The Living-Green Myth

Among the “greatest threats to environmental sustainability,” according to Michael Maniates, is the “living-green myth” (p. 15). This myth says that small personal choices by consumers—like avoiding air travel when the train will do, composting kitchen waste, eschewing disposable shopping bags, or cycling instead of driving—can save the planet directly and by inspiring others, creating a “norm cascade” that will change the world. The living-green myth is “a tale of an affirming politics of individual behavior, neighborly inspiration, and the gentle coercion of a changing ‘normal’ that breeds a subterranean cluster of irresistible social forces. It’s a story about how single drops of individual consumer action coalesce into a tsunami of norm shifting, business realignment, and enlightened government leadership” (p. 5). But it is a myth. It is “utter nonsense” (p. 5), says Maniates. Environmentalists have been promoting this strategy for decades now and it isn’t working. Thinking minor lifestyle changes will save the planet is like “throwing a few glasses of water on a burning building” (p. 6) and expecting it to stop the inferno.

The living-green myth is counterproductive. It scapegoats consumers for environmental problems—saying they simply haven’t done enough. It lets policy makers and businesses off the hook. It is ineffective and it wears people out: “Educating people about the virtues of green living hasn’t moved the needle much, or for very long, and scare tactics about the state of the environment wear thin fast. Once these efforts are exhausted, guilt and shame take over as the primary instruments of recruitment to the living-green cause. I suspect that we’ve all been there. Who among us hasn’t dispensed a dollop of guilt or a sprinkle of gentle shame when trying to convince a friend or a family member to live lighter on the planet?” (p. 40–41). (Who among us? I believe that I haven’t, but this book isn’t aimed at people like me.) Even more important, the living-green story “obscures the deeper value of living lean and buying green” (p. 20). It makes living green seem to be about sacrifices and guilt, when it should be about community and joy.

What are we to do? Maniates doesn’t reject green living—conscious choices to reduce one’s environmental impact. Rather, he rejects the “living-green myth”—the idea that these little actions can save the “bleeding” (p. 1) planet. His advice is to smile kindly at all those lists about how to live green—one of which interestingly suggests that seven ways to fight climate change are to “eat lentils, don’t pre-rinse your dishes, use bar shampoo, replace toilet paper with bidets, buy fewer clothes and keep them longer, pay attention to nature, and ditch the outdoor bug zapper” (p. 84)—while adopting a much more ambitious “to do” list. Maniates’s seven-point program—on which I will elaborate below—is to 1) let go (of the living-green myth), 2) get smart (about how to live green yourself), 3) experience eco-local initiatives, 4) think organizationally by employing “choice edits,” 5) “slow it down and step it up,” 6) take the long view, and 7) find joy. If you genuinely feel that climate change is a serious crisis, this approach may be very appealing to you.

Ultimately, Maniates’s point is that greens can enjoy the benefits of traditional religions (not the eternity part though), by doubling down, fully embracing the green life and experiencing the joy that it brings. 1) Let go of the living-green myth. Who could disagree? Any individual’s choices can’t have much environmental impact on a planet with over eight billion inhabitants. 2) Get smart. Who could disagree? If we are to collectively live greener, we should adopt the green-living behaviors that work best. 3) In advocating “eco-local initiatives,” Maniates argues that “for living-green practitioners to make a difference, isolation is their kryptonite,” but “one antidote to the creeping banality of eco living is participation . . . in local projects and initiatives” (p. 93). In other words, if you worship alone, you’ll lose your religion. But, if you form deep bonds with co-religionists, you and they will thrive in the faith. You have the “opportunity and obligation to bring others into the fold” (p. 96), but “avoid acting from a sense of guilt or obligation—there’s no sustaining energy in that” (p. 96). Obviously, this is a book for greens, not people in other religions. I’m not hesitant to call environmentalism a religion in this case, partly because Maniates uses explicitly religious terminology to rouse his congregation, as when he mentions “the fold” (above). In other places, he talks of “homilies” (p. 2), “penance” (p. 9), “sin” (p. 20), “rituals” (p. 29), and even “devout green living” (p. 114). (For more on the religious nature of modern environmentalism, see ​Robert Nelson, The New Holy Wars: Economic Religion vs. Environmental Religion in Contemporary America [Penn State University Press, 2010] for Independent Institute.)

Thinking organizationally (4) can sometimes be good advice. However, Maniates downplays the challenges behind collective action (for example, as explained by Mancur Olson in The Logic of Collective Action [Harvard University Press, 1965]), probably because he sees no other option in the face of “assaults” (p. 1) on the planet. His central idea is “choice edits”—reconfiguring the maze of life to steer individual behavior and influence preferences. “The trick is to create systems such that people do the right things unintentionally, even when they’re spacing out or their environmental commitments waver” (p. 44). These work especially well when do-gooders are in charge, as on college campuses. My favorite example—something that might be widely emulated—is the finding that eliminating trays in student cafeterias “has been shown to cut food waste by up to 30 percent on its own” (p. 44). (Alas, there’s no footnote given to document this result.) Choice editing often involves coercion by the state, as when Maniates discusses bans on single-use shopping bags and implores: “Next stop: [ban] bottled drinks of all varieties” (p. 66). That might ruffle a few feathers and cause a bit of inconvenience. Maniates admits that “intentionally changing the architecture of choice” is “typically top-down, and sometimes sneaky and manipulative. My advice to the squeamish is to get over it” (p. 100). Get over it and organize!

What does Maniates mean by (5) “slow it down and step it up”? It may be a very tough sell, but he argues that “almost any income we spend or save is destined for environmental harm in our ever-expanding growth-oriented economy. Money spent on green products, for example, goes into the pockets of workers, producers, and investors who will eventually use it in environmentally destructive ways. Money socked away in a savings or investment account will be loaned out and ultimately used in similarly distressing fashion” (p. 103). What to do? Spend money to restore the environment. Donate to the desperately poor, whose spending has a smaller environmental footprint. And “work fewer hours, earn lower salaries, and spend less money” (p. 104). If you accept Maniates’s premises, the logic is impeccable. Voluntarily scaling back like this may be a very effective test of who is a true believer.

His “taking the long view” (6) means thinking of ways to improve the lives of your great-grandchildren—things like ending the need for aggressive recycling by adopting durable, reusable alternatives and moving away from automobility (even electric vehicles) in favor of mass transit. As mass transit works best with high urban population densities, this seems to imply more expensive housing and, therefore, smaller families. Maniates doesn’t express any worries that our great-grandchildren will think our anxieties about them were odd and old-fashioned in light of technological developments in coming years. I suspect they will find many of our concerns quaint, just as we find the concerns about us of people from fifty and one hundred years ago outmoded. Interestingly, his “taking the long view” doesn’t appear to be concerned with the very long run of eternity.

Finally, 7) find joy. I concur completely! Though I look for it somewhere else.