The Eco-Sainthood & why I'm not a member

Through a tenuous connection to my work, I have been periodically thumbing through my boss’s copy of Adria Vasil’s Ecoholic, a rather daunting archive of all the knowledge you need to a) transform your ecological army-boot-print into the impression of a baby-sized organic vegan leather bootie; and b) drive yourself completely and obsessively raving mad. “Ecoholic” isn’t kidding – you’d have to have the compulsion of an addict to act on all these minutiae of earth-hugging acts. The feat alone of remembering the names of all those evil chemicals you’re spitting into the sea every time you use toothpaste is enough to drive one to drink. The perfect student in me had a very hard time not reaching for a pen to make feverish notes.

At the same time, my DIY nature was very attracted to the idea of making my very own body lotion – free of any carcinogens that would be rapidly absorbed into my bloodstream. And this is where I’m liable to get carried away. Thanks to this book, before you know it I’ll be refusing to buy soap because I know I can make it myself. Does this mean that I actually will make it myself? No. But because the option is there, I like to think that I’ll get around to it eventually. Witness me, Pioneer extraordinaire! This peculiar particular aspect of my psychology accounts for the disappearance of bread, candles, winter hats (any knits, actually), printed t-shirts, wall-hangings, pest-control solutions, and clothing alterations from my shopping list. While this is probably a good thing for baked goods (store bought desserts? what abominations!), TM may have to draw the line when I try to convince him to try my homemade mouthwash. Timelines are also suffering. No doubt there’s extra care put into hand-crafted gifts, but when Christmas is suddenly in March, is it worth it?

I have to apply the same rationale to the issue of my footprint. Buying organic free-range eggs directly from the farmer’s backdoor is all very well and good and rosy-coloured. However, the actual practice is virtually impossible, unless you’re a) unbelievably wealthy, and b) having of an abundance of time with absolutely nothing better to do than track down said farmer, for example, because of the existence of a), your unbelievable wealth.

First of all, buying organic is EXPENSIVE. Second of all, “organic,” as a result of its growing consumer popularity, has become increasingly convoluted. Yes, the chickens may not be pumped full of chemicals and antibiotics, but is there a guarantee that their feed has not? Not always. Even the term “free-range” can, legally, mean anything from actual freedom in a farmyard to a cage where the chicken can complete one full rotation of its body.

The whole practice of buying responsibly is fraught with pitfalls, until the question you really have to ask yourself is how far am I willing to push myself over the edge? Am I willing to live my life constantly worried about the origin of the seeds I planted to grow the basil for my home-made pesto, etc.? I wish I were, but I’m not.

There is some reprieve, though, for those of us who don’t have such addictive personalities. There are partial steps towards redemption which, while not complete, will reduce our shoe size considerably. Thankfully Adria Vasil acknowledges this. Not everyone CAN be an eco-saint. Just this morning I heard on the radio that if a person were to simply stop eating meat, they could reduce their greenhouse gas emissions considerably. The cultivation and transportation of meat products accounts for 19% of greenhouse gas emissions associated with human beings. Red meat is the head of that pack.