Wealthy Environmentalists
Credit: Andy Singer/Cartoonstock
If you’ve read the title of this blog post, you’re probably anticipating a long rant about the appalling hypocrisy of mega-rich environmentalists who fly around in private jets explaining to people that don’t have private jets about the gravity of climate change. That would be quite a reasonable thing to talk about (and I will likely come back to it in a future post), but this blog is about something a bit closer to home. An admission, if you will.
It is important that I come clean. To fess up. It wouldn’t be right for me to criticise all those delegates booking charter flights to COP each year if I didn’t admit the truth about my own financial situation. You see, if I’m perfectly honest… Well, the fact of the matter is…. Oh, I’m just going to have to come right out and say it.
I am enormously wealthy.
You wouldn't know it if you met me. I live in the furthest reaches of the outer suburbs, in the poorest part of one of the least expensive Australian cities. My home is a small, one-bedroom unit with no yard and so little furniture that I often wonder if I shouldn't just get a mountain of cushions from the local op shop, light some incense, and rent the space out to a meditation teacher. I could certainly use the money. I don't earn anything more than the average Australian, and as living in this country is not exactly cheap, I am unable to quit my (rather tedious) full-time job.*
Most Australians would agree that one would need to earn, at the very least, one hundred thousand a year to call themselves well off—and I certainly don't. Nor have I have ever inherited or won anything. In fact, I very rarely have more than a few hundred dollars in my bank account and, on the day before pay day, there is usually nothing at all. If I need to pop to the grocery store for emergency toilet paper, I have to put it on my emergency credit card.
I’m aware that I sound like I live precariously close to poverty and disaster, so to claim that I am actually incredibly wealthy can only mean one of two things. Either I made an enormous amount of money in a not-so-legal way and now have wads of plastic-wrapped hundred dollar bills under my floorboards that need to lay dormant for several more years, or I am about to start preaching some hippy nonsense about how one can only discover true wealth by going outside, lying under a tree, and appreciating the wonder of nature.
Neither of those versions are correct.
Firstly, considering I’m in favour of short prison sentences for anyone that puts soft plastics into recycling bins or who doesn’t use an indicator when changing lanes, it is highly unlikely I’m engaged in a major crime syndicate.
Secondly, I don’t recommend people lie under trees. Taking the time to reflect on how wonderful they are will only make you depressed about the fact that we are killing them all. Also, there are a lot of large spiders milling around trees, particularly if you live in Australia, and nothing will make you feel less enamoured by the richness of nature as having a huntsman crawl into your t-shirt while you are relaxing on a soft bed of foliage.**
No, I am most definitely talking about money. You just, as it turns out, don't need that much of it to feel incredibly wealthy. Which is a good thing, as I’ve never had a lot, nor do I plan to ever have much more.
What makes me feel incredibly wealthy, more so than most millionaires I presume, is that I no longer want anything. That feeling I used to have of wishing I had more money, new stuff, and the lifestyles of people richer than me is completely gone. There is no craving, no sense of missing out, and no anxiety about buying things I can’t afford. That’s not to say that I never purchase anything. I’ve just lost the urge to buy things I don’t need or replace the perfectly adequate things I own with marginally better versions, and this means I no longer spend very much. Without earning any more money, my fortnightly salary has become more than enough. In fact, I have started to feel quite rich.
Ah, well now (you are thinking), The Quiet Environmentalist clearly doesn’t pay what I pay in rent.
Probably not. When my mindset toward stuff changed, I also lost the desire to live in a big house in the nicest suburb. My rent became cheaper as I was happy to live with fewer luxuries, more people, and in poorer places. Instead of spending a lot of money on nice rentals and consumer goods I didn’t need, I saved it. And when I’d saved enough, I bought the smallest, least expensive unit I could find.
