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一個用獨特的課稅方式，與地球建立良性關係的人。
Lisa Jones撰稿10.19.00
Dev Carey是一位生態學博士、長得高大英俊，舞技高超，能辨認多種植物，能說服緊張的青少年從懸崖上用繩索垂降。他會的事情很多，但有一件事他做不來，任何情況之下，他總是沒有辦法拋開規範意識，尤其是關於環境的道德方面。
這像是某種詛咒，如同希臘神話中的卡珊德拉一樣（譯註：預言雖準，因被詛咒而無人信），他目不轉睛地瞪著牆上的文字，而我們卻茫然不覺，並且越來越糟。啊！這正是他的苦惱。
幾年前，我和他曾在一起一段時間。有一天我們去泛舟，一個下午玩得很愉快，開車回家時，他看著油表，然後目光下垂，肩膀僵硬，望著路旁一排排的公寓大廈，他閉上眼睛。
本來愉快的心情，不久就一掃而光，我有作錯事的感覺，而他也覺得非常糟糕，因為他讓我、及其他朋友感到內咎。
「我覺得被卡住了」，他說：「就好像是在一場聚會裡，全場只有我聽見小孩哭救的聲音，如果說出來，大家一定都會氣我掃興，我只好站在原地，什麼事也不能做。因此，我需要一個既能使我心安、又不會影響別人的對策。」
家庭價值
Dev家庭的道德觀念很強，先祖多人是長老會牧師。有一次，他和父親前往奧勒岡州的 Klamath河泛舟，他們從河口朝著源頭逆流而上，划了一個月，沒錯，他們成功了。
也許是Dev那有點過於聰明的頭腦，使得他那根深蒂固的長老教會精神也跟著擴張。在他從幼稚園到博士的求學過程中，得過許多的榮譽、獎狀、獎學金，這充分說明了他一直都是很用功的。
妙的是、崇高的道德與心智能力既是Dev受苦的根源，卻同時也是減輕痛苦的藥方。他徹底地把事情想清楚，他很難去做一件錯誤的事情，不過他已經想出許多方法，在做正確的事情的同時，不會讓週遭的人覺得不是想自殺、就是想殺他。
汽車所造成的環境衝擊令他憂心，因此他沒有車子，他騎自行車或是搭別人、或他太太Merrylea的便車，他太太開一輛改裝過的Volvo，車身畫得像一個Ben & Jerry’s（譯註：冰淇淋公司）的大紙箱。
他也對現代建材及其濫用感到痛苦，因此他和Merrylea正在建造一座房子，就完全使用回收材料。我說的可不是那種目錄時髦、價格驚人、含有20%的回收廢棄物所製成、尚未油漆的牆壁，我說的可是用舊冰箱粉刷而成的護牆，跳蚤市場買的窗戶，所用的上樑則來自廢棄倉庫。
數年前，他決定三餐只吃當地的有機食物，至於肉類，他偏好本地特產的美味－被車撞死的動物。有一次，他和Merrylea開著Volvo，後面載著一隻垂死的鹿去參加需自備餐點的宴會，在飯前屠宰這頭鹿，這點顯示了宴會主人的好客。
Dev絕對是我所見過最節儉的人，就算是在他那十分鄉下、種植蔬菜、「蓋亞」崇拜、以物易物的家鄉－科羅拉多州的Paonia，他也是節儉的最佳典範。
但他已經被他自己的標準搞得筋疲力盡了，他說：「這麼辛苦的活在這個世界上，對我自己、對別人，我都感到厭煩。」
甘藍菜聲明
於是，今年夏天，在思考過種植於墨西哥甘藍菜的種種之後--像是過度噴灑農藥、低薪的採收工人、及在北美地區來回運送的冷凍卡車等問題--他有了解決之道，他決定自己對自己的消費課稅。本地種植的素食品免稅，但像早餐吃的乳酪捲(burrito)是用本地的蛋、加上外地來的蕃茄、乳酪、洋蔥及tortilla（譯註：玉米粉烙的餅）等而成，則需要捐些錢給一個環境組織。這全都在他最近寫的「甘藍菜聲明」中，茲摘錄如下：
每從口袋裡掏出一塊錢來消費的時候，我會依照以下兩個評斷標準來歸類：那就是我要買的這個東西，它的環境倫理是什麼？以及它被運送的路途有多遠？來自墨西哥的甘藍菜，並非本地產的，而我們對它也沒有付出什麼，所以它的評分是「－／－」。土產的有機甘藍則是「＋／＋」，來自於加州的有機甘藍，則為「＋／－」。同樣道理，Ben & Jerry的分數是「＋／－」，Reebok的鞋子得到「－／－」，本地按摩業所得的評分是「＋／＋」。當然，這些事情並不是這麼單純，土產的有機甘藍可能是用塑膠袋包裝，而本地的餐廳可能是向Sam’s Club（譯註：連鎖賣場）購買食品，不過我只能盡力而為，而到最後，我估計應該會達到平衡。每花一塊「－／－」的錢，我就再捐出一塊錢給值得的非營利機構，若是「＋／－」，就捐出五角錢，若是「＋／＋」，就不用再捐。
連我的所得，也是用同樣方法來課稅，不過稅率是一半。舉例來說，在我賣Coors啤酒的當中，每賺兩塊錢、就捐一塊錢給非營利機構；在本地教書的所得，則全部給我自己；若是在本地Deli工作，賣一些外地產的乳酪及肉類，但也賣本地種的青菜(照我的聲明算起來是屬於＋／－)，則每賺兩塊錢、就要捐出五角錢。
當然，這全都只是個大概，誰知道在自然保護上捐一塊錢，是不是就能彌補在Nike上花的一塊錢，不過感覺上很有可能，如果每個人都開始遵循這套系統，那世界將會徹底的改變。
最令人興奮的是、這個系統是可行的，目前我的收支可以達到平衡，甚至還可以存錢呢。我已經覺得輕鬆多了，沒有必要因求好心切，就為了不環保的消費而內咎。買就買，萬一我把錢花光了，就花光算了，沒有關係！我憑直覺去尋找最好的處理方式，像其他的消費者一樣，錢要花得有意義。現在，那些土產的甘藍菜，就顯得有意義了，以此類推，Wal-Mart（譯註：大賣場）的榔頭，也具有相同的意義。我喜歡這套系統的淺顯易懂，而且任何人隨時都可以開始依循這套方法。它讓我默默地進行，沒有道德上的掙扎，我喜歡。
從捐款的過程中，我也得到許多樂趣，我發現對非營利機構的捐款可以用來抵稅，明年四月十五時（譯註：美國的納稅季節），我將不需繳稅。可以控制怎麼去花用自己的錢，這實在令人開心。
