The destruction of the planet’s environment at the hands of humans was always inevitable. We sealed our fate back in the 16th Century with the growth of the English cloth industry. The English cloth industry between the 16th to the 18th Century introduced the principle of amassing capital to grow production capacity. Instead of investing in building cathedrals and monuments, which came to be considered ‘unproductive ventures’, wealth was invested into producing more, more cheaply. And more wealth combined with consumption financed more industrial development and thus even more efficient production.
If you’ve read this far, you probably think I’m going to take a swipe at capitalism and blame it for all the woes on the planet.
I’m not.
The truth is that our human nature got us in this mess. And we all secretly know that avoiding the impending environmental catastrophe that everyone from NASA to the IPCC have warned us about will take a miracle. And the way things look today (combined with my current mood – I’m in lockdown), I’d say we’re unlikely to avert the worst climate change has install for us.
So, what in our nature has got us and the environment to this place?
Our need to fit in.
It isn’t a secret that humans are a social species. People thrive when they’re accepted and wither when they’ve been ostracised by the ‘group’. Rejection and disconnection has been fodder for philosophers and artists for centuries. But for people who live in the ‘real world’ being apart doesn’t work. Rejection or being disliked aren’t the essential ingredients for success.
We are accepted by the group by adopting the norms and values of the group we want to belong to. People of the same group tend to dress alike. For instance, if I list different items of clothing most of us will have a preconceived notion of who wears these items.
- Suit and tie
- Doc Martens
- Hoodie and t-shirt
- Chinos
- Uniforms
Clothes are markers of the type of person we are. As are many other things we buy. Where we live, says something about us. The brands we buy, the alcohol we drink, the cars we drive, the music we listen to – these are signals so others know what group, or ‘tribe’ we identify with.
What does this have to do with the environment?
Quite a bit.
Because of our need to be accepted, what we buy is dictated to us by the group we belong to. We overwhelmingly relinquish our decision making regarding what we need. Without knowing it, what we see others buy (especially people we admire) becomes what we desire.
Advertising and the need for corporations to create consumers also forms part of this equation. However, I have shared my thoughts on that topic ad nauseam, so, I’m just going to leave this here.
What interests me more is the idea that we have unconsciously stopped asking ourselves what we genuinely need.
150 years ago, the average person had two outfits. One for the week. The other, more formal outfit, usually for the Sabbath. And that was enough. However, today most of us (who aren’t in lockdown) wear a new outfit every day of the week. And we, more than likely, have clothes in our wardrobes we never wear or need.
This is because we have confused what we need with what we want. We see what others have and aspire to own the same things. We’ve turned down the volume on the critical part of our brain that says, ‘do you really need this.’ Instead we use ‘need’ and ‘want’ interchangeably in our language to give ourselves permission to buy what the rest of our group owns or aspires to own.
And now we own things because of what others have. And very little of what we own has anything to do with who we are as individuals. As our individuality gets lost in the conformism of being part of a group, we spend more of our money on things we don’t need. We end up consuming to fit in, to feel safe.
And that is why we have so little confidence that we can do anything about climate change
Because, deep down inside, we know that we have to change how we live.
We berate our governments and blame our politicians for not doing enough to address climate change and save the environment. But, silently, we know that as individuals we also have to change something, and we know it’s big. We are going to have to come to terms with the fact that we won’t have that magnificent house, at the top of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. We won’t be able to show off our wealth by owning 20 Prada suits and 5 Patek Philippe watches. That owning 4 x $250,000 cars is not what defines us. That what we eat will probably have to change.
That having money doesn’t give one carte blanche to consume indiscriminately without considering the broader implications of what we’re buying.
That defining what group we belong to starts with sharing ideas and not with the shoes we wear.
And that we need to get to know ourselves as individuals, again; so that, for one, we can distinguish between what we truly need and what we merely desire.
This reality scares many of us. Me included.
Because if we can’t have the things we want, what’s the point of all of this?
Our future as a species on this planet rests on us finding a new answer to this question.
And, I hope that part of the answer will include putting more capital towards ‘unproductive ventures’. Something tells me that in our new future we will need more cathedrals, music, forests, art and things of beauty.