consumption

It seems I'm not the only one concerned by the current global call to consume more in order to save ourselves. Courtesy of Eilleen at Consumption Rebellion I found Make Wealth History. At a glance, the site looks like an invitation to analyse our values and choices. In light of the Wal-Mart worker crushed to death by 2000 determined bargain hunters in New York on Friday, it would behove us to examine our consumption habits, both as a society and as individuals.

This one in particular caught my eye:



Another thoughtful consideration of our consumption habits and their consequences for the planet is found in the Story of Stuff. This punchy little film has been around for a while, but if you haven't seen it before it's well worth a look.

On a personal note, my little maglite torch stopped working. I tried several sets of batteries with no result and decided the bulb must have blown. When I went to the hardware store and asked for a new bulb he told me they are impossible to source, I'll have to buy a new torch. I don't want to be (much of) a consumer, but the whole system makes it almost impossible not to fall into it. I might try and claw my way out by purchasing one of these instead...

living in the lap of luxury

Thinking back to school days I have no doubt my teachers intended me to learn all sorts of weighty knowledge, and it's likely that I did imbibe some of what they sought to impart. Perhaps I even learned huge swathes of facts and figures - I sure studied hard enough!

Thinking back though, it's mostly irrelevant things I recall... creating volcanoes in the sandpit, concocting rotten egg gas, resting a needle on the meniscus of a glass of water, the extra trill tacked onto the end of a piece of music, crying with Bob Hawke over Tiananmen Square, the quirky personality of a lecturer donned in thongs rain, hail or shine. Arguably the most useful thing I remember is the definition of osmosis: the movement of particles from a region of high concentration to a region of low concentration through a semi-permeable membrane.

All those years spent studying and I can only hope my knowledge base is fat with a general air of knowing. Because the facts and figures slipped away long ago!

In the intervening years since school not that much has changed - I still seem programmed to remember the incidental, inconsequential things and forget the relevant bytes of information. Working in my favour is the way all those incidental, inconsequential things weave themselves together into something truly useful that guides my life. (I'm still figuring out the useful contribution of needles on menisci and rotten egg gas...) Snatches of truth, principles, generalities... all converge to produce an idea that gains significance in the nitty gritty of everyday life.

Lately a host of truths, principles and generalities have been snapping together like magnets in my mind. World poverty, ethical eating, environmental conscience, sustainable living... these and many other ideas swim around in my head, seeking each other out, forming values and beliefs, influencing my behaviour.

A thought from my recent residential school is a case in point. We were discussing the counselling needs of people who have experienced trauma and loss when the lecturer pointed out that the very fact we have time and space to discuss such events with a counsellor is testimony to the privilege and luxury we enjoy. Many of the world's population do not have access to this privilege - their trauma and losses are incomprehensibly greater than our own, yet they are so caught up in the task of survival that they have no resources left for processing their experiences.

I can't shake that thought, the thought of the luxury and privilege I enjoy. For one, I can afford to study! (Leave alone having the chance to learn to read) Then there is my choice to work part time, not because I have children or an injury, but simply because of the quality of life it affords me. As I sit and study, or read, or cook for pleasure I am plagued by visions of those who must work tirelessly through every day to simply survive: gathering wood; milking goats; grinding wheat. And what about our new car? The one with the six stack CD player? Most people of the world can only dream of such a grand possession.

Yes, I live in the lap of luxury.

It all came home a little more strongly this afternoon. Today Frank and I heard about a young orphan boy in Kenya who lives in a single room with his grandparents and plays with cars he makes from wire. I wept.

What a world. That I can be so, so rich while this boy is so, so poor. That I have food, and shelter, and transport, and education while he has so little. That we in the West perpetuate his poverty with our systems of exploitation and greed. This is a travesty.

May I be responsible with my wealth, using it to ease the pain of those who experience little in the way of luxury, promoting the principles of justice and compassion and resisting the urge to think only of myself.

over the pulp mill or ' wishing the pulp mill was over'

I'm heartily tired of this whole pulp mill business. (Years of having it's fabricated benefits stuffed in my ears are taking their toll)

I'm relieved it has become a national issue. (53% of us who live in the area don't want it, while 35% do. The rest don't know who to believe and choose fence sitting over becoming better informed. But even with those statistics - and yes, in case you missed it, that's a majority of people who don't want the mill - Gunns think they can swan into our backyard and do what they want because. well. they want to. isn't that reason enough? We need all the help we can get to beat this thing, so thankyou to all those mainlanders who've waded into the debate and are fighting with us)

I'm extremely upset that the bottom line is the almighty dollar. Always the almighty dollar. Everything is reduced to profit. Dividends. Value per tonne. Trade deficits balanced by pulp production over woodchip export.

