Rich vs. Poor – 15 July 2008
Joseph Stiglitz in his book Globalization and Its Discontents likened much international economic policy to the deployment of modern arms. You don’t have to directly engage with those you have an impact on. If you did engage and saw the results of your actions, your tactics might well change.
Likewise the minority of us who significantly benefit from modern economic policy and globalisation aren’t normally reminded daily of the majority who don’t.
Our family moved to East London in South Africa in May to work for two years. We own a modern car, live in a decent house, and have money in the bank. This is in stark contrast to how most East Londoners live, particularly those in the townships of Mdantsane and Duncan Village. Official data – somewhat out of date, but still cited – suggest around half the local population is (or have been) unemployed, with about half the adult population recorded as receiving no (formal) monthly income, and over two-thirds of households receiving less than the recognized subsistence level income. Every other day I am asked by one of the city’s unemployed if I could give them a job. Love to, if I had jobs to give.
On the way to our daughter’s school we pass a group of men gathered at a corner of our local shopping centre. The signs say welder, painter or similar. They wait all day for some work; presumably some occasionally get it. Others try their luck as street-sellers. We now own a couple of brooms, plastic buckets and wire animals. I am keeping an eye out for a good winter jacket, a rake and a clothes rack. There seems to be the usual roaring trade in label clothing and Springbok paraphernalia which I will likely purchase for the next rugby test.
Naturally enough, this is not a static picture. Things are changing as South Africa extracts itself from the legacy of apartheid. A just-released survey indicates that nationally the number of black South Africans in the category of wealthy over-40s has increased 30 per cent since 2004 and should grow 10 per cent per year for the foreseeable future.
However, the Cape Town University-Unilever Institute-Synovate survey also notes that the rich over-40s make up just six per cent of the adult population but have 20 per cent of the annual disposable income. Those at the bottom are seemingly held back by such things as poor education, again, according to an OECD report , substantially but not solely a result of apartheid; and while local government pursues positive change, according to those I have spoken to in the Eastern Cape, there remains a yawning gap between the desire to improve things and the ability to do so.
On our way to work and school we greet women working as domestics and men doing gardening and the like. From all accounts, many have been up since 5am to get to work by 8. This is because most have to get from the townships on the outskirts of East London. One woman who recently lost her job told me she walked from Duncan Village to our neighbourhood because the transport costs were too high. It took two hours. (People take ‘taxis’ which are mini-buses plying set routes; prices have risen steadily to match oil price rises). I wonder what she thinks of those who are rich and white, including myself, who pass her power-walking or jogging to fight off the effects of over-eating and to keep fit. We then get in our cars: very few white folk walk or cycle anywhere.
Naturally there are increasing numbers of well-off black and coloured South Africans as well. Anecdotally many also pursue the trappings of wealth, including going into debt to own the right late-model and expensive car.
There are beggars; and so far they have been very polite. Some adopt the obsequiousness of the black-white divide, using terms such as ‘master’. Others (usually younger) are far more bare-faced: I need money/food and you are rich. Seems a fair observation. Not rude, just persistent. Our house does not have the high walls and security gates of some others in the neighbourhood. We have had a few knocks on the door. One young chap ended up staying and having a sandwich while discussing his desire to join his family in Cape Town. I have no idea whether his story was true, and I gave him no money. Like any good salesman, he would not take no for answer. I had to show him the door, but bore him no ill-will. Not sure he felt the same.
It may seem disingenuous to claim no moral high ground is being sought here. Yet the reality is simply this: in New Zealand, we live comfortable lives as do some South Africans. Both of us benefit from a globalised economy. The difference is the South Africans must deal daily with the perverse contradictions resulting from this, and the direct inheritance of privilege courtesy of apartheid. New Zealanders have also inherited the privilege of our forebears: we also have the ‘right’ genes. The difference is that those who remain in dire poverty are not on our doorstep, and we, or our forebears, were not directly involved in a specific and named form of overt repression. But we still benefit from inequality in the knowledge that a requirement of remaining rich may depend on the majority staying poor.
For example, juxtaposing research on ecological degradation with that of development (see for example the Millennium Ecosystem Assessment) shows increasing incomes for the poor will mean the continuing degradation of ecosystems most needed by the poor to survive long-term. Not only can we not all have a Western middle-class lifestyle due to our ecological footprints , but attempts to do so will punish the poor the most.