買墨西哥甘藍菜時，我仍然會想著關於它的種種，我見到遭過度使用的田地，看到當地人因農藥而生病。不同的是，現在我比較容易感受到謝意而不是內咎，並且知道，我的生活，是解決方法中的一部份，是該愉快地來些涼拌甘藍菜的時候了。
全文及圖示詳見: http://www.gristmagazine.com/grist/limb/limb
101900.stm
Lisa Jones是佛特蒙州Burlington Free Press的記者，她也曾為國家公共電台(National Public Radio)、紐約時報雜誌(New York Times Magazine)及High Country News寫過一些文章。
Dev Carey，花的孩子。攝影：Lisa Jones
Dev及Merrylea。攝影：Lisa Jones
版權歸屬 Grist Magazine 環境信託基金會 (陳均輝 譯，蘇崧崚 審校)
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One man taxes his way to a healthy relationship with the earth
by Lisa Jones
10.19.00
Dev Carey is a tall, handsome man with a Ph.D. in ecology. He can swing dance like a pro, identify every plant in the meadow outside his house, and talk nervous youths into rappelling off cliffs. He can do many things, but one thing he can't do is separate himself from the morality of any given situation. Especially the environmental morality of any given situation.
This is something of a curse. Like Cassandra in Greek mythology, he stares unblinking at the writing on the wall, while the rest of us chatter and sigh and get into handbaskets clearly marked "Hell." And oh, he suffers.
A few years ago, he and I dated for awhile. We'd be driving home after a perfectly nice afternoon of kayaking. He'd look at the gas gauge and then downward, his shoulders stiffening. He'd look out at the condos being built by the highway and close his eyes.
After a while, this ceased to be much fun. I felt guilty. He felt terrible that he was making me -- and other friends -- feel guilty.
"I felt trapped," he says, "like I was at a party and was the only one hearing a child crying out for help, but that if I pointed it out, all those partying people would get mad at me for being a downer. So I just stood there, paralyzed. I needed a way to make my own peace without needing others to do so."
Family Values
Moral fortitude runs in Dev's family. He is descended from a long line of Presbyterian ministers. He and his father once took a kayaking trip on the Klamath River in Oregon that started at the mouth of the river and proceeded toward its headwaters. They paddled for a month. Upstream. Yes, they did.
Dev's ingrained Presbyterian drive is amplified by a brain that functions perhaps a little too well. His academic career, from kindergarten through his Ph.D, was marked by honors, grants, scholarships, downright pleas that he keep hitting the books.
