Abstract:

For several decades Ted Trainer has been developing and refining an important theory of societal change, which he calls The Simpler Way. His essential premise is that overconsumption in the most developed regions of the world is the root cause of our global predicament, and upon this premise he argues that a necessary part of any transition to a sustainable and just world involves those who are overconsuming accepting far more materially ‘simple’ lifestyles. That is the radical implication of our global predicament which most people, including most environmentalists, seem unwilling to acknowledge or accept, but which Trainer does not shy away from and, indeed, which he follows through to its logical conclusion. The Simpler Way is not about deprivation or sacrifice, however. It is about embracing what is sufficient to live well – and recognising that far less is needed than is commonly thought.

This essay presents an overview of Trainer’s position, drawing mainly on the most complete expression of it in his latest book, The Transition to a Sustainable and Just World, an analysis which is supplemented by some of his more recent essays. My review is designed in part to bring more attention to a theorist whose work has been greatly underappreciated, so the review is more expository than critical. But in places my analysis seeks to raise questions about Trainer’s position, and develop it where possible, in the hope of advancing the debate and deepening our understanding of the important issues under consideration. I begin by outlining the various elements of The Simpler Way and proceed to unpack them in more detail.

The full paper can be downloaded here: Ted Trainer and The Simpler Way.

Freya and James Archer live the high life in a luxury home in Sydney’s poshest suburb, with money, matching Jags, two beautiful teenage kids … and they couldn’t be more despondent. Black Cow is a novel that takes on the notion, popularised by Clive Hamilton and Richard Denniss, of ‘affluenza’: that all-too-prevalent modern condition that combines stress, overwork, super-consumption and debt, with a deep sense of dissatisfaction and hunger.  The story begins with a family in trouble as the global recession deepens. As CEO of a large corporation, James finds himself laying off staff, while Freya’s real estate returns are dropping. In response, Freya and James work longer hours, spend more, and run faster in their effort to follow the myth of the Australian dream (which could easily be the American or European dream).  The Archer’s world is full of noise. The mobile phones rarely stop ringing long enough for the family to talk, or listen, to one another.

Freya and James aren’t the only ones in trouble either.  Their children are suffering from self-inflicted illnesses. As Freya and James slide towards forty, the realisation that something is very wrong in their lives is becoming overwhelming. Finally the family give into their desperation for something real in their lives and leave behind the gleaming Double Bay home and corporate life for self-sufficiency in an old Tasmanian farmhouse. But as the Zen saying goes “wherever you go, there you are”, and the family need to do more than move house and leave their jobs to re-connect with themselves.

Black Cow is a character driven novel that charts the transformation of this family, which could be nearly any modern family, coupling fear of poverty with a wholehearted acceptance of “the happiness lie”. This is a family that has come to accept, through their behaviour, the notion that happiness lies in the pursuit of wealth, physical beauty, and overt consumption.  Why shouldn’t they?  Governments and marketers everywhere are pushing this line as if it were the latest designer drug.  The Archers fit the dream perfectly in every way: they’re right on top of the corporate ladder, they dress well and look sharp, with kids in the most exclusive schools. Their whole lives revolve around earning and spending, and the worse the economy gets, the harder they work and the more they spend.  It’s possible to think of The Archers as a microcosm of society. When faced with economic difficulties the family goes into stimulus spending mode.  But less and less is actually being created.  The Archers aren’t happy, and no amount of spending is going to buy them the self-fulfillment they so desperately crave. Their lives are almost entirely devoid of creativity. They’re cut off from self-reflection, from real communication, from smell, taste, touch — they’re too busy running to feel anything other than fear, guilt, and desperation.

This is the underlying theme of Black Cow.  The book asks, within the context of its fictive truth, how we can, in the face of this increasing pressure to earn and spend, stop the madness, jump off the treadmill, and begin to live again — slowly, fully, creatively.  How do we create meaning in our lives, in spite of the ongoing onslaught of commercial messages that tell us to move faster, think less, and accept that we’re going to die early?  The Archers find a way out of the madness, but it’s no easy panacea. They have to first heal themselves, and go through an almost comical transformation to learn to live sustainably again, in the context of the shared wisdom of community. There are so many skills they’ve lost. Above all, they need to re-connect to their own pasts.  As the name suggests, Freya’s name is Norwegian, and her rejected, semi-mythical past is part of what fuels her creative transformation.  James too has a past to unearth as he uncovers his own tamped down hurt.

