Tangent: Keep the Spirit Alive

Whatever we can do as individuals to change the way we live at this suddenly very late date does seem utterly inadequate to the challenge. It’s hard to argue with Michael Specter, in a recent New Yorker piece on carbon footprints, when he says: “Personal choices, no matter how virtuous [N.B.!], cannot do enough. It will also take laws and money.” So it will. Yet it is no less accurate or hardheaded to say that laws and money cannot do enough, either; that it will also take profound changes in the way we live. Why? Because the climate-change crisis is at its very bottom a crisis of lifestyle — of character, even.

Acting on your idealism is a precarious task—go too far, and you'll burn out (or worse yet, lose anyone hoping to follow your model); not far enough, and you'll compromise your integrity right off the bat. But in the end, that's just it—a compromise. Folks like No Impact Man would have you believe that living sustainably is a purely positive experience disguised as sacrifice, but there's no denying that a great many of our climate-mauling habits are pillars of our cultural heritage and psychological welfare: comfort foods that come from halfway around the world (or from brutally-abused cattle, bred and raised right here in the US), driving nowhere in particular for an hour or more, flying home to see the family every once in awhile, flying off to get away from the family every once in awhile (not to mention traveling to world to broaden our horizons), or long showers for staving off a cold winter morning, just to name a few (fun fact! Mexican restaurants use beans refried in lard, which means they're not even VEGETARIAN--but rice-guacamole-cheese-lettuce-fries burritos are delicious).

On the other hand, I do think we can improve the quality of our lives in committing ourselves to preserving our planet. The problem is that when reducing your carbon footprint is the only upside, it's exhausting to hold on to that commitment. Riding a bicycle is a big part of my idealism, but unlike all the other things I do to reduce my carbon footprint, I would just go apeshit without it. It cools my nerves, helps me sleep at night, and makes my meals taste better (does that sound a little like love? a little more like 420?). The pecuniary and health benefits are just icing on the cake; riding enriches my life in a way that short, cold showers and secondhand clothes never could.

I'm giving up a little ground here and there.

I'm bracing myself for the day it all comes crashing down.

I'm riding all the time.