Facts and aesthetics
Most fellow humans in our society know the facts about ecological degradation. And even if they don't know precise numbers, they understand that ecological degradation is unfolding. In my field, degrowth, we often say that the current system does not work, we explain why, what it results in, and what the future will likely be if we continue on the current path. In my forthcoming book, I was going to discuss all this as well, but then I decided against it. There is so much knowledge about it already, so many articles and books, including my co-authored book.
My fellow humans continue to ask me why I am practising extreme minimalism and why I make all my autoethnographic data public, especially considering that individual actions are so small and insignificant. Apart from dreaming about a beautiful feature where humans co-exist harmoniously with non-humans and nature, and with each other, it feels so important to learn more about what exists right now that is alternative to destructive modes of relating with the world. It is important to learn how alternatives exist, what it feels like to be on alternative paths, what constrains and empowers them in different places, spaces, systems, and even seasons.
I am always very curious to read fellow humans' case studies, results from interviews, and ethnographies. When I study businesses, I use case studies too as I don't have a business myself. But when it comes to consuming and being in the world differently, I study my own practices. I've lived differently (furniture-free, with 10 items of clothing, without electric appliances, and so on) for 15 years or so. My practice changed over time (as I became older, moved countries, my income changed, my health changed, as I moved in with my partner, etc.), but the principles remain the same. Studying this mode of being more formally allows me to understand much about the actual unfolding of practices in reality, and emotions and feeling associated with them. One might say that how my practice unfolds is so different to how it unfolds for others, that autoethnographic data is not useful. What I notice is that many fellow practitioners of zero-waste living, minimalism and extreme minimalism, voluntary simplicity and slow living share very similar feelings and emotions (worries, doubts, anxieties) and face very similar empowering and constraining structures.
Studying my practice also allows me to show exactly what it looks like. I think that aesthetics is such an under-researched area within degrowth. I don't simply mean the beautiful material aspects of life, such as wild flowers and trees in cities, fresh and colourful fruits and vegetables, natural materials, glass jars and cotton bags. I mean the community aspect. Recently I was walking around Copenhagen and it was unusually sunny. So many people with children and dogs were outside talking and enjoying the sun. The pace of life seemed so slow and beautiful. I also mean values and worldviews that are beautiful. Kindness, care, empathy, solidarity and so on are beautiful. I am curious to understand how fellow humans practise these values in academia and in other spaces. How they resist competitiveness and instead embrace teamwork. How they challenge hierarchies.
In the picture above:
When I was in the beginning of my journey, I paid much attention to my personal sustainability practice. My consumption, my energy use, my use of transportation. Over time, I realised that sustainability practice is collective. Collective not only in the sense of raising awareness, voting, living in eco-communities, but in the sense that it involves many fellow humans. It can be as small as sharing and borrowing. In the picture above, some of the objects belong to my partner. We share a lot, and it allows us to practise minimalism in our very small (40 sq. m.) apartment.