Last Updated on October 6, 2013
Part of the attraction of green greed as a solution to all our woes is that for privileged first world consumer societies it appears painless, fostering the illusion that we can still live in five thousand square foot mansions and drive hybrid SUVs and take exotic cruise ship vacations, as long as we use biofuel. It’s magical thinking, of course, but to an infantile audience, it’s very appealing.
Green greed as a system of deception, however, is in public relations terms logical, no matter how illogical its precepts. Given the political illiteracy of first world audiences, hijacking their environmental sentiments makes sense; until enough of the first world citizenry awakens from their consumer coma, PR will remain their reality.
Inducing consciousness, unfortunately, is not as simple as holding rallies, protests or other public events; while they can begin to stir an awareness in some individuals, wakening large numbers of citizens to the limited utility of orchestrated consumer campaigns is not where I’d place my hopes. A few fully conscious, organized and active groups of individuals are more likely to have a lasting impact.
All this is relative, of course, and maybe the global financial crisis will expedite that consciousness raising, but old habits of looking to patrons in the form of corporate bosses and their philanthropic associates die hard. With limited resources and time, we have to ask where our energy is best spent.
When faced with such questions, I have always found it helpful to refer to some simple lessons learned by environmental and human rights organizers over the last half century: practice democracy, oppose fraud, and help those who fight back. Linking green greed to its roots in Free-Market environmentalism — a PR development of the Reagan era — might help to illuminate the hoax.
Across the world right now, Indigenous peoples are facing a renewed assault on their lands, rights, and ways of life.
From extractive industries pushing deeper into ancestral territories, to governments rolling back hard-won protections,
the threat is global—and it is growing.
What makes this moment especially dangerous is how little attention it receives.
Stories like this are disappearing in real time. Mainstream media
barely covers it and the coverage is fragmented. The public is left without the context
needed to understand what is truly at stake.
That is exactly why IC Magazine exists..
For more than 20 years, IC has reported on Indigenous struggles worldwide — consistently, independently, and without compromise.
We don’t follow news cycles; we trace patterns. We don’t sensationalize; we provide context.
And when the world looks away, we stay focused.
But this work is increasingly difficult to sustain.
We refuse to lock our reporting behind a paywall. We don’t sell access through subscriptions.
And we don’t answer to advertisers. IC Magazine survives solely because readers like you choose to
support independent Indigenous journalism.
Please donate today if you can. Every contribution helps us to continue this crucial work.
Thank you,
John Ahni Schertow
Founder and Editor in Chief
