Who Says Change Has To Be Bad?

I promised earlier this spring that I would do a series of posts exploring how we might move beyond globalized fossil capital, with its compulsion for economic growth and resource exploitation. This is the first of those imaginings, not just of alternative ways of living that are more respectful of other plant and animal species, our fellow humans, and the earth itself, but also of pathways to get us there.

How is it that so many people think that any big change in the way society works would be for the worse? After all, there’s nothing great about how most people live these days. Many, if not most, are exhausted, stressed out, in physical pain, or all of the above. Yet most remain convinced that living in some earth-friendlier way would involve a huge “sacrifice.” Why?

The stock answer is that people are naturally afraid of change. That’s not really an answer, though, it’s a different way of stating the question. And is it really even true? If people are that afraid of change, why do they spend so much time and money seeking change through travel — not to see old friends or family or a much loved place, but to see exotic locales or do unaccustomed things?

Let’s try a thought experiment: What if, instead of spending money and spewing out carbon to visit faraway places, we sought a different, better way to live day-in and day-out right at home that made us less exhausted, stressed and pain-ridden — and required fewer carbon emissions? I’m not saying never travel to visit family and friends or see spectacular places.

I’m just suggesting that, in the midst of overlapping environmental, social and political crises, it might made sense to focus less on exploring the big, wide world, and to focus more on improving our lives and creating better communities that are also less damaging to the planet and the plants, animals and other people who live on it — to embrace change not for moments here and there but for our entire lives.

What We Don’t Like

The first requirement of such an experiment in imagination is that you switch off and quit reading ads. Advertising is the single biggest factor creating the fear of fundamental change, and encouraging us to make do instead with daring vacations and unneeded new versions of the same old products we probably didn’t want that much in the first place.

Next, think what it is that you spend the most time on that contributes most to stress and exhaustion. For many, it’s working long hours at things they wouldn’t do if they didn’t “need the money.”

Some really do need the money in order to eat and have basic clothing and housing. They’re the evidently unlucky ones. A top priority for any sane society should be to ensure that everyone eats without having to shorten and make their lives miserable doing so.

Then there are the ones who continue working at things they wouldn’t do by choice, even though they don’t actually need that last bit of money. They’re supposedly the lucky ones, but it’s hard to see what makes them “better off” in a fundamental sense than those with less money, since they have so little time to do enjoyable things with their extra money — much less cultivate the things that “money just can’t buy,” like true love and home-grown tomatoes.

What We Would Like

Speaking of food, how many of us really enjoy the food so many eat too much of? The agribusiness has largely succeeded in banishing taste from food. That goes for carrots and potatoes as much as for pork and chicken. Maybe people keep on eating when they aren’t hungry because they’re starved for genuine taste, rather than the chemical sauces and spices used to compensate for the absence of flavor in the food itself.

What if we traded in that inherently tasteless food for fruit, vegetables and meat grown by small farmers close to where we live? Eating such food isn’t only about saving the earth — although it would certainly help do that. Nor is it just about being healthier, although that’s true, too. It’s about the pleasure of eating food with real, amazingly wonderful taste.

If you don’t believe that locally grown food is better, spend a week or two eating food from a nearby farmers market as an experiment that goes beyond thought to action. Don’t look at what things cost. The farmers aren’t getting rich — and it’s only for one week if you don’t like the results. But I’m betting you’ll be hooked by week’s end. This is not a sacrifice. This could be the tastiest thing that ever happened to you.

Yes, it costs more and, yes, some farmers markets have the reputation of catering mainly to well-off types. But subsidized corn in “processed food” has accustomed Americans to eating too much too cheaply. We need to pay what good food costs and to make sure everyone can afford to eat well. In the meantime, many markets now accept food stamps and some offer discounts for those paying through food assistance programs or donate to food banks.

Then there’s driving, or rather driving less. This is often more important, and always a lot cheaper, than buying an electric car. Walking is healthy and fun, especially when it’s around your neighborhood or town rather than in a gym that charges you to do what you could do more amusingly for free. Biking ditto. Then there are buses, subways and trains, where use plunged during Covid. We’re back in shops. We need to be back in public transit, too.

If we had more time, we could also join and start more community ventures that give life meaning and companionship, from organizing concerts or conferences, to campaigning for pet causes — more public transit, maybe? — to growing some of our own food, to sports and running clubs, to whatever.

Making Time

Most of these things are fun, but they take time. If you work less, you have more time, but you also have less money. So why talk about spending more on food and then turn around and advocate earning less? Because most of us buy a lot we don’t need or even want for much longer than a minute. And we desperately need to make and use fewer things. For example, we could happily do with fewer clothes and with buying second-hand most of the clothes we do need — or genuinely want.

I live in a cold place, and I like cashmere sweaters. I used to work a lot and buy such things new for a lot of money. I have since discovered really good cashmere sweaters can be bought for $20 or $30 at a nearby co-op that sells “antiques” and used stuff. Living on less doesn’t need to be a misery.

Try your own thought experiments that involve less work, less stuff, and more free time. They will probably go in very different directions from mine, but see if you can’t end up imagining something fine and fulfilling — something that’s not a sacrifice.