Freedom begins by reducing dependence

August 31, 2026 — Leave a comment

Money is not the foundation of civilization.

It’s the receipt.

We spend our lives chasing numbers on a screen. GDP, stock markets, billionaires, inflation, currencies. We act as if money is the bedrock everything else stands on.

It’s not.

Food is.

Without food, there are no people. No workers, no soldiers, no consumers, no billionaires. Hunger has always been humanity’s first enemy, and every civilization was built around solving that one problem.

But there’s a truth hiding underneath it.

You can’t secure food without energy.

For tens of thousands of years, that energy came from human muscle, animals, rivers and wind. Then we found coal, oil and gas, and suddenly one machine could replace hundreds of people. Fossil fuels didn’t invent energy. They concentrated it. They turned power into something that could be owned, extracted and sold.

That’s when the game changed.

Whoever controls energy controls transport. Whoever controls transport controls food. Whoever controls food controls hunger. And whoever controls hunger controls nations. First it’s a national interest. Then a security interest. Then a reason to send an army.

That’s the real ledger. Everything else is cover. Democracy, freedom, human rights, security. Different century, same script, and the resource underneath it rarely changes. Energy-rich regions have a long history of becoming “unstable” right when a great power needs what’s under their ground. That’s not coincidence. That’s the pattern of intent.

The cruelest part is that even those of us who reject that history still run on its infrastructure. I oppose exploitation, yet I fill my tank and charge my phone. I criticize empire, yet I use electricity flowing through grids built on centuries of extraction. I condemn colonialism while still benefiting from resources mined thousands of kilometers away. None of us stand outside the machine, no matter how loudly we object to it.

Since I can’t opt out of the system, the next best thing is shrinking how much of my life it gets to run. That’s the actual reason I became a minimalist, not the aesthetic.

People think minimalism is white walls and linen shirts and empty apartments.

It’s not. It’s about dependence.

Every unnecessary possession draws on that same energy chain. Every gadget needs electricity. Every trend needs a factory, a cargo ship and something pulled out of the ground to make it. The more you need, the more someone else gets to set the terms of your life.

Freedom isn’t earning enough to consume without limit. Freedom is needing so little that scarcity loses its grip on you.

Markets are built to sell people infinite desires, because a person who always wants more is a person who can always be sold something. Minimalism breaks that loop. It won’t dismantle any empire by itself, but it quietly stops feeding it.

Own less. Need less. Depend less.

Because in a world where power runs on energy, the simplest resistance is deciding how much of it you hand over.

Teekay

Why Overtourism Is a Capitalist Crisis

August 25, 2026 — Leave a comment

The tourist didn’t design the system that made travel a substitute for a life worth living.

A new form of environmental propaganda has quietly become mainstream.

Every week, another headline appears telling ordinary people they are responsible for climate change, then hands down the same list of penances. Drive less. Fly less. Stop buying this. Stop enjoying that. Recently, Le Monde highlighted that tourism accounts for around 9% of global CO2 emissions.

The number itself bothers me. It’s huge, and mass tourism is something I have no patience for.

The framing bothered me even more.

Once again, the spotlight was placed on ordinary people instead of the system that shapes almost every decision they make.

It’s becoming increasingly common to hear the same message.

You’re responsible.

You’re the polluter.

You’re destroying the planet.

Study. Work. Pay your bills. Repeat. But if you finally manage to save enough money for a vacation, you’re suddenly made to feel guilty for that too.

That is not environmentalism.

That is misdirection.

Anyone who reads my essays knows I take my environmental footprint seriously. The choices behind that, the minimalism, going vegan, the way I get around, weren’t picked up to look good or fit in. They came out of years of reflection.

I’ve been a minimalist for nearly a decade because endless consumption makes neither people nor the planet happier.

I’m vegan because I care about animals. I also recognize the immense environmental cost of industrial animal agriculture, from habitat destruction to food waste and greenhouse gas emissions.

I buy second hand exclusively and repair things before replacing them. I don’t buy new clothes. I’d rather walk or take public transportation than drive, and I’d rather borrow or share something than own it outright, because half the stuff we buy individually just sits there waiting to be used once a year. I’ve taken a nine hour bus instead of a forty five minute flight to the same destination, more than once, because the extra hours felt like a small price for the difference in footprint. I believe we should leave this world better than we found it.

None of that makes me exceptional. It just means I got lucky, or stubborn, enough to question habits most people never get the chance to question, because those habits get taught before we’re old enough to notice them.

Unlike wild animals, humans cannot realistically leave no trace at all. We build, consume, and transform our surroundings. But we can choose to leave as little trace as possible.

That responsibility matters.

What I reject is the idea that environmental collapse is primarily the consequence of millions of individuals making bad personal choices, as if those choices appeared out of nowhere.

They didn’t.

We’re born into a world that treats consumption as the default. Questioning it comes later, if at all, because most people spend their lives just trying to survive rent, survive the cost of food and shelter. Then, once that survival eases up even a little, we try to make up for lost time. We overconsume to compensate for what we never had, the same way anyone leaving poverty tends to, emulating the people who always had the means. “Treat yourself. You earned it. You worked hard for it.”

Individualism finishes the job from there. Look after your own happiness first, leave everyone else’s problems to someone else. That isn’t a flaw people are born with. It’s a job someone trained us for.

So yes, individuals are responsible for what they do. But the system is responsible for how most individuals were shaped to behave in the first place, and pretending otherwise lets the actual architects of the mess off the hook.

The system was built so individuals would fit inside it, and it worked well enough that the individual is now a piece of the machine that keeps breaking us. That’s what makes escape so hard. It isn’t one bad law or one greedy company standing in the way. It’s advertising, employers, housing, food systems, culture, and habit all pulling the same direction at once, thousands of small parts that don’t need to coordinate because they all reward the same behavior. No amount of individual willpower gets the masses out of a system built from that many interlocking pieces. You can opt out personally. The system barely notices.

Now, does tourism have environmental impacts?

Absolutely.

Mass tourism damages ecosystems. It strains local infrastructure. It raises housing prices. It pollutes coastlines. It turns historic neighborhoods into amusement parks. Entire cities are transformed into products designed for visitors instead of homes for residents.

These are real problems.

But they’re not caused by tourists wanting to see the world. They’re caused by an industry that’s turned that desire into something to sell as much of as possible, to as many people as possible, regardless of what the planet or the destination can absorb.

That distinction matters.

And here’s the part that should actually worry us. Right now, only a small share of the world’s population can afford to travel the way tourism gets discussed in Le Monde or anywhere else. If everyone on earth consumed the way the average French person does, we’d need close to three planets to sustain it. Live like the average American and the number climbs higher still.

The uncomfortable truth is that the planet is only holding together because most of humanity is still too poor to consume like the wealthy world does. As more of that population gets richer, and some of it will, that 9% doesn’t stay at 9%. It grows, the same way every other consumption metric grows when purchasing power spreads. We’re not looking at a stable number. We’re looking at a preview.

I also have for a long time questioned whether much of what we call tourism today is even about travel anymore. My work attests to that.

For many people, traveling is just another form of consumption.

They fly somewhere, stay in the same spots, eat at the same chain restaurants, shop in the same luxury stores, and return home with thousands of photos that exist mainly to prove they were there.

The destination changes.

The lifestyle doesn’t.

Social media has accelerated this transformation. Many destinations are no longer visited because they offer something meaningful. They’re visited because their images perform well online.

Travel becomes content.

Experiences become status symbols.

Places become backdrops.

This isn’t the industry malfunctioning. It’s the industry working exactly as designed. Travel companies exist to grow. Growth means selling more trips to more people more often, and the easiest way to do that is to sell travel as a reward, a treat, a thing you’ve earned and deserve, the same script used to sell everything else. Advertise the escape, not the destination. Call it self care. Call it living your best life. The vacation guilt the headlines produce and the vacation obsession the industry produces come from the same machine. One hand points the finger, the other hand keeps the conveyor belt running.