In writing Black Cow, it was never my intention to preach about sustainability or the pains of over-consumption. The story isn’t specifically meant to be didactic or even edifying. As a fiction writer, however, I’ve sought to explore these notions through the tools of fiction: the character arc, plot, conflict, structure, narrative. The good life is certainly an evocative notion for me, even if total self-sufficiency isn’t necessarily practical in the world we currently live in. The notions I explore in the novel are ones that I’m certainly attracted to personally, along with the themes of creative and personal transformation, subjects that I suspect will always form the backbones of any fiction I write and much of my poetry.

Magdalena Ball is the author of Black Cow. Grab a free mini e-book brochure here:  http://www.bewritebooks.com/mb/BlackCow/BlackCow.html

For more about Magdalena visit: http://www.magdalenaball.com

www.simplicityinstitute.org

Here’s the blurb for David’s talk:

In recent years, as we have become more aware of the negative effects of our high-impact lifestyles, a number of environmental responses have been introduced – such as increased insulation and energy-efficiency requirements for buildings, improvements to public transport, conservation of urban green space, and more water-sensitive urban design. At a personal level, a few individuals are also adapting by, taking in boarders, sharing backyards, or returning to the multi-generational family unit. 

We have barely scratched the surface, however, of the profound improvements that the application of permaculture principles and strategies could deliver for the sustainability and livability of today’s suburbs.

David Holmgren, the co-founder of Permaculture, will explore how suburbs can, and are, responding to the converging economic, energy and climate crises. He will show how household and community resilience can be stimulated in the face of these pressures.

For those who want an introduction of the subject matter, here is a short but thought-provoking interview with David which has been posted on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTYe8WloF1U

The following sections outline several ‘techniques of the self’ that may provide a useful starting point for actually practicing voluntary simplicity. Voluntary simplicity, as readers of this website know very well, refers to an oppositional living strategy with which people seek an increased quality of life through a reduction and restraint of one’s level of consumption. This way of life generally involves providing for material needs as simply and self-sufficiently as possible, minimizing expenditure on consumer goods and services, and directing progressively more time and energy toward non-materialistic sources of satisfaction and meaning. In the context of overconsuming societies, adopting lifestyles of voluntary simplicity arguably provides a remarkably coherent philosophy of life with which to respond to the three problems stated above – ecological degradation, poverty amidst plenty, and consumer malaise.

Nevertheless, consumer societies are the very ones that relentlessly encourage ever-higher levels of consumption, and most of us probably internalize that message to some degree. If it is the case, however, that the escalation and expansion of consumer lifestyles is driving several of the world’s most pressing problems, then it may be that ethical activity today requires that we engage the self by the self for the purpose of refusing who are – so far as we have been socially conditioned to be uncritical consumers – and such a ‘refusal’ would be the first step toward creating new, post-consumerist forms of subjectivity. This attempt to live simply in a consumer culture should not be conceived of as something that has a destination, however; instead, it should be conceived of as an ongoing creative process. From this perspective, resistance to consumerism begins within the self, not beyond it.

The following ten techniques have been developed to outline ways of overcoming aspects of our identities, behaviors, and perspectives that may have been shaped, deliberately or by accident, by contemporary consumer societies. The aim of these techniques is to transcend, through self-cultivation, the subjectivities that have been imposed upon us by consumer societies and to create something new. It is important to note, however, that voluntary simplicity does not have anything to say about what form that ‘new self’ will ultimately take; rather, the purpose is to help break the consumerist mould of the ‘existing self’ so that new, post-consumerist forms of subjectivity can emerge.

1. Read about Consumerism and Voluntary Simplicity

The importance of reading about consumerism, to begin with, lies in the fact that many of the mechanisms of consumer society are not obvious and, for that reason, can escape our notice. But if those mechanisms are not recognized or understood, they obviously cannot be resisted. Consequently, we can find ourselves shaped by those mechanisms in insidious ways. For example, the complex concept ‘hedonic adaptation’[1] holds that once human beings have their basic material needs satisfied, further increases in material wealth can have short-term influences on happiness (the so-called ‘consumer buzz,’ of which we may be all aware), but little or no long-term influence on happiness (a phenomenon which may be much less obvious). That is, once human beings attain a modest material standard of living, evidence suggests that we end up ‘adapting’ to further increases in material wealth, which means that people typically find themselves no better off than when they were less wealthy. If this is so, and there is considerable evidential support for this phenomenon,[2] then this should affect the way we shape our lives, especially with respect to our pursuit of consumption. We might decide, for example, that if the pursuit of increased material wealth is unlikely to provide long-term satisfaction then that pursuit should not be the focus of our lives. But if we do not know about the process of ‘hedonic adaptation,’ then we cannot plan our lives with the aim of avoiding consumption that is wasteful from the perspective of happiness.

