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A year of ethical living revisited A year of ethical living revisited
(2 days later)
It all began for me more than a decade ago, with the "mangetout moment"; a passing conversation with my editor at the Guardian about those pangs of consumer guilt that wash over us, but upon which we rarely act. Those moments when, for example, you pick up a plastic-wrapped packet of mangetout in a supermarket, fleetingly dwell on their food miles or the likely exploitative wage of the Kenyan farmer who grew them, but still pop them into your shopping basket and shuffle towards the next aisle.It all began for me more than a decade ago, with the "mangetout moment"; a passing conversation with my editor at the Guardian about those pangs of consumer guilt that wash over us, but upon which we rarely act. Those moments when, for example, you pick up a plastic-wrapped packet of mangetout in a supermarket, fleetingly dwell on their food miles or the likely exploitative wage of the Kenyan farmer who grew them, but still pop them into your shopping basket and shuffle towards the next aisle.
That flash of consideration; those seconds of empathy: ruthlessly and efficiently purged by a brain keen to move on to the next task, albeit usually something mundane, such as "hurry up, you need to get home – the football starts at 7.30pm".That flash of consideration; those seconds of empathy: ruthlessly and efficiently purged by a brain keen to move on to the next task, albeit usually something mundane, such as "hurry up, you need to get home – the football starts at 7.30pm".
What is it that makes us calibrate life's priorities in this way? As I later wrote in my book, A Life Stripped Bare: "The irony of our western lifestyle, of course, is not that we are blissfully ignorant of the negative impact it has on ourselves, our neighbours and the environment, but that we choose to journey on regardless, blinded by a convenient fog of inertia and apathy."What is it that makes us calibrate life's priorities in this way? As I later wrote in my book, A Life Stripped Bare: "The irony of our western lifestyle, of course, is not that we are blissfully ignorant of the negative impact it has on ourselves, our neighbours and the environment, but that we choose to journey on regardless, blinded by a convenient fog of inertia and apathy."
This somewhat meta conversation with my editor quickly spiralled out of control to the point that, a few days later, I was standing before my wife, Jane, nervously trying to rouse the courage to tell her what I'd been asked to do. Or, more accurately, what we had both been asked to do.This somewhat meta conversation with my editor quickly spiralled out of control to the point that, a few days later, I was standing before my wife, Jane, nervously trying to rouse the courage to tell her what I'd been asked to do. Or, more accurately, what we had both been asked to do.
The plan was simple: we were to undertake a year of "ethical living" and I would then relay our experience to Guardian readers. To say Jane wasn't exactly sold on the idea would be an understatement; in fact, the uncouth word she used to express her feelings rang loud in my ears for the next 12 months. My task wasn't made any easier by the fact we had just had our first child.The plan was simple: we were to undertake a year of "ethical living" and I would then relay our experience to Guardian readers. To say Jane wasn't exactly sold on the idea would be an understatement; in fact, the uncouth word she used to express her feelings rang loud in my ears for the next 12 months. My task wasn't made any easier by the fact we had just had our first child.
Jane did, slowly, come round to the idea – sort of – but she continued to ask a pertinent question: what exactly is "ethical living"? People still ask me this today and it continues to be a challenging question to answer.Jane did, slowly, come round to the idea – sort of – but she continued to ask a pertinent question: what exactly is "ethical living"? People still ask me this today and it continues to be a challenging question to answer.
It is a far-from-satisfactory term that is shorthand for seeing whether you can make changes to your lifestyle that lead to a more positive impact on the people and environment around you. But, clearly, each of us will have our own view on what constitutes an "ethical" lifestyle, determined, in large part, by our unique circumstances (location, income, job, age, politics, etc). So our experiment was never framed as anything other than a personal journey. It certainly was never meant to be a finger-wagging sermon – more a fumble and a feel through some of modern life's most chewy dilemmas.It is a far-from-satisfactory term that is shorthand for seeing whether you can make changes to your lifestyle that lead to a more positive impact on the people and environment around you. But, clearly, each of us will have our own view on what constitutes an "ethical" lifestyle, determined, in large part, by our unique circumstances (location, income, job, age, politics, etc). So our experiment was never framed as anything other than a personal journey. It certainly was never meant to be a finger-wagging sermon – more a fumble and a feel through some of modern life's most chewy dilemmas.
