To Till and to Tend

I’m sure we have all been invited to those holiday parties in which we are asked to give a gift for a grab bag of Hanukkah Harry (aka Secret Santa). The gift grab bag idea is a good one, as every person gets a gift without having to buy more than one. However, this good idea has been made great. Meet the White Elephant. A White Elephant gift is an item that the gifter already owns. Though I know this is not a new concept, last week was my first experience with the idea.

This past holiday season, I went to a holiday party in which guests were asked to bring a wrapped present for a White Elephant gift bag. I spent the days prior searching around my apartment for something that I don’t need and would still make a great gift. I tend to hold onto things…so there were lots of options. Picture frames, random memorabilia from travels and school and good old chatchkas.  I narrowed down the options by asking myself, what can I give to both a boy and a girl that I have not used in at least a month? I looked in my fridge and found my gift – wine that I had yet to drink.  After all, what’s more appropriate for a White Elephant gift than a re-gift? That night I went to my party with jelly donuts and white elephant gift in hand. We all exchanged our gift and got a good laugh out of them. Humorously I actually received a stuffed white elephant!  

I left the party with a stuffed white elephant and an inspiring lesson.  I really liked that idea and kept the theme going when I was trying to think of a gift to give to my best friend. She has always expressed a love for these Under Armor pants that I owned. I hadn’t worn them in nearly a year and decided they would be perfect for her. After a good laugh, she was thrilled by the gift.  This Chanukah I learned a good lesson about gift-giving.  Besides for the fact that it may be a perfect gift, a white elephant/re-gift is a great way to reduce consumption and increase happiness.

This month, I participated in a challenging and yet extremely eye-opening, conversation.  When I received an e-mail that a student-organized group at Columbia, called ROOTEd (Respecting Ourselves and Others Through Education), was dedicating one of its weekly discussion sessions to “the environmental movement,” I jumped on board.  ROOTEd, as their website best explains, is “dedicated to facilitating respectful informed discussions about diversity in the United States with regards to power and privilege issues.”

It is really no surprise that even in our environmental movement, which ideally seeks proper care of the earth so that all have equal access to a healthy life, is, like many other social movements and political systems, affected by differences in power and privilege. After all, different people are affected by the environment differently and may not have all the same resources with which to respond.

What caught my attention at this ROOTEd discussion was a sense of frustration on what the environmental movement should seek to accomplish and what traits constitute an “environmentalist.” A good majority of students was extremely agitated at the trendy consumer mode the environmental movement has taken, especially the valorization of purchasing green products when so many cannot afford them.  We discussed that perhaps those who act frugally when it comes to saving money through conserving water, electricity, and buying less are better environmentalists than those who shop in Whole Foods and wear bamboo shoes.

This idea brings up two important issues. One, should those whose socio-economic conditions force them to live frugally, be considered environmentalists? Or, is it rather a title bestowed on those who live a green lifestyle because they choose to? This week’s New Yorker Magazine mentions Van Jones, a man working to get the U.S. to establish green collar jobs for the economically disadvantaged. He relevantly states, “The green economy should not be just about reclaiming thrown-away stuff, it should be about reclaiming thrown away communities.” Perhaps then with more green-collar jobs like installing solar panels and constructing mass-transit systems, we can help others acquire better lifestyles, while enabling them to do so in an environmentally responsible way (although again, because the jobs would be provided, not chosen, does this actually make green collar workers environmentalists?). This topic is one that I cannot do justice to in this short blog, but I encourage you to think and talk about it (feel free to post your comments!).

Secondly, many of the students at the session said that although they care for the environment and try to do right, they refuse to be called “environmentalists.”  These students identified themselves as social justice advocators, often working to help feed the homeless and teach underprivileged children, yet when it comes to the environmental movement, they have not found a connection to helping people, rather they find it as a connection to money, “stuff,” and the latest trends.  This is incredibly sad and a sign that perhaps the environmental movement needs to rethink its image.  There is nothing wrong with pretty canvas bags and organic tee-shirts, but this cannot be the all-encompassing criterion for living green.