A second example of the subtle workings of consumerism – from the many to choose from – is known as the ‘Diderot Effect’ (named after the philosopher Denniss Diderot who was the first to write about the phenomenon).[3] The ‘Diderot Effect’ refers to how one consumer purchase can induce the desire for other purchases, which can induce further desires, and so on. The purchase of some new shoes looks out of place without a new outfit to match; a new car looks out of place parked in front of a shabby old house; painting the lounge can make the kitchen look even older; and replacing the sofas tempts one to replace the chairs too. This striving for uniformity in our standards of consumption is known as ‘the Diderot Effect,’ and it can function to lock us onto a consumerist treadmill that has no end and attains no lasting satisfaction. But if we are aware of this phenomenon, we can take steps to resist it, by foregoing the initial upgrading and thereby stepping off the consumerist treadmill. We can then do something else with our lives – something more ambitious, perhaps, than making sure our carpet matches our walls.

The point of these two examples is to show how consumerism can often lock us into practices of consumption that are wasteful of our time and energy (to say nothing of the waste of resources they entail). By dedicating some of our attention to the study of consumerism, however, we may deepen our insight into the world, and our lives, and this may well assist us in escaping consumerism and in the planning and creation of new, post-consumerist forms of life. By deepening our understanding of consumption and its effects, that is, we may find ourselves better able to live lives of what David Shi called, ‘enlightened material restraint.’[4]

As well as reading about consumerism, it is suggested that there is also great value in reading widely about voluntary simplicity. For those of us who have been educated into a consumerist form of life, within a consumerist society, it can be very difficult indeed to imagine that alternative forms of life exist.[5] In fact, so entrenched can we become in the consumerist form of life that we can resemble the fish that does not know it is in water. That is, we may not even recognize consumerism as consumerism – as one form of life among others – but assume instead that it is ‘just the way the world is.’ By reading about alternatives like voluntary simplicity, however, we can unsettle this assumption and expand our imaginations, and hopefully come to see that we have a choice in the way we live. We can change our lives, and perhaps begin changing the world, by changing our minds. Not only that, reading about voluntary simplicity can be self-fulfilling in that it can affirm and support the transition to a post-consumerist life. This is but an inflection of the old adage that what we give our attention to, we become. The choice, it would seem, is ours.

2. Keep Precise Financial Accounts and Reflect on Them

Although practicing voluntary simplicity is much more than just being frugal with money and spending less – it is also a state of mind – spending wisely does play an important role. In Your Money or Your Life[6] – a prominent text in the literature on voluntary simplicity – Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin provide elaborate financial exercises for readers to undertake which seek to provoke reflection on the real value of money and the true cost of things. Such exercises may sound mundane and a bit pointless – everybody assumes they are careful, rational spenders – but if the exercises are carried out with precision the results may well surprise, even shock. One might find that seemingly little purchases add up to an inordinate amount over a whole year, or over ten years, which may raise new and important questions about whether the money might have been better spent elsewhere, not at all, or exchanged for more time by working less. The aim of such exercises is not to create tightwads, but smart consumers who are conscious of the full cost of their purchases, all things considered. After all, as Henry Thoreau insisted, ‘the cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it.’[7] When exploring voluntary simplicity in this light, one might well find that some reductions and changes to spending habits, rather than inducing any sense of deprivation, will instead be life affirming. Furthermore, it is often said that how we spend our money is how we vote on what exists in the world. Clearly, then, our relationship to money is an area that deserves close attention, for if we do not have a precise understanding of how we are spending our money, we can find ourselves misspending our money and thus our lives. Through the ‘technique’ of keeping precise accounts of our income and expenditure, however, we can bring this issue to the forefront of our attention and allow us to better negotiate a fulfilling and meaningful life in a market society.

