You Can't Always Get What You Want
But if you try sometimes...
Joining the Ministry of the Future Book Club, I was excited to be part of a community and determined to find a Daily Climate Project. But… I was stumped. What daily life project makes sense for me? In the last 20 years, I’ve done them all. Some are easier than others: I don’t like shopping anyway, so not buying clothes for a year was fine. But going vegan didn’t work, I became terribly ill for several months and no medical professional could help me. Other things were super easy when I moved to Europe: for example, living car-free and avoiding plastic illuminated how infrastructure and environmental regulations play a major role in what choices are available to the public. As I got older, I became more and more aware of systemic issues and quickly turned into one of those people who rolls their eyes when told we can save the world if we just change light bulbs and use tote bags at the grocery store. The emphasis on individual action to “save the planet” still concerns me deeply, as oil companies gladly use it as a distraction from systemic change.
I was also concerned that my biggest personal choice, living on a sailboat, would not be relevant to most people. But, with the rise in popularity of tiny-living (like Vanlife, tiny homes, minimalism, etc), I went with it in combination with some soul-searching reading and journaling. In the United States, the middle class is being crushed, so many are turning to tiny-living as an alternative to home-ownership, which is no longer financially feasible. So, perhaps some people want to know if I’m really “living the dream” or not.
To my surprise, I found boatlife offers a lot of universal lessons for sustainable living. Two things stood out in my first few months of journalling about boatlife and climate:
Individual Choices can have valuable impacts beyond the individual, and
Fighting consumer culture requires engaging in culture.
Through the Ministry of the Future Book Club, my frustration with ‘personal choice’ has eased. I’ve always said that living an eco-friendly life, despite being a drop in the ocean, is good for my mental health because I’m living in alignment with my values. But now, I see personal choice as a gateway to collective action and an easy approach to showing that eco-friendly lifestyles aren’t that radical. The latter is important to solidifying the narrative of a better future, especially given we’re up against arguments like “environmentalists are extremists and will destroy the economy and your convenient lifestyle.” We can prove otherwise by living well.
Further, when these lifestyle changes are seen as acceptable, it makes being green that much more inviting. Personal actions offer immediate, tangible results that can be repeated by our friends, family, co-workers, and others. When they see us engaged in and enjoying an eco-friendly action, choice, or decision, it removes the unknown and says, “It can be done.” As it spreads, our individual actions transform into collective action and shifting societal norms, eventually becoming cyclical.
As I’m sure many readers already know, narratives and framing are very important. You catch more flies with honey. For example, let’s consider how boatlife has changed my cooking habits. I employ a lot of Depression Era strategies. People can easily feel like Depression Era strategies are for the poor or people with limited resources. Or, we can reframe that hard time as an era offering us lessons in conservation. The same can be said for Victory Gardens during World War II. It was framed as patriotic to grow your own food because it helped the government offer more rations to the soldiers—it was considered essential to the war effort, hence the name Victory Garden. Why not talk about sustainable living like that today? Living sustainably is patriotic because we are protecting our country from climate change; we’re meeting the needs of our friends and neighbours; we’re supplying our communities with home-grown sustenance; we’re becoming energy-independent and self-sufficient; and more. Aren’t we supposed to be buying American? Perhaps community gardens are not seen as very radical where you live—maybe they are. You could also employ a less patriotic framing, like “Be a rebel, start a garden.”
Tiny-living also provides a unique perspective on consumer culture. Boatlife, Vanlife, and Tiny-Homes force minimalism upon you. The other day when I walked through a store (looking for flipflops to wear in marina showers) I saw all the crap; all the impulse-buy items, the trending seasonal decor, the super cute things, the soft fuzzy things, the things that serve some function but will break or fade or be outdated in a few months. I saw the consumer culture bombarding me with stuff to buy at disturbingly low prices. And I felt immune.
I felt immune to consumerism. I literally have nowhere to put this crap. And that was the most freeing feeling ever.
I felt a little invincible, a bit powerful—like I’d lifted a veil. No no no, you can’t convince me to give up my hard-earned cash! I’m here for exactly what I need and no more. Ha.
How do people break free from consumer culture when they don’t live in a tiny space? I dislike the language around most attempts, like a ‘no-buy challenge.’ It shouldn’t be a challenge, but it is, because we are conditioned to buy. In the United States, where the freedom of speech is abused by advertising, we are told we are ‘not enough’ unless we have this product. We are not beautiful, happy, relaxed, up-to-date, youthful, or *insert insecurity here* enough, but this product will fill the void! Ugh.
Maybe ‘challenge’ is the right word because it acknowledges the difficulty of changing automatic behaviour, but it also makes living more eco-friendly sound HARD. Going against the grain is hard, at least at first. But then it just becomes your every day, and that’s how we invite people in to change. With that said, sure, do a challenge. Don’t buy clothes for a year. Buy groceries without plastic packaging. Take up visible mending. Do whatever is right for you.
The goal isn’t to be perfect, the goal is to be mindful.
I confess, I also dislike the term “mindful consumerism.” Yes, we literally consume food and drink, and we purchase things we need like clothes to keep us warm and pots and pans to cook food in. But we are not just ‘consumers.’ The one label does not define our whole selves. It’s when we engage in the other things that define us, that we can break free from consumer culture. If we’re busy being things, then there’s less time to consume things… What else are you? What else are you besides a consumer?