I soon realised, though, that we would need some guidance. To reassess and analyse your entire life is a tad daunting, to say the least. So I recruited some "ethical auditors" to visit our home in south London to establish some kind of baseline from which to launch our year-long experiment.I soon realised, though, that we would need some guidance. To reassess and analyse your entire life is a tad daunting, to say the least. So I recruited some "ethical auditors" to visit our home in south London to establish some kind of baseline from which to launch our year-long experiment.
One morning in spring 2003, three people in turn knocked on our front door: Renée Elliott, founder of the Planet Organic shops and council member of the Soil Association; Mike Childs, campaigns director at Friends of the Earth; and Hannah Berry, a writer and researcher at Ethical Consumer magazine. I hoped they could provide the spur for Jane and I to think more deeply about three key areas: the food we eat, the environmental damage our lifestyle choices can cause, and the influence big corporations and government hold over us.One morning in spring 2003, three people in turn knocked on our front door: Renée Elliott, founder of the Planet Organic shops and council member of the Soil Association; Mike Childs, campaigns director at Friends of the Earth; and Hannah Berry, a writer and researcher at Ethical Consumer magazine. I hoped they could provide the spur for Jane and I to think more deeply about three key areas: the food we eat, the environmental damage our lifestyle choices can cause, and the influence big corporations and government hold over us.
Looking back on that day, 11 years ago, it strikes me how much this debate has moved on – but, equally, how much of what we discussed is as pertinent now as it was then.Looking back on that day, 11 years ago, it strikes me how much this debate has moved on – but, equally, how much of what we discussed is as pertinent now as it was then.
Food miles is a good example of an issue that seemed much more binary back then. Food miles were bad. The thesis was clear: we should try to source as much of our food from as close to us as possible to help reduce transport-related emissions.Food miles is a good example of an issue that seemed much more binary back then. Food miles were bad. The thesis was clear: we should try to source as much of our food from as close to us as possible to help reduce transport-related emissions.
This idea has been challenged somewhat in the intervening years, not least because our appetite for non-seasonal produce means a tomato, say, grown indoors in the UK can have higher "embedded" emissions than a tomato grown outdoors in Spain and then trucked to the UK. However, the lesson from this seemed to be that eating seasonally was more important than eating locally, if reducing emissions was your goal.This idea has been challenged somewhat in the intervening years, not least because our appetite for non-seasonal produce means a tomato, say, grown indoors in the UK can have higher "embedded" emissions than a tomato grown outdoors in Spain and then trucked to the UK. However, the lesson from this seemed to be that eating seasonally was more important than eating locally, if reducing emissions was your goal.
The other hard-learned lesson, early on, was that these things are invariably more complicated and vexing than you first assume. Of course, there were many other things to feed into the equation besides emissions – as my ethical auditors were keen to remind me. What about reducing food and packaging waste? What about the use of pesticides? What about the impact supermarkets have on farmers, here and abroad. It was like squeezing a balloon: sort out one issue and up pops another.The other hard-learned lesson, early on, was that these things are invariably more complicated and vexing than you first assume. Of course, there were many other things to feed into the equation besides emissions – as my ethical auditors were keen to remind me. What about reducing food and packaging waste? What about the use of pesticides? What about the impact supermarkets have on farmers, here and abroad. It was like squeezing a balloon: sort out one issue and up pops another.
It wasn't just the ethical auditors who were trying to guide us to the centre of the circular maze. I was also writing an online diary for the Guardian website. This was in the days before readers could post comments under articles or tweet you – an age of innocence, as any journalist today will testify – but I had supplied an email address. This led to more than 600 emails and letters from readers all over the world.It wasn't just the ethical auditors who were trying to guide us to the centre of the circular maze. I was also writing an online diary for the Guardian website. This was in the days before readers could post comments under articles or tweet you – an age of innocence, as any journalist today will testify – but I had supplied an email address. This led to more than 600 emails and letters from readers all over the world.
Most correspondents were encouraging and generous with their advice and tales from their own adventures in ethical living. Other letters, despite the best of intentions, were less successful. In a spectacularly misjudged effort to win over Jane, a woman from Derbyshire wrote to enthusiastically explain how she hung her "washable menstrual products" out to dry from the guy rope when camping. Foolishly, I relayed this suggestion to Jane. Her response was swift: "Sure," she said. "If you're prepared to wash them."Most correspondents were encouraging and generous with their advice and tales from their own adventures in ethical living. Other letters, despite the best of intentions, were less successful. In a spectacularly misjudged effort to win over Jane, a woman from Derbyshire wrote to enthusiastically explain how she hung her "washable menstrual products" out to dry from the guy rope when camping. Foolishly, I relayed this suggestion to Jane. Her response was swift: "Sure," she said. "If you're prepared to wash them."