3. Cultivate Non-Materialistic Sources of Satisfaction and Meaning

Voluntary simplicity, it could be said, is about progressively directing increasing amounts of one’s attention away from the materialistic side of life toward the non-materialistic side. But cultivating a deep appreciation of non-materialistic goods often requires a certain degree of training. This training can be conceived of as an investment, of sorts, in the sense that effort expended in the early stages of development are justified on the basis that they will have positive, long-term impacts on one’s life (and perhaps positive, short-term impacts also). Learning to play a musical instrument, for example – say, the cello – may require some investment in this sense before one can appreciate the joy of performance or the profound beauty that can emanate from a cello in the hands of a competent cellist. But once that degree of competency has been attained, the non-materialistic satisfaction that can flow from playing a musical instrument is essentially limitless, and perhaps, one might even say, infinite. Another example might be reading. The more one reads, the better one gets at reading (in the sense of reading more deeply). But once a certain degree of competency has been attained, books have the potential to provide us with an inexhaustible source of non-materialistic wealth, all the better for the fact that a book itself – which is, of course, a material object – can be shared or ‘consumed’ without limiting its non-materialistic re-consumption by oneself or another, again and again. The point of this technique, once more, is to deliberately cultivate satisfaction and meaning in life through non-materialistic pursuits, rather than materialistic ones.[8]

4. Work on Overcoming Status Anxiety

It is sometimes said that modern consumers spend their lives working jobs they do not like, to buy things they do not need, so that they can impress people they do not like. Whether this is an exaggeration or not is less important than the issue it raises about what motivates our consumption – in particular, the issue of whether or to what extent we consume for the purpose of seeking or maintaining social status.[9] There is in fact considerable evidence to suggest that status seeking and social positioning is highly relevant to consumption practices, especially in consumer societies.[10] But there are at least two problems with this approach to consumption: firstly, social positioning through consumption is a zero-sum game, in the sense that when one person’s social status is increased, someone else’s must have relatively decreased, meaning that overall social satisfaction is unlikely to change; secondly, a strong argument can be made that, ultimately, it is much more important that we have the respect of ourselves rather than the respect of others, especially since the former is within our control, and the latter is much less so. Accordingly, if we choose to care about what others think of us – and it is a choice, although it may sometimes be a difficult choice – we are giving up some of our freedom to define our lives on our own terms. It can be argued, therefore, that practicing voluntary simplicity implies cultivating an indifference to social status, which would involve constantly thinking about what is truly valuable in life and recognizing, perhaps, that it is more important to shape one’s life for the purposes of gaining self-respect than for the purpose of seeking the respect of others. After all, if one merely seeks the respect of others, one might come to the end of life and have succeeded in attaining that respect, but have little respect for oneself. A case can be made that such a life would not be a successful life.

5. Regularly Undertake the ‘Deathbed Experiment’

The ‘Deathbed Experiment,’ so-called, is a technique of the self (popular among the Stoics) that can assist in the evaluation of what is most important in life, including how important money, possessions, and status are to a well-lived life. The thought experiment can be expressed in the following terms: Imagine you are on your deathbed and someone asks you about which attitudes defined your life. What would you want to be able to say? The Stoics argued that this type of thought experiment is important for at least two reasons: first, because the technique of trying to look back on life from the vantage point of our life’s end can help us prioritize our time and attention today as effectively as possible; and second, it can help us accept without complaint those things we cannot change and prompt us to set about changing those things we can.

Taken seriously – and it ought to be taken seriously or not at all – the Deathbed Experiment can provoke us to reflect on life’s ‘big picture’ and what role our attitudes have in shaping it. In particular, the experiment potentially has great relevance to the idea of voluntary simplicity because it has implications on how we value money, possessions, and status. That is, it raises the question of what attitudes we will have toward these things on our deathbed. The purpose of considering this issue prior to lying on one’s deathbed is so that our conclusions shape our thoughts and actions today in the hope of avoiding regrets in the future.

