A Green Checklist

The more I talk to people about my book, Thrifty Green, the more two themes emerge in their questions for me. First, what was it like to live off the grid? (Answer: relaxed, stress-free, connected with the natural world, and extraordinary overall.) And second, what can an average person do in his or her everyday life to be kinder to the environment, given that most of us can’t chuck it all and move to Taos?

What they are looking for is a list. A step-by-step checklist for living a greener life. Yet I don’t think a list quite serves the purpose of creating lasting change in people’s lives. Instead, I offer the general principle that conservation is the key to responsible stewardship of the earth. But what you choose to conserve, and how, is up to you. Whatever it is, it shouldn’t feel like a sacrifice, or I guarantee you won’t keep it up. Similarly, trying to follow somebody else’s rules eventually will become too inconvenient to continue.

It is impossible to provide boilerplate guidelines that apply to everybody. For example, some ideas (buy a new hybrid car!) might involve spending money, but maybe you don’t have any. Others may involve improving the energy efficiency of your house, but perhaps you are a renter. I could wax rhapsodic about the merits of taking public transportation, but what if it doesn’t exist where you live? Or I could advise you on environmentally-friendly ways to stay warm in the winter, but they won’t apply if you live in southern Florida.

There is no one-size-fits-all method for greening up your life. You are the expert on how you currently live and what options are available to you. The point of my book, and of this blog, is to offer examples of authentic ecological living to inspire green changes in anyone’s life. You might read a blog post and think, “I can do that,” or you may conclude, “No way.” Either way, the decision is yours. I simply hope to help you come up with your own solutions. I may include a list here or there, but it will typically consist of general principles (e.g., sharing is good) or some off-the-wall ideas (e.g., drink only water) to jumpstart your own thinking.

For those of you who absolutely must have a list, there are plenty out there beyond this blog. For example, the Department of Energy lists standard tips for saving energy in the home, located here: http://www.energy.gov/energytips.htm. If you want a list of ways to conserve water, check out FEMA’s “Are You Ready” guide at http://www.fema.gov/areyouready/appendix_a.shtm. To save gas without shelling out money for a hybrid car, follow Edmunds.com’s road-tested tips at http://www.edmunds.com/fuel-economy/we-test-the-tips.html?articleid=106842.

Lists may have their place, but creating solutions for your own situation will make you more apt to turn them into lifelong habits – the best way to truly practice conservation without it feeling like a sacrifice.

On Compact Fluorescent Light Bulbs

I had an interview this week with Santa Fe Public Radio’s Journey Home show (see www.diegoradio.com for the podcast). The bulk of the show, for whatever reason, turned into a referendum on the merits of compact fluorescent light bulbs (CFLs). While the host was adamantly pro-CFL and a caller adamantly against, my position is a little more nuanced than I think came across during the broadcast.

Their opposing viewpoints actually illustrate my case for me: the compact fluorescent versus incandescent debate is not over. It continues because it is one on which anybody can offer a reasonably informed opinion. Light bulbs are something we all use and are relatively simple compared to, say, the ecological advantages and commercial viability of biofuels.

I am not against CFLs: they absolutely put out more light than heat and will reduce your electricity bill accordingly. Yet neither am I for them at all cost. My objections are twofold.

First, as with any technological advance, there are some unforeseen kinks that need to be worked out. In the case of CFLs, because of their mercury content, the biggest is the issue of disposal. My radio host asserted that CFLs could be disposed of properly in a sealed landfill, which would include all landfills created in the United States in the past couple of decades. But as the caller pointed out, breaking a CFL in your home poses a contamination problem, especially if you have small children. Furthermore, the landfills in Mexico and various countries of South America where CFLs have been universally adopted are not sealed. This caller believed that CFLs are dangerous.

Second, there is a segment of the population who will proudly swap out their bulbs and pat themselves on the back for being eco-sensitive, yet who will change no other behaviors that would have a greater environmental impact, such as driving less frequently or buying less stuff overall. By making CFLs the poster child for “greening up” your life (along with buying a Prius and shopping at Whole Foods), we give people like this an excuse to quit after a half-hearted effort of limited value.

Until the debate is firmly over, my opinion remains unchanged: the best way to truly consume less energy is to turn your lights off when not using them. It is the fundamental principle of conservation.

Top Five Books on Environmental Topics

Every spring, my dad used to quip, “Spring has sprung, the grass is riz; I wonder where the birdies is?” Okay, it doesn’t make much sense, but he and I shared a love of bad poetry, so I thought I would post this couplet in homage to him.

Spring officially arrived on March 20^th this year, and the birdies is singing their little hearts out in the bush outside my window. But April in Colorado can still feel like winter. It is overcast and chilly today, and it may snow tonight. In this climate, most trees don’t bud until May Day, and it doesn’t pay to plant flowers until after Memorial Day.

But at least we have the birdies, thanks in part to Rachel Carson, author of Silent Spring, arguably one of the most influential books on the environment ever written. Nearly forty years ago, in 1972, our government banned DDT for agricultural use, heeding Carson’s warning about its overenthusiastic employment having the potential to silence songbirds across the country.

I read Carson’s excellent book while living off the grid in Taos and found it to be both riveting and disturbing, especially for its commentary on the interplay between the industries that manufacture pesticides and the government agencies that regulate them. Silent Spring qualifies as one of my favorite books relating to the environment. Below are my top five. (If you want to recommend your favorites to me, I am always looking to add to the books piled on my nightstand waiting to be read.)

     1.         Silent Spring, by Rachel Carson. This book requires you to concentrate when reading it, particularly when she describes the chemistry behind pesticides. But it is worth your attention if you want a complete, coherent picture of how chemical pesticide use came about in this country, what its negative implications are (and the science behind them), and how its use has spiraled out of control.

