Lapses, Relapses and Celebrating Success

There's a phrase I like, a lapse is not a relapse, meaning that a single slip-up is not evidence of habitual, systemic behaviour. One small misdemeanour does not undo months and years of work.

Being environmental, as I've said before, is a continuum, a gradient. There are shades of green. It's simply not a black-and-white thing.

So when we slip-up (and we do, being human), it doesn't stop us being environmentalists. It doesn't change our core principles, our beliefs. Sure, there are those detractors who are all too willing to fall upon our slip-ups, usually as evidence that we can't be truly environmental because we've had a small lapse.

A Lapse of my Own

Last week, I was spotted (outed!) walking out of a supermarket with a carrier bag. Yes, I was caught there unexpectedly; my wife had asked me to get more things. I didn't have my reusable bags with me. And believe me, it hurt no one as much as it did me to take one of the carrier bags that I've avoided for years. But that doesn't take away from the fact that I've been consciously - actively - taking a position on this for years. Refusing bags at every turn. Using boxes. Carrying my own bags made out of canvas or linen.

Whatever the reasons, it was still a lapse.

And I've been vocal about my choices over the years - not criticising others, so much as sharing my own principles - so there are those that are quite happy to pick me up on it when I slip up. Which is fine. So long as I have a reason for my behaviour - and I mean a reason rather than an excuse - then I'm comfortable answering their questions. I have nothing to be defensive about. My principles are intact.

These are my own principles, after all. I live by them because I chose to. When I compromise them, or fail to meet them, I'm answerable to the highest authority in my life - myself. Compared to that, there's not much anyone else can say (but they do).

Dealing with a Lapse

All of us at some time may - despite our best intentions - just fall a little short of our own personal standards. We can't do everything, not all the time at any rate. And we needn't kick ourselves for our little lapses. We can celebrate what we do, not castigate ourselves for what we don't.

That doesn't mean we get to hide our mistakes. We have to admit to them, and figure out why they happened, so we can stop them happening again.

Over on TreeHugger, they put it like this:

...[when] you slip up (or just plain can't be bothered), don't fall into a state of depression or despair. Just analyze what factors contributed to you falling short of your goals or intentions, and then figure out ways to circumvent those circumstances next time.

(from The Lost Eco-Art of Cutting Yourself Some Slack)

My commentator was kind enough to say that seeing me with a supermarket carrier bag is something he hasn't seen in nearly a decade. Which is kind of proof that my efforts are being noticed, are making a difference. But I'm not going to lose sleep over it. On balance, I'm happy with my choices and my positive actions. If I pick up a carrier bag occasionally, if I miss recycling something every now and again, I still believe in the same things.  I'm going to keep doing what I do.

A lapse, after all, is not a relapse.

Environmentalism is green, not black and white (or: the environmental chief executive)

Environmentalism is, to coin a phrase, a broad church. Which, if we remove the religious overtones, is to say that environmentalism is a term that we can all interpret in a way that's personal and meaningful to us individually without compromising its meaning or purpose. In order words, we can live environmentalism in the way that works for us.

Philanthropy is a kind of environmentalism

Just the other day, I was talking to a friend that is chairman of a very successful business, someone I would describe as a philanthropist; he is passionate about businesses working to positively affect the communities they exist in. He gives a lot of his time, money and effort to causes that he considers important, and that affect those they touch in a positive manner. It's been a constant throughout his working life, certainly for all the time I've known him. To my mind, his attitude and approach are representative of a kind of social environmentalism.

During our conversation, I mentioned the reaction I often get when I express any kind of environmental interests; it usually starts with a question something like this: how can you say you're an environmentalist when you [insert some choice here]?.

He said that he experienced a similar thing: he is often invited to speak about corporate-social responsibility and during his talk, quite often someone in the audience will ask him how he can be committed to that cause when he drives a big car.

It's true, he does drive an expensive, luxurious car. A very fine car, if you like that sort of thing, with a large engine. An extravagant - to some unnecessary - car.

Sidenote: I could so easily go off on a tangent here about how and why luxury cars have to have large engines. Why aren't there luxurious executive small cars? Seems like a niche in the market to me.

My friend told me that his response to the challenge is always to say that the world is not black and white; not full of absolutes, but of degrees. A person and their ethics are not absolutely one thing or another; they are a happy combination of shades of grey (or green).  He knows what big cars can mean, and he has actively chosen to express himself in this particular area. Having thought about it at some length, he has understood his reasons, and he is comfortable with them.

If that sounds anything like my definition of pragmatic environmentalism, it won't surprise you to know that I completely understand and respect his choices, and the informed, active decision-making involved.

Environmentalism is not black and white

My friend doesn't bother to attempt to justify his decisions, or become defensive about them - he doesn't need to. He has considered his choices and balanced them against his actions to find the definition of social responsibility, of environmentalism, that works for him. He doesn't waste time defending himself. Instead, he gets on with doing what he is passionate about: the things that drive him, and have driven him for years, that make a difference to people. The passion is enough. The knowledge that his actions and choices make a difference is enough. The number of lives he has affected, the good he does is not - will never be - outweighed by the car he chooses to drive.

Our conversation reminded me of the article I wrote recently about shades of green, about the idea that we don't live in a conveniently black-and-white world. We live in a grander, far more subtle, far richer world of shades. Our choices and actions exist in a continuum. When we consider where we exist on the continuum, and are active about our decision making, conscious about our choices, we become free to do the thing we believe in with passion, without distraction for justification.

To be successful environmentalists, we need to be considered about our environmentalism; we must understand our decisions, why we choose to do the things we do, and the boundaries and limits of our decisions. To do so only makes us more effective, not distracted by constant justification and rationalisation. That way we can spend more of our time and effort making a difference rather than wasting them explaining ourselves and our choices.

An informed set of choices; a set of reasoned, well-considered personal ethics. That's what environmentalism means to me. What does it mean to you?