Transforming Cultures

Every year, the Academy Awards ceremony celebrates the world’s best actors and actresses, directors, and even costumes. So why not the best brand? Brands have become a driving force of Hollywood entertainment and are now part of nearly every plot. Sometimes, like the Chevy Camaro in the film Transformers, they even become characters themselves.

So why aren’t these talented brands getting the recognition they deserve? To fix this, I’ve decided to add a new category to the Academy Awards lineup: Best Brand.

The nominees this year are Coca-Cola, for its appearance in 11 movies; Ford, for its appearance in 13 movies; and Apple, for its appearance in 18 movies. And the winner is….

Apple!

The Oscar for Best Brand Goes to Apple!

Not only did this prolific brand weasel its way into 18 movies, but these films reached significantly different demographics, from the adult female consumer (He’s Just Not That Into You) to the male and female teenager (Taken and Hannah Montana), to young children (G-Force and Race to Witch Mountain). (If you haven’t heard of these movies, you’re probably better off.) And with all of its targeting of children and teens, Apple is quite strategically building its future customer base.

Good job, Apple! Way to brainwash a whole new generation with the idea that your products are cool, hip, and essential to our happiness. I only wish I was writing this blog on a new iPad tablet, because my computer just doesn’t seem good enough anymore.

Of course, it’d be great to see this new category excised from the annual awards ceremony—like the tumorous growth it is—but I can’t imagine a scenario where any effective legal restrictions on product placements or (in industry jargon “Brand Integration”) are adopted, or where there is any reduction in the $3.5 billion spent each year in the U.S. to infect movies with brand propaganda.

Recognizing this reality¸ it would be nice to at least see this powerful tool also used by truly sustainable companies and products. Imagine watching cool characters shop at Goodwill instead of The Gap. Imagine sexy celebrities scrubbing themselves with Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soap instead of a toxic beauty bar. Picture them cleaning their countertops with baking soda instead of carcinogen-laced cleaning products. Imagine them reading Worldatch’s State of the World 2010 report instead of the newest issue of GQ. (Ok, I couldn’t resist doing a bit of brand integration myself!)

These subtle references shape our reality, and the more we can influence this process, finding amenable directors and studios, that would be a big help. Not as big a help as banning product placements altogether, but definitely worth some serious attention by those working to shift cultures to center on sustainability instead of consumerism.

Recently I watched Garbage Dreams, a new documentary that follows several teen boys of the Zaballeen—a group of Egyptian Christians living in Cairo that make their living sorting garbage and selling the salvageable scrap (Zaballeen literally means “Garbage People” in Arabic).

As the film demonstrates, this caste of people provide an incredibly valuable service to Cairo, recycling about 80% of trash—more than three times that of Wales, which these teens visit to “learn” from the Welsh sanitation services. While observing Welsh operations and examining all the garbage that isn’t recycled, they fairly note, “It’s a shame that we don’t live here—it’s a loss for this country.” I agree, especially since they do much of the same work with minimal technology (and thus less fossil fuel), with no support from the government (in form of trash fees), and without the aid of “source separation” where households separate recyclables from organic waste.

The movie reveals the lead conflict early on, when a multinational sanitation company arrives in Cairo to start dealing with the waste, even though the city has to pay these contractors and their recycling rates are clearly lower. A few of the young protagonists visit a landfill that is run by the company and are horrified by all the salvageable garbage being buried. The viewer can’t help but wonder what would have happened if the Cairo government had actually consulted with the Zaballeen and offered to give a small percentage of the fees they’re paying the sanitation company in the form of technology support. The Zaballeen’s efficiency would have probably shot up even higher, all at a fraction of the cost.

