We always buy a real Christmas tree. Why? It smells better, it looks better, it feels better. We love everything about it, from the Clark Griswald moment (see video) to the cleaning up of the pine needles into the following September. But until now, we hadn’t given much thought to the environmental side of the ritual. Are real trees bad for the environment? It does involve cutting down trees, after all. Isn’t that deforestation? No! I refuse to give up my sacred Balsam spruce for anything, least of all for a fake plastic Balsam spruce.
So what is the environmental impact of a real tree vs a fake one?
Well, it turns out that fake plastic trees are as nasty as the fake plastic Christmases they represent. They are made from PVC and metal, and will therefore still be hanging around the planet a zillion years from now along with a few million Ken and Dolly LPs, and probably some pieces of Dolly herself. Many fake trees also contain carcinogens.
Real trees, on the other hand, are biodegradable, and they do at least produce a bit of oxygen for their short few years on earth. Enough to outweigh the energy we consume farming them and taking them from Loblaws to the dump via a short visit to my grotto? I doubt it, but it still ain’t plastic.
“But”, you say. “I bought my tree at Sears in 1986. I use the same one every year. It has had much less impact on the environment than the 23 real trees you’ve bought in that time.” But for every one person who tells you that, there must be a billion who buy an upgrade at Walmart every three years, sending the old model to the pacific trash gyre via Value Village. Come on – buying a plastic tree was only ever about the needles (and the pretty synthetic colours – ed.note).
So am I ok to go and pick out a freshly cut tree with my daughter tonight, my holiday traditions intact, or is there an even greener way to go?
I guess it depends how serious you really are. I mean, if you are the Environment, the Grinch and Scrooge had it about right: it’s probably not a bad idea to cancel Christmas altogether, because for the Environment, Christmas is like … Christmas at the in-laws.
But is there a greener version without cancelling Christmas? Apparently, yes: a real tree that hasn’t been killed. In other words, to go to a garden centre and buy a real tree with roots. It’s not really much different to owning a fake plastic tree. In the off-season, you keep it in the back yard instead of the basement, then once a year, you dig it up and bring it in for a week, much like digging the plastic one out of your basement. The only difference is, this one reverses global warming.
Now how do I get a rooted tree back from the garden centre on my bike?
Gettin’ all sappy about Christmas trees
No car: how it happens
I’m a product of car culture. I like to drive, have a good record, and spent 5 years with a company that provided me with a vehicle, insurance, and paid all the fuel costs. Aside from the highway miles I’d log as a travelling sales rep, I really maximized the situation with road trips all over Western Canada. Growing up in cities like Saskatoon and Calgary prepared me to drive long distances, stereo cranked… It took a long time to get anywhere, and so I drove. I met my husband James during an ESL escapade in Taiwan, and we drove that island on 125cc scooters. We got to know each other beneath fiberglass helmets, and lamented the loss of our bikes when we returned to Canada to have a baby and reconnect with the rat race. James, like many of his genY British counterparts, never felt that uniquely North American must get driver’s licence pressure, and succumbed to road reality after a few months in Edmonton. Drive, or be stranded! Calgary was even worse, and I can recall many, many hours spent stuck on Deerfoot Trail. Moving a foot every 5 minutes…wasting my life.
We moved to Toronto in August 2007. A new company car helped us navigate our new neighbourhood, the 401, the DVP, and our work and play routes. We settled in the Riverdale/Danforth area, with access to a great school for Scarlet (who is now 6), unlimited local amenities, and a walkable/bikeable/pedestrian vibe. And a subway station located a mere 100 metres away. Our spare car sat, unused and unloved, in our parking spot. Unused, unloved, and un-maintained. Junk, in other words. Useless.
I decided to leave my generous, car-providing employer at the end of January, and took up a new position downtown in the Yonge-Bloor vicinity. I knew I’d be taking the subway to work, since the traffic snarls and gridlock endured during the job interview process ruled out the idea of driving to work. James had been “tubing it” for ages, and always managed to get through the Metro crossword or a chapter of his latest read. Or a much needed snooze. I was looking forward to enjoying the same benefits, but I’d also put plans in motion to lease a new car. I couldn’t imagine life without a car for convenience…for weekend road trips, hospital emergency visits (thankfully not frequent), grocery shopping trips over $400, retail therapy jaunts to faraway mega malls, airport pickup, stereo blasting…. After years of complete free, I was looking at a $500/month expense to run a sweet little Volkswagon Rabbit, and I was prepared to pay for it. Never mind that it would sit there, Monday to Friday, beside the other unloved, unused (and unrunning) vehicle. I just had to have it.
And then suddenly, we didn’t. We bailed on the lease (sorry Jillian), and bailed on the whole plan. We thought about “car-free”, and it kinda made sense. Scarlet started walking to school, and going to swimming lessons on the bus. We started shopping locally, walked to the skating rink, and somehow made it through the pea-soup winter, which seemed to last forever. I learned to navigate the TTC and understand the structure of the city a little better. I learned that the 24 hour streetcar allowed us a guilt-free designated driver (and a highly entertaining, sociologically enlightening ride home). Scarlet gradually stopped whinging about not having a car, and picked up some enviro-lingo at the same time. Our finest brainwashing techniques – taking hold.
Meanwhile, the unloved and used and unrunning remnant from our life out west sat gathering dust (and probably housing several small neighbourhood species). Vines and grass grew around it, and the mechanics behind us gradually lessened their offer to buy it for parts. $500, then $400…. Children started laughing at it, vandals dressed it in embarrassing 70′s clothes…Ok, I made up that last part, but the picture remains. What would happen next would take us to the next level in car-free commitment. An act of nature, or, more realistically, negligent neighbours.
