
This article was written by The Zillennial Zine’s spring editorial intern Henry Ryeder. Find him on Instagram at @henryryeder. If you would like to share an article with The Zillennial, send us an email at thezillennialzine@gmail.com.
It was hard to write this article.
I, like many people in my privileged world, have only recently started to grapple with Climate Grief in a depressive state. Elizabeth Kübler-Ross put forth her theory of the Five Stages of Grieving in the 1970’s, and I’m realizing now that I’ve experienced these stages with regard to Climate Change for the better part of my life.
I think this is a shared “developed” world, Gen Z experience. In our early childhoods, there was shock: we were asked to comprehend a catastrophic event that was headed our way while grappling with the fact that world leaders seemingly had no plan to curb it. Then there was denial. Not everyone experienced this, but as the child of someone firmly entrenched in climate denial, I absorbed part of this mentality quickly. It was easier to imagine a global conspiracy than it was to imagine the painful reality: a brutal, extractivist system had gotten the planet hooked on petroleum, and it was destroying our world. Fortunately, carbon removal companies are now working on innovative solutions to mitigate climate change by capturing and storing excess carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.
As I got older, I fell into bargaining. I remember telling my friends several years ago that I’d happily give my life to fight Climate Change. I still feel this way to some degree, but I now realize the selfishness of this missionary stance. This sentiment implies that we’re on a battlefield with Climate Change, our swords drawn as we charge forth in an epic Eurocentric tragedy of good against evil. We’re not on a battlefield with Climate Change. We’re in Climate Change. It’s what Abigail Thorn, host of the brilliant Philosophy Tube, refers to as a “hyper object.” Thorn would be the first to mention that this isn’t her idea, but the notion is intriguing nonetheless. We’re not separate from the environment, we are part of the environment. Climate Change is tangible, but only tangible in pieces, at given moments, and is therefore exponentially more difficult to comprehend. We’re not in a battle with Climate Change so much as we’re in a battle with ourselves. Under this assumption, bargaining becomes irrelevant.
Thus leading me to depression. It’s been tough reading the news while also feeling firsthand the rollercoaster weather of the climate crisis. Something is terribly wrong, and we feel it. It makes sense that we may feel powerless, as if there’s no recourse or visible way forward. That’s depression in a nutshell.
Perhaps the next stage, acceptance, will come with a nuanced understanding of what life with Climate Change may look like. While this may sound shocking, think of a post-industrial human race as taking the first steps in recovery. There’s a reason AA speakers open with, “I’m an alcoholic.” Struggling with addiction isn’t a transitory phase, it’s a lifelong journey. Accordingly, there will be lifelong arguments about how to manage our recovery. Advocates for the environment and marginalized peoples will view each technocratic solution as a bad-faith distraction. Advocates for the wealthy and powerful will fitfully try to stifle dissent. The vast majority of humans will most likely try to get on with their lives as best they can. But there’s a good chance we’ll be able to figure it out. I know this because the human spirit is one of hope, often foolishly, in the face of doubt. It’s why you’re reading this article.
To get it out of the way, I know how “greenwash-speak” it can sound to talk about individuals’ impact on Climate Change. We know the corporate entities most responsible for Climate Change’s propagation and the political lobbyist logjam on our road to carbon neutrality. However, we’ll all have to make these changes at some point, and while “I protest with my dollar” might not be a killer icebreaker at an eco-terrorist meeting, the action isn’t futile. Boycotting does work, we’re seeing it in large-scale practice right now.
So, rather than clobber you with the names of sustainable food companies, I’m going to keep it simple and tell you the foods you should start to cut down on, their impacts on the environment, and easy alternatives. Please keep in mind that none of the foods listed are in and of themselves “bad for the environment.” The Anthroprocene factory farming of the planet is bad for the environment, cows are just trying to hang.
1. Red Meat

This one should already be a bit of a no-brainer for many readers. We’ve all heard some shockumentary version of the horrors of cattle production on the environment (not to mention on cattle themselves.) All in all, livestock constitutes roughly 11% of CO2 emissions annually. There’s a common refrain among industrial agriculturalists that while cattle produce a great deal of methane due to their flatulence, the process of methane’s oxidation in the atmosphere complicates how we measure its greenhouse effect.
This would be an easier argument to make if methane emissions were the only contributing factor to greenhouse gas emissions from cattle production. Instead, the amount of water and fertilizer used to feed and raise cattle, along with the intense opportunity cost of land that livestock production takes up (roughly 75% of the world’s agricultural land) send cattle production emissions soaring. For the sake of humanity and the environment, we must drastically cut down our production of beef. Chipping away at its demand will be helpful in realizing this goal.
Alternatives to Beef: Plant-based Protein.