I think it reflects something much deeper than the shallowness of the masses.

Many people feel disconnected from their work, their communities, and even themselves. Life often revolves around earning enough money to repeat the same routine next week. Under these conditions, vacations become less about discovery and more about escape.

People aren’t always searching for another country.

They’re searching for relief.

Give people meaningful work. Give them stronger communities. Give them time with family. Give them parks, culture, nature, and purpose close to home.

Many would feel far less pressure to chase an escape valve on the other side of the planet every summer.

There will always be genuine explorers.

Some people are naturally driven to understand different cultures, ecosystems, languages, and ways of living. They travel to learn, to question their assumptions, and to return home with ideas worth sharing.

I’d guess that’s a minority. Watch how travel actually gets consumed, the itineraries, the photo spots, the same five restaurants recommended to everyone, and it’s hard to conclude that curiosity is the main thing driving most of it.

Historically, travel served the purpose of learning through exploration rather than consumption. People left home to study, exchange knowledge, observe other societies, and bring back innovations that improved their own communities.

Travel wasn’t simply about extracting something from a place.

It was about growing through them.

Today, too much tourism encourages the opposite. It treats landscapes the way it treats products, something to use up and move on from. It’s also flattening a diverse world into sameness.

That isn’t a failure of human nature.

It’s a predictable outcome of an economic system that turns everything into something to be bought and sold.

So yes, I oppose mass tourism. I absolutely do.

I oppose cruise ships that poison the oceans they sail through before dumping their waste in port cities and leaving.

I oppose short weekend flights taken simply because they’re cheap.

I oppose cities being redesigned for visitors while residents are priced out.

I oppose zoos and circuses that trade animal suffering for entertainment.

I oppose beachfront developments that sell the view and never mention what it cost to build.

I even oppose ecotourism, most of the time it’s just greenwashed tourism for the rich, another way to price out ordinary people while the outcome stays the same.

None of that makes the tourist the offender. An industry built to sell escape, and paid handsomely for doing it, is the one that turned a personal desire into an ecological liability.

The system is the culprit.

The environmental crisis will not be solved by making people feel guilty for taking a vacation. Most don’t even care.

It starts with education, teaching people to question the conditioning instead of just living inside it.

From there, it will be solved by degrowth. Not for the nation building its first hospitals or its first clean water system, that’s need. Degrowth is for the societies that already have what they need and keep manufacturing new needs anyway, the Emirates building another amusement park in the desert, Nevada building another casino with a golf course attached. One is need. The other is appetite dressed up as progress.

We already own enough clothes to dress the world for generations. The pile sitting in circulation right now would outlast most of us several times over, yet the fashion industry keeps manufacturing seasonal trends to convince us otherwise. That’s the target. That’s where degrowth should appear.

Less consumerism. Less unnecessary work. Eating plant based, living with less, minimalism as a norm rather than a lifestyle choice for the few. More shared economy and less of the individualism that trains us to treat our own comfort as the only thing worth protecting.

Degrowth looks like communities that function without a car and a credit card for every errand, hobbies that give something back instead of costing something, planting trees and cleaning rivers instead of shopping malls and card tables in casinos.

It looks like people who no longer need two weeks a year on the other side of the planet to remember they’re alive, because the other fifty weeks stopped feeling like a sentence.

Until we are willing to confront that reality, the headlines will keep telling you to fly less while the industry keeps telling you to fly more, and both of them profit from you never noticing it’s the same voice. Guilt won’t shrink a system built to keep expanding. Only pulling its foundations out will.

That’s the trip actually worth taking. And unlike the one on the brochure, nobody’s selling it to you.

Teekay

Every Wildfire Begins with a Sandwich

August 12, 2026 — Leave a comment

France braces for 5th heat wave since June.

France has barely extinguished one of its largest wildfires in decades. An area roughly the size of Hong Kong has burned, and we’re only halfway through the summer. But another heatwave is already here.

People ask how this keeps happening.

I think we’re asking the wrong question.

Every wildfire begins with a sandwich.

Not because a ham sandwich can physically ignite a forest, but because it represents the countless ordinary decisions that build the world in which forests burn.

The sandwich.

The cigarette.

The dairy ice cream we hand to our children without a second thought.

The Shein order arriving tomorrow.

The new backpack and notebooks bought every September even though last year’s are still perfectly usable.

Each decision appears harmless. Each is too small to matter. That is exactly how systems survive. It’s recreated every morning when we choose convenience over necessity, novelty over sufficiency, habit over reflection.

Every purchase is a vote. Not because one purchase changes the world overnight, but because billions of purchases, repeated every day, determine which industries grow, which disappear, and what kind of civilization we continue to finance.

One Amazon order won’t send a billionaire and his friends into space. One dairy ice cream won’t destroy a forest. One unnecessary notebook won’t fill a landfill.

But none of those things happens only once. They happen millions of times, every single day. Eventually those “insignificant” decisions become greenhouse gases, deforestation, polluted rivers, shrinking biodiversity, exhausted soils, expanding infrastructure and ecosystems pushed beyond their limits.

Then comes the heat. Then the drought. Then the spark.

And suddenly everyone becomes an environmentalist.

Hundreds of volunteers leave their homes to protect forests from the flames. They carry water, clear vegetation, do everything they can to stop the fire from reaching nearby villages. Most people see humanity at its finest.

I see humanity desperately trying to repair yesterday while continuing to finance it this morning.

The same people who volunteer their time and energy to protect the forest are then handed tables full of ham and butter sandwiches, soft drinks, sometimes cigarettes.

Volunteering is great. These people are giving their time to protect their homes, their communities, the forest around them. That matters. What bothers me is how easily we separate the emergency from everything that preceded it. We celebrate the person who runs toward the flames while treating the quieter forms of prevention as optional, eccentric, even ridiculous.

Refusing unnecessary consumption isn’t celebrated.

Reusing old supplies isn’t celebrated.

Eating less meat and dairy isn’t celebrated.

Living with less isn’t celebrated.

Those choices rarely earn applause because they happen long before the crisis, when there is no fire to fight and nobody watching. Yet they may matter far more than the dramatic moments that make the evening news.

We have confused loving the way nature makes us feel with caring about nature itself.

We hike through forests while eating products that contribute to the destruction of ecosystems. We photograph mountains while wrapped in disposable consumption. We defend a burning forest while continuing to finance the industries that place increasing pressure on forests around the world. We rush to fight the fire while throwing fuel onto it for the rest of the year. Economic fuel. Cultural fuel. Political fuel.

None of this means every choice weighs the same. A handful of industries and a handful of governments make decisions that outweigh what any individual could do in a lifetime, and no amount of reused notebooks cancels out a pipeline. But that asymmetry is not an excuse. It’s the reason our purchases are also our politics. Every dollar we hand to an industry is a small vote for its continued expansion, and the industries we’re describing don’t grow without millions of us feeding them first.

People often ask who is responsible for ecological collapse. The government? Corporations? Consumers? The uncomfortable answer is that there isn’t a single culprit. There is a chain, a chain in which every link seems too small to matter until the whole thing snaps.

That’s the butterfly effect.

A civilization is not destroyed by one catastrophic decision. It’ss destroyed by millions of ordinary ones.

And every wildfire begins with a sandwich.

Food for thought.

Teekay

The day I let everything go

March 23, 2026 — Leave a comment

Forty bags in one day.

Toddlers throw things away before we teach them to keep them. Psychologists say it’s how they test limits and watch how adults respond.

But maybe there’s something simpler underneath. What if it’s just our nature? What if we aren’t made to hold on so tightly? Maybe accumulation isn’t what we’re wired for?

