Dogs have been symbiotic with people for 15,000 to 30,000 years. That's a long time. I can't bring to mind a culture without them (even the Hawaiians had the poi dog, for both meat and good luck). We may have traded off some of our animal traits, such as a keen sense of smell, for the responsibility of keeping an animal that deployed those traits on our behalf. This often happens in symbiotic relationships.
So why do people forget about dogs when they talk about building a sustainable future?
One reason is that dog food's got a lot of meat in it and agribusiness meat has a high carbon footprint. Perhaps, people think, it's impossible to keep such a pet and still live sustainably.
Or, perhaps they don't think much at all about dogs. I think this is because when people grieve, which is what we are doing when we talk about the state of the planet and our expectations for its future, we tend to feel isolated. Dogs are so dang social, if you started thinking about your dog, you'd have to stop thinking about how awful things are.
I'm not advocating keeping dogs simply in order to keep your mind off of more difficult matters. But I am asking that we keep them in our consciousness. Don't forget them. Any future that's dogless is going to be sadly diminished. Any future that's dogfull should take into account how to make it more sustainable.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Sustainable Health
My houseguest keeps asking us questions about sustainability, since we're so obviously trying for it. There are several different categories to the attempt, I've come to see.
First is the easy stuff, the stuff you just throw money and time at and then you're pretty much done. We have a solar water heater for summer and a set of pipes wrapped around our wood stove chimney for winter, and boom, we can forget about how the hot water appears, most of the time. It just comes out of the faucet. The solar panels and battery bank are a bit like that, though they need more maintenance. We couldn't possibly have enough panels to approach what life in town is like, as becomes clear as we explain to houseguests about not doing laundry after sunset, and that turning off unused lights is not optional. But during the day, we can use a computer, run the washing machine, and even use power tools.
Second is the stuff that's become second nature, but that takes a bit of effort. Line drying laundry, for example, washing dishes by hand, bicycling to work, and vegetable gardening. These, I think, are the things that tend to impress houseguests the most, because they tend to participate. Our current guest, for example, is really excited about cooking meals in the solar oven.
Third, however, is what I want to talk about. These are the choices that have long-term effects. Choosing to be healthy (as far as luck allows) is a choice for sustainability. I'm always struck by the accidents that visitors to the island have, as though they are not sure where their hands and feet live, as though they don't have the habit of paying attention to their surroundings. We eat fairly well for various reasons, but one consequence is that we are rarely ill. We get a lot of exercise, not the kind you get in a gym, but the kind you get by splitting wood, biking to work, digging out stumps, and walking to the beach with the dog.
Arranging life so that your body is a part of it is crucial to sustainability. Of course, everyone's got a body, but it's possible to live as though your head's the only important part. Not good. We're animals, let's face it and embrace it. What's good for animals? Diverse, rich habitats, plenty of clean water and additive-free food, clean air, minimum of external stressors. Pay attention to that and you're probably doing well by the planet.
Being in poor health has non-sustainable consequences. I'm taking hydrochlorothyazide which passes into breast milk. I can't find information about whether my pee has trace amounts of it, but probably it does. Its shelf life is about a year. This isn't something I want in my outhouse. I owe it to my water table to lower my blood pressure more naturally.
It's not just medications that pollute, but the use of money. I'm not a Luddite or a Communist, but I do think that money is a kind of concentrated energy pill. A ten dollar bill in my pocket came from half an hour worth of thrashing and churning around that I did, using up oxygen, messing with paint or a computer or school supplies. When I spend it, I'm transferring that leveraged work someplace. I'm not prepared to call money unsustainable, but certainly it's powerful enough so that using it sets off my "check for sustainability" alarm.
First is the easy stuff, the stuff you just throw money and time at and then you're pretty much done. We have a solar water heater for summer and a set of pipes wrapped around our wood stove chimney for winter, and boom, we can forget about how the hot water appears, most of the time. It just comes out of the faucet. The solar panels and battery bank are a bit like that, though they need more maintenance. We couldn't possibly have enough panels to approach what life in town is like, as becomes clear as we explain to houseguests about not doing laundry after sunset, and that turning off unused lights is not optional. But during the day, we can use a computer, run the washing machine, and even use power tools.
Second is the stuff that's become second nature, but that takes a bit of effort. Line drying laundry, for example, washing dishes by hand, bicycling to work, and vegetable gardening. These, I think, are the things that tend to impress houseguests the most, because they tend to participate. Our current guest, for example, is really excited about cooking meals in the solar oven.
Third, however, is what I want to talk about. These are the choices that have long-term effects. Choosing to be healthy (as far as luck allows) is a choice for sustainability. I'm always struck by the accidents that visitors to the island have, as though they are not sure where their hands and feet live, as though they don't have the habit of paying attention to their surroundings. We eat fairly well for various reasons, but one consequence is that we are rarely ill. We get a lot of exercise, not the kind you get in a gym, but the kind you get by splitting wood, biking to work, digging out stumps, and walking to the beach with the dog.
Arranging life so that your body is a part of it is crucial to sustainability. Of course, everyone's got a body, but it's possible to live as though your head's the only important part. Not good. We're animals, let's face it and embrace it. What's good for animals? Diverse, rich habitats, plenty of clean water and additive-free food, clean air, minimum of external stressors. Pay attention to that and you're probably doing well by the planet.
Being in poor health has non-sustainable consequences. I'm taking hydrochlorothyazide which passes into breast milk. I can't find information about whether my pee has trace amounts of it, but probably it does. Its shelf life is about a year. This isn't something I want in my outhouse. I owe it to my water table to lower my blood pressure more naturally.
It's not just medications that pollute, but the use of money. I'm not a Luddite or a Communist, but I do think that money is a kind of concentrated energy pill. A ten dollar bill in my pocket came from half an hour worth of thrashing and churning around that I did, using up oxygen, messing with paint or a computer or school supplies. When I spend it, I'm transferring that leveraged work someplace. I'm not prepared to call money unsustainable, but certainly it's powerful enough so that using it sets off my "check for sustainability" alarm.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)