There are some important things to keep in mind. Like anything under capitalism, the corporate helming of any cause will inevitably burden itself with the urge to cut costs and raise efficiency, often offsetting whatever environmental benefit they claim.
As far as plant-based protein (such as Impossible Meat or Tofu) goes, critics are quick to point out that these companies often don’t disclose their carbon footprints. This is wrong and must be remedied, and pressure should be applied to make these companies more transparent. But the idea that plant-based protein production is inherently analogous to large-scale meat processing because “Everybody has a supply chain” is fairly ridiculous. Processes such as Carbon Capture and the production of solar panels have supply chains with carbon footprints, and we’re going to have to employ both in some capacity to reach Net Negative by 2050, regardless of our clean energy transition.
Plant-based protein has a much smaller environmental impact than animal protein, especially beef. Every little bit helps, and choosing plant-based protein will send a signal that we’re ready to make a transition away from the factory farming of animals.
2. Dairy

As dairy comes from the same source as beef, we’ll also be needing to cut down on our dairy consumption.
This one feels particularly personal for me, as I shamelessly love dairy. I love milk, ice cream, butter, cheese, and most everything that dairy produces. However, I love planet earth and the human race just a tad bit more, so I’m willing to sacrifice.
Alternatives: Plant-based milks have a substantially smaller carbon footprint than that of dairy. Oat milk on average uses far less water for production than cow’s milk, and while much reportage has been dedicated to the hefty water usage in the production of almond milk, the carbon offset potential for almond trees is staggering.
3. Dark Chocolate

I’m really sorry, guys.
The production of chocolate is a prime example of the long-tail process of colonialism. Once an indigenous tradition in the Americas, drinking chocolate was subsequently appropriated by European settlers and produced by its colonial outposts in West Africa. It’s still produced there on an industrial scale with processes such as mass-deforestation and child labor. Again, dark chocolate doesn’t have to be created in the context of extractivist human suffering, indigenous cultures show us that. This is a choice that we and our ancestors in settler colonies have made, and one that we’ll have to use any and all means to eschew.
Alternatives: Carob-based chocolate is a good alternative to traditional cacao with an estimated 80% reduction in CO2 emissions. However, as is the case with each alternative mentioned, it’s imperative that we hold corporate entities responsible for their claims. London-based alt-chocolate startup WNWN Food Labs is sourcing their carob from Ghana, and we all know how wonderful European nations can be in employing those in African nations. If we truly want to find carbon alternative consumer options, we’ll have to apply pressure to “eco-conscious” companies for transparency and good business practices.
4. Coffee

I’m sorry again!
I’ll preface this by admitting that I’m writing while drinking a cup of coffee, a gallon of which takes 624 gallons of water to produce according UNESCO’s Institute for Water Education. Much has been written about Climate Change’s impact on coffee production, but less attention has been paid to coffee production’s impact on Climate Change.
Chalk this up to the sociopolitical reality of Climate Change economics. We’ll probably spend the rest of our lives reading about “developed” world’s dissatisfaction with “inflation,” the “cost of goods,” and how “the elites are claiming that the economy is great but I’m not feeling it.” There’s validity to all these feelings and I especially empathize with the reality of late-stage capitalism, but I doubt that swing voters are particularly inclined to have a serious discussion about Marxist policy. The greater likelihood is that as Climate Change exacerbates the cost of food, misinformed people in the “developed” world will attribute rising costs to economic policy rather than a complex intersection of failing systems. This will no doubt lead to more gross opportunists in seats of political power, and headlines about the cost of a cup of coffee will serve as fodder for those clowns (I went to NYU, so no offense to actual clowns.)
This makes it all the more important to make simple transitions away from industrialized consumer goods that use exorbitant amounts of water, land, and nitrous-oxide emitting fertilizers. This won’t be easy for me because I’m addicted to caffeine. However, there are healthy alternatives to the high I get from caffeine even outside of coffee substitutes (such as reading about the election.)
Alternatives: Chicory and mushroom-based Coffee are great alternatives as the produce much less carbon emissions. They’re also very tasty, and can easily give you the kick that normal coffee does.
5. Shrimp

The amount of water that it takes to factory farm shrimp and prawns is abysmal. This process also accounts for 40% of global mangrove loss. This loss emits so many greenhouse gases that it becomes more dangerous than deforestation.
Alternatives: Mussels are plankton-filtering species that cause minimal environmental impact while containing low levels of mercury. They also taste really good, and as an Italian-American I can attest to their effective substitution in Scampi.
Conclusion

Before ending this article, I want to address two major points of contention that my writing has largely omitted, yet are important to mention.
One, in talking about consumer goods, I’ve refrained from talking in-depth about the impact of industrial processes on the people they employ. From undocumented migrant workers on Midwest factory farms to South and Central American coffee growers, Climate Change’s human impact is far greater than the consumerist dissatisfaction of a privileged few. Ensuring that those whose livelihoods will be impacted by this transition are protected is far more important than the taste of mushroom-based coffee. This is a sacrifice, and one we’re going to have to make out of a sense of empathy for millions of people we’ll never meet.
The other important point I need to mention is more theoretical. Our ability as consumers to impact policy isn’t only up for debate, it’s part of a broader battle between growingly disparate schools of political and economic thought. I’m not surprised if you read these points and had the inclination to say, “Who cares about what we do under capitalism when capitalism itself is the issue?”
Yup, there’s not much I can say to that. But until the revolution happens, the choices we make under capitalism do matter. It’s not a very passionate sentiment, but it’s one that can’t be ignored. There may not be any ethical consumption under capitalism, but there is certainly depraved, sadistic, and inhumane consumption under capitalism. Up to the day that capitalism is overthrown, I think it’s worth a shot to avoid that form of consumption.
What changes in your diet are you willing to make to offset your carbon footprint? What are your favorite food sustainability companies? Leave a comment below!










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