Overall, I believe that what being an environmentalist really means is first and foremost, acting to decrease one’s carbon footprint with the notion that this should have positive social affects, securing the well being and comfortable livelihoods for all.  It is about being a person who is simultaneously responsible for fellow humankind and for the environment that sustains us.

 

I fly.  I fly a lot.  There.  I said it, I’ve admitted my problem.  This year has been a crazy year of flying – I averaged close to a flight a month. I had weddings in Los Angeles, Chicago and Israel; my baby nephew and his parents moved out to San Francisco; I had work conferences in various states in the US and delegations abroad.

The problem you ask?

The flights were really expensive.  Not that kind of expensive – many of the flights were frequent flier tickets, gifts or for work, so I didn’t pay very much in dollars.  But those are not the costs I’m referring to.  It’s the costs that don’t come with a dollar sign attached – the environmental externalities. My 11 flights emitted approximately 22 tons of carbon dioxide into our atmosphere.  To put the 22 tons in context, excluding flying, my carbon footprint is an impressive 7 tons (the global average is 5.5).  Including flying, I become worse than the average American (27 tons) [note, you can see those stats after you complete the carbon calculator].

As aware as I am, I don’t regret a single flight.  Because I flew, I danced wildly in celebration, connected regularly with my nephew (and other relatives) and furthered the mission of the Jewish environmental movement.  In the rare occasion that I’m not willing to alter my behavior for the benefit of the environment, what am I to do?

For now, I offset these emissions. Because carbon dioxide is a global pollutant, if I contribute CO₂ here in America and reduce it anywhere else around the world, the net effect on the globe is zero. This is how people become “carbon neutral.” I am not offsetting everything – I generally tread lightly on the earth (through wind power, public transportation and farmers markets) and feel comfortable with emissions that are produced by those actions.

For my work flights, COEJL is offsetting through the Heschel Center’s Good Energy Initiative based in Israel (like this blogger).  One of my cross-country trips was offset through a generous gift from my interns and the rest I’m in the process of offsetting by buying carbon credits sold through the cap and trade programs set up through volunteer and state regulated initiatives in the Chicago Climate Exchange (and if that doesn’t work out, through carbonfund.org).

It’s hard to understand and even harder to calculate the externalities of our actions.  Though the carbon calculator and offset science remains imperfect, it’s a method to take responsibility for our actions.  At this time, it’s the most I can hope to do.

For further information:

A piece by Rabbi Julian Sinclair about the Jewish meaning behind carbon offsetting

You know it’s December when the Christmas Carols begin.  In the car. At the mall. In the grocery store. The music is unavoidable.  At least the lyrics are generally upbeat and the message is uplifting.  But this December, the coal industry co-opted Christmas.  In an unparalleled green-washing ploy (worse, even than Chevron and Dixie), the coal industry (through a front group dubbed “America’s Power”) has sunk to a new low: an interactive video in which inane chunks of coal sing parodies of familiar Christmas songs.  As a Jew, I may not believe in Jesus as my Savior and King, but I certainly would not suggest that coal should hold that title in his stead.  And I certainly cannot condone the sacrilegious ad campaign of an industry that is the leading cause of climate change.

Viewers of the ad are invited to select a background and dress the coal bits in a variety of hats and scarves before selecting from a menu of songs, like “Clean Coal Night” and “Frosty the Coalman,” in which the chunks exclaim:

“Frosty the Coalman is getting cleaner everyday
He’s affordable and adorable and helps workers keep their pay
There must have some magic in Clean Coal technology
For when they looked for pollutants, there was nearly none to see.”

But the hats and scarves can’t disguise the truth: clean coal is a myth.