I am going to buy this t-shirt and wear it everywhere.

Eat money?

Only when the last tree has died
and the last river been poisoned
and the last fish been caught
will we realise we cannot eat money.

It seems to me that our whole value system is totally mucked up. (I really want to swear there, but I am not as brave as some of you whose blogs I read. My Mum is reading... replace 'mucked up' with the expletive that best fits) We have totally stuffed up our world for the sake of a dollar and I am enraged and grief stricken all in one. I am distressed that I (separated from you only in degree), am a consumer who contributes to this system that rapes our earth in return for paltry money.

I've been reading a book called 'The ethics of what we eat' by Peter Singer and Jim Mason. In their tabulation of the atrocities of industrial size chicken production they make some statements that are relevant to the pulp mill debate:

Tyson produces chicken cheaply because it passes many costs on to others. Some of the cost is paid by people who can't enjoy being outside in their yard because of the flies and have to keep their windows shut because of the stench. Some is paid by kids who can't swim in the local streams. Some is paid by those who have to buy bottled water because their drinking water is polluted. Some is paid by people who want to be able to enjoy a natural environment with all its beauty and rich biological diversity. These costs are, in the terms used by economists, 'externalities' because the people who pay them are external to the transaction between the producer and the purchaser. p29.

What bothers me most about the Gunns pulp mill debate is that these externalities have been largely ignored. Obviously Gunns turns a blind eye to them because it wouldn't look so good in their Integrated Impact Statement. That the government has also chosen to ignore them is testament to the fact that not only will Gunns profit from this trashing of our environment, but so too will they. And while Gunns and the government line their pockets with trees ripped from the heart of my state, I and my fellow citizens will pay the enormous 'external' costs.

Is this justice? Is this right? I think not.

Bring on heaven, lush land of restored creation, kingdom of justice, haven from the evil dollar. I think I've had enough of it down here. Can I go to that new place right now please?

love at first sight (or 'our new car')

We bought a new car.

I know. We're shocked too. We didn't really mean to. Well we did, but we didn't anticipate doing the deed for a while yet. Then on Tuesday evening, after 5pm, Frank suggested we pop down quickly to the local Subaru dealer to check out their second hand vehicles.

And there we saw it. The Subaru Forester of our dreams. A 2003 2.5SX Luxury model.

Actually we didn't know 2.5SX Luxury models existed before our quick trip to the dealer, but we soon learned all about alloy wheels, fog lights, super duper suspension, leather seats, sun roofs and six stack CD players.

We smiled politely, thanked the dealer and drove off into the sunset to 'discuss' our options. I still don't think either of us thought we'd end up buying a car. We were just checking out possibilities. But it was a nice car, one we both liked... so we phoned back and booked in a test drive for the next morning.

Wednesday saw the sun rising and Frank and I excitedly stepping out to the car dealer. We settled into the car and fell in love. Oh la la. Beautiful.

In the end we found another 2003 SX model in immaculate condition (it even had a floor cover in the boot!). And 45 minutes later we'd signed up to buy it. 16 hours after popping down quickly to the dealer.

How did that happen?!

In our defense, we have been discussing the purchase of another car for several months - it wasn't a complete impulse buy! We've debated the beauty (or not) of various makes and models, observed multitudes of cars on the road, dropped into various car yards and researched the strengths and weaknesses of numerous vehicles on the internet. Somehow when we stepped into the dealer on Tuesday... the time was right, the car was right... and so we bought it.

The features I particularly love about this car are windows that open and close on demand (my poor little Corolla's window won't budge no matter how hard I turn the knob); a driver's door that unlocks from the outside, negating the need to climb over the gear stick from the passenger side (I still haven't had the lock fixed since that Thursday night break in); and an absence of dirt and spider webs (I hate washing the car).

