I was a corporate greenwasher. Sorry for making you think metal straws would fix climate change
The climate crisis is a disaster centuries in the making. Globalisation, deregulated capitalism, unfettered resource expansion and a pathological obsession with endless growth are just a few of the complex factors that have collided to create the warming world we live in. But reading my writing over the years, you’d be forgiven for believing a different version of events.
During my career as a freelance writer, I’ve worked with dozens of businesses to present the climate crisis as less a tragedy of government and corporate mismanagement, and more a matter of lifestyle. They would hire me to create content that acknowledged this was an issue we should all engage with, but also one that could be solved by amassing a collection of metal straws, reusable cups and hemp t-shirts.
I’ve worked with dozens of businesses to present the climate crisis as less a tragedy of government and corporate mismanagement, and more a matter of lifestyle.Credit: Simon Letch
The truth is, I was a greenwasher. The brands and corporations that commissioned this work crossed between finance, fashion, tourism, hospitality, beauty and auto industries. While the services varied, the briefs were similar: They sought to draw attention to small parts of their practice that were marginally environmentally sound in the hopes of distracting from larger dealings that were broadly environmentally abhorrent.
A tree-planting initiative from a bank that financed the fossil fuel industry, perhaps. Or a recycled-product launch from a beauty line that tests on animals. Travel guides promoting luxury eco resorts that failed to mention the carbon impact of flying or household swaps that suggested refillable cleaning products, but didn’t bring up energy providers. And many, many features that assured readers that buying “sustainable” fashion liberated them from the question of why they needed so much stuff in the first place.
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My sins weren’t committed to purposely mislead. I wrote these articles because unlike true and detailed climate reporting, they paid well and were widely read.
My work was also successful because I understood the appeal of this content. Beneath all the easy fixes was a promise that we can have it all. It was nice to think this problem is solvable; that we can make a difference without it requiring too much work.
This wasn’t the creative life I pictured when I set out to become a writer. But it was a line of work I excelled at. Deep down, I don’t know if I am a talented journalist, but I do know I’m a great greenwasher. I can skim an Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report, Greta Thunberg op-ed, fashion editorial and Pinterest roundup to spit out 600 words that can convince anyone that buying natural deodorant is an act of resistance.
The great sin of my work wasn’t just that it ignored the major issues of our time, but that it directed good intentions away from addressing them. In 2019, The Guardian reported that “20 fossil fuel companies whose relentless exploitation of the world’s oil, gas and coal reserves can be directly linked to more than one-third of all greenhouse gas emissions in the modern era.” Rather than asking readers to interrogate corrosive power structures in the stories I wrote, they were urged to turn inwards. The subtle insinuation was that it was always somehow our personal fault, as if the climate crisis wasn’t accelerated by the acts of a handful of companies.