One of the first decisions Jane and I took was to order a weekly box of fruit and veg from a delivery scheme. It was our attempt to break free from the shackles of the supermarket, give our money direct to farmers, reduce packaging waste and, perhaps most importantly for us, to eat more seasonally.One of the first decisions Jane and I took was to order a weekly box of fruit and veg from a delivery scheme. It was our attempt to break free from the shackles of the supermarket, give our money direct to farmers, reduce packaging waste and, perhaps most importantly for us, to eat more seasonally.
At the time, there was genuine curiosity from our friends and family. Today, though, it seems a far less radical notion, with box schemes normalised for many people, especially those who live in cities. But, at the time, it felt like a genuine revolution in our lives – and something we continue to do.At the time, there was genuine curiosity from our friends and family. Today, though, it seems a far less radical notion, with box schemes normalised for many people, especially those who live in cities. But, at the time, it felt like a genuine revolution in our lives – and something we continue to do.
Another big success was gardening. Then, we had a small backyard and the space to grow a few herbs and veg. It was largely tokenistic (we were never going to be self-sufficient in Brixton), but it was also good fun and tuned us into the changing seasons. A few years later, we moved to Cornwall, where I had grown up, and were able to undertake a much more ambitious effort to emulate Tom and Barbara's Good Life. We planted a vegetable patch and fruit trees, bought some chickens and – for one memorable year – even raised four pigs. Having young children around to share this with made it all the more enjoyable.Another big success was gardening. Then, we had a small backyard and the space to grow a few herbs and veg. It was largely tokenistic (we were never going to be self-sufficient in Brixton), but it was also good fun and tuned us into the changing seasons. A few years later, we moved to Cornwall, where I had grown up, and were able to undertake a much more ambitious effort to emulate Tom and Barbara's Good Life. We planted a vegetable patch and fruit trees, bought some chickens and – for one memorable year – even raised four pigs. Having young children around to share this with made it all the more enjoyable.
But our "ethical living" experiment was not entirely a bed of organically manured, non-imported roses. One area in which we struggled was the issue of transport. During the year-long experiment, living in London meant it was easy to rely on buses, bikes, tubes, trains and car clubs. But when we moved to Cornwall, things changed dramatically.But our "ethical living" experiment was not entirely a bed of organically manured, non-imported roses. One area in which we struggled was the issue of transport. During the year-long experiment, living in London meant it was easy to rely on buses, bikes, tubes, trains and car clubs. But when we moved to Cornwall, things changed dramatically.
Rural life without your own motorised transport is a challenge, especially in an undulating county such as Cornwall. For the first time in our lives, we bought a car. We investigated all the options, but in the end went for one that ran on LPG (liquid petroleum gas). A fossil fuel, yes, but one that has lower emissions than petrol or diesel. Electric was too pricey an option and range was a niggling concern, as was later confirmed when I test drove an electric Mini in 2011. It was just the sort of compromise that so many of the people who wrote to me said they had been forced to make. Best intentions scythed down by the twin sickles of pragmatism and penny-pinching.Rural life without your own motorised transport is a challenge, especially in an undulating county such as Cornwall. For the first time in our lives, we bought a car. We investigated all the options, but in the end went for one that ran on LPG (liquid petroleum gas). A fossil fuel, yes, but one that has lower emissions than petrol or diesel. Electric was too pricey an option and range was a niggling concern, as was later confirmed when I test drove an electric Mini in 2011. It was just the sort of compromise that so many of the people who wrote to me said they had been forced to make. Best intentions scythed down by the twin sickles of pragmatism and penny-pinching.
Holidays were a struggle, too. Before the experiment began (and before children), we had enjoyed the sorts of European trips that budget airlines enable. But one of the first challenges set by our ethical auditors was to see if we could book one of our "normal" holidays without using a plane or a hire car.Holidays were a struggle, too. Before the experiment began (and before children), we had enjoyed the sorts of European trips that budget airlines enable. But one of the first challenges set by our ethical auditors was to see if we could book one of our "normal" holidays without using a plane or a hire car.