But I promise I will wash this car more often! (I haven't washed the old once since... um... Christmas) I must maintain our new Subaru Forster in its immaculate state - Tassie is so small I'm bound to drive past the old owners, and I wouldn't want them to see a neglected vehicle!

don't sue me... I'll sue you!

One day a raw recruit newly added to the army of environmental activists, the next, taking the government to court!?!

Well I suppose I'm taking the government to court... since I'm now a member of the Wilderness Society, and they're taking the government to court.

It's all a bit bigger than I had anticipated, but this is how the story goes... Read it and weep. I do every time I think about it!

Tasmania's biggest timber company proposes the construction of a squeaky clean, green pulp mill on the banks of the beautiful, peaceful Tamar, jewel of the north of Tasmania. They promise they will use only the latest technology that will only minimally damage the environment.

An independent review panel is established and the community is invited to make submissions on any aspect of the project.

As the review process continues it gradually becomes apparent that things are not proceeding according to plan. The state government begins exerting pressure on the review panel, requesting that they speed up the process, maybe even ignore important details of the application. Consequently the chair of the panel resigns.

Tasmania's biggest company is troubled by this - they have invested wads of money in the project and, quite frankly, they cannot afford the delay posed by the resignation of the review panel chair. They've also changed their mind about the squeaky clean, green idea, instead revealing plans for a different mill that will create significantly more pollution. They consequently pull out of the review process - it's not really meeting their needs anyway.

If it was anyone other than the biggest company in Tasmania, the project would be well and truly dead in the water. But no, this company has some big friends in high places.* So the politicians run around like crazy searching for an alternative way to approve the pulp mill.

Of course they don't have to look very far - they are the decision makers of the country after all! They immediately pass new laws that allow for an alternative approval process, and because they're clever enough to realise that the mill would not have passed the initial stringent environmental standards, they water down the environmental requirements at the same time. They also demand that any member of the public wishing to comment on the proposol must send their submissions to the company making the proposol. And since every politician in the state and country places the almighty dollar before serenity, beauty and peace of mind, they decide they will be the ones to make the final decision on whether the pulp mill shall proceed or not. Before the alternative review process has even begun, everyone in the state knows the mill will be approved. Indeed it already has been.

Now not everyone in the state or nation is happy with these developments. They smack of deceit and a complete lack of integrity. The stench of power misused hangs heavy over the proceedings. These people are not willing to give up on their dream of a beautiful wilderness state. They will not accept this mill without a fight. Or at least without an honest appraisal that is not patently biased and flawed.

So fight they do. They go right for the top. To the Federal Minister for the Environment. They declare that he has acted against the Constitution of Australia by allowing the initial review process to be discarded in favour of another shady approach. They go so far as to suggest he has broken the law. The environmental activists book a date in court at the end of the month.

Tongues start wagging all around the country... of course those who support the pulp mill start baying for the blood of the environmentalists for here is yet another delay that threatens the viability of their mill. Those who oppose the mill are euphoric - someone is doing SOMETHING to fight this monstrosity! There is hope. Could it be that as the Franklin Dam was defeated in the eighties, the Pulp Mill might be defeated in the twenties?!

Here's hoping!

To be continued...

(Meanwhile I'll keep scratching my head about the possibility I might be taking a politician to court. Kind of... Maybe?)

*not God I'm thinking!

an environmental activist is born (or 'sue me too')

Frank has been hopping mad for the last couple of days, and today I finally figured out why. (It's not me!) I just read something he read yesterday and now I'm hopping mad too!

Last week a friend alerted me to an article in "The Monthly" (an Australian "thinker's" journal I'd never even heard of until this week) by Richard Flanagan called 'Gunns. Out of control.' Frank and I have both been gripped by the devastating story it reveals.

Gunns is a large Tasmanian company intent on destroying this beautiful state. They tear down huge swathes of forest for the production of woodchips. This is a travesty Frank and I have been aware of for some time. We had not been aware of the extent of the problem.

As it turns out, Gunns is not only ruining our forests, it's also destroying the social fabric of our state through lies, deceit, bribery, and basically ripping everybody off for their own corporate profit. They are tearing the heart out of our state, and it would seem both sides of government are standing back giving tacit nods of approval.

