Ethics girl: Pennie Taylor
LIKE many people these days, I am growing increasingly alarmed about the environmental damage being caused by the developed world's out-of-control consumerism. I try to minimise my personal impact by being as "green" as possible, buying mainly organic food and recycling as much as possible. But Christmas has me stumped. My kids have grown used to putting up with the knock-on effects of my conscientiousness, which means no more mass-produced burgers or far-flung foreign holidays, but I think they might draw the line at foregoing some gifts in favour of the less well-off. When I suggested that instead of the ghastly plastic Transformer Optimus Prime Voice Changer he wants from Santa, my six-year-old son should donate a goat to Africa, I could see that he was close to tears. And my 12-year-old daughter says - jokingly, I hope - that if she doesn't get the presents she has asked for (electric hair straighteners and a flat-screen TV) she will run away, as she'll know she's no longer loved at home. I know they do care about the impact of climate change, but I also know that they will be desperately disappointed if I substitute even a small number of their preferred options with more responsible offerings. I really don't want to cause them grief, but I think it's important they understand that we all need to make sacrifices if we're to have any hope of countering it. Should I press ahead with my low-impact plans and live with the consequences, or give in to my family's demands?
There must be many a child (and lots of adults, too) dreading the prospect of a pile of vouchers under the Christmas tree, each one proclaiming that their hotly-anticipated presents have been transformed into donkeys for the Third World. Indeed, if I were to unwrap a thank-you card for my generous donation of a Vietnamese toilet instead of what I hope for, I too would throw a hissy fit and stomp out. So lighten up, lady. There are plenty of ways you can salve your tortured conscience without ruining the now-traditional season of obscene excess.
It is one thing living responsibly for most of the year in response to climate change, but quite another to take all the fun out of the festive season for your children. Like it or not, to them Christmas is about over-indulgence and the satisfaction of base desires. For once, shrinking ice-caps can take a back seat.
Why not suggest that instead of giving up the tacky masks and the beauty aids, your children allocate their aunties' tenners and any other cash they may receive to a domestic aid fund? Then, after the Voice Changer has fallen apart and the straighteners sat upon, they can do the right thing by starving orphans far from home.
Off-setting the impact of Christmas is a difficult business. It transpires, for instance, that all those donated goats are eating so much that deserts are expanding, and the cows that so many gave to underprivileged corners of the world last year are actually causing water shortages. So, unless you are ultra-careful, your efforts could end up making things even worse than they already are.
Instead of imposing your ethics on your young ones, you could always inflict them on those you like less. Ex-husbands, for instance, might appreciate the donation of prize bull semen to an under-privileged farmer rather than another pair of socks; and you could send an annoying friend on a gruelling Himalayan charity trek, if you have £199 to spare.
In a bid to close the ozone hole that you fear your children's Christmas will cause, you could make sure that every other aspect of the celebration is as environmentally-friendly as it can be: stock up on solar tree lights, pay through the nose for a free-range turkey, and stuff their stockings with Fair Trade treats. Then tell everyone you know that you personally do not want any presents, and see how it feels when they honour your wishes. Next year, you might think again.