 First, there isn’t a clear definition.  In fact, to some, clean coal simply means that the coal was bathed before burning.  Generally, when I hear people refer to “clean coal,” I assume they mean that the power plant captures the carbon emissions and injects it deep into the earth’s surface.  An interesting concept, to be sure.  However, at this point, it’s as fanciful as Rudolph.  Sure, we can invest billions of dollars into exploring clean coal – as our leaders on both sides of the aisle suggest – but wouldn’t our money be better spent investing in alternatives to coal?  As Larry Schweiger, President and CEO of the National Wildlife Federation, said in the launch for a coal reality campaign, “It’s time to build a better energy future with existing clean sources like wind and solar that will create jobs, boost our economy and confront the climate crisis head-on.”  After all, no matter how clean it may eventually be to burn coal, we’re still blowing off the tops of mountains to get it. 

 

It turns out, clean coal caroling is too low – even for the coal industry.  After being subject to scorn by environmental groups, bloggers and Rachel Maddow on MSNBC, America’s Power pulled the carolers from its website and took down its Facebook page – but not before “Asthma Al” and “Black Lung Billy” joined the Group.

 

…And next year, if dirty power still hopes to alter Christmas music to hock its wares, perhaps it should turn to NRDC Blogger Rob Perks for a collection with more accurate lyrics. 

 

[Click here to view "This is Reality," a commercial that tells the truth about coal today]

[Though the coal industry pulled its ad, you can still view "Frosty the Coal Man" here]
[When you're done viewing, click here to tell America's Power to clean up its act]

Today we are happy to introduce a new blogger! Moti Rieber is a rabbi and the Federation director in Wichita, Kansas.  He also serves on the steering committee of Kansas Interfaith Power & Light, and writes the blogs Fed Reb and Jewish Simplicity.  He will post here every other Wednesday.

Popular legend has it that the day after Thanksgiving, “Black Friday,” is the busiest shopping day of the year. Anti-consumerist activists have for some years been designating this day “Buy Nothing Day.” This is a day not to go to the mall, not to add to the balance on your credit cards, but rather to start thinking about how to spend this holiday season giving the gift of love, of self, rather than of material goods.

This year, of course, we’re in recession, so is it irresponsible to “Buy Nothing” when the economy depends so much on consumer spending? Well, as Juliet Schor points out in this post on the Center for a New American Dream website, it was financial shenanigans and the housing bubble that caused the problem. For an economic recovery, the pump will need to be primed at a level high above the average consumer.

In addition, many Americans are in hock up to their ears with credit card and mortgage debt, and the wiser option at this stage is to cut down on purchases, pay down debt, and increase the rate of savings, which hovers around zero for Americans. (According to Consumer Reports, in 2006, 23% of shoppers were still carrying holiday-related credit card debt the following March.)

Remember that the cost of every purchase includes not just the price of the item but the price to advertise it, ship it, package it and dispose of it when it breaks down. Much of this cost is in oil, something to think about in this time of global climate change.

And most importantly, real meaning and purpose cannot be found in the mall, or in the exchange of material goods. Real purpose can only be found in human connection, in time spent with friends and loved ones, in volunteering – generally giving the gift, not of stuff, but of self. And that’s the gift that keeps on giving.

(Of course, Jews who observe Shabbat know that “Buy Nothing Day” comes every week!)

As I pointed out on my last blog post, “not-good” companies are trying to present themselves as “good” companies through unusual advertisements.  Chevron, one of the major fossil-fuel companies, has taken an interesting route in their advertising. They’re not even attempting to alter their image – they’ve put their advertising bucks into claiming individual action is the solution. No doubt, I believe each one of us has responsibility to do what we can to better the world, but Judaism (and all other value systems, too) teaches us that we are to lead the way and model good behavior… not throw the responsibility onto others.  League of Conservation Voters points out that if Chevron execs took this campaign seriously, they have a few behaviors they could change, too.