I remember the moment clearly. I looked around my old place at everything I owned, and it hit me all at once. Too much. Not just cluttered, overwhelming. It made me anxious just standing there. Every object felt like it was pressing in on me.

That’s when it clicked. Not later, not gradually. Right there.

I didn’t ease into minimalism. I snapped into it. That same day, I gave away around forty bags of clothes, shoes and random things I’d been holding onto for years! No slow process, no back and forth. Just done.

The van came later, and while it didn’t start the shift, it definitely amplified it. When everything you own has to fit into a small space, there’s no room for hesitation. You see things clearly, fast.

After that, I started to understand what had been bothering me. Every object I owned was asking something from me. Care, attention, energy. Shoes, clothes, gadgets, books, even the way I ate and what I wore, all of it took a piece. I hadn’t seen it before, then suddenly I couldn’t unsee it anymore. Everything I kept added pressure, stress.

We grow up hearing that more is better. Keep, buy, own. Security becomes something you can hold. Status becomes something you can show. Identity gets tied to what you wear and what you display. It works, that’s the problem. You follow it without thinking, and slowly you drift. The weight isn’t just objects. It’s habits, routines, expectations, distractions. The more you carry, the harder it is to notice yourself.

Minimalism didn’t feel like loss. It felt like breathing again. The less I had, the more I could see what mattered. I started noticing how much energy I’d been giving to things that gave nothing back. How little space I’d left for thinking, for feeling, for just being. The clutter in my space started to mirror the clutter in my head, and I began clearing both.

And it’s not just physical. Life fills up with noise just as easily. Social media, notifications, obligations, habits that don’t fit. It all accumulates. The weight isn’t just what you own, it’s what you let in. What you absorb, what you feel responsible for. Minimalism became less about things and more about attention. Choosing what deserves a place in my life.

Sometimes I watch a toddler drop a toy and move on without a second thought, and it feels familiar. That ease. That lack of hesitation. They don’t think about cost or judgment. They just let go. There’s something honest in that.

I’ve felt it in my own life. Each time I let something go, space opens. My thoughts get quieter. Focus comes back. Energy returns. Underneath all the noise and habits, there’s something steady that was always there. I just couldn’t hear it before.

Peace isn’t in having more. It’s in needing less. In not being weighed down by things, habits, or the constant pull for more. We’re meant to move lighter, to drop what we don’t need and keep what matters. Toddlers know it, and we forgot.

Minimalism isn’t about aesthetics or rules. It’s a return to attention to self.

Less, so you can carry yourself fully. Less, so you can notice life as it is. Less, so you can remember who you are without all the extra weight.

Thanks for reading.

Teekay

Living without electricity isn’t as hard as you think

January 27, 2025 — Leave a comment

Millions of people do it, no bid deal.

Living without a connection to the grid, and mainly the electric grid is a significant lifestyle change.

As a lifelong explorer and survival enthusiast, I’ve always hoped for the best but prepped for the worst.

Live off the grid by Teekay Rezeau-Merah — Off-grid living, photo by Alex Bierwagen

In most Western countries, fundamental commodities such as electricity, running water, well-maintained roads, and a wide range of goods and services are conveniently accessible. However, life is quite different in other parts of the world.

Travel with me

For instance, when my family and I relocated to Mozambique in 1996, basic provisions like sugar and cooking oil were exceptionally scarce. Similarly, when we moved to Ethiopia in 2004, dairy products and sugar were also in short supply.

Not only that, but during our time in Cape Town (South Africa), Maputo (Mozambique), Algiers (Algeria), Addis Ababa (Ethiopia), and (very briefly) Cairo (Egypt), water scarcity was a prevalent issue, particularly during the summer months.

In fact, we used to get up at 4 AM to fill up our water tanks and jugs.

Unfortunately, water shortages are still widely common, and some fierce battles for control over water have already begun.

Water wars

water scarcity by Teekay Rezeau-Merah — Water battles, Image by Freepik

Take the above-mentioned region of East/North Africa for instance. The Nile River is at the heart of an ongoing battle for water.

Indeed, Ethiopia, Egypt, and Burundi are all entangled in a high-stakes discussion that could reshape their destinies.

Long story short, Ethiopia’s audacious endeavor, the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), an engineering marvel rising on the mighty Blue Nile has cause a lot of discussion and anger in that region, rightfully so.

Such an endeavor endangers both Egypt and Burundi, who fear the ripple effects of such a grand project.

An electricity-free lifestyle

oil lamps and candles by Teekay Rezeau-Merah — Oil lamp by Photo by Bernard Tuck

Now, in a perplexing paradox, frequent power outages were extremely common in Ethiopia, and I mean several-times-a-week common, even though Ethiopia possesses ample electricity to meet its population’s needs.

Surprisingly, this occurs because the local government chooses to export their energy to neighboring nations, leaving their own citizens in the dark.

I spent over four years (teenage years) in Ethiopia, over four years of persistent power cuts, so I learned a thing or two about adaptability and ingenious hacks to beat the system.

First of all, I hate artificial (street) lights. One of the things I miss the most about Africa is the tranquil stillness of the night. I always found the incessant intrusion of artificial lights aggressive.
With that being said, I love candles and oil lamps with all my heart. They embody a charm that captivates me entirely. Indeed, candles and oil lamps are a gentle alternative to artificial light, as they gracefully replace it without imposing their presence. Their warm glow is synonymous with coziness, while their soft illumination remains pleasing and comforting to the eyes. Perfection!
Many of us rely on electric utensils and stoves for cooking, not in Africa (not back then at least).
My family always opted for non-electric cooking methods like gas or an outdoor wood-burning stove. Dutch Ovens are also pretty awesome if you want to cook bread and pizzas. No power, no problem.
Food storage: This is a big one. “How did you survive without a fridge?”. First of all, we did have a fridge, it was just turned off most of the time. Since we never had an underground cellar storage (that would’ve saved us the hassle), we had to relearn about ancient cooling techniques, like pot-in-pot coolers (or clay pot coolers).
Here’s how they work: First, you’ll need two terra-cotta pots. Place one (the smaller one) inside the other, allowing for an approximate 3 cm (1.2 in) to 4 cm (1.6 in) gap between them. Fill the gap with sand, then saturate it with water.
Finally, place your fruits and veggies inside the small pot and cover everything with a wet towel.
As the water slowly evaporates from the cooler, heat is taken from the clay pots, keeping the temperature of the food cool inside.
But that’s not the only way to store food, you can also learn about preservation techniques like canning, pickling, and drying.
Heating and cooling: Africa isn’t as hot as they say in movies, it actually gets pretty chilly over there, depending on where you are.
Fun fact: You can ski in Africa. In fact, there’s so much snow in Algeria, Morocco, and South Africa that they have their own ski resorts, with approximately 40 kilometers (25 miles) of ski slopes.
Anyway, one of the most efficient techniques to regulate indoor temperatures is known as “passive solar design”. Passive solar homes use natural ventilation and insulation techniques to regulate the temperature indoors.
However, in colder climates, wood-burning stoves and passive heating methods like thermal mass and efficient insulation are common.
In hotter climates, shading and natural ventilation were our go-to, with evaporative techniques coming in handy (with battery-powered fans).
Water supply: As stated above, we had tankers (or water tanks) in all of our homes. Our water tanks were always placed above the house, allowing for gravity to do the rest.
However, in total transparency, we still relied on an electric current (and water pump) to get the water up there. We used it once to twice a week.
Other methods we used were conventional water wells, hand pumps, and rainwater collection systems. I used to LUHV elaborating and kidgineering rainwater collection systems around the house!
Communication: Well, most of what I’m telling you here went down between 96 and 2010, so iPhones were pretty much nonexistent (for the most part).
However, I did have an MP3, then the first iPod, on which I watched hundreds of movies and my favorite bootlegged series. I used to charge my electronics at school or on our drive home.
We also relied on our landline a lot back then.
Speaking of entertainment, the reason I spent so much time kidgineering and playing outside was that I had no other choice. Video games were a big no-no till I was 15 or 16, so reading, playing board games, puzzles, biking, and pursuing outdoor hobbies was all I did.
I also read the newspapers. No, this wasn’t the ‘70s ^^
Hygiene: Have you ever washed your clothes by hand? And I mean ALL your clothes, not just a pair of socks? Well, I have, and most people still do. It’s no big deal, it’s pretty fun actually.
Human-powered appliances: My grandma (who obviously didn’t live with us) had the best appliance ever made: A hand-cranked coffee grinder.
I loved that thing!
I genuinely believe we need more of this stuff today. It makes life so much more fun.
On a personal level, I’ll always favor an old-school kettle or manual food mill & grinder over new, electric ones. Also, I never owned a microwave.

clay pot cooler or pot-in-pot cooler by Teekay Rezeau_merah — Clay pot cooler by Wikimedia Commons

Final Thoughts

Technology is convenient when used properly and I believe electricity is a blessing to humanity.