I’d lost the desire to buy more than I needed, and this included a big, impressive, well-placed house. Like most humans, my time at home is mostly spent lying in bed or sitting in a chair punctuated by regular visits to the pantry and bathroom, so I didn’t need more than the space to do those few things. I was certainly not going to spend twenty extra years paying off a far-too-big house, so that I could get my daily steps in by walking between the fridge and the couch. It’s much cheaper (and better for the waistline) to buy something smaller and utilise the local footpaths.
Now that I have a little home and the few things I need, I just put any extra money from each paycheck onto my mortgage. It’s a small, fifteen-year loan that’s on track to be paid off in ten. I’ll save about twenty-seven thousand in interest and five years of fortnightly payments. Right now I feel rich because I don’t need anything, but when my mortgage is paid off in a few years, I will also be free. I will be able to live very comfortably on even less money, which means I can choose to work fewer hours, transfer to a job that pays less but is more rewarding, or take long periods of leave to do things far more enjoyable than impromptu Friday afternoon all-staff Zoom meetings. I will be able to whatever I like, really. The choices are endless when you are rich and free.
So, if true wealth comes from the cessation of wanting, how does one get on the path to prosperity?
It may seem that developing an “I already have enough” mindset requires either an extended stay in a Buddhist monastery or a good deal of money and stuff to begin with. However, at the time the mindset shift began to happen, I was working at a poorly paid not-for-profit, living in one of the most expensive Australian cities, and could fit everything I owned into a small hatchback. I can therefore attest that anyone, anywhere, can do it.
If someone wants to become insanely rich (without accruing any more money than they currently have) the first and most important step is cultivating humility. Some people will find this more difficult than others, but it is a habit, and anybody can develop it. It will certainly be an easier task for poorer people, so if you are in that category, you are already ahead.
Whatever our religious or personal philosophy, we can generally agree that we are going to exist at this specific time, in this specific place, in this specific body, knowing these specific people, just once. If we’re lucky we might have a little over eighty years to enjoy it. This window probably seems disappointingly short for most people, but if your social circle is quite trying, it’s going to feel like an eternity. Either way, and whatever one’s circumstances, if you’ve read all the way to this point, it means you are privileged enough to have been born into a body with a fairly well functioning brain and are at least moderately motivated to put it to use.
Now, if you’ve only been given eighty years to experience this particular life—and the jury is still out about whether you will go somewhere better, get a round two, or end up composting a field—the un-humble response is that you’ve got to make the most of it. This is code for taking as much as possible and not worrying too much about the big mess you leave behind when you’re gone. In fact, the more land, energy and natural resources required to service your life and that of your offspring, the more likely it is that your headstone will read, At least it was a life well lived.
[The preceding comment about it being a shame you didn’t get to finish the ribs you were eating when your heart gave out was not, in the end, included on the headstone. Your offspring received the engraving quote and decided to post the full version to your Facebook feed instead.]
The humble response, on the other hand, is to genuinely reflect on the wonderful gift you’ve been given of eighty years of consciousness on this absolutely amazing planet. It is then important to follow that sense of deferential gratitude with the acknowledgement that almost every non-human life form would have benefitted enormously if you and the other Homo sapiens hadn’t shown up. Nothing is more humbling, in fact, than realising that being born human automatically makes you a bit of a jerk. (Most species would prefer to describe humans as short sighted, selfish, narcissistic, genocidal, tyrannical megalomaniacs, but they also don’t want to upset their callous overlords, so ‘a bit of a jerk’ is fine.)
I’m not really a nature lover. There is no way I’d be able to name a single tree species in my neighbourhood, and my idea of hell is heading into the bush and spending the weekend in a tent. Yet, I also like living in a world with polar bears, orangutans, bees, and rainforests. I don’t need to go visit them, I’m just happy not to participate in their destruction.
I decided to take responsibility for my own contribution to climate change and try very hard not to contribute too much more. (Well, less than my neighbours anyway.)
