Being green – abstinence and accumulation
For a long time being green has been a statement – a declaration of opposition to the mainstream; a shout against the status quo. The green movement has a long and worthy history and in the 21st century it represents a broad church, which if it was painted would encompass more shades of green than a 70’s Dulux chart. We would have vermillion deep-greens, pastel shallow-greens, radical leftist red-greens and plumy conservative blue-greens. Several generations of sociologists have cut their teeth developing such typologies which provide rich maps to this complex and fascinating realm of identity politics.
The axis along which I want to explore contemporary greenness relates to how self-described middle-class greens organise their consumption habits and in particular how they deal with the problem of excess. I am not promising a comprehensive picture here – just another way of cutting up the colour chart, which might prove timely given the recent green turn in UK centrist politics.
There are two ideal types of identity I want to contrast here, which I will term the green aesthete and the green accumulator. For the aesthete the diagnosis of climate change and the widespread recognition that affluent elements of Western society are living beyond their means demands abstinence. For some this is an earthy retreat to the land, to local scales of living, self-sufficiency and recycling – picture Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall without his sports car. For others this abstinence takes a more urbane form – it is about downsizing, investing in durability, bicycling and a near obsessive attention to the provenance and footprint of their purchases. These aesthetes are generally pessimistic about the future; emphasis is placed on treading more slowly and lightly on the earth, on using less for longer.
For green accumulators climate change is an opportunity for accelerated business as usual. Optimistically they believe that economic growth can drive decarbonisation and push us towards sustainability in a post-materialist world. Everything is OK so long as we recycle our Chianti bottles, offset our flights and buy locally. There is nothing wrong with the material quantities in circulation in modern life, only the quality of those stuffs it puts in motion. Lean, mean and efficient, the bright green networked future will be one fresh from the science fiction of hyperbolic cybernetics – think a utopian version of the Matrix.
Aesthetes see accumulators as selfish and greedy ostriches, burying their heads as the landfills grow and the offset forests spread. Accumulators are baffled by the aesthetes and accuse them of being reactionary and of withholding the benefits of growth from those who’ve yet to experience them.
The nub of their differences relate to their faith in the capitalist system and human ingenuity. Aesthetes understand it as a rapacious monster, out of sync with planetary limits. They argue that economic growth is inherently contradictory – hell bent on destroying the very conditions for its own survival; we can not grow our way out of this crises. Accumulators shake their heads. We have been here before, they say. You preached about the ozone hole and food shortages but look how technology helped us out – limits are there to be pushed. They argue that without consumption there can be no market and thus no jobs – we’ll all be unemployed living in mud huts, they chortle.
On both sides tempers are raised and lost, close friends are made and fall out and much ink is spilt.
As the pastel-purple shade of greenness peddled by the New Labour and Smiley Conservatives consensus seeps into the mechanisms of UK public policy and practice it is useful to reflect on what it means to be green now. How does this typology help make sense of recent initiatives?
On the one hand we see vague advocations and demonstrations of abstinence –Cameron momentarily forsakes his car for an eye-catching bicycle, Blair has himself spotted at farmer’s markets and both make much of taking the train. We have discussions of road charging, refuse pricing and domestic energy efficiency (turn off the TV) – all aiming to reduce consumption. We also see numerous market creation initiatives aiming to steer economic growth onto a greener trajectory to assist accumulation – these include subsidies for renewables, public transport and eco-housing. The star of the offset companies is ascendant and commodified carbon is making some people rich – a form of accumulation through absolution.
Both the government and the opposition appear confused, caught out by the public’s green enthusiasms – both are dedicated to maintaining accumulation but are continually reminded of the real and present obstacles posed by the carbon challenge. As they peddle their consensus and scrabble about to justify a nuclear expansion it might be useful to remember the virtues and possibilities of abstinence? Where would this leave us on the colour chart? Deepening the green from pastel purple-green we get deep purple green – a sort of aubergine bruise green. Don’t expect to see that in the manifesto branding.