But while this conflict is frustrating to watch, especially since (spoiler alert) it doesn’t go very well in the end, what amazed me was how much these income-poor Zaballeen are consumers. Not only did they have all the trappings of consumers—electronic gadgets, hair gel and cosmetics, TVs, basketball shoes, and stereos, even while living in slums—but they acted as consumers too. Just one example: one of the protagonists, Nabil, describes at one point how his father was jailed for building him an illegal apartment on the roof of their building. He explains how, one day, after his father was jailed, Nabil thought about him while playing Play Station, and wanted to cry. But instead, he put in a new hit song that he bought, and felt better. That makes me want to cry. Consuming is such a good way to distract ourselves from painful moments, discomfort, boredom, etc., that we often have difficulty even dealing with these moments any longer, and retreat more and more into consuming.

But why I really was saddened by the film was that the filmmakers never drew attention to the realities of the consumer culture—the same one that the Zaballeen have joined and the same that much of the world’s people have too. Consumerism stimulates high consumption lifestyles, which not only generates massive mounds of trash but creates toxic waste, climate changing gases, encourages the exploitation of the poorest in the quest to get ever cheaper stuff, and leads to societal problems like the obesity epidemic. While a fascinating look at trash and one community’s struggle to maintain its livelihood, Garbage Dreams really missed the mark by not drawing attention to the root of this problem: a culture that makes it feel natural to consume (and waste) ever more stuff.

A few days ago I watched the upcoming film Last Supper for Malthus: The Permanent Food Crisis. This film cleverly uses running commentary by the ghosts of Thomas Malthus and David Ricardo to discuss the modern food crisis—where 1 billion people are now chronically undernourished. The film centers around this question: Is the food crisis caused simply because animals (including humans) reproduce beyond the carrying capacity of their environment and thus inevitably some starve (as Malthus states), or is this a systemic failing due to current distortions in trade, priorities, and so on (as Ricardo states)?

The documentary, being quite short and not clearly coming down on one side, leaves it to the viewer to determine whether starvation is natural or stems from systemic failings—which considering the complexity of agriculture today, perhaps wasn’t the best editorial choice. Speculation, agri-business interests, unmeasured externalities, dependence on aquifers that once gone will make many lands unsuitable for agriculture, biofuels’ rapid growth, and distortions from the World Bank and World Trade Organization all have significant and complex impacts on the global food system—too complex for most viewers to clearly understand in a lifetime, let alone 52 minutes (myself included). Thus, it would have been welcome to have more elaboration on the role of powerful interests to clearly show that even if Malthus is right—by nature we do grow beyond our means to survive—the system is at least accelerating this tendency instead of inhibiting it.

But I do want to draw attention to a powerful quotation in the film to draw out consumerism’s role in this crisis. Towards the end of the film, Gary Howe of the International Fund for Agricultural Development says,

“We’re not anywhere near the limits at the moment. That’s nonsense. We are not in that sort of crisis. Humanity is not coming to an end, it’s not the end of the world, and no, you don’t have to go on a diet tomorrow. But it is clear that our systems, which are accelerating consumption, cannot be sustained. Not by agriculture, not by the Earth.”

That is a key point. The global food system won’t crash tomorrow, even if one billion are already starving today. But add a few ill-timed stressors: climate change-driven drought or storms for example, combined with the spread of consumption-accelerating systems in developing countries (such as the intentional stimulation of desire for meat and cars by these industries) and the system “cannot be sustained.” Period.

Let me draw attention to two great bits from the film that reinforce this.

First is a clip of archival footage that describes how chicken, which used to be a very expensive meat in America and only eaten on special occasions, “is now thrifty everyday.” Changes in production—what we know now as confined agricultural feeding operations (CAFOs)—supported by grain subsidies, externalization of pollution and so on, has played a significant role in accelerating consumption. These production techniques will have to be changed, not exported to other countries—as CAFOs have been exported to more and more countries of the world over the last few decades.

The second bit was the discussion of biofuels. As the film notes, ironically, to combat climate change we’re redirecting 5 percent of global grain production into making biofuels. But in the process, we’re raising grain prices and pricing the poor out of the market (hence the total undernourished increasing by 150 million over the past few years). But what was so powerful was a statement by Jean Ziegler, author of Empire of Shame.