This means it is impossible to feel morally superior to well-off South Africans surrounded by poverty, because from a global viewpoint we in New Zealand are in the same situation. While apartheid was perverse, it was only an extreme version of the universal competition for resources. Globally, we practice a form of apartheid by default, where those already privileged will maintain this position by not working hard enough towards equitable access to global wealth.
Stephen
Celebrity chefs cook up a storm – 1 February 2008
Celebrity chefs are the new heroes. These trusted and treasured figures of domestic comfort are now cashing in their collateral to become the conscience of our generation and advocates for improved health, welfare and lifestyle. The kitchen revolution started when Jamie Oliver did his bit to tackle poverty by providing skills and opportunities to street kids in the series Fifteen. Later, with the help of a film crew, he changed the eating habits of a whole London borough of school children and persuaded the British government to inject a significant amount of money into improving the quality of school meals throughout the UK. This week, the crusade continued as Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall (HFW), creator of the River Cottage brand, took to the airwaves of prime-time TV to reveal the truth about intensively-reared poultry. He was committed, courageous and contagious. What’s more, he demonstrated how issues relating to sustainability are central to all walks of life and how everyone, regardless of their professional expertise or imperative, is able to make a constructive contribution.
Intensive poultry farming demonstrates the same addictive and destructive cycles that are the hallmark of most unsustainable practices be it the unrestricted growth of motor transport or deforestation. Modern lifestyles distance us from the impact of our individual actions, our expectations become linked to unsustainable wants and the laws of nature are bent by industry to deliver a product that doesn’t do anyone any good in the long-term. The poultry cycle works like this: we are now eating considerably more meat than any other generation in history. In order to help meet this demand, it is standard industry practice to rear chickens in a heavily mechanical process that develops a shelf product within 40 days of the chick being hatched. To enable this process, birds are kept in overcrowded spaces (17 chickens to a square metre) and under lights for 23.5 hours a day to encourage overeating. In the supermarket we are often swayed to buy this product over the free-range bird because of price differential – let’s face it, to the untrained eye one headless pink chicken looks much alike another – but the bargain prices still have their costs. Would we be so happy to save a few dollars, for instance, if we knew the whole picture – that our saving is subsidised by unnatural growth, abnormal diet, routine pain and antibiotic treatments that mitigate the infectious dangers of living in squalor? Behind the discretion of closed doors, we are able produce artificially cheap meat – both factors lead us to take it for granted and respect it less.
Not only is there a pervasive expectation that meat should be a cheap staple in any square meal but we are flaunting this luxury by being more wasteful. In ‘Hugh’s Chicken Run’, one of the more surprising details was the amount of folk who complained about the price of free-range chicken but admitted to only eating the breasts of the whole chickens they did buy before throwing the rest away. There was amazement and wonder when HFW demonstrated at a BBQ that the rest of the bird could easily be turned into a tasty risotto to make six more meals. While we expect more from others to fulfil our basic needs, we take less responsibility, and have less know-how, to do so ourselves. The greatest irony is that while so many of us demonstrate a squeamishness at using the less obvious parts of the animal, we jump at the chance to demolish burgers, sausages and nuggets that have been mechanically recovered from the carcases of old battery hens and are held together by additives and stabilisers.
In order to bring the nation round to the ills of intensive farming, HFW ran a number of experimental projects. Firstly, because he was barred access to every intensive poultry farm in England he created his own. Juxtaposed to this, HFW also set up a commercial free-range farm. Neither of these processes was easy (and HFW has to be commended for getting them up and running) but the experiment was effective. Within days it was easy to see a spectacular difference in welfare and behaviour between the two sets of birds. Where the ‘frankenchooks’ became overweight and sedated, the free-range gang ran riot demonstrating activity and curiosity. Where the intensive hens developed ammonia burns on their legs from the concentration of their own filth, the free-range birds were healthy and sociable. When Jamie Oliver arrived to lend weight to HFW’s campaign – in a meeting that more resembled the coming together of Ocean’s 11 than it did cooks – he was typically blunt and provocative. While examining an inmate, he summed up the state of affairs to camera: ‘Look at them – freaks of nature covered in each other’s piss and shit – are you telling me you really want to eat this?’ We know its rough for the chickens but regardless what you think of them, you have to start asking how good it is for you.