However, we ought to reduce our reliance on modern tech and learn how to live simply. As you can see, living without one of the most important inventions known to man, electricity, is doable, though it requires careful planning, resourcefulness, and adaptation to alternative methods. Assessing one’s specific needs and resources is paramount for such an endeavor, but it’s manageable and within everyone’s reach.

Self-reliance is the future.

Thanks for reading.

Peace.

Teekay.

Why We Love Nature but Keep Destroying It

July 24, 2024 — 1 Comment

How can we do better, collectively?

My self-professed love for nature is no secret to my readers.

Being close to nature is and has always been my thing.

Nature is wondrous, full of beauty and peace.

Hiking photo by Teekay Rezeau-Merah — Hiking photo by author Teekay Rezeau-Merah

The reason I became a vegan minimalist was mainly to protect it and its inhabitants.

But doing so opened my eyes on a fascinating paradox, especially in the vegan and vanlife communities; a paradox I ponder upon on a daily basis.

Spending more time in the great outdoors allowed me to come to a poignant realization: The very nature that we, avid nature enthusiasts and animal lovers, hold dear to our hearts, is the very same nature we often unwittingly damage with our bad habits.

How can we enjoy something so much while simultaneously participate in its destruction?

Teekay @teekayrezeaumerah — Please don’t leave toilet paper in nature (photo by author)

Well, here’s where my thinking is at the moment.

Reasoning

First of all, I want to make something clear: As pragmatic as I can be, my personal belief is that human beings are born good.

However, human beings are also amazing at compartmentalizing.

meaning of compatmentalize by Teekay Rezeau-Merah — Screenshot by author

A fitting illustration of my point is that of individuals who profess to be staunch advocates for human rights, yet they contradictorily sport Nike shoes, H&M dresses and Zara pants.

Note: If you don’t know what I’m hinting at, read this.

The same can be said about vegans who consume palm oil, or vanlifers who consume animal products (that destroy the very nature we want to be surrounded by).

Now look, I always say life is all about balance, and I believe it is, but sometimes — often times — rocking something ethically sourced won’t hurt you in any way, shape or form. Perhaps you’ll pay more for it, but you don’t have to if you buy second hand.

This applies to almost all consumables.

So the first takeaway from this piece is to think twice before your next purchases. Always consider the added value of what you buy, its environmental impact and whether there are other alternatives.

That’s one way to tackle this paradox.

Another reason we engage in actions that cause harm to nature is our toxic sense of entitlement, or deservingness.

This manifests itself in different forms: Arrogance, greed, boastfulness or in some cases, negative narcissism.

Some of us behave as if the world owes us. This sense of entitlement emanates from a lack of self-awareness and gratitude, which itself is the result of a Godless, non-religious and non-spiritual society.

Many people believe, wholeheartedly and arrogantly, that everything they have was owed to them.

Hustle culture prescribes “hard work and determination” as the ultimate solution for success, often discarding external factors that also contribute to one’s accomplishments.

Unfortunately, such attitude blinds us from seeing the bigger picture: That none of what we have, none of what we achieve is truly ours, and that it can be taken away from us at any time. It will be when we die.

More humility would do us all a world of good, and without it, we will continue indulging in things that harm us and everything we love.

When the last tree has been cut down, the last fish caught, the last river poisoned, only then will we realize that one cannot eat money. — Native American saying

The third reason behind this great paradox is our lack of concern for the future.

In other words, selfishness.

Social Media may have exasperated this, but many people believe they MUST prioritize their own pleasures and conveniences over the well-being of the environment and future generations.

It’s sickening when you think about it.

But I don’t blame us, not entirely. If anything, we were programmed and brought up this way, but it’s time for a change, a big one.

As a matter of fact, we can’t live like we did 30 years ago, times are changing and so should we, evolution and all.

Indeed, our planet can’t sustain our greed and selfishness for too long, and the time to turn things around is now.

I would never advocate for anything radical, life is all about balance once again.

As such, we don’t have to move to self-built huts, nor do we have to wear banana leaves, but it’s our duty to watch what we consume, how we consume it, and what we want to support.

Your dollars are more potent than your vote and your words. So put your money where your mouth is.

How

You see, I often write about boycotting certain products: Palm oil, white sugar, animal products, single use plastic, brands that pollute our water and source their products in Chinese slave camps and Bengali/Indian sweatshops, brands that support wars, so on and so forth.

To take part of this would make the world significantly better. To do so and to raised our collective awareness is as close to perfection as we can get.

That and reversing consumerism. Remember, minimalism (and essentialism) isn’t just an aesthetic, it’s a philosophy.

In 1927, a Boston-born, Harvard educated son of immigrants went to work for Lehman Brothers. His name was Paul Mazur and his interest in the economics of consumption and retailing made him a rising star in the investment banking establishment for more than 50 years.

Mostly he was responsible for manipulating the psyche of the American consumer. — Sherry Truitt

His philosophy in a nutshell:

“We must shift America from a needs, to a desires culture,” He wrote. “People must be trained to desire, to want new things even before the old had been entirely consumed. We must shape a new mentality in America. Man’s desires must overshadow his needs.”

“Man’s desires must overshadow his needs.” That’s a powerful statement, and a scary one.

So you see, as stated above, human beings are born good, but we were led astray for many decades.

Indeed, our actions are often shaped by cultural and societal norms. Unfortunately, said norms favor efficiency and convenience over wellbeing and ethics. They also favor desires over altruism and consumerism over self-awareness.

We all follow patterns and attitudes considered “normal” in our society, hence why we hardly question anything.

With that being said, let’s not forget that we’re still human, and luckily for us, God bestowed upon us reason and logic.

God gave us free will too, so it’s on us to outgrow our biases and harness original thinking.

Final word

All in all, the paradox of enjoying and destroying nature at the same time is a complex and deeply ingrained issue.

It’s not just about individual behavior, it’s rooted in our cultural, political, and economic systems, making it extremely difficult to shake off.

The one thing I want to leave you with is to question things and at least make sure your actions are aligned with your values, that’s it.

Perhaps some of us have a stronger moral obligation to protect nature, while others don’t. That’s okay, life can’t be perfect and neither can we, but does that mean we should stop trying?

Peace!

Tee.

Clarity with Teekay Podcast Guest-list

August 7, 2023 — 4 Comments

Clarity with Teekay is where I unpack life’s weirdness, one conversation at a time.

Since 2019, I’ve been recording from the cozy space of my home in Bordeaux, digging into culture, society, and whatever else catches my curiosity. Sometimes solo, sometimes with insanely cool guests.

