Forgive me, but I’m going to assume that your relationship with New Year’s resolutions is, like mine, complicated. I mean that in a vintage facebook relationship-status kind of way: It’s complicated, which, back in the innocent early days of social media, usually meant that whatever you had going on, it wasn’t binding.
Because that’s how New Year’s resolutions seem to work. You make a commitment on the first of the year, have cultural permission to welch on it before the last, and are expected to conjure another flimsy vow on the first day of the next year.
That sounds stupid. So maybe we should look at where this tradition came from to understand what it’s supposed to mean.
The practice began in Babylon, around 2,000 B.C.E.. Instead of taking place in the winter, the New Year was timed to the vernal equinox, celebrated in a spring festival called Akitu. Akitu marked the beginning of the planting season, so it made sense that those who celebrated marked the occasion by returning borrowed farming gear. This expanded into the repaying of debts. The Romans and eventually Europeans adopted the practice, shifted the new year to January, and started making all sorts of other annual promises.
And here we are: at the gym with our green juices and self-help audiobooks and newly downloaded finance apps. That’s fine, but you have to love that the O.G. Babylonian resolution was about doing right by your neighbor, not improving yourself. I love it, at least.
Let’s grab hold of that pony and ride it into a better future. Let’s… you know where this is going. I’ve got some absolutely achievable environmental shit for you to do. Keep scrolling—not too fast, though, because here’s 👇 a resolution you can check off your list immediately: Share one5c with everyone you know. Let’s make this the year that we save the world.
The answer to the climate emergency is not to go all Earth Monk and lead a perfect life that does no damage to the world. Because that’s not possible. OK, you might be able to set up in a cave somewhere and subsist off algae, but if you are a part of the modern world, your very life is damage.
That’s not to say you shouldn’t live it. But we can all do a better by finding small but meaningful changes that we can sustain. These little adjustments scale into large benefits; millions of us making them will have more of an impact than a handful of perfect beings. Here are four great options:
1. Eat for the world
The easiest, big, planet-savin’-est swing you can take is to consume fewer animal products. Food-based agriculture produces 35 percent of anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions worldwide, and if you break those emissions down, 57 percent of them come from animal cuiltivation; 29 percent come from farming plants. Why? You not only need to grow the animals, you need to grow their food, too, so the practice requires a lot more land and resources. (More here.)
If you can’t go full veg—and I get that it’s not possible for everyone—try giving up red meat. Ruminants’ many-chambered stomachs cause them to burp the greenhouse gas methane, which is 25 times as potent as carbon dioxide. So there’s a second reason to exit the crimson zone. Even if you can’t drop red meat completely, cut back. You can do this.
It’s easier than you think. You can stay healthy and eat well, and, if you just can’t kick that medium rare craving, you can always take up hunting, which, in addition to being a fun and challenging sport, is carbon-negative. (If that has your ears perked, get started now in time for next season. Check out this fantastic new hunters’ guide from Outdoor Life.)
2. Ditch the detergent pods
Isn’t it amazing that the polyvinyl alcohol coating around detergent pods can dissolve completely in water and release your detergent with no adverse effects? It would be amazing if that were true. But the soluble casing around those pods—like every other bioplastic—is still plastic. Which means that, as the stuff degrades, it becomes the microplastic particles that we’re currently finding in our oceans, waterways, food, and, uh, blood.
It is hard as hell to ace plastic out of your life completely. That stuff enables our entire way of existence. But, as with every fight, there are easy wins. Pods are one, and they let you take a victory lap, because powdered detergent is about a tenth the price. Even cheaper: finding a nearby refill store and loading up on bulk cleansers.
Pods are, of course, just a figurehead for single-use plastic. Leading a plastic-perfect life is beyond most of our abilities, but it’s easy to skip buying stuff that you know you’re just going to throw away. Start there.
Speaking of which…
3. Get your food out of the trash
According to the EPA, 24 percent of American garbage is wasted food. It’s the largest contributor to landfills, by weight. The National Resources Defense Council reports that the average American throws away 400 pounds of good eats a year, which equates to 1,250 calories per day, per person.
This isn’t just wasteful, it’s an emissions problem. First off, that food had to be made: out of water, energy, acreage, and so on; all of those components carry a cost in emissions. But it gets worse if your half-eaten burrito enters a landfill, where it begins the process of anaerobic decomposition—rotting without oxygen—and produces methane in the process.
Fortunately, you can keep your meals out of the dump: Start by buying ingredients that are easy to consume completely. Then, compost your scraps. These two steps alone can have a gigantic impact. More details here and here.
4. Don’t give assholes your money
I am talking about banking, not your friend who fakes a bathroom emergency every time the check’s about to hit the table. The four largest retail banks—JPMorgan Chase, Citi, Wells Fargo, and Bank of America—are the four largest investors in fossil fuel expansion since 2015. They take your deposits and give them to oil companies to drill new wells and build new pipelines.
The banks will tell you that your money is in a different pool from institutional investors’ cash, which is what they use to finance those projects. As they said in ancient Babylon, that’s bullshit. Money is fungible, and if a bank that holds your assets invests in fossil fuels, your deposits make that possible.
One of the most powerful actions you can take is to ensure that your funds live in an institution that shares your values; and the Big Four don’t. Deposit your paycheck in a local bank, credit union, or an establishment that has committed to not financing fossil fuel projects.
At the very least, make sure it’s not on this list (PDF; see pages 7 and 8). And if you find that you need to make a change, send your old bank a breakup note on the way out, to let them know that their practices cost them your business. I understand that this is a pain in the ass, which is why I made this step-by-step guide.
None of us are perfect. Being human is hard on the planet. But channel those Babylonian neighbors and try to go easier. You can make a change that makes an impact, and I promise you it beats living in a cave. Have a great year.
Take care of yourselves—and the rest of us, too.
Joe
joe@one5c.com