This book has been hot in the eco-blogosphere for a while now. I missed the documentary when it came to Olympia, but I thought I should read the book anyway. There was a long wait at the library, so I experienced plenty of build-up and hype. This book brought out some strong feelings and opinions that I didn't realize I was harboring. I spent some time working through my assumptions. I was really irritated - what an arrogant, presumptuous, hyperbolic, self-serving premise for a book! Doesn't the act of publishing a book inherently cause an impact on the planet? The subtitle grates me the wrong way. "The Adventures of a Guilty Liberal Who Attempts to Save the Planet, and the Discoveries He Makes About Himself and Our Way of Life in the Process) ." BARF! But in the end, I felt like the project redeemed itself.
I would not say this was a great break-thru learning experience, but I read those self-sufficiency memoirs fairly often. So there are all the trademarks you expect from one of these publicity stunts-as-books -- earnest, sincere, impossible expectations for themselves, a specific time frame, conflict (like, coffee and electricity), interpersonal conflicts, struggling to talk to people about the project without seeming judge-y, attempt to focus on the benefits instead of the martyrdom, etc, etc. If you read these books you know what I'm talking about.
With that said, here is what's different about this book:
1. This family does not live in the country. They live in NYC. They have no plans to move to the country, or even an apartment building with a yard. They do not get chickens or goats or a rooftop garden. Half the world's population lives in cities, and if everyone went "back to the land," we'd get an eviction notice from Earth. This family is working under the belief that people living in densely-populated areas have the potential to have lower carbon impacts through easier, more effective public transportation, lower physical footprint on the land, ability to pool resources in a myriad of ways, and so on.
2. This family is not well-versed in "green" or "simple" living. They are not hippies; they are Mainstream Manhattanites. They don't ride their bikes, grow food, use alternative energy, eat locally, reduce, reuse, recycle. The only real "alternative feature" of their lives before the project is that the dad is involved in his kid's life and appears to be an equal caregiver for the child. A lot of dads aren't. This family is virtually at square one. The only thing they have that anyone else doesn't is a desire to make no impact on the planet.
3. The author hopes that the media blitz from this project, book, documentary and blog will encourage other people to take steps toward sustainable living, and he says it. He is living by example, certainly, but he also comes right out and says "You need to be doing these things too. What you do matters. What all of us do matters." I have come to expect a sort of neutrality and shoe gazing from these self-sufficiency memoirs, as if the authors' experiences should do the talking, like "look how easy it was for me to raise pigs, butcher chickens, give up electricity, invent the composting toilet and bike everywhere. HMMM!" without a call to action. It's always implied but Colin comes out & says it. I appreciate that transparency. Of course now he's made a career out of it & built a foundation around it, so... but I think that was his intention.
I wish Colin had found a way to talk about community more, and specifically about people working in concert to make lower/no-impact changes in the world, but it was outside the scope of his project. Instead of starting collective, local, community and solution-oriented projects, he volunteered with larger organizations. Don't get me wrong, I love NPOs, but I am not convinced that they have the secrets of our eco-salvation. That whole 'give back' part rang a little hollow, like a tacked-on afterthought. It is impossible to totally eliminate your carbon impact so you should plant trees or something to cancel it out.
One of my favorite paragraphs was the issue of cloth diapers versus disposable diapers. Yes, there was a study (funded by Proctor & Gamble, who make disposable diapers) that said disposable diapers are not "worse" than cloth diapers, and that the water and soap used to wash cloth diapers means they are not really "green." At six diapers a day for (at least) two years, that's 4,380 plastic diapers. Plastic diapers are made from oil that is extracted in one part of the world, shipped somewhere to be refined, then shipped to China where the diapers are manufactured, then shipped to the US, where you drive to the store, drive the diapers home, use them for a few hours and then they are driven to a landfill and buried. Forever. I'm certain that whole carbon footprint did not end up in P&G's study. Compare that to washing 24 cotton diapers every four days, or 183 times in those same two years. It's an incredible, nearly inconceivable leap of stupidity to pretend that this is even a controversial topic up for debate.
The No Impact project had defined stages, all with the intention of ending up at the "no impact" equilibrium -- create no trash, reduce consumption, get carbon-free transportation, eat locally, use no power, reduce water use, be mindful, give back. It didn't happen all at once. The project and the family's experiences came across as earnest and a little naive, but not pompous or ignorant. The spirit of the project was infectious. I think the strength of the book was the fundamental question the author returns to. Don't ask, "Do I know enough to be fully self-sufficient? Can I eliminate my carbon impact entirely? How will I solve all these nuances of problems? Can I get through all the greenwashing, misrepresentation, fear-mongering, profit-margining capitalist interests and actually save the world?" Those are the wrong questions. These are the questions that overwhelm and convince you not to even start. The right question is, "Do I want to be the kind of person who tries?" So they try. They find other ways to live their life. It's hard. It's exciting. People cheer them on. People ask rude questions. They host parties. They seem to rediscover the "romantic side" of marriage, and spend more quality time with their toddler.
I would recommend this book as part of the growing canon of persons interested in walking lightly on the planet. It's not a how-to road map, but there are valuable insights and, if you can get past the irritation of the subtitle and hyberbolic expectations, if you can forgive him the letter-pressed, recycled cardboard eco-book aesthetic, this is an enjoyable read. Colin is either a good enough writer, or the beneficiary of a fine editor or writers group, or maybe both? The human moments of the story - angering your mom, make your sister cry, having a miscarriage - carry the reader through the infrequent preachy religious reflection and dull self-absorbed moments. It's a balance of content and momentum that worked for me.