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Can’t do carbon neutral? Try Slightly Less Unsustainable – Really, Promise

‘Sustainability’ was always going to be a tall ask. But how about ‘Slightly Less Unsustainable – Really, Promise’?

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Who among us does not have at least 26 bags-for-life? Photo: Shutterstock

Published: 10:15am, 1 May 2025Updated: 11:22am, 2 May 2025

In its infinite wisdom, PostMag tapped me to write something about sustainability. (Points thumb at own chest … “Wait, what … Me?”) So, ladies and gentlemen, here’s the world’s first sustainable, eco-friendly, green, carbon neutral and, of course, plant-based column.

First of all, any use of the descriptor “sustainable” is preposterous and should be punishable by the forced use of ecological toilet paper. I think “sustainable” should be replaced in almost all cases by “Slightly Less Unsustainable – Really, Promise”, (henceforth SLURP™).

Marine pollution manager for WWF June Wong, collecting rubbish from a beach near WWF Island House in Tai Po, Hong Kong, in September 2021. Photo: Jonathan Wong

A caveat: to provide insights into sustainability, I’m about as qualified as a vegan selecting medium rare: I’m a designer. That’s a bit like asking a fracker to share his deep knowledge of forestry and the nesting habits of the double-crested dippity bird. Yet here we are.

No kidding – all day, every day, I sit around thinking up and designing stuff that nobody needs. Yet another chair? OK! Another fancy restaurant? You betcha!

As an irredeemable design-sinner, the best I can do to assuage my guilt is to design things I hope are desirable, durable and consume fewer resources to make, then pray that they will be appreciated and taken care of long enough to be fought over by somebody’s grandchildren. In my book, designing things that stay out of a landfill is about as close to SLURP™ as any designer will ever get.

In Hong Kong, sustainability efforts only go so far. Photo: Getty Images

Of course, like most people I am SLURP™ when it’s easy: I take public transport unless I don’t feel like it, in which case I take a cab. I choose expensively ecological detergent for my plates and my clothes, and toothpaste squoze from happy plants. I usually remember to bring my own trendy cotton tote bag to the supermarket (I have eco-accumulated 26 of them to choose from, after all). But then I fill it with jet-fresh, Japanese fruit double-wrapped in padded plastic and stickered with happy cartoon characters; Kenyan green beans; polystyrene-plated and shrink-wrapped chunks of chilled meat hewn from once happily ozone-gassing Brazilian cows; and fancy cans of tomatoes flown in from San Marzano. Yeah, I know.