OPINION: My mate Mod is the quintessential car lover. He sees a rusty old Ford and perceives a thing of beauty, of engineering prowess and of craft.
This is the guy who fronted a TV series driving around the back blocks of New Zealand to find dilapidated old vehicles only to spend a day or two getting them going again – just for the fun of it. Mod is a good mate, but this is one part of him that I really don’t understand.
I, on the other hand, consider a car a necessary evil. I also see it as the epitome of suboptimal fixes layered on top of suboptimal fixes.
Have a big engine that needs external power to start? Strap on a big starter motor purely for the times you turn the key. Need something to get that starter motor moving? Chuck in a big, heavy and limited-lifespan lead-acid battery. Now concerned that said battery will go flat after a few starts? Cram in an alternator to keep the battery charged. I could go on, but I open the bonnet of petrol or diesel cars and all I see is fixes to symptoms of problems rather than the problem itself.
I was thinking about the fact that cars make no sense to me the other day, as I was reading a Stuff article detailing an investigation by Consumer NZ into some claims that a few fashion companies had made in terms of the sustainability of their garments.
These firms range the gamut from small fashion houses that are very much at the forefront of sustainability (in this case, New Zealand brand Maggie Marilyn) to those that, in the highly biased mind of this particular environmentally-conscious consumer, are the mother lode of the fast-fashion problem (that’d be H&M). Seem like strange bedfellows, right?
Now before I opine on the issues with this report, a quick explanation: The fashion industry is typified by global supply chains.
The T-shirt you’re wearing is likely made from cotton that was grown in China, shipped thousands of miles to be spun into yarn before potentially enjoying another long trip to be made into fabric. From there, the fabric is likely shipped to Bangladesh or Vietnam where it is cut and sewn into garments before finally making its way to you, via a few distribution hubs.
The environmental cost of this model is huge – transportation, obviously, but also the direct but unseen impacts of production in all those far-flung locations.
It is for this reason (or, to be more accurate, for the purposes of simply doing enough to allay consumers’ fears) that a number of different certification programmes have sprung up to give some kind of tick of approval to a garment. Bluesign, OekoTex, OCS and GOTS are just some examples.
Those are all legitimate certifications, but I could also have included WWAT and VSC as well (respectively Willy Wonka’s Apparel Tick and Virtue Signalling Certification).
As you can tell, I’m no huge fan of certification – partly because there are many where it’s a case of companies paying a consultant a few thousand dollars to produce a meaningless piece of paper, and in the case of the former examples, the compliance becomes hugely convoluted.
It is this compliance that drives unintended consequences.
These certifications cost a huge amount of money to gain and maintain – which plays right into the hands of the big global apparel brands since it is a barrier to entry for smaller players. It also means, sad as I am to say it, that they can wield their huge financial clout to get a tick of approval even if it isn’t justified.
Finally, because these certifications are hugely detailed, it reduces flexibility and even stops people from doing things that would be less environmentally impactful.
The certifications are like the apocryphal starter motor in a car – an unnecessary appendage that is only there because we’ve not yet worked out ways to fix the cause. At least, in the case of cars, we’ve found a fix. An electric vehicle has a battery and a motor – that is pretty much all that is needed to turn energy into motive force on an ongoing basis. Simple.
And there is an analogous fix in the apparel world – stop the fast fashion travesty and make stuff locally.
Fast fashion drives massive negative impacts because, as the name implies, it encourages huge consumption alongside an incredibly short garment lifespan.
Fast fashion is predicated on buying a piece that has a massive impact footprint and wearing it a few times before throwing it out.
Slow fashion, on the other hand, is the opposite. It’s about supplying garments that have lower negative impacts – both environmental and social – and designing them to last years and years. Better for people and the planet and, as an added bonus, better for your wallet.
Terrible for all those consultants helping people tick the boxes of their compliance certifications, but those folks don’t really add much to the world so … never mind.
Ben Kepes is a Canterbury-based entrepreneur and professional board member. He is the founder of clothing chain Cactus Outdoor. He’s a fan of simple solutions to problems.