One might suppose, for example, that a person on their actual deathbed rarely says, ‘I wish I had spent more of my life working to pay for more consumer goods.’ More likely, perhaps, at least in consumer societies, is that a person might come to the end of their life and have some regrets about dedicating too much of their time and energy toward materialistic pursuits, at the expense of various non-materialistic goods, such as time with friends and family, or time to engage in creative activity or community engagement. In short, the Deathbed Experiment is a tool or technique that can be used (repeatedly) to avoid the regrets of overconsumption. To paraphrase Henry Thoreau, we should aim to live what is life, so that we do not, when we come to die, discover that we had not really lived.[11]

6. Acknowledge Freedom by Imagining Hypothetical Lives

Freedom, as the existentialists often insisted, can be terrifying. Freedom can be so terrifying, in fact, that we can sometimes pretend that we are bound by circumstances to live the life we are currently living when, in fact, we are really just avoiding having to deal with the reality of our own freedom. Jean-Paul Sartre called this living in ‘bad faith.’[12] For those brave enough to face their own freedom, however, the technique of imagining hypothetical lives can be a useful means, not only of highlighting one’s freedom, but also of actually expanding it. This technique involves imagining various alternative futures for your life, futures that depend merely on an act of will to initiate. Imagine, for example, radically changing careers, or deciding to dedicate your life to this or that burning passion – imagine it seriously. Imagine also, perhaps, living a radically simpler life. What would life be like? What could life be like? How could we get there?

It may be, of course, that the life one is currently living is the best life, the freest life, the most fulfilling life – in which case the alternative lives imagined need not be pursued. But by imagining alternative lives, we can become more aware of the nature and extent of our own freedom. Perhaps, as Michel Foucault suggested, we may discover that we are freer than we think we are.

7. Practice Negative Visualisation

Negative visualization refers to imagining bad things happening in your life for the purpose of preparing yourself emotionally when, as inevitably happens, something bad does actually happen. Of course, negative visualization may also help us avoid those bad things happening in the first place, which provides further justification for this technique. But human life is such that bad things sometimes occur that are entirely out of our control. If we are mentally prepared for such occurrences, they will never be as bad as when they strike us out of the blue.

With respect to voluntary simplicity, it can be helpful to imagine losing our entire life savings, or losing our home in a fire, or coming home one day and discovering we have been robbed of our most prized possession. By imagining such events and considering the various ways we could respond to them, we are more likely to respond effectively should they ever occur. We would be more likely, for example, to say to ourselves, ‘how best can I live my life from now on, given these circumstances?’

Negative visualization is a central ‘technique’ of Stoicism.[13] The Stoics argued that it is not events that hurt us; rather, we are hurt by the interpretations we give to those events. This is important because, while we are not always in control of the events in our life, we are in control of the interpretations we give those events. For example, continuing the above hypothetical, suppose we arrive home one day and discover we have been robbed of our most prized possession. This event can be ‘dealt with,’ from an interpretive perspective, in various ways. One response is to become angry, sad, or spiteful, but they are not pleasant or desirable emotions, so responding with anger, sadness, or spite generally makes a bad situation worse. Another way to respond, however, would be to show gratitude that our prized possession enriched our life for as long as it did; another response again would be recognize that there are many people around the world who have almost nothing, and this can make it seem rather perverse to bemoan the loss of our prized, but superfluous, possession. The point is that the same ‘event’ can impact on one’s life in various ways depending the ‘attitude’ with which we choose to deal with it. Again, the event is out of our control, but the attitude is not. To draw once more upon Nietzsche – a Stoic in his own way – we should live in the spirit of amor fati and ‘love thy fate.’[14]

8. Anticipate and Avoid Consumer Temptations and Seductions

Everybody in consumer societies has probably had the experience of walking though a mall, or watching a television advertisement, only to discover that such experiences can give birth to new, artificially imposed, consumer desires. We may not have even known that some product existed, but after being exposed to it through sophisticated marketing techniques, we find ourselves wanting it – needing it. Not only that, just knowing about the new product can make the things we currently own seem a bit old and dated, even though, prior to discovering the new product, our current possessions were a source of satisfaction. Those same possessions can become a source of dissatisfaction.

Within consumer societies people can be exposed to as many as 3,000 adverts each day,[15] and the message implicit to every ad is that our lives are not good enough as they are, and that our lives can be improved if only we buy this or that product. It seems we are easily persuaded. But we need not be passive pawns in this game. If we come to accept that marketing and advertisements can seduce us ever-deeper into consumerist practices, then one ‘technique’ for escaping those practices is simply to anticipate and avoid as many consumer temptations and seductions as possible. For example: do not go to the mall; do not read unsolicited junk mail or glossy magazines filled with ads; watch as little television as possible, etc. By regulating as far as possible what our minds are exposed to, we can change the nature of our socially constructed minds and thus our lives. If we give too much of our attention to consumer products, however, we, ourselves, might become the product.