Running alongside the comparative experiment, HFW started engaging the people of Axminster, his local town, about how they could turn it around. At a public meeting, HFW (with a little help from his friend Jamie) challenged his community to become the first free-range town in England. His challenge reminded me of Rebecca Hosking’s endeavours when she persuaded her hometown of Modbury to become the first plastic-bag free town in the UK. What is most interesting about these transformational ventures is that not only do they deliver an outcome – i.e. purchase of free-range birds or the removal of plastic bags – but that they also bring about many other positive and unlooked for changes. They encourage interaction and build community esteem – they develop social capital.
In the best way possible, HFW started to change peoples’ attitudes by enabling them to change their behaviours and by giving them something that is actually better than what they’re used to. In one case HFW set up a local housing estate with the means to rear their own chickens on their common land. The community took an interest and learnt about the birds for sure, but the project also developed a bond between neighbours that the participants candidly admitted had previously been absent. In another project, HFW went to the canteen of the town’s largest employer and served up a free-range feast for lunch – through the unexpected surprise, the workers were turned on to the taste benefits of rearing healthier farm animals. In effect, HFW confronted unnatural practices not by exhorting people to change their behaviour but by simply re-connecting them with the natural how’s and why’s of rearing livestock. By getting the estate community to rear chickens for themselves, he installed them with a clear and instinctive understanding of the rights and wrongs of growing dinner. By exposing the factory workers to the tangible difference in quality, he gave them good reason to spend the extra cash on free-range produce. Both processes made the participants connected and contented – behaviour change was based on pull not push.
While witnessing the incredible differences between the two sets of birds and the dramatic changes that came over the community, it was hard not to draw a connection between them. The sedated factory birds seemed to represent the more apathetic aspects of modern society – inactivity, obesity, anti-social behaviour and helplessness. In contrast, the free-range chickens seemed akin to the rejuvenated participants of HFW’s projects – switched on, active and enjoying themselves. Admittedly, the free-rangers wouldn’t be dodging their destiny with dinner but until then they were living rather than merely existing. Like the free-rangers, the community members had become alive by engaging in activities natural to them – interacting, learning and participating. Unlike the birds, they were able to reflect on the contrast between the two states and to start planning the changes they’d like to make in their lives and community – surely the process of sustainability in action.
HFW’s approach should be admired. He is a remorseless meat eater but clearly asserts that meat should be reared naturally and produced sustainably. Quality of life and death matter and his cooking style instructs that as little as possible is wasted. In doing so, he represents some wisdom from the past – meat should be treated as a valued feast and not a convenience food. Beyond being a responsible omnivore, a charismatic presence and a damn good cook, HFW also represents something else. He, like Jamie Oliver, is a social entrepreneur – an individual who is taking more than their fair share of responsibility to exploit new opportunities, drive constructive change and create social value. Although their projects may make good TV (and a tidying income), being filmed doesn’t make what they do any easier or of any less value. By using television, these super-chefs have been able to hold up a mirror to everyday practices to reveal both our culpability and potential capability.
The response has been incredible. Simply keeping ones ears open to conversations in the supermarket since the airing of HFW and Jamie Oliver’s shows (Jamie followed-up HFW’s series with a studio show that took audience through every uncomfortable detail of the poultry farming process live on stage) tells you how influential they’ve been. Nandos Chicken has been bombarded by emails and at least two supermarket chains have declared that they will only stock free-range produce by the first half of this year. DEFRA (the Department for the Environment, Farming and Rural Affairs) has recently announced changes to regulation that will outlaw the worst practices in poultry farming within five years. Personally, I don’t think it will take that long, when people have access to good information and the means to act upon it they’re more than capable and willing to make change themselves. Over to you.
Alex
The Grass is Greener and so is Christmas – 9 December 2007
In the workshops I ran before leaving New Zealand earlier this year, I often found myself referring to case studies from the UK to emphasise good practice with regard to engaging people with sustainability issues – from climate change to consumer choice, from recycling programmes to the development of cutting edge organisations. It took me by surprise then, that upon reaching the UK that I was often served up “New Zealand, wow, you guys have got it sorted” when discussing the who’s who of green. Upon reflection, it seems that the old adage of the grass being greener on the other side of the fence (or world) holds firm on pretty much any topic you care to name.