I’ve had all kinds of people on the show: Hollywood execs, international movie stars, doctors, explorers, neuroscientists, microbiologists, pro athletes, writers, marketers, authors, architects, professors, podcasters. They bring their perspectives, I bring my questions, and together, we break things down in ways that (hopefully) make sense.

This podcast is about real, useful ideas, the kind you’d usually pay thousands for in coaching or courses. But I’m putting it out there for free, because why gatekeep good stuff, right? Whether it’s breaking habits, questioning norms, or figuring out how to make life less of a mess, I’m here to help you unlearn, rethink, and build something better.

What to Expect

🔹 [FULL] Episodes – Deep-dive conversations (45 mins), dropping 1-2 times a month.
🔹 [CLIP] Episodes – Short, straight-to-the-point answers (<10 mins), every week.
🔹 [SOLO] Episodes – Just me, rambling about a topic for 7-15 mins, once a month.

You can listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, Google Podcasts, and Stitcher.

The podcast has a bunch of accounts on major social media platforms but to be honest, I don’t use Social media anymore, so if you want to reach out to me, do it here.

If you like the show and want bonus content, you can support it here:
🔗 Subscribe here

Press play and let’s get into it. 🎧

(Guest list below! 👇)

Alejandra P. Arenas, Assistant director and production stage manager – Queretaro, MX
Natalie Christensen, Psychotherapist turned published photographer – Santa Fe, USA
Isabella R. Lash, Actress and acting coach – Virginia, USA
Grace Treutel, Manager of culture and content – Alabama, USA
Miruna Dragomir, Head of marketing at Planable – NYC, USA
Fabian Chegoya, Healthcare IT and revenue cycle management consultant, founder of Chaminger and diplomat kid – Denver, Colorado, USA
Fabe Mitchell, Business owner and coach – Florida, USA
Lachlan Parker, Sport and exercise scientist, esports mental health counsellor, head performance coach for @Renegades, Melbourne, AUS
Brian James, Author of “The Wolf Among Sheep“ – New Orleans, USA
Alexander Tankou, Electric vehicles research associate at the international council on clean transportation – Washington DC, USA
Mardet Guebreyesus, Architect and bestfriend – Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
Deborrah Cooper, Advice columnist, author and Top Female blogger, Southern California, USA
Keith Hutchings, Founder of The Comfortable Home project and sustainability enthusiast – Perth, Australia
Joseph “Joey” Drolshagen, Founder of IFGT Life Coaching LLC, featured in FOX, NBC, CBS and as Top 20 Business Coaches in America in the NYC Journal 2022 – Greenville, SC, USA
Josh from Pursuit of Infinity podcast, Psychedelics expert – Pennsylvania, USA
Craig Gavigan, CEO of the Unplugged brand and national park ranger, Scotland
Lynne Bowman, Plantbased author of Brownies for Breakfast, California, USA
Karen Knight, NPF coach and volunteer management consultant, Canada
Jochen Thomas Grunbeck, Behavioral and consumer psychology expert, London, UK
Megan Sam Holstein, Award-winning personal development, psychology, philosophy, science writer, Columbus, Ohio
Shane Rogers, Stand up comedian, musician and author, California, USA
Marcello Pasqualucci, Head of experimentation at SKY, ex YAM! and HSBC experimentation project manager and neuroscientist, London, UK
Karolina Rzadkowolska, Alcohol-free life coach and author, San Diego, USA
Jas Takhar, CEO, content creator and co-owner of REC Canada and FTGU Media, Toronto, Canada
Michael Buzz Buzinski, President of Buzzworthy Integrated Marketing, Arizona, USA
Richard Flint, Author of 19 books and Human Behavior expert, Washington DC, USA
Andrea Osvart, International film actress and European Golden Globe winner, Budapest, Hungary
John Kenny, The Relationship Guy, London, UK
Dr. Johannes Mallow, PhD and two-time World Memory Champion, Germany
Dave Wann, writer of multiple books and founder of Harmony Village, Golden, Colorado
Brenden Kumarasamy, Public Speaking Coach, Montreal, Canada
Juan Lee, CEO and founder of Clear Journey, Author of Love Made Simple, Maryland, USA
Anne Claessen, MSc LLM, Podcast Host, Strategist & Monetization Expert, Arnhem-Nijmegen Region, Netherlands
Tim Fitzpartrick, B2B Revenue Accelerator and Marketing Consultant, Denver, USA
Connie (Lockhart) Ellefson, Professional Organizer, Aurora, Colorado, USA
Phil B. Pelucha, TV Host & Network founder, Gros Islet, Saint Lucia
Vinnie Potestivo, Emmy Award-winning Media Advisor, New York, USA
Kelly L. Olson, Ph.D., Director, Clinical Affairs – Medical Affairs Specialist, Salt Lake City, Utah, USA
Laurel Foley, Movement Analyst, Indianapolis, Indiana, USA
Kit Huffman, Personal Branding strategist, CEO of Seneca, Jackson WY (now Bariloche, Argentina)
Jen Blanchette
Flobo “Flobito” Boyce, ex US Airforce, Live Entertainment Professional, Standup Comic, California, USA
Yogi Aaron, Yoga teacher and creator of Applied Yoga Anatomy + Muscle Activation™, New York, USA
Linda King, Travel Agent and Writer, Melbourne, Australia
Amanda Kate, Self-Mastery Facilitator, Melbourne, Australia
Kim Sorelle, Writer and Speaker about love, Grand Rapids, Michigan, USA
John Mendez, Marketer & AI Integration Specialist For Real Estate Agents, Stamford, Connecticut, USA
Bastien Siebman, ASANA consultant, Founder and Minimalist, Annecy, Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, France
Cora Kessler, Social Media & Marketing Consultant, Richmond, Virginia, USA
Jerome Bethea, Aka JB The Wizard, Web 3.0 Alignment Branding™ Expert. Creator of The World of Futuring, Hollywood actor, Philadelphia, USA
REV Gabriel Castillo, Lead Facilitator at Church Of The Sacred Spore and Psychedelic expert, Titusville, Florida, USA
Dr. Elaine Ingham, Microbiologist and Founder of Soil Food Web Approach (Soil Regeneration), Oregon, USA
Luke Titus, Creator of the Barefoot Challenge, Wisconsin, USA
Geoff Palmer, Natural Bodybuilding and Natural Physique Masters Champion, Owner of Clean Machine Plant-Based Fitness Nutrition, author, national lecturer, vegan patent holder and 2 Time NEXTY Winner for “Best Supplement of the Year” 2016 & 2018, Pompano Beach, Florida, USA

Thank you for stopping by.

Teekay.

19 Everyday Things We Own Too Many Of

July 31, 2023 — 1 Comment

From cash to trash.

Your home is meant to be a sanctuary

You home wasn’t meant to become a graveyard for your old gadgets and excess stuff.

Home is where we retreat from the outside world, unwind, and recharge ourselves. It’s where we seek solace, relaxation, and tranquility.

Americans spend $1.2 trillion annually on nonessential goods. In other words, items they do not need – The Wall Street Journal.

For most people, home has become the place where they store their stuff.

Do you ever feel overwhelmed by the clutter in your living space?
Is it a challenge for you to locate items or decide what to wear?
Are you occasionally faced with a shortage of hangers?
Does the sight of your closet alone make you feel tired?
Does it take an excessive amount of time to tidy up your home?
Would relocating from your current residence require multiple utility trucks?

If you find yourself answering “yes” to any of these questions, here are the likely culprits for this draining situation.

Note: The following examples and numbers paint a jarring picture of excessive consumption and unnecessary accumulation. Clearly, many of us have far too much stuff.

Food storage containers

How many containers does one need ? Research says 6 to 10 containers per person, we’ve got 3 in our home, for 2 persons.

It’s shocking to me that people hoard these things. Some accumulate them to the point of overflowing cupboards!

