CARBON CONUNDRUM
Carbon offsetting, like ethical consumerism, has become
terribly chic and very middle class but, asks CIWEM Executive
Director, Nick Reeves, does it really work?
Carbon offsetting is de rigueur just now. The chattering classes
are going green and are feeling suitably smug. And just to show
that I'm not out of tune with current thinking I've decided to make
my articles for this and other publications carbon neutral. For
each one I write, I'm going to plant something in my garden - not
trees, because I'd soon run out of space, but maybe a dwarf conifer
or a Cotoneaster horizontalis, or something similar that's compact
in habit. Although small they will still soak up a bit of carbon
dioxide.
Also, I'm thinking of paying someone in a developing country to
change their behaviour in some way that's kinder to the planet -
that way I don't have to change mine. In doing this I'll offset the
power that drives my computer and my television, the paper on which
my articles are printed and, more importantly, some of my guilt.
And, hopefully, people will like me a bit more, because it will be
carbon neutral and that's really ever-so fashionable right now.
Or will it? I'm not so sure. It's a bit of a puzzle this
offsetting business, a mess in fact. There are no common standards
or seals of approval, or any indication that there will be any, any
time soon. No one can even agree on how to calculate the carbon
footprint of a single flight. On the face of it the whole thing
seems to be a bit of a sham with little credibility. What's more
the public don't really get it, sensing that it's a convenient way
for the better off to carry on as usual while off-loading their
guilt.
I mean, you don't know that I wasn't going to plant my dwarf
conifer or Cotoneaster anyway, as part of the shrub growing nursery
that I run to supplement my salary. What a stroke of luck that by
doing what I was going to do anyway I can call myself carbon
neutral, and everyone will like and respect me more than they do
already.
And what about my poor friend in the developing world? Is his
new behaviour really as green as we've been told it is? I
think I'd better fly out there to check him out. Carbon offsetting,
like ethical consumerism, is not just a conundrum but - unregulated
- fast becoming a blight on the planet.
And, if ethical shopping was simply about swapping
planet-damaging goods for less damaging ones I'd be all for it. But
two parallel markets are now emerging - one for unethical products
and one for ethical products. Growth in the latter is doing little
to hinder the former. In fact they're both thriving, which is barmy
because I am now awash with eco-junk. I have a lifetimes' supply of
ballpoint pens and pencils made from recycled paper and miniature
solar chargers for gadgets I do not own. Go to any environmental
event or conference and you'll have these and other bits of
nonsense thrust upon you with your delegate pack. The only thing of
use is the stress ball I was given recently, made from something
recycled - I forget what. And if I receive any more eco-junk
I'll soon need another stress ball. In the name of environmental
consciousness, and in our desire to be green, we have simply
created new opportunities for surplus capital.
Ethical shopping - like carbon offsetting - is in danger of
becoming yet another indicator of social status, chutzpah and
personal wealth. I know people who have bought and installed solar
panels and wind turbines before they have insulated their lofts. I
also know people who catch and store rainwater yet continue to buy
bottled mineral water. This odd behaviour can be explained because
these are the sorts of folk who love gadgets but, more importantly,
like to show everyone around them how conscientious and how rich
they are.
The middle classes re-brand their lives, congratulate themselves
on going green, and carry on buying and flying as much as before.
It is easy to picture a situation in which the whole world buys
green products religiously while carbon emissions continue to
soar. Where's the sense in that?
As some will argue, it is true that most people find
aspirational green living more attractive than dour puritanism. But
it can also be alienating. I know young farmers and growers
desperate to start a farm or nursery of their own but have been
excluded by what they call 'horsiculture': small parcels of land
that are being converted to pony paddocks and hobby farms. In
places like Berkshire, Hampshire and Surrey agricultural land is
now fetching £30,000 per acre as 'City-types' use big bonuses to
buy organic-lifestyles. When the new owners dress up as milkmaids
and lecture the excluded locals on how to make cheese and butter,
they run the risk of turning environmentalism into an elitist whim,
attracting nothing but abuse.
But, challenge the new green consumerism and you're in danger of
being branded a party-pooper, the curmudgeon at the dinner dance.
Against the shiny new world of organic aspirations you are forced
to raise the rather drab and equitable restraints that won't make
the headlines or the colour supplements, and won't excite the rock
stars: carbon rationing, contraction and convergence, tougher
regulations to prevent building on flood plains and to encourage
rainwater-harvesting.
But these measures, and the long hard battle to bring them
about, are required to prevent the catastrophic floods of the kind
we saw in July 2007 - rather than merely playing at being green.
Only when these measures have been introduced does green
consumerism become a substitute for current spending, rather than a
supplement to it. They are harder to sell, not least because they
cannot be bought through mail order catalogues or online. Hard
choices will have to be made, and the economic elite and its
spending habits must be challenged rather than flattered. The
multi-millionaires who have embraced the green agenda might
suddenly find other causes to champion.
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