Making ethical choices is exhausting
but still probably worth it I'm pretty sure, right?
I remember the first time I heard the phrase “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism.” That’s right, I thought, since capitalism by its definition requires some level of exploitation of labor by private entities to further their primary goal of profit, it is inherently a system built around money and not around people or the earth or any living thing, and thus every action is contributing to the accumulation of capital which, in my opinion, is unethical. But my reaction to this statement was sort of glass-half-full: my next thought was, so we do the best we can. Only later did I realize that many people’s next thought is something more along the lines of so it’s okay to give up and not try.
Most folks will rightly argue that big corporations have a responsibility to control their damage to the planet, that shifting the responsibility to individuals helps them avoid taking any action. The “it’s okay to give up” contingent might argue that because most of the damage is being done by huge corporations and their actions as an individual don’t have any impact, they are absolved of making an effort. I feel like this is obvious, but two things can be true at the same time. It’s possible that there is no ethical consumption under capitalism, and yet you still can and should make the best choices possible. It is absolutely the responsibility of big business to come up with biodegradable plastics that can be used at scale while also cleaning up the oceanic garbage patch, and also you have a responsibility to do what you can, even if the impact feels so small as to be negligible.
But while this is true, it is also exhausting. Yesterday I was in a grocery store trying to decide which kind of nut or legume milk to buy, not only needing to remember everything I’ve ever read about these different brands and who they are owned by, whether that company is under any boycotts for supporting genocide or anti-abortion legislation or for sexually harassing employees, but also whether organic is really worth it or if it’s a scam, whether oat milk is largely just gums and additives, how much water it takes to grow an almond or a macadamia, which packaging is least harmful to create and destroy, and then determine which one can I actually afford?1
Some of us try to make these decisions multiple times a day, every time we spend any money at all in this wretched system, and any time we can find a shortcut it feels like a bit of relief. This is why I went vegan in 2009. I simply could not be bothered to learn any distinctions between humanely raised or slaughtered anything vs factory farmed anything, I didn’t have time to make any distinctions between small regenerative farms or industrial agriculture. It’s also why I started buying only vintage clothes. It didn’t start out as just a style thing or even a nostalgia thing, but it was a complete rejection of exploitative fast fashion and cheaply made garments that didn’t fit and were still expensive. In the early 2010s there weren’t a lot of small, ethical clothing manufacturers that I knew of and could afford, so vintage it was.
This shifted in the late 2010s, and small brands like Lauren Winter and Mara Hoffman, whom I first fell for because she did a Claire McCardell-inspired collection (way before Tory Burch!) got on my radar. There was a veritable explosion of independent designers around 2018, all claiming to be ethical and sustainable, and while the former may be true, the latter, in the strictest sense of the word, is proving more difficult. Both Lauren Winter and Mara Hoffman have shut their doors, along with countless other designers and brands I supported, too many to name here. Arq, Ilana Kohn, Root Collective, etc etc. It seems like every month or so I get an email for a Final Sale or Last Chance or Goodbye Sale from a business I tried to support over the years, and it sometimes feels as though all of the folks who cared and could afford to shop have already done so and can’t buy any more things, and there is no one left who has money that can be convinced to care.
This is such a huge topic and there are so many paths to explore from here, none of which I was prepared to hike down when I started this stream of consciousness borne from nut milk. One path of my dilemma around supporting small ethical clothing brands is that if there is a healthy secondhand market, should I buy something of theirs secondhand, support the maker directly, or not buy anything at all? I get so in my head with these decisions (did you notice?) that always trying to do the best thing has made it impossible for me to do anything some days.
The answer, I suppose, is to do your best, when you can, as you can, and not get stuck when you don’t have enough information or make a mistake. There is no perfect way to be in the world right now, but I don’t believe that means you can give up completely. Here are a few of my favorite resources for doing your best:
Gem makes it so much easier to source vintage and secondhand clothing and accessories! Use this every time you are thinking of buying something to wear.
You’ve seen me link to Noihsaf Bazaar before and I’m doing it again. This is where I’m building my own secondhand shop that I’m hoping to launch in the coming week. The following feed is a standout feature for me!
The Good Trade helps break down information about different products, brands and practices to help you make better decisions.
The Commons app also has tons of resources for making more sustainable choices, including directories for businesses and products. They include some brands in their resources I probably wouldn’t (like brands that only offer their products in plastic packaging) but it’s a good place to start.
How are you doing it, friends? How are you making any decisions at all in this capitalist hellscape while still maintaining some level of contentment, balancing personal responsibility with pleasure? Are you?
In the end, I ordered soybeans from a small farm so I could make my own soy milk, an option that costs more time and money. Cool!
Ooof. A big important conversation. This is, in part, what drove me to learn how to sew. I enjoy the process, yes, but it also slows down the consumption and allows me to make ethical fabric choices and ensure as little exploitation as possible in the making of a garment. The only time this saves me money is when I sew for my kids, but that’s fine.
Shopping, though, does feel challenging. How much can I support a business I like before it becomes another way I’m overconsuming? Do I *need* another pair of shoes, or does buying them from an ethical company feel like an excuse to get something I don’t need? After all, I’m supporting a small/local/ethical business.
We can only do our best, as you said. But I’m not always even sure what that looks like sometimes.
This just resonate so much with me. I was lucky enough to have someone to teach me how to sew when i was young, and now i don't depend that much on fast fashion and friends. But what, that makes me faultless ? No, it never did. So much of consumption is based on privilege. A slow consumption is still a privilege, when it was the norm before.