But the miracle about Dev is that while these elevated moral and mental capacities are what cause his suffering, they are also what can alleviate it. He thinks things through. He has trouble doing the wrong thing, but he has figured out ways of doing the right thing that don't make his companions want to kill themselves, or him.
He is pained by the consequences of cars, so he doesn't own one. He bikes or hitchhikes instead, or hops a ride with his wife, Merrylea, who drives a rehabbed Volvo painted to resemble a huge carton of Ben & Jerry's.
He is also pained by modern construction material and excess, so he and Merrylea are building a house out of entirely recycled materials. I'm not talking 20 percent post-consumer-waste drywall from a groovy-looking catalog with jaw-dropping prices. I'm talking retaining walls made of old refrigerators and stucco. I'm talking windows from garage sales and beams that once held up derelict barns.
A few years ago, he decided to aim for a diet of only local, organic food. When it came to meat, he favored the ultimate in local cuisine -- roadkill. He and Merrylea once arrived at a potluck with a dying deer in the back of their Volvo. It is a testament to the spirit of their hosts that the whole party went and butchered the deer before dinner.
Dev is absolutely the least consumptive person I know. Even among the earthy, vegetable-growing, Gaia-worshipping, bartering folk of his hometown of Paonia, Colo., he is a paragon of conservation.
But he became exhausted by his own standards. "I was tired of being hard on the world, and myself, and other people," he said.
The Cabbage Manifesto
Then, this summer -- after thinking good and hard about cabbage that is grown in Mexico, heavily doused with pesticides, picked by underpaid workers, and driven in refrigerated trucks all around North America -- he hit upon a solution. He decided to tax himself on what he consumes. A locally grown vegetarian meal requires no taxation. But a breakfast burrito -- made with local eggs, but imported tomatoes, cheese, onions, and tortilla -- will require a couple dollars to be donated to an environmental organization. It's all in his recently penned "Cabbage Manifesto," excerpted here:
Every time a dollar leaves my pocket, I classify it by two criteria: what is the environmental ethic of what I purchased and how far did it have to travel. The cabbage from Mexico is nonlocal and non-responsible; it scores a minus/minus. The local, organic cabbage gets a plus/plus, while an organic cabbage from California gets a plus/minus. In the same way, Ben & Jerry's gets a plus/minus, Reebok shoes get a minus/minus. A massage from a local gets a plus/plus. Of course, there are complications to all this. That local, organic cabbage might come in a plastic sack. That local restaurant buys food at Sam's Club. But I just take my best guess. In the end, I figure, it will all average out. For every minus/minus dollar spent, I contribute another dollar to a worthy nonprofit. For every plus/minus, I contribute 50 cents. For a plus/plus, I pay no taxes.
I also tax my earnings by the same criteria, although at half the rate. For every two dollars I earn selling Coors Beer, for example, I will contribute one to a nonprofit. Two dollars for my local teaching efforts I keep to myself. If I work for the locally owned deli that sells some nonlocal cheese and meat but local greens (a plus/minus overall in my book), I contribute 50 cents of that two dollars.
It's all guesswork, of course. Who knows if a dollar to the Nature Conservancy will make up for a dollar to Nike. But it feels like it's possible. If everyone were to start this system, the world would change drastically.
The most exciting thing is that the system is working. I am balancing my budget, even saving. Already I feel lighter. There is no need to torture myself with guilt after each bad purchase in an effort to find the courage to do better on the next one. I just buy, and if I run out of money, I run out. I can deal with that. I follow my inclinations and search for the best deal, the most bang for the buck like any other consumer. Those local, organic cabbages now make sense, and so, sometimes, does a hammer from Wal-Mart. I like that this tax system is easy to explain to other people, and that anybody could begin the method any time. I like the fact that I can just do it quietly without moralizing.
I am also having fun contributing to worthy causes. I have realized that with all these donations to nonprofits and the subsequent write-offs, I will owe no taxes come April 15. It's an uplifting thought. I have control over how my money is used.
When I buy cabbage from Mexico, I still think about it. I see the images of overworked fields and locals made sick by pesticides. The difference is that it's easier now to feel thanks instead of guilt, and I know my life is part of the solution. It's time to delight in some coleslaw.
Lisa Jones is a reporter for the Burlington Free Press in Vermont. She has written for National Public Radio, the New York Times Magazine, and High Country News.
Dev Carey, flower child.
Photo: Lisa Jones.
Dev and Merrylea.
Photo: Lisa Jones. |