Creator (of art, music, poetry, prose, etc)
Dancer
Acter (community theatre? or are you into stage set design?)
Gardener
Event Planner (beach clean-ups, birthdays, holidays, protests, retirement parties, family vacations, etc.)
*Your Favourite Sport or Game* Player
Community Leader
Mentor
Family Member
What activity makes you feel fulfilled?
While living on a sailboat naturally limits my purchases, what it gives me in exchange is much bigger. Sailing requires planning. My boat requires attention both at sea and in the harbour—I’m trimming sails, fixing leaky portholes, or chopping watermelon at a 30-degree angle in 30-degree Celcius heat. And never mind those magical moments when I make eye contact with dolphins or go surfing with seals.
Sailboat life offers experiences; doing things in real life and being part of a unique community. This is how we overcome consumer culture—by engaging in actual culture. By going out and doing things, by finding our people, and by immersing ourselves in the natural world. When we feel connected to each other and to the place we live, that void we fill with shopping is smaller, if not gone. The United States doesn’t want you to engage in ‘culture’ outside of consumer culture; you are supposed to feel a void so that you shop to fill it. And if you’re busy shopping, then you’re not bonding with the people around you and uniting over causes and trying to improve the status quo!
You don’t need to live in a tiny house, or a van, or any other alternative lifestyle to free yourself from consumer culture. When I say we can fight consumer culture by engaging in "‘culture,” I’m not just talking about the high-brow, fancy, expensive things, like attending a ballet or symphony (not that there’s anything wrong with enjoying those things, they’re pretty cool!). I mean engage in the culture of where you live and your community’s culture: Go have a picnic in the park with friends. Grill in your family’s yard. Start a community garden. Organise a wall mural project at your kid’s school. Create a communal childcare organisation in your neighbourhood or a block party on your street for some holiday. Find a rock-climbing buddy, start a colouring book club, a poetry night, join the local community theatre or a maker’s space. Trivia anyone? Bowling? Hiking? Already have a little something going on, like you and a few surf buddies? Why not gather your friends around a common cause?
Tiny-Living is not required, but I took the plunge. So how does it work? Living on a sailboat is like a cheat code to being green; sustainability is no longer a ‘choice’. You’re always thinking of new ways to conserve everything—electricity, water, fuel and whatever your stove runs on (mine is propane). There’s a control panel where you need to flip a switch for something to have power before you can turn it on. We often turn off the refrigerator for 8 hours at a time because it remains cold for that long. We don’t have a freezer, which would easily be the largest drain on our electricity supply. In warm climates, we hand wash our clothes and hang them to dry, which has multiple benefits: (1) saves energy, (2) saves money, (3) clothes last longer. If possible, you’re doubling up on purposes: for example, you slow roast something on a cold day while at anchor, allowing the stove to keep the boat warm. Nothing gets power unless it’s in use and nothing is wasted. Moreover, quality of life is largely improved with renewable energy sources. Solar panels and SilentWind (think personal wind turbine) keep our batteries charged, reducing how often we charge them via the generator or engine. All this conservation and resource tracking allows you to be as independent from marinas as possible. You can sail longer, farther, safer, and to more remote and utterly gorgeous locations.
How does my experience of living on a sailboat relate to people living on land? It’s the same as any other Daily Climate Project out there, whether it’s a year of not buying clothes or not flying or only using 2,000 Watts. The biggest revelation I had during this process was that all these ‘challenges’ ask us the same question…
What do you really need?
The answer won’t be the same for everyone. Living in different climates alters baseline needs and approaches to living sustainability. That, and our priorities are different. Some sailors must have a freezer but don’t care about having internet outside of free marina WiFi or the harbour cafe. I’m the opposite. We have different priorities but both of us are living very sustainably. You don’t have to take the same path to get to the same place.
When our generator and engine died at sea, that threw priorities and necessities into harsh relief. We made tough decisions, basically living without electricity for 4 days, meaning limited navigation, communication, no refrigeration, no autopilot, etc. We had to save our batteries to ensure we could call for a tow into the marina when we were near. It was the hardest thing we’ve ever done in our lives. And yet, we developed a routine and systems to get somewhat comfortable in this mild emergency. Of course, we discussed the luxuries of living on land and how people can get used to a variety of living situations. A lot of our life on land included things we thought were necessities but are actually luxuries, and our life now is no poorer without them. In fact, sailing has enriched our lives because it offers personal growth and exposes us to new people and cultures. We gave up a lot of physical luxuries but gained intangible joys.
Asking ourselves what we really need and engaging in quality time with our loved ones—that’s the core of shifting to sustainable lifestyles.
So, I’m curious. What do you really need?
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I loved this Tara, thanks for participating in the book club and for your insightful contribution. As someone who grew up in communism, I know that we do need way less than we think.
Thanks for sharing this Tara. I found something similar after having moved several times. Each move my wife and I have downsized more and more. Nowadays, I think carefully before I make a purchase on something other than food. It's a liberating feeling though and somewhat hard to explain.