'Interesting' Update

Interesting? You tell me. Here's a clip of my presentation at the 2008 Interesting:NY conference in September. Unfortunately, you can't see my slides. Maybe someone out there can offer some video editing expertise and we can splice the slides in somehow? I don't know. Anyway - here I am...
Update: With the help of the esteemed Jeff Zemetis, my slides are now included in the video.

Consume®econnection Project at Interesting:NY from Scott Ballum on Vimeo.

The Elephant in the Blog

When I started this experiment in March, it was a side project, sort of a hobby almost. Something I did with my spare time on weekends and sneaking in emails and phone calls when I could while at work. I was aided by the fact that I was a in a senior position at the design studio where I worked, so my time was fairly flexible and they were extremely supportive and understanding. I've been accused by people who don't know me of being a rich kid with too much time on his hands, which couldn't have been further from the truth.

As I began to think so critically about where everything I might consume was coming from, I couldn't help but begin to think more critically about how all of my actions impacted to world around me. Where did my trash go? Where did my taxes and votes go? And what was it that I was producing as a designer, and how did that have an effect on my social and cultural environment? I had already shied away from advertising, and I had refused to do branding or design work with a strictly commercial impact, but even the work I was being asked to do, as benign as it may have been, was starting to feel inconsequential. Was it enough to not use my skills for evil? What about turning it around and only doing what I felt was good?

So the short story is that a month ago I left the design studio I once worked full time for and launched my own endeavor, determined to find work which I felt was making a positive social and cultural impact. I also assumed this would free up more of my time, or at least make it even more flexible, to pursue meetings and travel for the Consume®econnection Project.

I can't say it has made life any easier yet -- the economic downturn has severely limited the number of design jobs for non-profit organizations, and this project has proven far more costly than I expected. I've been thrilled by the interest it has garnered, but there's not exactly money in it, and all of the travel has added up. Nonetheless, I'm keeping at it as long as possible, and have made inroads at New Balance in Boston and reached out to Patagonia in recent weeks! The spirits and determination are still up, but I thought that since this is all about how this lifestyle is effecting me, I should disclose such a major turn!

Now back to work, at my local coffee shop of course.

Halfway There

As I near the mid-point to what is intended to be a one year experiment, I’ve found myself re-visiting what it is I’m trying to accomplish and what makes this exercise different than others I’ve been inspired by.

The Localism and Organic movements are really remarkable and I love what they do in support of local economies and entrepreneurs. I’ve found myself along similar tracks with these efforts, and love that it has some of the same effects, but I do need to remember that this is not necessarily my underlying goal. In my attempts to be conscious of the things I would typically buy, and then follow those production lines back, I’ve found myself needing to make substitutions and compromises just to survive. I would be very excited about getting in to a factory that manufactures parts for Apple computers, or Converse sneakers, or furniture for that matter, but international companies like these don’t seem to have the avenues for this type of inquiry. And so I’ve been tracking those that have the infrastructure set up to support it–mainly local and/or socially-sustainable companies whose physical locations and organizing ideologies make them accessible.

American Apparel in Los Angeles is the first international manufacturer of it’s size I’ve made connections with (Makers Mark, Seventh Generation and Toms of Maine have global distribution but on a smaller scale) and I’m hoping as momentum builds I’ll have opportunities to continue exploring these types of mass-produced commodities, just as I continue to meet ambitious local artisans.

Unexpected Encouragement

Despite the quiet here for the past few weeks, quite a bit has been happening offline. I've been writing more (see the Editorial section for recent articles) and making contact with some fantastic people involved in social design and community projects. But on top of the usual challenges brought on by this project (a few more cutoff shorts, lots of trips to the Food Coop) and arranging for future visits (I'll be in Los Angeles next week and will get the chance to drop in the American Apparel factory), it's the interests this has stirred up in myself and in others has been really exciting.

It's really been encouraging when people from all over write that my project is thought-provoking or something that they would love to do. The idea behind this is to show that it's possible to make informed consumer decisions, so the more folks thinking about it, the better. But I'm also finding it surprisingly moving when my friends and family call to tell me that they've been inspired to make a connection, or take a considered approach that they wouldn't have otherwise. Just this weekend, a friend from Boston who I don't see enough, called to tell me that he's been following my progress and thinking of ways to help in the clothing arena, but then he told me that he's decided to take something on for his forthcoming 30th year as well – some personal challenge or social cause. Imagine if everyone took a year to re-examine a part of their lives more closely!