9. Keep a Journal

As noted above, one of the greatest legacies of Stoicism is the idea that, while we may not always be in control of the events that happen in our lives, we are ultimately in control of the ways in which we respond to those events. But although we may be in ultimate control our responses, sometimes we do not always respond how we would have liked, and sometimes our responses can become habitual rather than considered or deliberate, at which time our freedom, our power, to respond as we wish seemingly diminishes. Keeping a journal is a good way of having a conversation with oneself about the happenings of the day. By reflecting on one’s actions and taking a few moments to reflect upon one’s responses to events, one becomes better able to negotiate life in the future and respond in the most fruitful ways. If one does not reflect in this way, the same mistakes can occur over and over again, and self-development essentially comes to a halt. Having a regular conversation with oneself through the keeping of journal is likely to help us in all areas of life, but in consumer societies, it may be a particularly useful practice with respect to consumption. By critically reflecting on a regular basis upon our consumer purchases, consumer motivations, consumer insecurities, consumer expectations, consumer desires, etc. we are likely to become more conscious of the forces external to ourselves that conspire to turn us into mindless dupes who dutifully turn the cogs of the consumerist machine.

10. Ask Yourself, ‘How Much is Enough?’

This question is perhaps the central question of voluntary simplicity, and it is suggested that any attempt to practice voluntary simplicity must involve meditating upon it with exceptional dedication. As it happens, however, ‘How much is enough?,’ is an extremely unpopular question within consumer societies, as it is widely assumed that ‘more is always better.’[16] But it is a question that is arguably of revolutionary import, for it has the potential to provide the fertile soil for growing a post-consumerist form of life.

This question, however, leads to an unexpected twist in the exploration of voluntary simplicity. We discover that it is impossible to answer the question ‘How much is enough?’ until will have first answered a prior and perhaps even more important question, ‘Enough for what?’ This ‘prior’ question challenges us to specify the point of our consumption, for if we cannot identify its purpose we cannot know if our economic efforts have succeeded. Without some ‘chief end’ in mind to guide and justify our labor, we would merely be running in the ruts or acting for no conscious purpose, like the Brahmin who chained himself for life to the foot of the tree, but could not explain why he did it. The warning here, in effect, is that if we do not have a clear sense of what we are doing with our lives, or why we are heading in one direction rather than another, we will not be able to tell if our attitudes toward material things are keeping us on the right path or leading us astray.

Voluntary simplicity, however, can offer no guidance on the question, ‘Enough for what?’ – which is to say, we must each create as an aesthetic project the meaning of our own lives. The ethics of consumption explored herein merely insists that we must face this question when shaping our attitudes toward money and material things. Once we have developed some answer to that question, however, then we are in a much better position to answer the question, ‘How much is enough?’[17] Many participants in the Voluntary Simplicity Movement are discovering that much less is needed than was previously thought, and perhaps, one might hope, others will come to realize that they, too, are freer than they think they are.[18] By needing less, people may come to realize that they would not need to work so much to provide for themselves, and it is hoped that the ten ‘techniques of the self’ presented above, if practiced seriously, might assist in that realization. Liberated from the limitless pursuit of more consumption and the endless labor that it demands, post-consumers are then free to set about doing something else with their lives.

Trying to understand what that ‘something else’ should be may well be the most exhilarating struggle we ever find ourselves engaged in.

The materialistic orgy that is Christmas, of course, is but an exaggerated normality for Western societies. In everyday life we often do not notice ‘materialism’ because, like fish that do not know they are in water, it is all around us – it is the very stuff of the world. But at Christmas time, the water of materialism begins to boil and everyone notices. Let’s face it, it can get pretty ugly.

I don’t want to be the Christmas Grinch again this year – see here for my Grinch article, “Christmas: The Assumption of Consumption.” But I do wish to counter some of the uber-consumerist messages that we all receive this time of year. I wouldn’t suggest we don’t give gifts to our friends and family. My message today is simply that we be thoughtful at this time of year and think carefully about our acts of consumption. In short, let us try to give gifts that improve the world, rather than degrade it.

Below I’ve listed a few of the best books I’ve read this year – books that I feel ought to be read very widely. One way to improve the world through consumption is to help promote important ideas. Christmas provides us with this opportunity. For those interested, a quick search online will provide places to purchase these deep but accessible books.