Truth be told, I anticipated a long stretch of extreme FOMO. Fortunately, that is not what happened. As soon as I got into the habit of considering the environmental cost of my purchases, the things I wanted for myself started to seem less important. Things like international holidays, packaged foods, and the acquisition of wealth and consumer goods began to feel less like meaningful pursuits and more like selfish pleasures and giant mounds of waste.
I also lost the desire to earn a lot of money. What do I need more for except to buy more stuff?
I even recently turned down a promotion. A bigger salary would have come with more stress, more meetings, more HR, and less happiness. Why endure that if I don’t need the money? It’s much easier to earn less. My current salary covers my bills, my mortgage and my basic needs. If I have to buy something new, I have to save for it. And that’s a good thing. Possessions feel a lot more valuable when I need to save up for them, and when something spends a long time on my ‘To Buy’ list, it is much more likely to get deleted than purchased. (Most things tend to lose their appeal over time, whether purchased or not, and it’s much easier to delete a hideous recliner from a Microsoft To Do list than your living room.)
I imagined that saying no to things I wanted would feel like a depressing sacrifice, but the opposite has happened. Once I started focusing on living a low impact life, my stress, anxiety and guilt went down, and my wellbeing, productivity and happiness went up. I was no longer competing with others, feeling anxious about what I didn’t have, or suffering the financial and mental burden of having too much. A weight is lifted when one needs little and wants nothing. It makes space in the brain for simpler, more rewarding joys such as parks, library books, exchanging pleasantries with strangers, learning new things, the regular birds that frequent one’s patio, and the arrival of mango season.
If you want to be rich, you don’t need to invest in the stock market, or get a high-paid job selling stuff that ruins the planet to people that don’t need it. You just need to cultivate genuine humility and the rest will happen automatically. Spending time in nature would certainly help that along, but there’s no need to buy a tent. Taking a daily walk through a quiet park should do it. Or binge watching every David Attenborough documentary. At the very least, you should download the Microsoft Bing wallpaper to your desktop.
You are also welcome to go lie under a tree if you think it will help, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The Quiet EnvironmentalistFURTHER READING
Scientists’ warning on affluence - PMC (nih.gov)
Overconsumption and growth economy key drivers of environmental crises (phys.org)
Degrowth can work — here’s how science can help (nature.com)
The dark side of the Nordic model | Environment | Al Jazeera
World Scientists’ Warning of a Climate Emergency | BioScience | Oxford Academic (oup.com)
* To be fair, I wouldn’t quit work even if I could. Going into an office several times a week is very advantageous for an introvert, as it means we can tick off socialising at the same time. When one stops working alongside other humans, one is at increased risk of catching the loneliness epidemic, which means one must find alternative, nay, intentional modes of socialising. As someone that generally dislikes spending time with others, I am doubtful about my risk of contracting loneliness, but I would still rather stay at work to be on the safe side. It is much less awkward excusing oneself from a tiring conversation in an office than at a coffee catch up or dinner party. Until it becomes socially acceptable to have ten minutes of silent reading time in the middle of all face-to-face get-togethers, introverts should try to confine all major social events to morning tea breaks in office kitchens.
** If you do think spending more time appreciating trees would make you feel richer, I would recommend reading Richard Power's The Overstory, or Peter Wohlleben's The Hidden Life of Trees, which can both be found in my Climate Friendly Living resources section and at many good libraries. These two books will make you appreciate the wonder of trees while also arming you with random tree knowledge that will make you appear learned on first dates. You might even like to carry The Overstory with you on first dates, as it is quite a thick book. If you stick the bookmark in somewhere close to the end, you are bound to impress. It will also give you something to do if your date is regrettably dull. Most importantly, reading either of these books will help you to appreciate the majesty of trees without ever having to go near one (especially if you are reading the e-book versions). You can rest assured that your good opinion of trees will never be tarnished because you had the unfortunate experience of being accosted by a spider while lying under one.
Published 06 April 2025