This resulted in a sleeper train to Italy and a walking holiday through Umbria. Bliss on paper, but, with a baby, it proved to be something of a challenge, not least because many of the locals thought it was bordering on child neglect to be walking with a baby strapped to my chest in 30C-plus heat. They probably had a point. The cost of the train was also considerably more expensive than going by plane – something that still irritates me to this day. If you are ever going to convince people to make the right environmental choice, adding a hefty premium is not the best way to do it.This resulted in a sleeper train to Italy and a walking holiday through Umbria. Bliss on paper, but, with a baby, it proved to be something of a challenge, not least because many of the locals thought it was bordering on child neglect to be walking with a baby strapped to my chest in 30C-plus heat. They probably had a point. The cost of the train was also considerably more expensive than going by plane – something that still irritates me to this day. If you are ever going to convince people to make the right environmental choice, adding a hefty premium is not the best way to do it.
In the decade since, I think we have only flown once on a holiday – a trip to Morocco. Having young children means bucket-and-spade days to Cornish beaches are the best option anyway, but it does seem sad that one of the great social and cultural liberators of our age – affordable aviation – has a large shadow cast over it by very valid concerns about its disproportionate environmental impact.In the decade since, I think we have only flown once on a holiday – a trip to Morocco. Having young children means bucket-and-spade days to Cornish beaches are the best option anyway, but it does seem sad that one of the great social and cultural liberators of our age – affordable aviation – has a large shadow cast over it by very valid concerns about its disproportionate environmental impact.
The issue stood out for me so much that, in 2007, I wrote a follow-up book, The Final Call, which investigated the environmental, social and economic impacts – good and bad – of the global tourism industry.The issue stood out for me so much that, in 2007, I wrote a follow-up book, The Final Call, which investigated the environmental, social and economic impacts – good and bad – of the global tourism industry.
The financial cost of our ethical-living experiment is still one of the things people ask me about most – and I really regret not keeping a spreadsheet throughout the year to note our expenditure. One problem was that I didn't know, at the time, to record the year before, to allow me to make a genuine comparison. But my gut instinct, once the year was over, was that our outgoings were broadly the same, albeit with peaks and troughs in different places.The financial cost of our ethical-living experiment is still one of the things people ask me about most – and I really regret not keeping a spreadsheet throughout the year to note our expenditure. One problem was that I didn't know, at the time, to record the year before, to allow me to make a genuine comparison. But my gut instinct, once the year was over, was that our outgoings were broadly the same, albeit with peaks and troughs in different places.
For example, we certainly saved money by washing our daughter's cloth nappies and ditching disposables. (But, as I later investigated, had that actually been the right environmental decision?) By contrast, we spent more on sourcing our food than simply relying on a supermarket for a one-stop shop. However, we chose to eat much less meat, which helped to keep our food costs to a more manageable level. We didn't choose to go vegan, as some readers pleaded with us to do, but, instead, experimented with being "meat reducers").For example, we certainly saved money by washing our daughter's cloth nappies and ditching disposables. (But, as I later investigated, had that actually been the right environmental decision?) By contrast, we spent more on sourcing our food than simply relying on a supermarket for a one-stop shop. However, we chose to eat much less meat, which helped to keep our food costs to a more manageable level. We didn't choose to go vegan, as some readers pleaded with us to do, but, instead, experimented with being "meat reducers").
Looking back over the past decade, the biggest difference between then and now is the impact the recession has had on environmental attitudes. When the times were good, economically, people were more willing to spend a premium to make the better environmental choice. But environmentalism took a hard hit during the recession, as it always does. Understandably, perhaps, when times are tough, people – and governments – focus on today's concerns rather than tomorrow's.Looking back over the past decade, the biggest difference between then and now is the impact the recession has had on environmental attitudes. When the times were good, economically, people were more willing to spend a premium to make the better environmental choice. But environmentalism took a hard hit during the recession, as it always does. Understandably, perhaps, when times are tough, people – and governments – focus on today's concerns rather than tomorrow's.
I would still argue, though, that people are more environmentally aware today than they were 10 years ago. Just consider the change in attitudes towards recycling, which is now second nature for many. The central challenge still remains, though: convincing them to act on those niggling "mangetout moments".I would still argue, though, that people are more environmentally aware today than they were 10 years ago. Just consider the change in attitudes towards recycling, which is now second nature for many. The central challenge still remains, though: convincing them to act on those niggling "mangetout moments".
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The Live Better Challenge is funded by Unilever; its focus is sustainable living. All content is editorially independent except for pieces labelled advertisement feature. Find out more here.