More recently Gunns has been intent on constructing an enormous pulp mill just 40 kilometres from my house. This entails more than just a stinking mill pumping out pollution faster than it pumps out woodchips. It means doubling the rate of forest destruction in order to maintain wood supply to the ever hungry mouth of the mill. This will have even greater detrimental environmental and societal impact.

Of course Frank and I have been aware of the proposed pulp mill. We've even been to two anti-pulp mill rallies. We are aware that Gunns pulled out of the independent review process established for the mill. We know the government has consequently developed its own review process that will provide the rubber stamp Gunns needs to move ahead with its project. We know that anyone with any power in this state is working their butt off to ensure a smooth approval of the mill. We're fairly confident that Gunns is directly or indirectly lining every pocket in sight to guarantee their project succeeds.

We also recognise that unless every person in this state (and beyond) who does not want this pulp mill makes a loud noise, it will be built and we will all suffer its ill effects. Even if we all make a loud noise it may happen anyway - Gunns has a history of suing anyone who publicly disagrees with their activities. They have the money and the power to do what they want. What a sad indictment on our society.

So today I became a member of the Wilderness Society. (I know - how radical!) I spoke with a local campaigner and was invited to help out in any way I'm able. If I can get past the dreadlocked, flowing skirt, hippie stereotype I've built up in my mind, I just might do that! For now I'll be putting my money where my mouth is and making my voice heard in letters to politicians.

This has got to stop. We live in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Let's keep it that way!

a tale of the two target magazines

Two Target magazines plopped into my letterbox yesterday.

(Actually they didn't plop into the letterbox at all. We have a small, decrepit metal box perched atop a post and, so, squashed in half, each item scraped through the narrow orifice before getting stuck, and there it stayed until I came home and I levered it gently free)

So two Target magazines arrived in my letterbox, nestled together in stark contrast to one another until I came and sorted the mail.

"Great," I thought, "a Target catalogue. I love a good Target catalogue!"

Sorting further I found the Target magazine.

"Hmmm," I mumbled,"this magazine is quality info. I look forward to reading this over a good cup of coffee."

(Actually I don't drink coffee. Two hours after the inspiring liquid slides past my tastebuds I am overcome by tremors and faintness. Every once in a while I cannot resist the deliciousness of the taste, but mostly the aftereffects are not worth the small pleasure! But I still love the visual image of savouring a cup of the good stuff)

..."Hmmm," I mumbled, "this magazine is quality info. I look forward to reading this with a glass of water," and off I toddled inside.

It was only later that I realised the significance of two Target magazines arriving at the same time, one shamelessly promoting superfluous products such as toys, DVDs, and computer games, the other promoting the work of community development amongst the world's poor.

To me they represent two very different ideologies - in fact the values each promotes stand in diametric opposition to one another.

Flick through the pages and observe what I mean:

The Target catalogue parades the 'Dancing Princesses Genevieve Doll', storybook pillows, a Shrek pinball machine, and a Garfield Nintendo game. Then there's the Barbie shoes, Spiderman boots and Ninja Turtle backpack, all set off beautifully by the Bratz licensed lamp. Page after page is filled with potentially useful but ultimately nonessential items.

Turn to the Target Magazine and the content is nothing short of inspiring. There is detailed the story of five-year-olds who squeeze into a sixteen year old girl's bedroom in Bangladesh. They come for literacy and numeracy lessons, health education, and songs. While they are learning, most teenagers are at work in the local factory producing clothes... perhaps the very clothes that the Target catalogue advertises.

Could it be any more clear, the contrast between my rich, comfortable world and the world of the majority of Earth's population?

I detest the consumerism of the West. We are so caught up in materialism we've forgotten that we already have everything we could possibly need. Instead we pour over catalogues, which (to my shame) I asked to receive, looking for the extra possession that will bring us happiness.

Not that I want to go and live in the developing world! I'm thankful for the creature comforts I have - I just long for the day when I stop pining for more and more and more! I want to be content with what I have so that I can share my wealth with those who do not have.

Thankyou TEAR and your Target Magazine for reminding me of the billions who live with less than I have. Thankyou postie for plonking two magazines in my letterbox at exactly the same time, prompting me to ponder my wealth compared to the poverty of others in this world.

May I become less enchanted with consumerism, having the courage to stand for justice and freedom for all, resisting the temptation to purchase items I don't really need, sharing out of my richness with those who have nothing.