Sacrifice the Planet on the Altar of Convenience? I Don’t Think So.

Humanity makes me tired sometimes. Or maybe what I’m really tired of is the fact that so many people use convenience as if it’s a valid excuse. Using AI? It’s convenient! Buying plastic and fast fashion? Convenience! Purchasing from Amazon or other massively problematic stores or platforms? You guessed it: Convenience! Using pesticides in lawns and gardens?

Convenience strikes again!!!

But this is what I’m hearing:

I care more about myself than other people or the planet.

I am more invested in immediate gratification than in the long-term health of myself, other people, or the planet.

I don’t really care, but I pay lip service to the idea I do.

It’s not important to me that AI has cost you income while stealing your work. My convenience matters more than your livelihood.

I think about this all the time.

I know that people are complicated, and life is hard. A lot of the time, we’re just trying to do what we can to get through the day, and convenience does matter. I also know that there aren’t as many good sustainable choices for people whose disabilities require accommodations. Those plastic straws may be necessary for some, but surely, they aren’t necessary for all of us!

For those of us who struggle with mental health (and I’ve yet to meet a human being with zero mental health issues), sometimes we rely on ease and convenience to simplify our lives when we’re struggling. I know this well. Some days, I just don’t have the spoons for anything more than the minimum requirements of life.

Exceptions, not the rule.

But these should be exceptions to the way we live, not the rule. The problem I’m seeing is that people have created lives of convenience even when arranging a more sustainable life wouldn’t make much of a difference in terms of time or energy, while making a huge impact on the environment and our society. The issue isn’t that people value convenience; the real issue is that people don’t value the environment, and they don’t care about an economic impact until it comes home to them. When AI steals their work and income, they’ll care. But not until then.

When data centers and the billionaire industrial complex directly impact their health, they’ll care. But until that happens, they aren’t really concerned. They can live with blinders on, promoting the idea that ignorance, even willful ignorance, must really be bliss.

It’s disheartening. I’ve talked to family and friends about AI, pesticides, and conscious consumerism. I’m not trying to be annoying. I’m not trying to convert anyone. What I am trying to do is explain why it matters and why I live the way I do. So they’ll understand. So they’ll see there’s a better way.

And maybe the truth is this: I do hope they’ll change their way of thinking because they care about me. I’m hoping they’ll be invested enough in my well-being to be more responsible and to think about the impact of their actions. I guess I’m just hoping that they are really ignorant and not just willfully so because they don’t care enough.

The altar of convenience.

We’re putting the earth on the altar of convenience. We’re throwing the arts and creatives up there, too. Every “convenient” choice is a sacrifice we’ve decided we’re willing to make to maintain the status quo.

Look, I was Gen X before they sorted my year in with Millennials. I grew up on highly processed foods, fast foods, and fast fashion. My whole world was cheap, plastic, and unhealthy. Especially because we were low-income and had limited choices but also because a lot of people didn’t know any better. We just did what everyone else did.

I don’t know if my parents ever asked questions, but I did. I picked up litter off our street. I took our aluminium cans to be recycled. I wanted the planet to be healthy. I cared. And it always felt like I was alone in that caring. Everyone else was fine just ignoring it until it became a problem. I wanted to make things better and keep those problems from ever coming.

I’ve spent the larger part of my 44 years doing the minimum for the earth. It’s only been over the last decade or so that my thinking has shifted. I gave up pesticides, even in my vegetable garden, where people often prioritize convenience over outcome. I started shopping for organic options. I began reading labels.

Then, I took conscious consumerism to the next level. I wanted to know the values of the companies getting my hard-earned dollars. I wanted to put my money where it aligned with my value system. I said “f*ck you” to the billionaire industrial complex at every single opportunity, and I began looking for more sustainable options.

This would be easy if I were wealthy. I would have so many more options. But well-made things cost more money. Organic produce carries a higher price tag. It’s not an easy way to live, but I am putting my values into practice.

The best time to do better is now.

When I learned better ways, I incorporated them into my life. I started swapping out cleaning tools and products for more sustainable options. I swapped synthetic fabrics for thrifted and real ones. I began thinking more about the way I spend what money I have. It wasn’t too late to change. The best time to do better will always be now.

I see the eye rolls when I talk about it. I can even hear them on the phone. I’m not trying to make people feel bad, but everyone needs to be held accountable for their role in climate change.

They also need to be accountable for how their personal AI use impacts creators like me. Every time someone elects to use it for a writing project, they might as well be stealing the money right out of my pocket. Every time they create “art” artificially, they’re taking money from working artists I know and love. I take it personally because it is very personal to me. I have to admit that it makes me sad when people I care about don’t really care that much about me because they’re too busy justifying their unethical behavior.

I know that I don’t live perfectly. There are so many ways I could still improve. I’m figuring it out as I go. I’m learning.

I know that my garden would have a bigger harvest if I sprayed the pests, but I also know I’d be poisoning the earth, air, and water if I did that. It’s not worth it to me. It might make my gardening a little more challenging to skip pesticides, but I get to feel good about the food I’m growing and the impact on the earth and the wildlife living on it.

I just found out some of my favorite sustainable products sold out to toxic corporations for money. It looks like I’ll be looking for new products to support! I won’t just carry on like I don’t know what I know. Too many people are doing that already.

Faith in a better world.

My family would not describe me as a person of faith. To them, that means Christianity or another world religion. But I do have faith. I don’t necessarily believe in a deity, but I do believe in cause-and-effect and in science.

When I plant a seed and then nurture it, I am practicing faith that it will grow. If it doesn’t, I don’t just abandon all gardening. I try again.

When I live more sustainably, I am practicing faith that a better world is possible if we care enough. If we all reduce our harmful impact, the world just might improve. I believe, even when 9 out of 10 people tell me they don’t care, with words they don’t realize say just that.

When I make choices that align with my deeply-held values, I’m putting my faith in action. It’s not just lip service. I’m not just preaching one thing and living another way entirely. Maybe I am, after all, a person of faith.

When I write something like this, it’s faith, too. I know that most of the people who read it will be the ones already doing their best to live in ways that reduce harm. But maybe someone reads what I write and has a realization that there’s another way, a better way, a kinder way to live.

Reaching one person is enough. It matters. Even one person who refuses to use “convenience” as an excuse makes a difference to a world that desperately needs more people to care.

Please care.