Carbon neutrality by 2020: the rallying cry, the crown jewel of Bowdoin's sustainability plan. There are, of course, plenty of other initiatives geared towards "going green," from zero-sort recycling to the Yellow Bike Club. But reigning in an institution's carbon footprint has become the green standard; talk of sustainable campuses does not happen without hearing the phrase. Just ask any high school junior or senior touring around the NESCAC how many times they have heard about carbon neutrality goals.
It is by no means an insignificant target or symbol, and Bowdoin should be commended for its aggressive timeline. Still, it's all too easy to become complacent or out of touch with environmental realities. What better place to implement carbon neutrality than a small, liberal arts (and liberal-minded), well-endowed college in Maine? Many of the major steps toward carbon neutrality require nothing from the student body; we could go about our daily lives without ever knowing that Bowdoin uses geothermal or steam cogeneration energy, or that we have reduced carbon emission by 16 percent since 2009.
Meanwhile, those initiatives that do seek to challenge our attitudes towards the environment, like the campus-wide energy challenge, trivialize the cause by making it a competition. Instead of believing in the importance of turning off a light switch when we exit a room, we are simply motivated by the potential prize at the end of the month. And, as noble as the goal may be, lasting habit changes surely don't come in a month. Stories of College House energy sabotage and ample evidence of quick relapse into old ways provide sad proof of this fact.
It's not just our carbon plan that fails to confront the student body adequately. Lost amidst the focus on carbon are many other opportunities to engage. We live a luxurious life; making minor changes in our habits thus seem more offensive and more radical than they should.
So where can we improve? Bring back Meatless Mondays (or at least red Meatless Mondays). Four ounces of beef, which constitutes a pretty average serving for us hungry college kids, requires 625 gallons of water to make it to our tables. Let students protest outside of Thorne, if they believe that to be the appropriate response (as they did last year). Hopefully, it will force people to think about why burgers can be bad.
Or what about removing trays, first just once a week and then altogether? Using a tray—while clearly an innocent, default decision for nearly all of us—facilitates food and energy waste. If you are like me, your eyes are far bigger than your stomach, so being able to grab several plates at once usually leads to unfinished food. Or if I'm thirsty, trays allow me to grab three cups of water instead of just refilling one when I finish. When trays were removed once a week, at Rice University, early results showed a 30 percent decrease in food waste, and significant drops in use of kitchen water and cleaning chemicals.
At the least, students will react to more challenging eco-friendly measures. And hopefully, this will lead to education, or to an understanding of how some minor sacrifices have major payoffs.
Outside of the classroom, Bowdoin does little to challenge us in meaningful ways that are necessary to create tomorrow's stewards of the earth. Those who do strive for sustainability in their own lives most likely came to Bowdoin with such goals in mind.
Just as it is too easy to never consider the impacts of using a tray, classes at Bowdoin don't sufficiently incorporate environmental concerns into their curricula. Instead, the environment is relegated to its own department.
Why not, as a recent "Transition to a New Economy" conference at Harvard asked, teach about natural capital and environmental policy in introductory economics or government classes? Maybe the best plan is to have an environmental studies distribution requirement, just like International Perspectives.
Regardless, the College should feel obligated to force students to interact with what will be one of the most pressing concerns of our adult lives.
Peter Nauffts is a member of the Class of 2015.