“To fill a 50 liter car tank running on ethanol, you need to burn 354 kilos of corn. With 354 kilos of corn, a Mexican or Zambian child lives another year. It is therefore a crime against humanity.”

A bold statement, one that I would agree with (once one understands the linkage, continuing to do this is immoral). But if that is a crime against humanity, so is eating too much meat, or feeding meat or even grain to pets, as this too is food shifted away from starving humans for luxurious living by those that can afford it.

Surely, few will agree with these statements, as it is our culture to not see things in these terms, to see instead that it is our right to eat what we want, to buy whatever we can afford. And even more: we’re used to living these ways and we rarely think about whether a certain habitual act is moral or not—it’s simply the normal way to live. But the beauty of culture (and its danger) is that anything can be made to feel normal. The problem of course is that those things that are now normal cause tremendous suffering and are leading to the destabilization of all of human civilization. Yet as most people—from policymakers to journalists and from advertisers to friends—all tell us that how we live is normal (and even superior) we rebel against those who criticize the current system. But as Malthus says to Ricardo at the end of the movie as they head to dinner before returning to the cemetery, “Rather be right than liked. Ruddy ostriches!”

Since the spring, I’ve been following director Franny Armstrong’s effort to create the largest global film release ever (she’s trying to beat Star Wars). In just 7 days, on September 21, Franny’s new film Age of Stupid will be released around the world. As someone who was lucky enough to get a sneak peak, I highly recommend that you watch it at a theater near you. You won’t be disappointed. A bit depressed maybe, but not disappointed (and don’t worry, there’s an exciting action piece at the end so it’s not all “gloom and doom”). Below is a widget that will provide you with all the information you need to find a showing. [Update: while that widget worked on Firefox, it wasn't working on Explorer, so please instead visit Age of Stupid's website]

If there’s ever a film that can teach you about the history of the planet and the progression of civilization on earth from time beginning up until the 21st century, then this 90-minute film called “Home”  may be it. But more than a documentary of life on earth and humanity’s imprint on the natural world order, this extensive film is an artistic piece of aerially shot images of landscapes both natural and man-made, intended to compel with narrations and juxtaposing images of virgin forests, coral reef islands, smoking landfills and industrial-style cattle feedlots.

Can a film change the way we understand our relationship to our world, particularly given the complexity of the industrialized world order that is being explained to us in hour and a half film heavy on narrative information? Let’s hope the answer is yes, as “It’s too late to be a pessimist” (or so goes the narrative in the last winding minutes of the film).

If it’s too late to be a pessimist, then the film’s vision of optimism could have gone even further. Sure, it includes the standard elements: renewable energy technology—filled with the powerful shots of wind turbines and solar panels; a Doctors Without Borders plane flying in the sky; and a painted image of anti-apartheid hero Nelson Mandela to inspire a new world-changing social movement.

But is this enough? Why only 15 minutes of solutions after painstakingly describing the coming collapse of Earth’s ecosystems? Why not include some discussion of recommendations to help the viewer learn more about what he or she just watched? Or perhaps, it could have shown simple steps for anyone around the world to start taking action, such as eating less meat, reusing containers, using public transport instead of driving, and narrating those images with numbers on oil consumption and carbon emissions avoided. And beyond that, why not describe the multiple interrelated transformations that need to occur, not just of our energy systems but our entire cultural systems? From what drives business to how we celebrate rituals, from what we eat to how we educate our children. Perhaps this calls for a sequel: Home Again.

For now, it is left to the viewer’s imagination to translate that macroscopic vision of our earthly home and apply it to his or her microscopic life. Let’s hope that the photographic and narrative artistry of this film is not taken for granted, and it achieves its goal of compelling the viewer to move beyond pessimism and act.