Then yesterday was my dad's birthday, and he and my mom took the afternoon off to celebrate. She called me to share the exhilaration they felt when they spontaneously pulled off a side road near their home in south eastern Massachusetts at a pumpkin patch. They chatted with the white-haired farmer who couldn't have been more pleased to show them around, pluck ears of corn straight from the stalk for them, pick vegetables and tell them all about his garden. They could only understand about 75% of his rich Italian accent, but he was loving telling these strangers about his passion and his story, and they were going to enjoy dinner knowing the hands that planted and cared for everything on their plates.

I truly believe that craving the knowledge of who and where everything comes from is infectious, it's really exciting to see it spreading.

Looking for Tips on Clothing Connections

Even though the goal of this project was not to necessarily change my buying habits, but simply to make better (far better) informed purchases, a few months in I'm realizing how naive it was to think that making these connections was as as easy as wanting it. I've switched to almost exclusively locally grown produce and hardly any meat (because I cook for myself all the time now, and I basically just don't know how to cook meat). I buy all of my toiletries from the Coop, which means I have no need for corner bodegas and delis (with the exception of an occasional six-pack of Brooklyn Lager) or drug stores (with the exception of medicines, I'm not naive enough to think big pharma is going to welcome me into their factories and I can't wait a year for health care). And any new furniture or stuff for my apartment I build or reuse things I already have. Which I guess goes the same for clothing...

I started this project in early spring, when jeans and boots were fine everyday. It's now the apex of summer and I'm still wearing the boots. It's not okay. I've been chopping up old pants (including, yes, a pair of old jeans) to make a new crop of shorts for myself, but I haven't been so handy with "making" new shoes. And speaking of pants, between switching to a virtually vegetarian organic diet (and simultaneously taking up bicycling and swimming at the local Y) I've lost 15 pounds and none of my clothes fit me anymore.

I am looking for any tips or suggestions anyone might have for making connections within shoe/sneaker companies or clothing companies where I might buy myself a few new pairs of jeans (and maybe shorts!).

On Press

I've spent much of the last few weeks preparing for upcoming trips and events. As I have mentioned before, I've got a trip up through New England that I'm working out details for, and tomorrow I'll be at the Food Coop early early to meet the farmers and truckers who deliver their goods there.

What I haven't spent much time writing about, however, is how much energy I've suddenly found myself spending keeping track of, dealing with, and coordinating press. After a mention on GOOD Magazine's website a few weeks back, a storm of blog postings hit in a matter of days. I received phone calls from national television and newspaper outlets asking for details for possible stories. I was pilloried by arm-chair critics on a website known for its venom and sarcasm. (These are all on my Info page.) It was a roller coaster. Yes, I am thrilled and validated in seeing that what I'm doing is something people care about, and others think is as important as I do. But at the same time, I don't really just want to be a human-interest story on a couple rss-feeds that no one wants to talk to in six months or a year when the project really has legs and knows where it's going.

My biggest concern lies in how publicity is going to effect the project itself -- my ability to make a personal connection with a factory laborer or farmer. I haven't even been taking out my camera on most visits because the tone suddenly changes when someone feels they are being put on the spot. I can't imagine what a CBS Evening News camera crew would do to someone's nerves, never mind my own.

Do I think having coverage in the LA Times will help me get into bigger companies like Converse and Apple? Probably. Would I like to explore writing a book and think that this exposure could help that? Yes of course. But do I want to jeopardize the integrity of the project, or do I want to appear to prove the critics right that I am in this for some spotlight? Well, not so much.

It's a series of questions I never foresaw having to deal with, and something that everyone seems to have an opinion on. For disclosure, I'm forging a relationship with GOOD Magazine, which I feel is completely in line with my efforts. And I've been cooperating with LA Times, because, well, they're the LA Times. Who knows what opportunities will come out of an article there.

Things I'm learning along the way

It's a gorgeous sunny 75° day in Brooklyn and I'm working at a friends house. She's preparing her PhD dissertation papers for publication, and I'm, well, blogging and reading "Days of War, Nights of Love" by CrimethInc. Have to love hi-brow and low-brow mixing like this. We needed a snack/sun break, and I haven't met any shop owners in her neighborhood so I suggested biking the mile or so to Fort Greene to Urban Spring. We stopped in and chatted with Gordon, introduced him to my friend Rachel, ordered some sandwiches and iced coffee, and then went off to show her the neighborhood and the new Fort Greene Flea Market. It was a longer break than perhaps she wanted, and it involved getting out her bike and not really knowing what the options were going to be when we got there. But aside from the food being great and the iced coffee fresh, it was worth the effort for me to walk in somewhere that I knew the owner and the back story, where I was greeted by name and with an acknowledgment that I had been there before and would be there again.