Wouldn’t it be great if neighborhoods and buildings provided a designated space where people can share their surplus containers, allowing others to utilize them as needed ? This would help curb the unnecessary purchase of food containers and promote a more sustainable approach to storage.

Note: This doesn’t apply if you meal prep, which is awesome by the way.

Pens

There are already enough pens in circulation that many of us could go years without buying another.

Most people don’t use pens anyway.

Auto tools

You don’t need ten wrenches, Bob ! Seriously, you don’t. One is enough, two is MAX, unless you’re a mechanic.

And just like with containers, I wholeheartedly believe neighborhoods and buildings must provide a space where people can share their tools.

I got mine when I was building my Campervan. I’m more than happy to share them with others.

Reusable shopping bags

Reusable shopping bags are the new plastic bags.

A massive scam.

People collect those even more than they did plastic bags, because they paid more for them.

The problem ? Reusable bags require more plastic, energy and fabric to make.

Forgot your bag at home ? It’s okay, just grab what you can carry. You won’t die of hunger, and it’ll train you to think about your bag next time.

Also, always leave a reusable bag in your bike/car or coat.

Better yet, we must promote the introduction of returnable bags. They have those here in France, they cost 15c each (pricey), which is refunded back to you when you return them.

In fact, we don’t have ANY bags at home, reusable or otherwise. We operate with returnable bags only (and my backpack if need be).

Handbags

Why do people even buy those ? When did this trend begin ?

Since around 1500 AD, handbags have been an essential part of everyday life for both men and women.

It wasn’t until the post-war economic period of the 1950s that handbags were propelled into a cult status.

Can we go back in time ?

To those of you who own a thousand and one bag, you only need ONE, two tops.

It kills me to notice people, particularly women, having an extensive collection in their closets and consistently using the same old handbag. Sell them !

Backpacks

Why would anyone purchase a new backpack if they still have the old one? Aesthetics? Boredom? Maybe a size or quality upgrade?

Whatever the case may be, how about you retire the old one (by giving it to charity) before purchasing a new one ? Just an idea.

Coats

What do you need THREE coats for? It’s not like you can wear them simultaneously, right ? Think about it.

Vases (and other decorative objects)

I don’t even know why vases exist, such a waste of energy, materials and space in my opinion. I like my flowers in a garden, but to each their own.

Toys

British research found that the average 10-year-old owns 238 toys but plays with just 12 daily — The Telegraph.

3.1% of the world’s children live in America, but they own 40% of the toys consumed globally — UCLA.

Let your kids play outside, run around, play sports. Some toys help children develop their curiosity and learn about the world, which I’m all for, long as we buy them used. There are enough toys out in the world that’ll never see the light of day ever again, and even more toys in landfills. Enough !

Let’s stop wasting resources and start thinking differently. By the way, gifts don’t always have to be NEW.

Kitchenware

Perhaps I’m a bit extreme but I only have one single plate, and my wife has one too. A couple of bowls and a mug complete our tableware set ^^

If you’re the type to host lots of gatherings and parties, it makes sense that you have more, but we don’t really, so that’s that.

That said, there are billions of used plates and bowls (and other kitchenware) in the world. Stop buying those at IKEA, flea markets are where it’s at !

Note: We only own one mug because I love drinking out of my 34Oz reusable bottle. Easier to keep track of my water intake that way, and less “stuff” to clutter our home.

Furniture

Nightstands, bed frames (unless absolutely necessary, like for people with bad knees), shelves, chairs, TV stands, coat racks and everything in between. We don’t own any of this stuff and we’re extremely happy with our lives.

Don’t clutter your sanctuary with useless furniture. It costs money, it’s heavy to carry, it makes cleaning more annoying and most of it serves no real purpose.

Empty spaces don’t always need to be filled.

Hangers

If you don’t have enough hangers for your clothes, you have too many clothes.

It’s time to stop buying new and to get rid of all that excess.

By the same token, this logic also applies to closet space: If you don’t have enough space in your closet, you have too much of whatever you’re trying to store in there. Declutter.

Clothes

Speaking of which, we all have too many clothes. I don’t even have to know you to say this.

The average American woman owns 30 outfits — one for every day of the month. In 1930, that figure was nine — Forbes.

Also:

The average American throws away 65 pounds of clothing per year — Huffington Post.

Need I say more ? Sort that stuff out, have just what you need.

Each year, we produce as many clothes as humans have ever existed on Earth. Over 100 billion, for 8 billion people living.

TVs

Why would anyone need an iPad, an iPhone, a MacBook AND a TV ?

Some homes have more television sets than people, it’s crazy ! For me it’s a sign of civilizational decline. It hurts to think nowadays.

Americans spend more on shoes, jewelry, and watches ($100 billion) than on higher education — Psychology Today.

Besides, it’s also time to refocus our attention on how energy consuming TVs are to make and to use.

That aside, we must also find new solutions to FIX them. It makes no sense that fixing an appliance costs as much as buying a new one, it really doesn’t.

Also, we’ve reached a point where TVs are slim enough and smart enough that we hardly need more quality, so why are we pushing for more ? What’s the point ? Most TVs today offer 4K quality, which is already too much.

Want to enjoy a GREAT movie ? Go watch it in a movie theatre. Otherwise, your laptop is more than enough for your late night lullaby.

Offsite storage units

If you live in an apartment, a house or anywhere in between and feel the NEED to have an offsite storage unit, you have a problem.

Your stuff isn’t supposed to take up that much space. If you can’t contain it, get rid of it.

Grooming and hygiene products

People have dozens of shampoos, body lotions, shower gels, and an array of other “beauty” products in their bathrooms.

The multitude of these items cluttering up drawers creates a sense of disorder, disarray and mental fatigue.

But I get it. The “latest and greatest” always looks better. Packaging is always evolving, and marketers work hard to make us buy more.

However, we’ve all been blessed with a sense of logic and reason. Often times, these shiny new objects don’t live up to our expectations. Instead, they end up abandoned in drawers, collecting dust.

They’re also a waste of money and resources, and are likely to end up in landfills or worse, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.

Think before you buy.

Note: I personally use a single natural, organic, vegan and local bar of soap to wash my hair, my face and the rest of my body. My wife and I also share a natural Shea butter bar to keep our skin healthy and hydrated.

Aloe Vera is another great option for the skin but is often sold in plastic, so we don’t buy it.

As for oral hygiene, I use my Miswak during the day and baking soda to brush my teeth after meals. My wife often uses solid toothpaste (so no plastic in our home).

Non-refillable toiletries

Plastic bottles (of all sorts) must be illegal by now. Plastic shampoos and shower gels must be the first ones to go.

I strongly believe that refillable toiletries are the way to a more sustainable future, and I advocate for a higher initial cost when purchasing them.

A higher price point would discourage people from disposing of these items after use, encouraging greater reusability and reducing waste.

Travel size toiletries

People don’t even travel that much, the fact they steal (or borrow permanently) travel size toiletries to keep them in their bathrooms is beyond me.

The greater the usage, the higher the production rate of any particular item. Supply and demand. If we want to eradicate plastic, we must stop financing and promoting the plastic industry.

For those who already have travel size toiletries, don’t toss them. Instead, put them in your shower and use them.

Better yet, give your toiletries to a local homeless shelter or women’s shelter that accepts them. It’ll lighten your load and help someone in need at the same time.

Humans

Yeah, there are way too many humans on this planet.

Final Word

Presently, North America and Western Europe, comprising merely 12% of the global population, contribute to 60% of private consumption spending.

In contrast, the combined population of South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa, accounting for one-third of the world’s pop, represents a mere 3.2% of private consumption spending. (Worldwatch Institute).

Do you see the problems here ?

It’s not just that we overconsume in the West, because that’s a given. But what will happen when South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa starts consuming as much as we do ?

