Magazine - Climate Justice
The Hypocrisy of an Ecological Mindset
by Christopher Jacobs
The world is a constant battle for happiness, where the only relief is death or lobotomization. Your soul laid bare in front of a pre-owned monument; God’s green gift to our morbid birth.
The world is a constant battle for happiness, where the only relief is death or lobotomization. Your soul laid bare in front of a pre-owned monument; God’s green gift to our morbid birth. We wear broken watches with the hopes of attaining something romanticised, detached from our loneliness. The sold dream hurts and it works.
I apologise for my use of plural pronouns to rope you into my current mindset. It’s something I hate to read but find easy to write. Nevertheless, I’ll indulge my need to express needless drivel as I’m apparently a writer. Right now, I feel like a failed romantic with enough sadness to grab someone by the collar and scream, “Why must I jump through so many hoops to not feel so alone!?”
Excuse my desperation. It is, however, with this line of questioning that I direct this sad-boy ennui towards the altruistic optimism of an ecological mindset, or at least an outlook that hopes to make a change in the nepotistic world of despot and indifference. So, without further ado, here’s my self-indulgent dialogue with what may be perceived as an “ecological mindset”:
“We hate violence.”
Emphasising a lifestyle based on consumption and capitalism is the ultimate violence against the poor.
“We care about oppressed minorities.”
The Starbucks line is long and people are calling it oppression.
“Vote with your money.”
Then don’t pay tax. Government subsidies and bailouts negate monetary voting systems.
“Why do you disrespect the environment as so?”
Why is this the fault of the people? What does this have to do with me? It’s not like I spew gallons of toxic chemicals into the water everyday. How is my disrespect even remotely comparable to what the institutions that you blindly support consume and excrete? Just leave me alone and let me drink my Starbucks oat-milk frappe with hints of Macha and orphan tears in peace.
“We hate plastic straws.”
Soggy-cardboard straws, I hate you.
“People are so cruel and mean now.”
It’s within their right to unlearn the social etiquette so when they’re received by death, they can act like slobs.
“I’m a true ecological activist.”
The website you’re reading this on – shut it down! You’ll receive these articles through paper made with dead skin cells and written with faeces.
Nihilism gives way to hypocrisy unlike how communism allows for individuality. What’s worse than any environmental crisis is the loss of human values and self-reflexivity. The whole idea that we, the individual, are accountable for the decimation of our planet, and not corporations or governments, permeates to this day; it has lent credence to the low hanging fruit for which we all pick and pat ourselves on the back for, the pseudo accomplishments we receive when we fight for something “just” due to its simplistic and unquestioned virtue. McDonald, Coca Cola, BP have all created and funded campaigns which rally the common people to do better, when really, these companies decimate the environment more so than one could ever do in an entire lifetime, yet, it’s our responsibility, our “every little helps” that we should be critical about.
Knowledge may be half the battle but it’s the hardest half of the battle – to source true, unbiased and objective knowledge isn’t easy, especially with the amount of bubble-reinforcing listicles that litter the internet landscape like plastic in the ocean. Who knows what is or isn’t sponsored by BP? If cutting down our carbon footprint doesn’t cure human stupidity, maybe a little anarchy will? We could sprinkle some seeds and hope it blossoms a new generation of ecological warriors who are a lot more capable and wiser than we ever could be? The future is limitless, and is therefore another beautiful reason to live for tomorrow. A coerced and happy ending for an extraordinary reader.
This interview offers an insight into the world of a transdisciplinary artist Sarah Strachan, who navigates environmental changes through meaningful engagements with people, landscapes, and materials. Through printmaking, painting, and ceramics, the artist crafts installations that blur the boundaries between art forms, often incorporating sound and moving imagery. Ultimately, her work beckons us to question habitual perspectives, inviting exploration of the liminal spaces found within objects, materials, and the spaces they forge.