Richard Heinberg, The End of Growth: Adapting to our New Economic Reality (2011)

Chris Goodall, How to Live a Low-Carbon Life (2^nd Ed., 2010)

Ted Trainer, The Transition to a Sustainable and Just World (2010), which I reviewed here.

Paul Gilding, The Great Disruption: How the Climate Crisis will Transform the Global Economy (2011)

David Holgrem, Future Scenarios: How Communities can adapt to Peak Oil and Climate Change (2009).   

Rob Hopkins, The Transition Companion: Making Your Community More Resilient in Uncertain Times (2011)

Thomas Homer-Dixon, The Upside of Down: Catastrophe, Creativity, and the Renewal of Civilization (2006)

And, finally, since my not-for-profit book sold out last time I did a post on it, I thought I’d repost the link if anyone still wanted a copy: Samuel Alexander (ed), Voluntary Simplicity: The Poetic Alternative to Consumer Culture (2009).

The temperature today in Melbourne, Australia, reached a toasty 29 degrees (celsius) and that signifies the beginning of the season of solar hot water – but solar hot water the simpler way. Yes, ’tis the season for the outside shower!

In these temperatures, there is no need to use electricity or gas to heat your hot water for a shower; nor is there any need to purchase expensive and sophisticated solar hot water systems. All you need is black, watertight bag and a place to hang it, and there you have it – an outside shower that provides hot water. It’s really as simple as that.

And as  Leonardo da Vinci once wrote: ‘Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.’

Not only does this simple method of solar heating save money on energy bills, it also significantly reduces the amount of water used in washing, both of  which are financially and environmentally beneficial. Best of all, perhaps, is the experience.

This is one of the many luxuries of the simple life.

The text is available here: http://www.fishpond.com.au/Books/Voluntary-Simplicity-Samuel-Alexander/9780986453700

It is 7.15pm as I write these words, and I now have a badly sprained neck, having been forcibly removed from our peaceful protest in City Square by the riot police some time after midday. I’ll try to fill in the gaps, but I’m sore so it’ll have to be brief.

Whatever you think of the Global Occupy Movement – whatever you think of Occupy Melbourne, in particular – what happened today in City Square was disgraceful and unforgivable. I’m frustrated that those words just don’t express what I wish they could express, but I have no other words.

As I have discussed in recent posts, Melbourne’s City Square has been occupied for the last six days in peaceful protest. We have taken meticulous care of this public space, and each other, and we have been engaging ourselves and the public about various issues, ranging from corporate influence in politics, economic inequality, and the degradation of the environment. Does that sound so terrible? Like so many others, we are worried about where the world is heading and what this means for ourselves and our children. So we decided to do something. We decided to ask questions and raise difficult issues, in the most peaceful and authentic way possible. We would hand out flyers during the day; talk amongst ourselves and with others about social and ecological problems and potential solutions; at 6pm we would hold a General Assembly; and in the evening we would make our own dinner, make our own music, and continue our critical discussions.

Apparently this is unacceptable behaviour. Apparently peaceful protest is intolerable. Apparently the Mayor of Melbourne didn’t want to see a few tents in the City Square when the Queen was driven down Swanston Street in few days. For God’s sake! So this morning, hundreds of aggressive police officers arrived, fully armed with pepper spray and mace, backed up by the cavalry and the riot police, and forcibly removed us from this public space. It is important that you understand what happened, so please watch this short video: http://goo.gl/gY2Wq

Is this an appropriate use of police force? Of all the problems in the world, was it necessary to violently evict several hundred engaged people who were simply trying to question the status quo? Is this what democracy looks like? We must not take that word “democracy” for granted, or it’s meaning will be debased further.

As I sat in the gutter after being evicted from the square, nursing my sore neck, I heard numerous people walk by sniggering at what was taking place, mocking us for what they simply could not understand or chose not to understand. At one stage, not being able to contain my rage, I stood up and quietly asked these people: “What have you ever stood for? What do you, in fact, stand for?”

They were silent and quietly moved on.

So it goes.

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For my 4,000 word statement on Occupy Melbourne, see: http://simplicitycollective.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/IgniteRevised1.pdf

For some thoughtful news coverage:

http://www.theage.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/inchoate-yes-but-thoughtful-20111023-1meek.html

http://www.theage.com.au/opinion/politics/why-do-the-occupiers-so-preoccupy-our-masters-20111023-1meem.html