Because they’re coming, and they want everything we have. After all, why would they not ? Many people look up to this absurdity and want the same for themselves.

Consumerism, fashion and flex culture will be the death of us. They are a sign of the dumbing of our current generation. After all, there are more shopping malls than high schools in America, and 93% of teenage girls rank shopping as their favorite pastime (Affluenza).

Question everything guys. Food for thought.

Thanks for reading.

Read more of the same on my Medium page.

Tee.

monkey see, monkey do by Teekay Rezeau-Merah

How Marketing Manipulates Your Brain Through Mirror Neurons

July 17, 2023 — Leave a comment

An article is about a NeuroScientific and neuromarketing concept you never knew existed!

Our brains have this exceptional ability to act as a mirror. This ability is made possible thanks to what we call “mirror neurons”.

Mirror neurons are a type of brain cell responsible for mirroring or simulating the actions of others.

The knowledge of these neurons is relatively recent. In fact, it wasn’t until the 90s that researchers first identified mirror neurons in macaque monkeys.

And what they found was fascinating !

Mirror neurons were found to activate when a monkey performed a specific action, such as grasping a piece of food.

However, the same neurons also activated when the monkey watched another monkey (or a human) perform the same action.

It was unexpected.

The Point

These incredibly cool neurons are said to play an important role in our ability to imitate and learn from others, as well as in our ability to empathize with and understand the intentions of others.

And to be honest, it makes perfect sense.

For instance, I realized very early on that my proficiency in learning new languages was attributed (in part) to my habit of mimicking the language patterns and communication styles of native speakers.

In fact, even when my knowledge of a language is limited, I make a conscious effort to replicate the way words and phrases are pronounced, rather than how they are written and spelled.

By “mirroring” others, I learned 10X faster than before, and I hardly forget anything. I can also sound “native” if I want to, in any language that I speak.

This strategy has been instrumental for me. Becoming fluent in six different languages and comfortable in a couple more didn’t happen overnight, but with the right tactic, language-learning can be a piece of cake.

Check out this little 3-minute clip if you wish to understand how it works.

With that being said, the effect of mirror neurons isn’t just limited to what we see or what we hear, our brain can even experience vicarious touch through others.

Perhaps this explains the boom of ASMR and the porn industry?

New technologies like Virtual Reality are already using the power of our mirror neurons to their advantage, and perhaps ours, as well.

For instance, VR is now used to help us fight certain mental illnesses and cure certain phobias.

VR can obviously never substitute real life, but it could potentially help many of us heal from certain things.

The Dark Side

As an ethical marketer, I must mention this.

In the world of marketing, understanding vicarious touch and mirror neurons has been a game changer.

Instead of designing ads and products blindly, we now purposely target your subconscious mind.

Doing so allows us to create more engaging and memorable experiences for our audience, thus driving up sales and clicks.

Marketers increasingly design experiences that engage our senses and make products feel more tangible, even through a screen.

So instead of making commercials that focus on the product alone, big corporations and marketers now hire actors and tap into all your senses to deliberately activate mirror neurons in you, the viewer.

There are numerous other tactics to trigger buying, here are a couple I’ve used in the past:

Product packaging: Mirror neurons can even be triggered through packaging. In fact, the texture and feel of product packaging evoke more tactile sensations in consumers than they know. For example, a package with a soft, velvety texture creates the impression of luxury and comfort, while a clear, matte packaging evokes warmth and superior quality.
Audio-visual experiences: Videos, music, podcasts and other types of media can evoke sensations of touch through sound and image. These techniques have long been used in the entertainment industry and in adverts to shape culture as a whole.
Scented products: Products that smell cut grass or mint create the sensation of coolness, while the the smell of lavender provides us with a sense of warmth and reminds us of our childhood (and possibly grandparents). Yes, smell is also used to drive up sales, but can only be used in physical businesses (for now).

Understanding human behavior allows us to look at ourselves with more depth.

Understanding ourselves doesn’t just make us wiser, it actually improves our decision making, hence this piece.

By reading this, I hope you’ve gained a bit more self-awareness and understanding of human behavior.

Thanks for reading.

Teekay

The Environmental Cost of Colorful Clothing

July 10, 2023 — Leave a comment

Hi!

My name is Teekay and I’m obsessed with vibrant colors.

From bright sneakers to colorful hoodies, I’ve never been the type to dress in plain black or gray. Bright colors make me feel alive. They lift my mood, give me energy and help me express who I am.

When I put on my yellow T-shirt or my orange fleece, I feel optimistic, confident and ready for the day.

But my attachment to colorful clothing goes beyond aesthetics.

Across much of Africa, Asia and South America, vibrant clothing has always carried meaning. Colors celebrate identity, culture and tradition. From African wax prints to Andean ponchos, clothing tells stories without saying a word.

I grew up appreciating that.

For me, wearing colorful clothes has always been a way of expressing myself while staying connected to a part of my cultural heritage.

So naturally, I never questioned it.

Like most people, I admired the finished product without giving much thought to how it was made.

In fact, for the longest time, I genuinely believed sewing threads came pre-colored.

Ignorance is bliss.

As I grew older and became increasingly interested in environmental issues, I began questioning almost everything I owned. Where did it come from? Who made it? What resources were needed to produce it? What happened after I threw it away?

Eventually, those questions reached my wardrobe.

The answers weren’t what I expected.

The more I learned about the textile industry, the harder it became to look at colorful clothing the same way.

What once represented creativity and self-expression suddenly revealed another side entirely, one hidden behind factory walls, polluted rivers and supply chains most of us never think about.

That realization forced me to confront something I didn’t want to admit.

I could no longer claim to care deeply about the environment while ignoring the environmental cost of one of my favorite things.

I don’t make exceptions when my values are involved.

Changing my mind isn’t a weakness. Refusing to change despite new information is.

That’s one of the reasons I left social media and mass media years ago.

Conformism is intellectual death.

I don’t scroll. I don’t watch television. I only read the news when I’m researching something. I even stopped listening to music.

Stepping away from constant stimulation gives me the space to think for myself, to challenge my own habits instead of simply following everyone else’s.

Before learning about textile dyes, I would’ve defended my colorful wardrobe without hesitation. I would’ve convinced myself that my choices made no difference and that everyone else was doing the same thing anyway.

My thinking was flawed.

Individual actions don’t solve every global problem.

But they do shape the world we choose to support.

Once I understood what was hiding behind the colors I loved so much, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know anymore.

So I started asking a different question.

What does it actually take to make our clothes so colorful?

What it really takes to make clothes colorful

Like most people, I never thought much about textile dyes.

I assumed fabrics simply came in different colors. I never wondered where those colors came from, how they were made or what happened once the dyeing process was over.

As it turns out, that’s where one of the fashion industry’s biggest environmental problems begins.

Every vibrant shirt, hoodie or pair of sneakers has to be dyed. While that may sound harmless, textile dyeing is one of the most polluting stages of clothing production.

According to the World Bank, textile dyeing is responsible for roughly 20% of global industrial water pollution.

Twenty percent.

I had to read that number twice.

The water used to dye our clothes is often mixed with synthetic chemicals, salts and heavy metals. In many parts of the world, especially where environmental regulations are weak or poorly enforced, that wastewater finds its way back into rivers and streams with little or no treatment.

The colors we enjoy don’t simply disappear.

They go somewhere.

Many synthetic dyes contain substances such as lead, cadmium and mercury, all of which can damage ecosystems and pose health risks to both wildlife and humans.

The pollution doesn’t stop once a garment leaves the factory either.

Every time we wash synthetic clothing, tiny plastic microfibers are released into our waterways. Most are too small to be filtered out by wastewater treatment plants, meaning they eventually end up in rivers, lakes and oceans.

The more I learned, the more difficult it became to separate my wardrobe from its environmental footprint.

Then I discovered something else.

