Local Economy and Climate Change
Today I went to T.S. Design’s remarkable Green Gala. They invited me to speak on local economy, and I sort of did that.
I no longer write or read my speeches. There was a day when what I published on Energy Blog was almost verbatim what I said. Now I simply roll without notes.
T.S. Designs packed the place. It was standing room only. And this is a rough approximation of what I said:
“I probably should begin by attempting to define my relationship to T.S. Designs. I work for Piedmont Biofuels, and I think the best description of our relationship is that of fierce competitors for the sustainability limelight.
Sometimes we go first. We pioneer something, or we make something happen, and we grab some headlines, and T.S. Designs calls and asks if we can help them do that too. At which point we pat them on the head, treat them like a little brother, yawn, and give them a hand.
And sometimes they go first. On those occasions we study the subject, figure out how to replicate their efforts, or do it better, and bring it into the world without giving them any credit whatsoever.
And often they just win. When they do, we ask for guidance in order to copy their endeavors, and whenever that happens they are always forthcoming and generous, but they like to add a smidgen of “Wow, the mighty Piedmont needs our help, sure we will help, usually we are following you.”
Whenever I am a “sustainability supplicant” to T.S Designs, I can see the sarcasm drip from Eric Henry’s text messages.
But I am not supposed to be talking about T.S. Designs. I am supposed to be talking about local economy. And for that I have a favorite T.S. Designs story to tell.
Once a local Pittsboro merchant came out with a “Buy Local” t-shirt. On the front was a pro-Pittsboro message, and on the back was a list of local businesses from which people could procure products and services. I believe Piedmont Biofuels was on the list. I don’t think we paid to be there, but we were on the shirt just the same. This t-shirt was not my project.
I first encountered it at Chatham Marketplace, where the shirt’s creator approached me with pride to show me the new “Buy Local” t-shirt in town. I don’t actually wear t-shirts, but I read his with interest.
And I looked at the label. Made in Honduras.
I handed the shirt back to him and suggested that there is a sustainable t-shirt maker just across the county line in Burlington called T.S. Designs.
And he immediately balked. “Too expensive, ” was his claim.
I shrugged. I didn’t buy his “Buy Local” t-shirt from Honduras, and he eventually vanished from our local economy.
My next tale of cluelessness came from “Wake Up Wednesday,” which is a remarkable monthly local business event that occurs in Pittsboro.
Wake Up Wednesday was created in part by Lesley Landis, and it was inspired in part by Becky Anderson, the creator of Handmade in America.
I love Lesley. I love Becky. I love “Wake up Wednesday.”
But the last time I was there I paid my entry fee with a PLENTY. That’s our local currency. I said, “I’m assuming you take PLENTYs?”
And the woman at the door, who apparently runs our downtown merchant association replied, “I will take it, but I will have to cash it in right away.”
By that she meant she would need to convert it into federal reserve notes at our local branch of Capital Bank.
To which I replied, “Why don’t you spend it locally on something you need?”
To which she replied, “I need a banner, that I am going to get at “Banners.com.””
To which I replied, “Why don’t you get it from our new sign shop, they make banners, and they would probably appreciate the business.”
To which she replied, “I’m sure they are more expensive.”
Like the fellow who created the “Buy Local t-shirt” made in Honduras, it was yet another “buy local” organizer who failed to even grasp the concept she was promoting.
Think about it. Wake Up Wednesday buys a banner from the new banner maker, new banner maker contributes to Wake Up Wednesday. It’s kinda simple.
I buy from you. You buy from me. We trade amongst ourselves. We keep the dollars inside our community. And voila. The whole community is enriched.
Local economy is easy. Buy your food from your local farmer. Buy your honey from the beekeeper down the street. Buy your t-shirts from your local t-shirt maker, and your banners from your local sign shop, and your books from your local bookstore and on and on and on. And by all means, don’t forget to buy your fuel from your local fuel maker.
Buying local is easy. It reduces energy consumption. And that impacts climate change.
I wasn’t invited here today to talk about global climate change, but since it is a local economy issue I feel it is warranted.
I’m 47. I have a daughter who is 23. Let’s pretend that by some cosmic fluke I make it 47 more years. That means I could see a great granddaughter on my lap.
Imagine if you will, a great granddaughter climbing into my lap in 2056.
On our current path our water reservoirs will be empty, and if they have water it will not be fit to drink. Our aquifer will be depleted and our wells will be dry. By the time my great granddaughter comes along we will be parched.
On our current trajectory our air will not be suitable for breathing. We will wear respirators and we will stay indoors, filtering our air. Today it is unusual to see a pedestrian wearing a particulate filter, or a SARS mask in an airport. If we do nothing to stop climate change, both will be standard equipment for all of us.
Climate change is the moral imperative of my generation. It is our World War Two. You might say we haven’t started fighting yet, but it is time to start. And increasing our participation in our local economy is one way to reduce our carbon footprint. They can be connected.
When my great grand daughter asks me about the war against climate change, what am I supposed to say? We were going to fight it but it was too expensive? Or am I supposed to say we did nothing?
That’s not actually what I am going to say. What I will tell her is that we tried things that failed, and we tried again to discover things that worked. I want to tell her that I fought in the war with everything I had. All my passion, my time, and my money went into the war effort, and battles were won.
I want to tell her about how we won the war against climate change. I want to tell her about how my father served in World War Two. That was his generation’s fight.
My generation’s fight is with climate change, and I am ready to serve”
My speech went something like that. I failed to give credit to Chris Turner, the author The Geography of Hope which has inspired me to get back on my war footing. And when we progressed into questions and answers, we got around to the subtitle of Jared Diamond’s Collapse which reads “How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed.”
I suggested to the audience that we start the war now, and that we choose to succeed…
Original post by Lyle