From New Year’s resolutions to climate action
Hey there,
Mid-January is a very specific vibe.
The champagne is flat. The new water bottle is already lost.
The gym is still busy, but everyone looks like they’re doing court-ordered community service.
Meanwhile, you’re white-knuckling your resolution because a podcast said good habits finally stick after 21 days.
Welcome to Week 19, where biology meets reality and neither one cares about your vision board.
The Willpower Myth (Sponsored by Shame)
You’ve been told willpower is a personality trait. Like height. Or the ability to parallel park.
But willpower isn’t constant. It drains. And when you’re depleted, you’re not “making a choice.” You’re standing in the freezer aisle with a pint of Cookies & Cream when what you came for was baby kale.
How did you end up there?
Every decision burns fuel. Glucose. Oxygen. The stuff keeping you vertical.
And it’s not as simple as recharging with a sleeve of Oreos. Your brain has a budget.
By mid-afternoon, you’ve already made hundreds of choices.
Did that email warrant an exclamation point? Can I pull off this outfit? Should I pretend I didn’t see my chatty neighbor wave?
As that fuel runs low, your self-control plummets. Willpower was never meant to last all day. I designed it for short bursts…outrunning predators, not temptation. But seriously, why are there 100 types of Oreos?
With decision fatigue, judges give harsher sentences. Doctors make worse calls. Parents let their kids have ice cream for dinner and call it “calcium.”
We default to convenience, habit, and comfort because our brains are conserving energy.
So when you’re tired and overwhelmed, your brain doesn’t ask, “What would Greta Thunberg do?”
It asks, “What ends this discomfort the fastest?”
That’s how you end up on the couch, eating out of a plastic takeout container on a Thursday night, promising to try again on Monday.
When Perfect Becomes The Enemy of Literally Everything
Resolutions assume unlimited willpower.
The second you slip — one plastic fork, one missed workout — your brain categorizes the whole effort as unsafe, inefficient, and pointless. It pulls the ripcord, filing it under “Failed Attempts” next to “Learning French” and “Understanding Bitcoin.”
This is why people don’t gradually ease off goals. One misstep turns into total abandonment.
The same all-or-nothing thinking that kills diets quietly sabotages sustainability.
Climate change is daunting. Plastic seems unavoidable. Your choices feel pointless.
So your brain does what it always does with overwhelming problems.
It closes that file and opens Instagram.
But you don’t need a perfect system to participate in progress.
You can start a diet in the middle of a bag of chips.
You can care about the planet while still living in the world built on it.
Giving up entirely because you couldn’t go all in is the least sustainable move of all.
What Actually Works (For Humans, Not Influencers)
But, if I’m tired and biology is already working against me, do I even stand a chance?
Absolutely. Diminishing willpower isn’t a hall pass to give up.
The people who create lasting change don’t rely on motivation. They build habits that still work on bad days. They plan for their worst self, not their best.
They rearrange their lives so the easiest option is also the better one.
- They keep reusable bags in the car because the store is often a detour, not the plan.
- They buy the version that lasts, so they’re not replacing it again in six months.
- They pick takeout places that don’t send them home with six plastic spoons for a BLT.
And here’s the secret sauce. Your beliefs about willpower shape how long you last.
If you believe you’re “bad at this,” you quit sooner. If perseverance is part of your identity, you prevail longer, even when you’re just as tired.
Same biology. Different outcome.
Progress doesn’t need your perfection. It needs you to keep showing up.
The Industrial Guilt Complex
I love you guys. Truly.
But the last decade has been… a journey.
We went from denying climate change, to loving sustainability almost overnight.
And you were right to call out the corporate greenwashing.
The problem is the overcorrection. What feels like accountability is quietly burning the companies that are at least trying.
Take Patagonia.
Yes, many of their jackets are made from recycled polyester and nylon. Aka, plastic.
They’re also repairing gear for free, running one of the strongest take-back programs on the planet, and actively keeping clothing out of landfills.
Meanwhile, critics tweet from smartphones containing cobalt mined by children. But sure, attack the company turning garbage into Gore-Tex.
You know what happens when you shame every imperfect attempt?
People stop attempting.
When all they hear is “That doesn’t count,” “You didn’t go far enough,” or “Actually, that’s still bad,” they don’t level up. They give up.
Good intentions start to feel dangerous. Trying becomes embarrassing. And people quietly opt out rather than risk being told they’re doing it wrong.
Sustainability doesn’t fail because people don’t care.
It fails when perfection becomes the entry fee.
So let me make this very clear.
We don’t need 100 people doing sustainability perfectly. We need billions of people doing it better.
Progress, not perfection.
Mother Nature
Next week: Why waste doesn’t exist in nature - and why humans keep inventing it.
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📣 Know someone beating themselves up for breaking Dry January? Forward this.
♻️ Like that chips line? It’s Dan Martell’s. Because even Mother Nature recycles.