Color wasn’t the only problem.

The dyes were only the beginning.

The entire fashion industry relies on enormous amounts of water, energy and raw materials.

Take a simple cotton T-shirt.

Producing just one can require around 2,700 liters of water. That’s often described as enough drinking water for one person for roughly two and a half years.

It’s difficult to comprehend numbers that large.

Yet most of us own dozens of shirts.

Then came another statistic that genuinely shocked me.

The fashion industry is responsible for roughly 10% of global carbon emissions, more than international aviation and maritime shipping combined.

And despite all those resources, most clothing doesn’t stay in circulation very long.

Around 87% of textile fibers eventually end up incinerated or buried in landfills.

Think about that for a moment.

We extract resources from the earth, consume vast amounts of water and energy to turn them into clothing, transport those garments across the planet and then throw most of them away after only a fraction of their useful life.

The problem isn’t color alone.

It’s the entire system surrounding it.

That realization changed the way I looked at my wardrobe.

It also forced me to ask a much more uncomfortable question.

If I already know all of this, how should I respond?

The only response that made sense to me

When I first learned all this, I wasn’t sure what to do.

I wasn’t about to throw away my wardrobe.

That would’ve been wasteful.

Nor was I willing to give up colors altogether.

After all, colors make me happy. They always have.

For a while, I found myself caught between two values I wasn’t willing to abandon.

On one side was my love for vibrant clothing.

On the other was my desire to live in a way that respects nature.

Reconciling the two wasn’t easy.

Then I realized something.

The problem wasn’t colorful clothing.

The problem was how we produce, consume and dispose of clothing.

Those aren’t the same thing.

It’s easy to blame a product.

It’s much harder to question the system that made the product so cheap, disposable and abundant in the first place.

That’s where minimalism entered the picture.

Not the version of minimalism that’s obsessed with white walls, empty apartments and owning exactly thirty-three possessions.

The version that asks a much simpler question.

Do I really need this?

Minimalism isn’t about deprivation.

It’s about intentionality.

It asks us to pause before buying.

To question whether we’re purchasing something because we genuinely need it, because it’ll last, because it’ll improve our lives, or simply because it’s new, colorful and temporarily exciting.

That distinction changed everything for me.

Instead of asking, “Can I buy this?”

I started asking, “Should I?”

Those are two completely different questions.

One is financial.

The other is moral.

Minimalism taught me that every purchase is a vote.

Every dollar we spend rewards a certain way of producing goods and encourages companies to continue doing more of it.

Whether we realize it or not, our wallets shape the world.

That’s why I no longer believe minimalism is just a lifestyle.

I see it as one of the most practical environmental tools available to ordinary people.

Buying less means fewer resources extracted from the earth.

Buying better encourages companies that invest in quality instead of disposability.

Buying secondhand extends the life of products that already exist instead of demanding new ones.

None of these actions will solve climate change on their own.

I know that.

But that’s never been the point.

People often dismiss individual actions because they’re small.

I think that’s a mistake.

Every large movement begins with individuals deciding to behave differently.

No one waits for society to change before changing society.

Individual actions don’t matter because they’re large.

They matter because they’re contagious.

The more I reflected on all this, the more obvious my next step became.

I wasn’t going to stop appreciating beautiful colors.

I was simply going to become far more selective about where those colors came from.

Whenever possible, I’d buy secondhand.

When buying new, I’d prioritize durable clothing over trendy clothing, natural dyes over synthetic ones whenever feasible and usefulness over impulse.

That may not change the world overnight.

But it’ll change the part of the world I’m responsible for.

And that’s enough reason to do it.

What I’m changing

Changing my habits doesn’t mean rejecting everything I own.

Quite the opposite.

Throwing away perfectly good clothes simply to replace them with “eco-friendly” alternatives would only create more waste.

The most sustainable garment is often the one that’s already in your closet.

So I’m keeping the colorful clothes I already own.

I’ll wear them until they can no longer be repaired.

That’s the minimalist approach.

Respect what already exists before demanding something new.

What will change is how I shop from now on.

Whenever possible, I’ll buy secondhand first.

Almost everything I own already comes from thrift stores, online marketplaces or flea markets. Aside from underwear and socks, I see little reason to insist on buying new.

Secondhand shopping doesn’t just save money.

It keeps perfectly usable clothing in circulation and reduces the demand for new production.

When I do buy new, I’ll try to choose garments that are built to last.

Not because they’re fashionable.

Not because they’re trendy.

Because durability is one of the most overlooked forms of sustainability.

A shirt that lasts ten years is usually far better for the environment than five shirts that each last two.

Whenever possible, I’ll also look for brands that use natural or lower-impact dyes.

They’re not perfect.

No product is.

But supporting companies that are genuinely trying to improve their production methods is one way of encouraging better practices across the industry.

The final change is perhaps the simplest.

I’ll wash my clothes less often.

Not because I enjoy dirty clothes.

Because most garments simply don’t need to be washed after every use.

Less washing means less water, less electricity, fewer detergents entering waterways and less wear on the fabric itself.

Ironically, my clothes now last longer because I clean them less.

Living without a washing machine taught me that.

At first, I thought it would be inconvenient.

Instead, it changed my relationship with clothing altogether.

We naturally started accumulating fewer clothes, washing larger loads less frequently and appreciating what we already had.

It also made me realize something much bigger.

Not every household needs to own every appliance.

Shared laundries make a great deal of sense, especially in apartment buildings.

One washing machine used efficiently by many households often has a lower environmental footprint than dozens of underused machines sitting behind dozens of different doors.

The same principle applies to many other things we own.

Perhaps the future isn’t about owning more.

Perhaps it’s about sharing more.

The sharing economy deserves an essay of its own.

For now, I’ll leave that thought here.

Because ultimately, this article isn’t about washing machines.

It isn’t even about colorful clothes.

It’s about becoming more conscious of the hidden cost behind the ordinary things we rarely question.

Once we begin asking those questions, it’s surprisingly difficult to stop.

Final thoughts

Writing this essay didn’t make me love colorful clothing any less.

If anything, it reminded me why I loved it in the first place.

Colors express joy, creativity and culture. They tell stories. They allow us to celebrate who we are.

The problem was never color.

The problem was everything hidden behind it.

Like many environmental issues, textile pollution remains largely invisible to those of us living thousands of miles away from where our clothes are made.

We don’t see polluted rivers.

We don’t breathe the chemicals.

We don’t meet the workers handling hazardous dyes every day.

We simply see a colorful shirt hanging under bright lights in a clean store.

It’s easy to disconnect consumption from consequence.

I know, because I did it for years.

But once we become aware of the hidden cost behind everyday products, pretending not to know becomes much harder.

That doesn’t mean we should strive for perfection.

Perfection doesn’t exist.

None of us will ever make perfectly ethical purchases.

I certainly won’t.

What matters is that we keep moving in the right direction.

Maybe that means buying one less shirt this year.

Maybe it means repairing one instead of replacing it.

Maybe it means discovering that your favorite jacket already exists in a thrift store.

Small actions rarely make headlines.

They quietly become habits.

And habits eventually become culture.

I often write about minimalism because I genuinely believe it offers practical solutions to many of the challenges we face today.

Environmental degradation.

Financial stress.

Consumerism.

Clutter.

Even mental fatigue.

Owning less doesn’t solve every problem.

But owning intentionally changes the relationship we have with everything else.

In many ways, that’s what this essay has really been about.

Not colorful clothing.

Not textile dyes.

Not even fashion.

It’s about learning to see the invisible consequences of ordinary decisions.

Because every purchase supports a certain vision of the future.

The question isn’t whether our choices matter.

The question is:

What kind of world are our choices helping create?

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I write about minimalism, intentional living, environmental solutions, travel and the world as it could be.

Thanks for reading.

Tee.