Houston Chronicle

IT’S NOT THAT HARD TO BUY NOTHING

But it requires commitment to change our consumer mentality and to give back

- By Britany Robinson

Elizabeth Chai decided she would not buy anything in 2020, with the exception of food, coffee, toiletries (if she ran out of something essential) and the occasional service like a haircut. She would resist the urge to add to her wardrobe or to buy anything material for her home. She would fix things or borrow them instead of purchasing new ones, and she would get rid of stuff she already had; 2,020 items sold, donated or tossed was her goal.

Her “buy-nothing” commitment was inspired by a desire to minimize her impact on the planet and to better appreciate what she already owns. She told some friends about the project and made a list of rules to hold herself accountabl­e.

This was before the pandemic forced many in the world to become homebound for much of the year. Three months into her experiment, Chai, 40, who works as a graphic designer in Portland, Ore., found herself surrounded solely by her belongings, without the escape or variety of her normal life.

But she stuck to the commitment, regularly donating or selling things she didn’t need and resisting temptation­s to purchase new ones. Instead of buying stuff, she’s been making a list. If she still wants something on her list at the end of the year, perhaps she’ll treat herself in 2021. What she learned is that temptation­s fade surprising­ly fast.

At the start of COVID-19 shutdowns, total consumer spending dropped, but online shopping spiked. And despite the cascade of job losses and waves of financial insecurity, there was about a 7 percent increase in consumer spending of goods from January to September. (Loungewear, workout equipment, robot vacuums and vibrators are some of the products that sold well this year.)

Still, some found consuming more stressful and fraught than ever. More people are learning how the impacts of consumptio­n and waste are contributi­ng to the climate crisis, and there is increasing resentment for corporatio­ns that are getting richer as so many people struggle. Buying just about anything already felt like a moral conundrum. The pandemic introduced additional questions of how and what to buy without potentiall­y putting others in harm’s way.

Nivi Achanta, who lives in Seattle, became especially curious about being a better consumer. In August, she had to reexamine her spending habits when she lost her job at a

tech consulting agency she had been with since 2017; it was her first job out of college and the money was good. But Achanta, 25, said she was often frustrated by a disconnect between the company’s stated values and what they actually prioritize­d. They would talk about elevating social issues, but when it came down to it, profit always came first. “And I was just making rich people richer,” she said.

Achanta figured she’d make money first and focus on making a difference later. But losing her job forced that change much sooner. In September, she began working full time on The Soapbox Project, a platform for informing and guiding action on a range of social-justice issues.

In an article she wrote for The Soapbox Project about sustainabl­e gifts, Achanta did not list a bunch of eco-friendly products people can put a bow on, instead writing, “The best way to be sustainabl­e is to stop buying stuff.” Her gift suggestion­s include digital subscripti­ons and educationa­l resources, along with some products that replace single-use versions. (This is also a practical matter: Achanta went from a six-figure paycheck to making a few hundred dollars a month and living off her savings.)

Through The Soapbox Project, Achanta aims to educate readers about practical ways to decrease their impact on the planet, whether or not they are strapped for cash. For example, she’s writing a lot about buying things secondhand. “Now I’m really following through on that

advice, because it’s environmen­tally and financiall­y responsibl­e,” she said.

Cynthia Tina, the communicat­ions director of the Foundation for Intentiona­l Community, sees another option for guilty consumers: joining intentiona­l communitie­s where goods are often shared, made and traded among members. “Not everyone needs to own their own lawn mower or washing machine,” she said.

Intentiona­l communitie­s range from economical­ly selfsuffic­ient communes with their own systems of income to citybased apartment complexes with shared living space. But sharing resources almost always means sharing germs, too. So while some smaller, rural communitie­s have benefited from the

safety of isolation and a closedoff pod of social interactio­ns, others have struggled to balance differing expectatio­ns of social distancing among members.

Neverthele­ss, Tina, 27, has noted a surge of interest in communal living this year — particular­ly around sharing resources. She herself moved into the intentiona­l community Headwaters Garden and Learning Center, an eco-village in Cabot, Vt., this year. She said she is in the process of building her own home there — solar-powered, made of straw and clay — surrounded by land on which she and fellow community members grow and share food.

It doesn’t relieve her of having to buy things or employ people to undertake services, especially

when it comes to building her home, but she said, it helps her live life “peripheral to the capitalist, 9-to-5 reality.”

Chai sees resource-sharing as something that can be built into communitie­s wherever people are. Because she focused on using her money more deliberate­ly this year, she was able to help loved ones who lost work and were struggling to pay rent. And when protests broke out in response to the police killing of George Floyd, she donated to bail funds: “I didn’t have to think twice about it,” she said.

Despite her buy-nothing pledge, she also still supports small businesses, such as independen­t coffee shops, through purchases of food and coffee, or through donations.

When a videograph­er friend made a short video about her buy-nothing project and shared it on Instagram, Chai started to receive lots of questions from people wanting to try something similar.

She considered sharing her list of rules. (OK to buy: coffee filters, tech items if something is broken, gifts. Not OK: cookware, storage bins, notebooks.) “But that is such a tricky thing because the rules I came up with are very specific to me,” she said.

Chai did successful­ly rid herself of 2,020 things by the end of the year with the help of a spreadshee­t. So she’s thinking about extending the experiment into 2021, and perhaps she will be able to offer more advice then. Because she certainly doesn’t regret it. “I’m looking around and everything is something I want to be in here,” she said.

 ?? Photos by Nils Ericson / New York Times ?? Elizabeth Chai, shown with her dog, Mr. B, donated a good number of her belongings in 2020 in an effort to live a more minimalist lifestyle.
Photos by Nils Ericson / New York Times Elizabeth Chai, shown with her dog, Mr. B, donated a good number of her belongings in 2020 in an effort to live a more minimalist lifestyle.
 ??  ?? Living a minimalist lifestyle doesn’t mean living without style, it just requires a more mindful approach to buying goods.
Living a minimalist lifestyle doesn’t mean living without style, it just requires a more mindful approach to buying goods.
 ?? Nils Ericson / New York Times ?? Elizabeth Chai was able to reach her goal of donating 2,020 items by the end of the year.
Nils Ericson / New York Times Elizabeth Chai was able to reach her goal of donating 2,020 items by the end of the year.

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