking for a great explanation of embodied carbon, I would highly recommend Living the 1.5 Degree Lifestyle by
(who also has an upcoming book devoted to the concept— The Story of Upfront Carbon).Focus on Micro-Changes that Make Big Wins
Lots of small shifts add up— and you can often find a win-win situation for yourself and the environment. For example, switching to a renewable energy provider not only reduces carbon emissions but is often less expensive than the fossil-fuel dependent plan your energy provider likely enrolled you in automatically. Straightforward steps like reducing your meat consumption and getting a handle on that pesky junk mail can make a tangible impact on deforestation.
Easy swaps like bringing reusable bags or refusing single-use plastic can reduce your environmental footprint— and even when your little shifts don’t seem to matter at an individual level, they matter on a broader social scale.
In fact, framing climate solutions not just as practical— such as improving efficiency or advancing technology— but as social processes rooted in community is key to success. Think of it like ‘peer pressure for good.’ And the good news? In addition to understanding change as a social process, taking agency— or feeling like there is a path forward for you to make a difference— is key to success. So instead of waking up tomorrow and declaring your zero-waste lifestyle or renouncing your vehicle, take those small, manageable steps to do just 1% better, and 1% better after that.
The other shift that really seems to matter for better climate outcomes is a mental shift: a shift to an understanding of “enough.”
An acknowledgement that we live in societies that have, on average, far more than they need, and more than the Earth can produce. An acknowledgement that the fast-paced culture of the latest gadget, daily shopping hauls, highly processed diets, and more TVs than people is undermining our true needs of connection and community.
I touched on this issue last week, but our brains aren’t yet hard-wired to understand the challenges of modern life. As Duhaime astutely notes the mis-match between “contemporary life” and our biological reward schedules can create “malaise, boredom and ennui, and pessimism”— and of course the consumer crisis. But, as she notes, “we simply do not have entrenched, old-growth, long-shaped powerful circuits [in the brain] that say, ‘Yuck! Too much stuff! Too much fossil fuel use! Too much unnaturally stimulating addictive entertainment! Alert, alert!’”³ And although our brains can adjust and thrive in a lifestyle of fewer shopping-induced dopamine hits, it’s not realistic to expect those mental rewards to kick in instantaneously.
You Catch More Flies With Honey Than Vinegar
I wrote an e-mail to a company recently. It’s something I did a lot a few years ago, but with a ramped up writing schedule and the demands of two-kiddos-under-3, it hasn’t exactly been on my weekly agenda.
Hi! I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate having a recycling option for Cerebelly products-- my family is very intentional about limiting waste (which, as the mom of a preschooler and toddler, is no walk in the park!). We have used your pouches and now Smart Bars-- and I can say the definitive thing that keeps me coming back to Cerebelly over competitors like Yumi is the ability to recycle with TerraCycle. Of course, it would be great to see a move to fully compostable packaging, but I just wanted to share how much I as a consumer appreciate the intentional steps you are taking to consider the 'end of life' for your product packaging.
You’ll notice I did a few things here: I slipped in an ask— I would love to see compostable packaging. And I had sincere praise for a company that has gone above and beyond its competitors. Does that make the company perfect? No. But I’m not perfect either.
You’ll also notice something that was missing: Outrage, irritation, and exasperation. Not that there isn’t room in advocacy for these emotions— but as any born-and-bred U.S. Southerner would say, “you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Might as well be kind while moving the needle ‘just a little.’ And sure enough, customer service was flattered by the comment— and I made sure the company knew that their sustainability efforts mattered to their customers (ie., don’t get rid of them!)
Of course, there are limits to this practice. I can’t e-mail Exxon with a “pretty please stop fracking in my backyard” and expect not to be laughed out of town. Plenty of necessary environmental shifts will require legislation, finding corporate wins, protest, and and public pressure.
But I also think we underestimate our power as consumers in the collective sense. For example, Starbucks recently became the first national coffee chain to allow reusable cups in drive thru and mobile orders— while this singular move won’t eliminate the disposable cup crisis, you can bet it happened in response to customer feedback (and, of course, the reality is that what’s better for the environment is also better for the company’s pocketbooks). But understanding— and leveraging— the small ways that we can use our voice for good really matters. So if you don’t have the bandwidth to make a personal change this week, try spending two minutes shouting out the good that your neighbor, a favorite company, or a local small business is doing.
I’m here because I believe that what we do matters for our ourselves, our communities, and the climate.
Thank you for hanging out with me on the journey.
A quick favor to ask: If you enjoyed this post— or my writing in general— I’d love if you clicked ‘like’, re-stacked on the app, or forwarded this e-mail to a friend. Sharing is caring, and your word of mouth makes all the difference for a small publication like mine. I deeply appreciate it!
¹ J.B. Mackinnon. The Day the World Stops Shopping: How Ending Consumerism Saves the Environment and Ourselves. Page 197.
²Ann-Christine Duhaime, M.D. Minding the Climate: How Neuroscience Can Help Solve Our Environmental Crisis. Page 126.
³ Ibid., 119-120.
All books linked today are Bookshop Affiliate links, because a) these books are wonderful, highly recommend, and b) a girl’s gotta eat. :)
I absolutely love every post you have. So thought provoking and on the money. I so agree with you on the butterfly effect; one small act of ours can create a tsunami elsewhere. Lets make that change a positive one. As a fellow western pa girl (hey neighbor I am outside of the Pittsburgh area) I have seen the fracking boom here and it breaks my heart. Also on a side note, to all those people who unsubscribed to you well their loss. If you hit on a nerve then good--we need to hit nerves until the exploitation of this beautiful planet we call home stops. Keep sharing your thoughts because I find them inspiring!
Amanda-- thank you so much; you always leave the most kind comments! I like the description of it as “hitting a nerve” with others!