However, the longer I’ve been here in London, I’ve come to the conclusion that the grass is indeed greener on both sides of the fence but that each side also has its own respective manure heaps. New Zealand’s strengths lie in bountiful renewable energy sources, a small cohesive population and a mobile innovation-friendly culture. Its weaknesses lie in a hardwired economic dependence on intensive agriculture (that granted should be offset against what it provides for other countries in the world), a lack of scale to make many niche products and services easily viable and a conservative stubbornness (or is it comfortable distance?) to fully accept that changes must be made throughout society and supply chains without delay.
In contrast, the UK has obvious problems with its energy supply and a population that is about as mobile as an oil tanker. While there is a culture of innovation here, it is constrained in ways that NZ is happily free of, or at least only affected by in a minor way (bureaucracy relating to identify fraud resulted in it taking me over 4 weeks to open a bank account!). In its favour, the UK does have the economies of scale to allow products and services to be trialled and delivered to meet the increasing appetite for green consumerism. Neither does there seem be the pervasive suspicion with regard for the need to change – climate change, poverty and resource depletion all seem to be clear and presently accepted. Unfortunately, scepticism has replaced by both a cheery type of doublethink and simple straight-out apathy – ‘bothered…?’ as they say with a teenage shrug around here… Let me give you some examples.
Many times I have found myself impressed by the organic soups and Fair Trade treats offered by express CBD eateries only to get to the checkout to find my lunch being gift-wrapped with more fuss than truffles at Harrods. Of course much of the packaging claims to be recyclable but finding somewhere to put it in either the street or the office is a different matter entirely – more often that not one spies the eco napkins, bags and wrapping simply clotting up the gutter. Another frustrating contradiction presents itself when Sainsbury’s home-delivery shopping arrives on a Tuesday evening. Home delivery makes sense in many ways – one person delivers to many rather than many people going to the store. Food marketed on the internet needs less lighting to make it look attractive and doesn’t demand the energy of open freezers and air conditioning systems that battle to keep the ambient temperature just right. All well and good but when the shopping arrives and everything down to the last Fair Trade banana is individually wrapped in its own packaging – Sainsbury’s giveth and Sainsbury’s taketh away! It’s worth noting that the Council for Consumer Affairs reckon than half of household rubbish in the UK comes from supermarkets.
However, with Christmas approaching this is not the time to be a grinch (even if the orgy of ascribed consumption is more than slightly gut wrenching). Having been away in NZ for eight years, my previous abdication of responsibility towards nieces, nephews and other assorted friends and relatives needs to be addressed this year to avoid death stares over the turkey and excommunication. Fortunately, living up to family expectations and not wanting to completely send ethical principles down the chimney are in less conflict than I first feared – Santa now has many green options. Helped by weekend paper supplements, clear disclosure on product labels and some quick thinking NGOs and eco-enterprises, I have launched into a spree of gift buying that I hope will leave less footprints that Santa’s flying reindeers. The nieces and nephews (I hope they’re not reading this) are collectively going to adopt a polar bear through WWFand will be individually supplemented with painting kits made from plant extracts, a Meccano solar starter set and Fair Trade rag doll who is both toxin free and made from natural fibres. Mum shall be getting a butterfly box for the garden made from reclaimed timber. Uncles will be dealt to with Fair Trade socks and vests from Marks and Spencer’s and my brother will be served up what he likes best, namely booze and food that will be scored from local stores than offer yummy cottage wares. The stylish and risqué Enamore Boutique have given me plenty of ideas for my wife too (no yak hair or tie-dye here!!!).
The beauty of all this is not only can I order online but that I can also be rewarded for doing so. A new scheme launched last month called CarbonCredallows me order products from over a 1000 high street stores and earn reward points (a la FlyBuys) that can then be used to purchase green products and services. Personal carbon trading may be delayed by many complication and practical difficulties but schemes like this start to pave the way to widespread carbon conscious consumer decision-making through simplicity and encouragement.