     2.         Never Cry Wolf, by Farley Mowat. I read this when I was in high school and remember loving it. Never Cry Wolf tells Mowat’s story as a biologist sent to research how wolves in the Canadian Yukon were ostensibly killing all the caribou and, therefore, should be systematically hunted themselves. He finds, of course, that the wolves and caribou managed to balance their numbers just fine until humans came along and started overhunting the caribou and shooting the wolves for sport. When I tried to re-read this book recently, I was put off by the stiff language. But it doesn’t matter: the message is still sound. Besides, they made an excellent movie out of it.

     3.         Desert Solitaire, by Edward Abbey. This is another book I read in Taos. It is a classic environmental screed in which Abbey rails against roads in national parks (among other things) and tells a rollicking good tale to boot. I may read it again for some perspective now that we are once more debating the value of roadless wilderness.

     4.         The Not-So-Big House: A Blueprint for the Way We Really Live, by Sarah Susanka. Over ten years ago, Susanka adjured us to build our houses smaller but smarter. After a decade of largely ignoring her advice, our country is finally getting the message. However, remodeling rather than building new is still the most economically viable option for most people and the most environmentally friendly way to go. Hence, her latest book, Not So Big Remodeling: Tailoring Your Home for the Way You Really Live, which I am looking forward to reading.

     5.         Your Money or Your Life, by Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin. The original blueprint for using less stuff and reclaiming your life from the corporate treadmill, this book was my inspiration to de-clutter, de-stress, use less, and spend less.

The Bare Necessities

Traveling in a Third World country, like living off the grid, throws using less in relief. There are a minimum of necessities, and everything else is extraneous. When I talked to the various Westerners I met on a trek in Nepal, I asked them what they missed the most about their own country. No matter whether they had been gone two weeks, two months, or a full year, the number one answer was always the same: flush toilets. Old habits die hard. Squatting may work perfectly well, but if you have been trained to sit and are used to the hygienic aspects of flushing, that’s what you crave. It’s a comfortable, familiar feeling.

Also high on people’s lists were hot and cold running tap water. This was both for taking a steaming hot shower and for having potable water at your fingertips to drink, brush teeth, wash hands, and the myriad other things for which we thoughtlessly use water in industrialized nations.

One person mentioned a warm bedroom. Getting undressed at night in Nepal was chilly and unpleasant at best. At worst I didn’t even bother, but crawled into my sleeping bag fully clothed in my sweaty long underwear, cuddling a bottle of boiled water next to me.

Fresh fruit made some people’s lists, including mine. I also craved cold milk. The Swiss trekkers brought their own supply of chocolate as protection against inferior varieties, and the English folks mentioned roast beef with Yorkshire pudding. As for me, I had dreams about creamy macaroni and cheese. The other American I met longed for orange juice. Personal preference reigned, but everyone had a food item they craved and simply couldn’t get in Nepal.

The curious thing was that absolutely nobody mentioned electricity, television, radio, stereos and CDs (this was pre-MP3 technology), telephones, PDAs, video games, movies, twenty-four-hour news programs, or anything relating to information or nonparticipatory entertainment. One man remarked that he hadn’t seen a newspaper in a while, but he didn’t say he missed it. With the exception of amenities relating to staying warm and clean, no one mentioned material possessions either. No one missed cars, gadgets, cushy furniture, wall-to-wall carpeting, toys, knickknacks, or any of the plastic junk that fills most of our houses. Eliminating all but the necessities was painless. It freed us up to enjoy the great outdoors and each other’s company, two pleasures that cost nothing.

The Unintended Consequences of Conservation

We have all heard of the Law of Unintended Consequences, typically in reference to something negative that happens as a result of a law passed by the government. But an individual person’s actions can have unintended consequences too, and sometimes they can be positive. Witness the following conservation actions you can take and their potential positive consequences.

• Put your computer on a power strip to turn it completely off when you are not using it. This little step will not only save money and energy since it won’t be drawing a phantom power load (a tiny bit of power used by anything with a battery charger or a remote control), it will also make it ever-so-slightly inconvenient to turn it back on. And that inconvenience might spur you to choose to do something else instead, such as spend time with friends and family. Human beings are social creatures: we need actual, physical contact with one another to thrive, as opposed to instant messages, chat rooms, emails, social networking sites, or video phone calls.
• Eat your leftovers. It doesn’t matter whether they come from a restaurant or your own kitchen: if you fully consume every piece of food you buy, you will buy less food overall. Therefore you will consume fewer of the planet’s resources and spend less money. You may also decide to learn a few cooking techniques to make your leftovers more palatable. And once you perfect some recipes, you might invite some friends (or a potential love interest) over to impress them with your new skills, and who knows where that might lead?
• Drink water. Only water. And I don’t mean flavored, sparkling, or otherwise “enhanced” water. If you stop buying and drinking soda, juice, milk, coffee, tea, alcohol, and energy drinks, you will consume fewer calories, kick potentially addictive habits, and spend less money. You also may become concerned about the quality of the water flowing from your tap. If you become concerned enough, you can write to your local water commission and press for higher standards and better regulation.
• Keep your lights off as long as possible after the sun sets, saving energy and money by not using electricity. Then go outside (or at least take a seat by your window) and turn on all of your senses. Let your eyes adjust to the fading light and see if you can spot any creatures scuttling by, whether they are squirrels or neighbors out walking their dogs. Listen to the birds settling down for the night: their chirps are different from the ones you hear during the day. Inhale the fresh evening air, and feel how cool it is on your skin. By eliminating an artificial environment lit with electric bulbs, you can tune in to the natural one that has been there all along.