The LCV states in a press release that went public last week:

In train stations, at bus stops, online, even on our coffee cups, Chevron ads are trying to convince us that the key to ending our energy crisis is individual action.  Over pictures of everyday Americans, taglines from Chevron’s “Will You Join Us” ad campaign read:

“I will leave the car at home more.”
“I will take my golf clubs out of the trunk.”
“I will replace 3 light bulbs with CFLs.”
“I will finally get a programmable thermostat.”
“I will consider buying a hybrid.”

All good ideas, certainly, but no matter how many clubs they’re carrying in their golf bags, no matter how many light bulbs they change, no matter how hard they consider that hybrid, the folks at Chevron could probably do a little more.  

Click here to see what other suggestions the LCV has. 

 Environmentalists must be doing something right – Dixie, the maker of standard disposable plates is fighting back.  People are increasingly becoming aware that our garbage gets piled into a landfill and are consequently making conscious decisions to find alternatives.  Whether it’s vowing to never use disposables again, switching to biodegradable plates or simply using disposables less, people are finding alternatives to standard Dixie products. 

Jews United for Justice had their first fundraising dinner last weekend in DC – hear it was quite successful.  Their takeaways were actual copies of their wonderful new publication, Green & Just Celebrations.  Hat tip to JUFJ.  This publication, while DC area specific, is applicable to most any locale and will be indispensable for synagogue bar/bat mitzvah planning, for couples making wedding choices, and for vendors seeking ways to offer more sustainable options to eco-savvy clients. Featured above is one of their suggestions, a tsedakah basket centerpiece.
Yasher kochachem to authors Rebecca Shaloff and Joelle Novey, along with Darya Mattes and Jacob Feinspan.
Here’s the announcement from their website:
Green & Just Celebrations

A few days ago, I purchased a sandwich from a local deli. As an afterthought, I asked for an extra piece of cheese for the baby. Before I could take the slice, the counterperson smiled brightly and immediately placed the two-by-two inch square into a 16-ounce cup with a plastic lid. “Is that for here or to go?” she queried, stuffing a three-inch stack of napkins into a plastic bag. As she rang up my order, I surreptitiously returned the napkins to a receptacle on the counter. The cup, unfortunately, would have to be “recycled” into a blog post.

Last week, the G8 announced that they would (with, as the Daily Grist reports, a number of caveats) aim to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by fifty percent from current levels by mid-century. An ambitious goal, to be sure – yet, the scientific community has told us we need to reduce emissions by 80 percent from 1990 levels to avoid the most catastrophic effects of global warming. Whether the right number is fifty percent or eighty percent – the numbers are high enough to make your stomach sink and your head spin. What does it mean to cut emissions by more than half? And how can we possibly accomplish this? Certainly, how can we accomplish this when we live in a society that finds it necessary to cover a single slice of cheese with a cup and a lid?

The answer is we can’t.

As long as we live in a society where a sandwich is accompanied by its weight in napkins; where a container of yogurt is served with a plastic knife, fork and spoon; and a single gallon of milk is placed inside two plastic grocery bags, we will not win the battle against climate change. Solving the climate crisis is going to require a fundamental change in our national consciousness. We must learn to rethink consumption and redefine our “needs.” And we cannot simply defer to the government to make these changes.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed when I think of the enormity of our needed reductions. But the Styrofoam cup is half full: with so much excess, the initial cuts will be easy. In fact, a report released earlier this month by Environment America announced that simple building efficiency measures could reduce US energy consumption by 11%. A December 2007 report by McKinsey and Company identified more than 250 existing technologies and strategies that could reduce US emissions by 28% in 2030. And imagine how we can each augment these numbers with countless changes in our own lives – from taking our own grocery bags to the market to riding public transportation to work.

Indeed, America will come a long way toward addressing the climate crisis when cashiers begin to serve fries without a side of plastic. And tomorrow when I take my kids for icecream, I’ll be sure to ask for it in a cone – hold the cup and spoon.

[I'd love to hear your stories about waste – and ways to get to 80 percent. Please share both your experiences with excess and helpful tips for reducing consumption in the comments below]