I guess that's a big part of the answer to "Why am I doing this?" that I get so often. Being aware of where my food and purchases come from allows me to be further involved and engaged in my decision to buy them. I know who I am supporting, and what goals I am helping them to achieve. And it allows me to be part of something bigger than myself and my own little world. I didn't just grab a snack today, I was part of Gordon's plan to create a neighborhood community and promote sustainable living; I was part of Harold's attempt to run a coffee bean business that he loves; and perhaps (I'm not sure if it was Nicaraguan coffee I drank or not) I was part of Mausi's mission to provide positive working and living conditions for her farm workers and innovative solutions for self-sustaining coffee farming.

Before starting this project, it was easy for me to think (or not think at all) that the things I bought sort of came into existence when I bought them, for the sake of me buying them. Knowing the stories and personalities involved in their creation blows that away.

Updating the site

For those who are following by rss feed, I've added a new section relating to the project, The Register, and updated recent blog coverage in the News Roll.

Coming soon: Brownstone Beans brewer Harold Butler, and an early morning shift at the Food Coop to meet the delivery men and farmers.

Thanks for your support of this project!

Waking Up | Barriers, part 3

A third trend I see in the obstacles I've encountered is probably the greatest and widest spread, though it appears to be the simplest to solve. It is simply that of the habits of both supplier and consumer. It is apparent to me how rare an occasion it is when a customer asks in depth questions that the seller is caught off guard and thrown a little bit. Neither side is used to this level of interaction which makes it very easy to slip into typical practices and not follow though.

My most recent example of this, and I freely admit the blame falls on both sides, is when I initiated contact with "Harold the Coffee Man", founder of Brownstone Beans in Brooklyn. I heard of Harold when I walked by Urban Spring on DeKalb Ave in Fort Greene and noticed their chalk-board sign pushing "Locally Brewed Coffee - Roasted Just Down the Street!" Turns out, Harold is a local guy who, indeed, imports beans from Nicaragua and elsewhere and began roasting them right there in his brownstone apartment to distribute to a few coffee houses and businesses. I did some research and called him up, and to his credit, Harold called me back a few days later and enthusiastically chatted to me about his beginnings, his day job as a teacher, and his new facility in Greenpoint. He told me he had a shipment coming in a few days and would let me know so I could come by and check out his operation.

And I haven't heard from him. I left another message for him once, but haven't followed up again. He is clearly in his routine and busy with an end of a school year and his business, and I'm busy with my day job and making inquiries as often as possible to broaden my scope. It's so much easier to just go about our day-to-day, even as a local entrepreneur and someone dedicated to making connections, than to pursue it. If we can't even make the connection happen, then it should be no surprise that most of us don't even bother trying.

Industry Policy | Barriers, part 2

Next in this three-part post on Barriers is the more obvious, though still naively unexpected: the barriers put in place by the manufacturer.

About a year or so ago, I attended a Wesleyan University Alumni event with a friend (she's an alum, not me) and was introduced to the host -- Brooklyn Industries founder Lexy Funk. Hoping to use this connection, I asked my friend to contact the alumni association and try to get in touch with Lexy for me. In the meantime, I sent emails to the general info address and crossed my fingers. I was thrilled when I got an email back from Lexy, commending my project and offering to put me in touch with someone who could help me out with meeting some folks who manufacture tee-shirts right here in Brooklyn. Awesome. After a few back and forths with the woman she set me up with in consumer relations, she told me she would look into it and get back to me with the information I requested. I waited a week and wrote again. Nothing.

Then today I got a very brief email informing me that it is their policy "not to disclose their vendors", but that a particular shoulder bag (with a link to the website) was manufactured locally. And that was it. I've let the email sit out of frustration, but I intend to write back and ask if I can at least meet with her, and let her explain to me why this policy is in place. I have no desire to go in looking for bad working conditions or inspect the machinery, which is probably why this obstacle is in place, but I do want to see where the product comes from and who spends their days making it before I buy it.

