When I first wrote this article in May of 2007, yet another variant of the "gas-out" chain letter had just made the rounds. Essentially, it claims to call for a one-day boycott of gasoline, to protest high prices. The problem is, it isn't a real boycott. So long as people still use their habitual amount of gasoline on the appointed day, they are still buying the same amount in the long run. Buying it a day earlier or a day later makes no difference. The only message this sends the oil companies, is that we will still buy their product no matter what they charge. The only way to send a different message, would be to forswear gasoline entirely for an extended period.
The "gas-out" chain letter mostly makes its rounds in the United States. Its "easy-believism" approach is very much in tune with American culture. After all, this is a country where, despite all the lip-service paid to such environmental concerns as greenhouse emissions, large numbers of people still commute between city office and suburban home in SUV's. The SUV advertisements always portray them on rugged mountain roads, where their performance might actually be needed; but in the real world, most never leave the pavement. (Isn't it ironically appropriate that Chevrolet decided to name their SUV the Suburban?) They are driven, not from necessity, but for image. Also, some percieve them as being safer; but only in the selfish sense of thinking about their own safety, since drivers of SUVs are more likely to cause the death of others in collisions.
Now, lest we think behavior like this is only the province of conformist suburbanites, think again. Haight Street in San Francisco was the cultural captial of the hippie movement in the 1960s. Predictably, then, it is now a commercialized caricature of hippiedom, with shops selling all manner of hippie paraphernalia. Nowadays, if you have enough money, you can outfit yourself just like an indigent hippie of a bygone age. It is right out of the lyrics to Smashmouth's "Walking on the Sun": "And their kids were hippie-chicks, all hypocrites, because fashion is smashin' the true meaning of it."
Even so, there are still true believers in the Haight. I saw a clothing store at which the mannequins in the front window had word balloons sarcastically poking fun at the Burning Man gathering: one mannequin was saying, "I spent over $2,000 to get here -- now I don't have to spend a cent!" Travelling long distances into the Nevada desert, to barter for things we don't really need: this is the best we can do at eschewing consumerism?
Ideological rhetoric means nothing. The only way to make real changes, is to begin with our own habits. I do not claim to live a much greener life than most, but I at least make a real stand in some few matters. Take beef, for example. In 2007, I was no vegetarian. But I refused to buy beef, for reasons essentially the same as Jeremy Rifkin described in his no-holds-barred book, Beyond Beef. And I liked beef! To eschew it was something of a sacrifice for me in 2007. But this is what it means to boycott -- to accept a degree of sacrifice as a sign that we are serious about our convictions. Where there is no sacrifice at all, there is really no statement at all. This is why the "gas-out" came back year after year, never having made any difference. Thankfully, I haven't seen it lately; hopefully it has died out at last.
No, if Americans want to make any real dent in gasoline prices (or in greenhouse emissions), refraining from buying gas on a certain day is not going to do it. The only way, is the way environmentalists have been saying for years: switch to fuel-efficient cars, or better yet, carpool or use public transit. That's not what easy-believism wants to hear; but it is the truth.
I became a vegetarian in 2008, mostly for environmental reasons. I found, too, that my body responded well to the change, and I feel healthier. Now, the thought of eating meat disgusts me; I see a billboard advertising the latest version of fast food burgers, and my first reaction is to wonder how anyone could keep such a mess down, once they had choked it down in the first place. Occasionally, I do miss fish, but only when someone else has it nearby to remind me. The rest of the time, meat scarcely enters my thoughts.
The anti-vegetarian evangelist allowed a personal pleasure to interfere with an important message. The "gas-out" chain letter, by pandering to people's complacency, distracted them from the real solution. Burning Man, by creating the illusion of a non-consumerist community, covertly contributes to consumerism. Haight Street commercializes a movement that was originally against commercialism.
To their credit, some have tried to put teeth in the "gas-out"-type of approach, flawed though it is. I am, of course, speaking of Buy Nothing Day. The premise is that we can benefit, personally and spiritually, by taking one day off from consumerism -- instead of shopping, do something uplifting to the soul that does not cost money. But -- as I always point out to anyone who mentions Buy Nothing Day -- every time you turn on a light switch, you are buying electricity. Most Buy Nothing boosters probably had not thought of that. Still, I can certainly heartily support the underlying idea -- that acquiring material things does nothing good for our souls, and in the long run, tends to deaden them. In my own life, I fight a constant battle against materialism, and so periodically declare personal Buy Nothing Days (electricity notwithstanding) to try to revive my burdened soul. Every so often, I go through my stuff and give away piles to thrift stores (of course, a lot of it came from thrift stores in the first place), and have bonfires of paper. And when I spend extended periods of time away from home, either working a seasonal job or travelling, I find I do not miss much of the stuff I left behind.
Perhaps a better approach is that taken by the Christmas Resistance. They challenge head-on that most commercial of holidays, not merely by trying to de-commercialize it, but rather, by trying to get people to reject it altogether. Ironically, this approach is likely to meet opposition by some in the supposedly-antimaterialistic church, who no doubt see it as an attack on the memory of Christ's birth. But the truth is, we don't know when Christ was born; the date for Christmas was chosen in an attempt to redeem a now long-forgotten pagan festival, the Saturnalia -- by overlaying Christian symbolism, the church hoped people would forget the original pagan meaning, and the worship of Saturn would die out in favor of Christ. That goal has long since been accomplished, so why do we still need Christmas today? The Christmas Resistance oppose the obligatory gift-giving of Christmastime, saying that gifts ought to be given out of love, when the giver deems appropriate. They oppose the extravagance of Christmas paraphernalia, much of which is discarded and purchased anew every year. In short, they oppose what they rightly call the Holiday Industry. That is certainly a good place to begin.