Cheeriness aside, I’m not trying to hide the depth of challenges we face or massage the expediency of the decisions we have to make with eco-gimmicks – I’m aware of my own double-think everyday and in most of my own behaviours. A recent Oxfam report revealed that the developed world spend more on suntan lotion than it does on measures to help developing nations adapt to the increasingly apparent and destructive effects of climate change. Spending copious money on Christmas presents that do less harm doesn’t go anywhere to ameliorate the deep systemic imbalances that persist in the world – I’m not a man of the book but walking down Oxford Street at this time of the year conjures up images of Sodom and Gomorrah. But I’m also a pragmatist and the fact is that although the Christmas tradition may have got out-of-hand and out-of-shape, you’re not going to put pay to it any time soon. What does encourage me is that the types of gifts you can access now without straying from high street stores or even your computer simply weren’t commonly available a couple of years ago. Change may not be happening quickly or deeply enough for some (or indeed quickly or deeply enough full stop) but it is happening rapidly. So for now I’m supporting the trend – giving my business to the new breed of micro-enterprises (we will shortly be getting our veggies delivered without packaging from Abel and Cole) and voting with my wallet when I purchase goods from a larger company. At the same time I’ll continue to try and denude myself of double-think by reminding myself with what goodwill to all men really means and what is truly valuable.
Alex.
How Sustainable is the Land of the Future? – 30 November 2007
Being wrenched out of my peaceful existence at the Towers of Sustainability in Wellington, I now find myself searching for my niche, my Wa, or place of harmony, in rural Japan.
Disregarding entirely the fact that I flew here (I hadn’t heard of any charter yachts to Japan, and the organization I came with organised said flight for me) I still cannot say that I have treaded sustainably through the Japanese fields.
While in some ways very progressive with their environmental attitudes, some Japanese customs and behaviour just scream waste, pointlessness, and pollution.
The thing that is driving me crazy is the packaging here. Everything must have its own special wrapping and an item given or received seems incomplete unless choking in plastic. Fruit is sold wrapped in styrofoam, and often on a plastic tray with cling wrap as well. It is almost enough to drive a girl to living off rice, or at least the seldom-wrapped but always delicious watermelon. On a positive note, shopkeepers are a lot more understanding of refusals of plastic bags than those in New Zealand, even if you have a ridiculous pile of groceries to carry in your bicycle basket.
There are tempting vending machines on every second corner, if not more frequently, even in the rural areas. It is exceedingly difficult to walk past so many tins of iced coffee and grape juice when the weather is this hot.
Oh yes, and the heat. While some natural methods such as personal fans and sweat towels are used to combat the humid weather, air conditioning is everywhere, and pretty necessary in the heat of summer. While most offices and shops are cooled almost to Wellington temperatures, I was heartened when reading a student’s summer diary the other day, and he had a picture of him with a fan, as he wrote that he was trying to conserve energy by not using air conditioning. Perhaps the next generation has hope…
On a hot summer’s day, the beaches are littered beyond oblivion, with this problem being dealt with either by people who earn a living picking up after others, or by the rising tide smoothing the problem over, as it were. This makes trips to the beach far less relaxing, as one realises what a dirty dirty place the ocean really is.
But there must be some good news! The recycling system throughout the country is fairly well-organised and widespread. Rumour does have it that nothing actually happens with the recyclable goods; that it is all just `practice` for the day when they will recycle. I sure hope this is a myth perpetuated by those too lazy to recycle. The actual bags to put the different categories of rubbish into generate a fair bit of waste themselves, but the system is probably more comprehensive than that of New Zealand, so I will bite my tongue for now.
My toilet has a tap above the cistern, so when I flush, I can wash my hands without using extra water. This is a fairly common feature, and pleases me immensely.
The cars are getting smaller and boxier, seeming to fit the tiny roads here pretty well. Owners of the smaller Kei cars pay lesser road taxes and receive cheaper insurance, as well as having cars that are fuel efficient and cheaper to purchase. The next question is, when the Japanese need newer models, will these ones be shipped off to New Zealand?
Also, more people ride their bicycles. The elderly of Japan do not let their age prevent them from climbing onto their bicycle or moped. Riding my bike is a pure joy here, with no pesky, albeit potentially lifesaving rules about helmet wearing. The towns are blissfully flat, accommodating to the one-gear bicycles rather conveniently.
As I learn more about this wonderfully weird country, I hope to find more good news to report. Maybe once I navigate my way through the many intricacies of Japanese life I will discover all kinds of wonderful practices to report! For now, the best grades will go straight to the kid who used his fan.
