Green Options

I went to Northern California recently on a business trip.  I got too much done.  Meetings, work sessions, proposals, emails, conference calls, and a few very memorable dinners. Four cities in just as many days. Before returning to San Francisco, I stayed with a friend in a small town up north. One sunny morning I decided to explore the area, so I asked her what there is to do.  Knowing me, she told me there’s a nice walking trail.  I could walk there or drive.  Well that was a no-brainer, of course I’d walk.

But I got thrown totally off track.  What I expected to be a calm, relaxing, reflective stroll beneath California oaks, turned into a passionate, ecstatic, breathless plunge into excesses the likes of which I hadn’t experienced in years.  It took my breath away, melted all self-control, and spun my world halfway round.

Oh, shame on you for thinking naughty thoughts.  It wasn’t the Adonis of the Litoral I encountered on the path (sorry gals… !)  It was an unassuming blackberry sprig.  Peeking out from the dried grasses along the edge of the path.  Winking at me in the sun.  I winked back, then looked around.  Is it legal to pick a blackberry here? I walked past it, choosing planetary well-being over my own base desires.  That’s probably the only blackberry sprig on this trail, and how awful would it be if I picked it rather than leave it for the birds or animals trying to earn an honest local living.

Birgitte Rasine is the chief evolution officer of LUCITÀ, a firm believer in abolishing junk mail.

Help.  My hands are sweaty, my heart’s racing, my vision’s blurred and I can’t breathe. I’ve been shredding since last Monday and my office is nearly filled to the ceiling with little multicolored bits of paper that resemble viruses magnified under a microscope.  I feel myself sinking down through this swamp of cellulose dust, flailing about in vain to find a chair or cabinet to hang on to, grasping for one last breath of clean air… then darkness.

That’s my nightmarish vision of what it would feel like if I took all the direct mail that I ever received and shredded it all in one go.  I’d probably pass out, either from exhaustion or breathing pulverized paper pulp.

Let me be blunt: I hate junk mail. Whoever invented it, I want to dunk them into an Olympic-size pool filled to the brim with mailers, postcards and superficially impersonal letters.  I want to pour all the ink that’s ever been wasted into their bath tub and make them sit in it.  I want them to lick every single postage stamp ever used for direct mail.  I want them to look in the eyes of every one of their victims—once vibrant, dynamic people who are now spending their lives trying to organize, shred, get rid of junk mail they never asked for.  Their names are sold without their knowledge, their identities traded like junk bonds in darkened, dusty corners of cyberspace. Do-not-call and do-not-mail lists are riddled with loopholes. Few of us have the time or the resources to mount legal campaigns to protect the rights that should naturally be ours to begin with.  Do we need martial law to protect ourselves from the insistent march of these malicious mailers?

In real life, I’m somewhat more diplomatic.  In principle, I get why direct mail exists. There are legitimate reasons used by legitimate organizations with legitimate desires to inform their audiences about the work they do, their products and services. The problem is, it’s purely financial.  There’s not a single piece of direct mail that I have ever received that was sent for any other reason than acquiring donations, selling products or services, or other monetary gains.

Birgitte Rasine is the chief evolution officer of LUCITÀ, a non greenwashing pioneer in socially responsible design & communications.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever seen a therapist, or known someone who has. Raise your other hand if you’ve ever heard that little voice inside your head telling you you’re not quite so good, not quite so beautiful, not quite so successful, as person X or company Y.

OK ready? now that we’ve all got our hands up in the air, we can all do the wave. You might laugh, but we really should—to clear away all the smoke and circumstance pumped into our media airwaves by a seductive green mist that’s settling heavier and thicker on web sites, print advertisements, TV commercials, product packaging, press releases, and yes especially blogs (not this one though). We’ve all heard the term: greenwashing.