Through the Grapevine | Barriers, part 1

I began this experiment with the very real desire to focus on something positive, making personal connections and breaking down distances between suppliers and the consumer, rather than to focus on the negative aspects of a consumption-based society. I was also somewhat naive in thinking that all it would take was some research and some eagerness to bridge those distances. It is still very early in the experiment, and I'm sure a number of tends will begin to emerge from the folks that I meet and the ones I don't. One that's beginning to be very clear is that there are some very real barriers in place, and that they are worth exploring as much as the connections are.

This revelation came while talking with Emmanuel Boyer, a member of a French wine-making family living here in New York. Emmanuel grew up on his family's vineyard in southern France, a vineyard called La Croix-Belle that the family has worked "forever". (The house on the label? That's the house he grew up in. His bedroom is the window on the top left.) As a child he picked grapes with the hired hands and, when the winery went machined, watched as the processes were slowly perfected. He and his brother were the first to leave the village and pursue other degrees - his in engineering, his brother's in veterinary medicine, but he is still deeply involved in every decision from what varieties of grapes to grow and blend to what the labels and packaging of new wines will look like. He is the company's representative to the United States, and will return to run the family business again in just a few years.

What shocked me, however, was that as intrinsically involved in the business as Emmanuel is, he doesn't even have a real sense of where his wines are sold in New York. He explained to me the built-in state-mandated separations between grower and consumer. Wineries are required to go through an importer, who in turn is required to use a local distributer, who then decides what restaurants and wine shops to market to. And only at that level is the consumer able to interact with the product. On the rare occasion, he is able to be involved with tastings set up by the distributor for their marketing teams, but rarely directly to the consumer. And when we called him (he is a close friend of a coworker), he was hard pressed to recommend a restaurant where he knew they would have his wine. We did find some, the Champs Des Lys and it was wonderful, and he did know that Astor wines carried at least one of his reds (which we found and bought several bottles of). But with these sort of frustrating barriers set up in front of the supplier, it is no wonder I'm facing challenges from this side.

Daily Decisions

I've been asked how much this project is affecting my every day life. Are there things I used to buy that now I don't? Is this easy or hard? Have I cheated yet?

The honest answer is that I'm finding it affects everything. Generally, I haven't sacrificed anything major (a cup of coffee while out and about, using hair product since I've run out) but it has changed how I buy things, and I've definitely started making substitutions. I make coffee at home everyday, with coffee from the Co-op. I buy lunch for the week from Scott at the Body & Soul booth at the farmer's market and keep it in the refrigerator at work. Last weekend I had friends over to my apartment for both brunch and a pot-luck dinner to avoid carelessly eating out while still maintaining a social life. I drink only beer from Brooklyn Brewery. It is constantly on my mind; add in dozens of emails and phone calls to make arrangements to visit manufacturing plants and local entrepreneurs, and it's almost a full time effort.

I've made an exception once: our friends in a band (shout out to Kind Monitor) threw a birthday party for my boyfriend at MonkeyTown in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I had no opportunity to eat before I arrived and knew we'd be out drinking afterwards, and it was 9pm on a Friday night–not a time to try to get in to meet the chef at a busy venue. So I allowed an exception (rather than trying to rationalize) and enjoyed the burger. With a Brooklyn Lager.

Giving Up Gift Giving?

I'm discovering that any real commercial purchase is going to be very thought out and planned ahead. Not only to decide where and what to buy, which was the whole point of this experiment, but also when. Most of the time I can sacrifice for a while until I can make the purchase the way that I want to, but what happens when someone's birthday can't wait until I've got my act together?

I've known this from the beginning, but I am extremely lucky to have a supportive, open minded, patient boyfriend as I launch into this experiment -- particularly when his birthday falls about a week and a half into it. Some creative thinking and lots of running around proved fairly successful, but perhaps only because Joe doesn't have typical desires for gifts anyway. Lucky for me, he didn't have his heart on an iPhone or Wii this year. He recently moved into a new apartment, so potted herb plants grown organically and pesticide-free on Phillips Farms in Millford, NJ, along with bright blue fabrics from the Garment District to make some pillow cases (raw goods that will be "manufactured" at home are going to be allowed this year -- I'm too hands on to give up building and crafting) fit the bill just fine.

I'm wondering if my family will be as pleased by my "inventive" gift giving this year?