Ladybird Bicycles in Karlskrona – 20th October 2007
Karlskrona is a beautiful little Navy town with an enigmatic atmosphere of untold Baltic voyages. It has been dubbed the ‘Garden city of Sweden’ and is well suited as autumn golden leaves turn to dust. School is going well – my classmates are everything I could have hoped for and more, the challenge, the rigour, the hope! With 64 students from 20 different countries I have found comfort in a sustainable energy bubble.
I have found a flat in the middle of town with two Americans, a Canadian and Brazilian. Although I am sometimes left feeling totally incomprehensible, I know that my international counterparts share in my passion for my conversation content. I’m sharing a room to keep costs down but have landed a bargain with the place we are in, it is beautiful. I funished it today but have yet to find a bed – it is the simple things in life that remind me of its glamour. Low costs for sustainable transport is easy to come by, I found a beautiful green bike with ladybirds on it. One of the old school ones like Caroline’s. I’ve still to find a name for it, any thoughts?
We had our first day of lectures today given by Karl Henrik, the founder of The Natural Step. If only I was as enigmatic and convincing as he is, I would have international corporations such as IKEA eating out of my hand too. He is truly inspirational. Any doubt that sustainability as ‘the key issues this century’ and the only way forward, has been wiped from your mind. A fascinating day looking at the framework and we venture into more depth tomorrow and next week.
Ella
Bicycles, Snakes and Pet Shop Boys - 8 September 2007
School is still a few weeks away from starting but I have met a few of the kids as they are all here playing sports all summer long. It seems like a pretty strict regime. In September, we do athletics pretty much all month, and it seems to have been decided for me that I will be be participating in traditional Japanese dance – I can only attribute this to my grace and elegance.
Have been getting major kicks from biking in and around my little town on my old-fashioned gearless bike (punctured tyre fixed for me by `Papa`, my lovely landlord). It has a basket on the front and I don’t have to wear a helmet… I can even wear a skirt and feel like I am a 1950s girl. The only fear I have is of careering recklessly into a canal or ditch… there are not really any barriers to prevent this. I was biking up into this woodsy part the other day, and saw my first snake here. I can proudly say that I kept my decorum, slowed down my bike, and said a quiet `eek` and it was gone! Cool, calm, collected. The crabs which clatter along the sidewalks are somewhat harder to avoid, and I think that I will at some stage make some crab gumbo with my bike tyre.
Off this weekend to Osaka to see bunch of bands at Summersonic, am excited that for once I may be able to see through the crowds and up to the stage, and even be the one mangling everyone else in the mosh pit (hmm, still unlikely). Ooh, just found out that I get to see Pet Shop Boys… perhaps I shouldn`t let on how much this excites me.
Bye,
Perrine.
Lost in Translation – 3 August 2007
My time in Japan has been pretty amazing despite my arriving late, sweaty, and in not-modest-enough clothing for my first day at work…
Initially I stayed in a five-star hotel in Tokyo, which they didn’t really want us to leave… managed to escape for some of it and found much joy in trying to re-enact scenes from Lost in Translation (for those who care, these include posing with Suntory whiskey, going to the bar where Bill Murray spent his time, and going to karaoke in the same joint as they did…. we even had a pink wig to pass around).
Now, after days of being carted from place to place I am settled in my little apartment, and I write from my little desk at school. The teachers and principal have been great, and thankfully, most speak a little English. I feel so useless for my shocking lack of Japanese.
It is muggy as heck, so I have been eating lots of ice blocks, and enjoying the guilty pleasure of air conditioning. We are in typhoon season at the moment, and today is Day One of our very own typhoon. The baseball players in the field are orangey brown from the dirt blowing everywhere.
The owners of my house live across the lane from me, and have insisted that I call them Mama and Papa. On my first night in my town, they had me over for dinner, even though they can’t really speak English… Papa grows vegetables which I think will be very handy, and has one of those beautiful brown peasanty faces, though they are definitely not poor… I am yet to work out what Mama does. Last night they took me out for sushi and then to see the fireworks and festival in the city. It was so crowded and crazy but nice…
Okay, typhoon winds are blowing stronger, so I had best get home…
Bye,
Perrine.
