

Fred Pearce decided to trace the origins of his “stuff,” the everyday items those of us living in industrialized nations take for granted. His journey took him from the depths of South African gold mines to sprawling computer manufacturing centers in China.
Fred learned that globalized consumption patterns have created a fragile, intricately interwoven system in which the addictions of industrialized nations create third world livelihoods. Like a house of cards, if one card is pulled, the whole house falls.
“Many of the people who recoil at the idea of vegetable air miles, and would not be seen dead buying a Kenyan green bean in their supermarket,” writes Pearce, “also want to help poor countries like Kenya through ‘trade not aid.’ There is a contradiction here. And this is not a trivial issue. Green beans are a major Kenyan export, and 70 percent of those exports come to Britain.”
Pearce goes on to further explain the complexity of the Kenyan green bean grown by his new friend Jacob, then proposes a challenge to the anti air mile reader, or “air mile crusader” as he refers to them: “Still tempted to reduce your emissions by cutting out Kenyan beans? Take the bus to the supermarket, buy a bit less processed food, do something that will hurt you, yes you, not Jacob.”
In addition to putting a story to his stuff, throughout his book Pearce provides a number of interesting and useful facts. For instance, the average cotton T-shirt requires about 3 ounces of fertilizer and from 500 to 1,800 gallons of water. These are astounding figures, and there are plenty more in the book.
I found Confessions of an Eco-Sinner to be a great read. It certainly got me thinking about my own stuff and its origins. While I consider myself to have some eco-smarts, I discovered I had a lot to learn. I also found that the answers are not as easy as I once thought them to be. We all need to think about where our stuff originates.![]()