The Issue With Food | Overcoming a complicated relationship with eating

This was never supposed to be about food. Or so I thought. It never occurred to me that 90% of what I purchase is food. Morning coffee, lunches, afternoon snacks, happy-hours, dinners out, groceries, weekend breakfasts, all of it comes from somewhere and I had no concept of how many times a week I opened my wallet to exchange cash for sustenance.

There's a complicated element to the issues raised by food in regards to this "new religion" I've been accused of having, in that there's a question as to what constitutes "production", and what constitutes a "commercial item". If I have to visit the farm where every item on my plate comes from, I will go hungry and malnourished very quickly: something I promised myself I wouldn't let happen. That doesn't mean I'm off the hook completely though, and can go willy-nilly through Wendy's and Key Foods (a comparatively sub par grocery chain here in NY). My new philosophy on food and how it fits into the experiment is this: all groceries are to come from the Park Slope Food Coop, where I am and know others who are part of the chain of bringing the goods to market, and I have the opportunity to discover where everything hails from and visit as many (over time) as I can -- or a Greenmarket environment where I'm purchasing directly from the farms. Dining out is a bit more sketchy as it's pretty clearly a purchase of manufactured goods and I have limited access to every kitchen in NYC. I can, however, investigate which chefs procure raw goods direct from local farmers and Greenmarkets. I can learn more about local independent restaurateurs, become a regular and get to know them, meeting with them and learning about their businesses and seeing where the food is prepared.

I came to this realization last night when the possibilities for dinner where to either make my boyfriend buy a box of pasta and cook it for me (he can't afford to buy me "gifts" for dinner whenever it gets sticky, and God only knows where that boxed pasta came from anyway) or to eat at a local restaurant. We opted for Bonita, a Mexican spot in Fort Green, where we learned that they buy all of their meat and produce from New York State farms, and seasonally offer specials such as King Fish, which is a local game fish. Bonita is one of three owned and operated together, and they routinely will "purchase a cow" at a regional farm together and split it amongst the restaurants, ensuring meat is fresh and as un-processed as possible. I'm sure there will be more discussions as to how food fits in to the project, but for the moment, this seems sustainable.

Habitual Spending

I've never really been a big shopper, and over the past few years I've become more and more conscious of what I buy and where I buy it from. However, walking through the city the past couple days I've been acutely aware of my urges to buy something! I've been bringing lunch in to work, and coffee some mornings (all left over from before the start of the project or from the Union Sq Greenmarket and Park Slope Coop) but when I go out of the office to take a break or walk home after work, I am magnetically drawn into the shops and coffee houses I used to frequent. I almost feel guilty for not patronizing them. It's really been quite an awakening to my old habits.

Going the Distance | Physical and emotional lengths

Challenges to complete immersion and strict adherence to its principles come in many forms.

I discovered last night that Seventh Generation, which I thought was a "local" company and was relying on for many household necessities, is actually located in Burlington, VT. Six hours away. A new strategy is to take a long weekend to drive up to their factories, then cut over to Tom's of Maine before coming back to New York. In the meantime, my own personal involvement in the distribution chain by joining the Park Slope Coop will need to suffice.

Most people I've discussed this project with are extremely supportive and I love the conversations it starts ("there are 14 Breweries in New York State"; "if you support Burt's Bees and then they get bought by Clorox, do you stop patronizing them?"). But starting this during my birthday week is frustrating friends when I suggest pot-luck: "Don’t get me wrong I respect what you are doing but it is totally crazy to try and do that with a group of people... you can do what you want, just hard to pull off when you have external factors in play like friends."

Counting down to the launch

A few days before beginning this year-long experiment, I'm excited by the prospects and nervous about the challenges. The plan at the outset is to spend the next year, my 30th as it happens, hyper conscious of every consumer purchase I make. For every transaction, there must be a personal connection with someone along the production chain. Whether its the designer, factory worker, chef, farmer, or maybe even trucker, being aware of the lives touched by every product I buy will certainly enlighten me, probably surprise me, possibly shame me, and absolutely provide me with some good stories.

The experiment/challenge will most likely direct me to consuming primarily local goods– grown, produced, created somewhere near Brooklyn, NY. I will not necessarily hold this as a rule, however. I hope to be able to make some connections across the country, and possibly internationally. I'll probably want to buy something that was made in China over the next year, won't I?

The project is sure to evolve, and I welcome comments, suggestions, and collaborators as it progresses.