The Privilege Problem: How Green Living Can Be Inaccessible & Exclusionary
by: Lauren Ritchie
Some days, I spiral down the rabbit hole that is “Eco-Friendly Instagram.”
From zero-waste tips and tricks to copious smiling selfies of middle-aged women sharing their favorite Trader Joe’s finds or latest gems from their home gardens, it’s always very clear to me that the sustainability movement caters to a specific demographic of individuals. One could say that the green movement is far too white (and I would definitely second that!) but that wouldn’t fully encompass the extent of the issue.
Whilst the face of trendy sustainability is a white woman wandering through a farmer’s market with a grin plastered across her face and a stylish tote bag draped over her shoulder, this narrow representation of environmentalism goes far beyond just race. Not only does this shallow portrayal neglect the diverse array of contributions towards and challenges faced by communities of color, but it also fails to highlight those of lower socioeconomic status, disabled individuals, or even acknowledge that environmentalism exists outside the confines of wealthy, developed nations like the United States and the United Kingdom.
Living in The Bahamas, I have experienced first hand the exclusionary nature of sustainability. On an island without access to resources like thrift stores, vegan dining options, zero-waste eco-swaps, and even unable to receive mail from online ethical shopping, it’s much more difficult to practice the version of “sustainability” that I see plastered across my Instagram feed. As Plastic-Free July begins, I am dismayed by the fact that, like many other sustainable initiatives that originate in wealthy nations with an array of sustainable alternatives, I won’t be able to participate along with my US and UK-based climate activist counterparts.
The further I delve into the sustainability community, the more I recognize the reek of elitism. It dawns on me how close-minded and judgemental many environmentalists can be. In some ways, it has become a competition to see who can recycle the most, buy the best eco-friendly products, wear the cutest ethical fashion brands, or cook the tastiest vegan recipes.
It’s not about the decidedly unglamorous and non-Instagram-worthy tasks like wearing the same pair of jeans until it awkwardly rips in the crotch area or volunteering to work for hours in the blazing sun cleaning litter off of a beach on the weekends. The focus has shifted from advocating for the protection of the planet and its people to an overzealous movement that measures merit based on superficial initiatives and the desire to curate a manicured and aesthetically pleasing Instagram feed.
But then, what happens to those who are excluded from participating in the contest due to disabilities or disadvantages? When circumstances make the “essential indicators” of living a sustainable life like shopping at Whole Foods and wearing ethical fashion brands inaccessible, does this make one’s contributions towards climate action less valuable or even non-existent?
Considering the gentrification of environmentalism, it isn’t hard to understand why many underprivileged communities see the green movement as a superficial and an eye-roll worthy empty gesture. As the movement constantly slaps them in the face and tells them they aren’t welcome, it makes sense why the poorest and most marginalized layers of society feel disconnected from the cause.
The issue that stems from the exclusionary portrayal of sustainability that paints “good environmentalism” as synonymous with wealth and privilege is that many poor and disadvantaged communities that suffer the most from climate change don’t feel like they have the means to make real contributions. It’s part of the reason why so few people of color choose to enter into the environmental field or why many disabled people feel that sustainability wasn’t made for them.
Environmentalism can’t afford to be exclusionary. The one-size-fits-all prescription for the best climate activism is simply ignorant. Climate change is a real issue that impacts all people, but especially marginalized communities, regardless of how many likes their thrifted outfit mirror selfies get on Instagram. The green movement can’t afford to police the way that people choose to contribute to sustainability with the resources that they possess or to grant permission to participate to a select few who are able to live the ‘perfect’ life.
To the Beckys, Karens (and occasional Susans) of the sustainability world, it’s time to broaden your horizons to be more inclusive and understanding about the diverse representations of sustainable initiatives across the world. Whether it’s choosing to walk instead of drive or monitoring household water usage, there is more to sustainability than the cookie-cutter aesthetic posted across the Explore page. Stop being judgmental of those who cannot afford or do not have access to the same resources that you do.
It’s important to recognize that all forms of sustainability are valid and that BIPOC, LGBT+, disabled, and disadvantaged folx, should not be shamed or excluded from environmentalism on the basis of circumstance. Sustainability shouldn’t be a luxury afforded only to a select few or the able-bodied and the upper class, it should be the choice an individual makes every day to do right by their fellow citizens and their planet whenever they have any choice at all.
Lauren Ritchie is a Bahamian student, and avid animal lover, at Columbia University studying Sustainable Development and Political Science. She wants to increase representation of people of color in the climate conversation, particularly the Caribbean community.
