Adam Werbach is a very controversial figure in certain (mainly older and/or purist) environmental circles. His company, Act Now Productions, works with a variety of companies (including Wal Mart) on improving sustainability. He’s criticized the traditional “environmentalist” movement, even declaring it dead. He gave a speech last week that’s worth highlighting. Apologies for the gratuitous excerpts, but I found it impossible to leave much more out. Courtesy of Grist (emphasis mine):
Tonight I invite you to join me in Wonderland. I ask you to consider joining me in building a movement that goes beyond the political to the personal, that views the existential threat of global warming as a chance to change the way we treat ourselves and the planet, that aspires to have one billion active participants across the earth. Tonight I’ll contend that we need to invest more time in making a difference through our routine activities and the things we buy every day. To achieve this we need a broader platform than green. [...]
[All over the world], I’ve seen people seeking something broader than a green or environmentalist solution to the myriad problems they face in their lives. Yes, they believe climate change is happening, but they also want to feel good about the way they look in the mirror and the way their kids look at them at the dinner table. They want to be part of something larger than themselves without having to sacrifice their identity. They want joy, not guilt, and a little money in their pocket so that they don’t have to trade down on yet one more thing in their life.
Building this new movement will require a commitment to the mainstream that we are unaccustomed to in San Francisco. It’s not enough to have a revolution that consists only of Mac users. It’s not enough to have a revolution that exists only in coastal states and college towns. It’s not enough to attack China as the home of lead-painted toys and neglect the aspirations of the hundreds of millions of people who have been brought out of abject poverty because we’ve bought those toys.
Something is happening now; progress seems at hand. We don’t know what to call it. For now let us call it the sustainability revolution — we are beginning to understand how human culture will harmonize its relationship with the living world. [...]
Continue reading ‘The Birth Of BLUE (Long Live Green)’
Welcome to a new weekly feature I’m calling “Questioning Things.” The first thing we’ll be questioning is the name of this feature. It’s the best I’ve got, but it’s kind of lame. ANYWAY.
Jarred and I feel like our readers are far more interesting than we are…and we want to hear your stories. So this is your turn: I’ll ask a few (hopefully provocative) questions, you’ll answer in the comments, and we’ll revel in our collective cleverness/hilarity/soul searching.
- What would it take for you to agree to watch two more minutes of commercials per hour of television (1 extra minute for a half-hour show)? Would it make a difference if every commercial caused you to laugh out loud? If every ad was personally targeted at your tastes and lifestyle?
- What line/phrase from a television show or movie do you use in real life? Is it common enough that people recognize the origin, or so obscure that it sounds to most people like your original phrase?
- If you could work a past summer job, but full-time and at your present salary, which job would you pick?
- Is there a musical instrument that–even with unlimited lessons–you don’t think you could master?
My answers after the break. Your answers in the comments (please?).
Continue reading ‘Questioning Things, Vol. I’
Timothy Egan of the New York Times tackles the statement Steve Jobs made last month about the decline of reading. I covered Jobs’ quote here, and a lively debate ensued in the comments. It’s been our most popular post by far, probably because what El Jobso said is pretty controversial.
You should definitely read his whole piece, but here are some of Egan’s money quotes:
Reading is something else, an engagement of the imagination with life experience. It’s fad-resistant, precisely because human beings are hard-wired for story, and intrinsically curious. Reading is not about product.
Next year, business may be down, and several publishers may merge, and certainly more of the poor, beloved independent bookstores will cling to life support. Steve Jobs will stroll into a room filled with breathless acolytes and pull a must-have trick from his bag. We’ll oohh and ahhhh about it, then go back to lives where a good book still holds more power than anything with a screen. Power to transport the reader to another world. Power to get inside somebody’s else mind, to live their story, to be moved.
Last year, a survey for the Associated Press found that a much smaller number — 27 percent — had not read a book lately, which means nearly three-in-four have read a book. [...] The more compelling statistic was rarely mentioned in news accounts of the A.P. story: the survey found that another 27 percent of Americans had read 15 or more books a year. That report documents a national celebration.
Since I’ve already gushed with geeky joy over gadget blogs, I feel safe bringing this (extremely useful) gizmo to your attention:
The Eco-eye is a straightforward concept: a real time accounting of energy use in your home and the corresponding carbon emission. It also displays the cost of your energy use on a daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly basis.
Little tools like this encourage a healthy level of guilt in our consumption of energy–inspiring us though our competitive nature to turn off the lights when we leave the room and unplug “vampire appliances” that draw energy when idle. Something like this exists in most hybrid cars: a green “ECO” lights up on the dash when the car reaches peak efficiency, and a real-time display shows the driver what mileage he or she is achieving over the course of a trip. While it’s sort of silly, these types of incentives work. Sure, we’re saving money by identifying wasteful drains on our home energy or maximizing gas mileage…but it’s also uniquely satisfying to feel like you’re driving as efficiently as possible or powering your home in a sensible way.
So a while back we had a rousing discussion about the future of the book. Spawned by Steve Jobs’ comment that books (and technologies like the Kindle) are increasingly irrelevant since, he claims, “people don’t read anymore.” Well, an offshoot and related issue is: what use do we have for brick-and-mortar bookstores? I’m intrigued by this post from Ezra Klein, and I think I sympathize.
“I love bookstores, and spend a significant fraction of my time in them. When I go to Politics and Prose, I purchase books I don’t need, partially out of a desire to simply donate to the store’s continued operation. I keep trying to figure out a reason I believe bookstores will survive into the future, but it seems pretty clear that books will eventually be as mercilessly digitized as music, and most bookstores will close, just as most CD stores were shuttered long ago.”
I too love bookstores and, while I’m loathe to browse a clothing store or local mall, can spend hours looking around a good bookstore. But, inevitably, my frugality takes hold and unless I’m desperate for a new novel I’ll take mental note of a few titles that look interesting (after checking out a chapter or two in the store)…and then order them online from home, saving money and often finding a used copy. Online purveyors are simply more convenient, offer more options for saving money, and tap into a nearly limitless inventory that even my local Borders or Barnes & Noble can’t match, much less the locally-owned mom & pop shop. So, is there a point in clinging to bookstores? Might we be better off taking our own books (or Kindle!) to the local coffee shop, along with a laptop to browse new titles? What is it about bookstores–besides the rare occasion when a book is needed IMMEDIATELY and it happens to be in stock within a reasonable drive–that makes me feel some sort of sentimentality towards their very existence? I love what bookstores offer to me, but my way of using them is simply not profitable for them (apart from the $4 latte I’ll occasionally buy). As our generation grows older and a greater proportion of book buyers move online, how is this business sustainable? What are your thoughts?
Image used under a Creative Commons license courtesy of Flickr user polifemus.
Subscribe by feed
Subscribe by email
Follow on Facebook
