Once again, the mirror has been held up to my face, and I have to admit—it’s not an experience I enjoy.
Anyone who knows me, or even just reads this blog, will be aware that my fundamental interest is in being the best version of myself. Not just in some abstract, self-improvement sense, but in a deeply human way—acknowledging my weaknesses, confronting my inconsistencies, and striving to align my actions with my principles. I want to fully enable the human aspects of myself—the ones rooted in kindness, awareness, and responsibility—rather than letting the greedier, self-serving side take control. That part exists within me too, of course. But the more I recognize it, the more I realize how crucial it is to keep it in check.
With that in mind, I often find myself bewildered by how many people continue living their lives as if the world isn’t changing around them. We know what’s happening—climate change is no longer some distant warning; it's here, manifesting in heatwaves, wildfires, floods, and vanishing biodiversity. The destruction of our natural environment is relentless, and yet, so many of us—myself included—continue with habits and choices that contribute to the problem.
Change has to start with me. No excuses, no justifications—just real, tangible change.
The Transport Conundrum
One aspect of my life that has long been a focus of change is transport. I gave up owning a car over 20 years ago. Living in Switzerland, I have access to an excellent public transport system, and I simply couldn't justify the ongoing costs of car ownership—payments, garage space, parking, insurance, fuel, and maintenance. The financial aspect alone made it an easy decision. If I ever truly need a car, I can rent one, but that’s a rare occurrence. I walk, take trains, buses, or cycle when I can. It’s second nature to me now.
But flying—ah, now there’s a different story.
I recently took a look at flightradar24.com, which tracks all airborne flights worldwide. It’s staggering. At any given moment, the sky is filled with thousands of planes, 24/7. Each one burning through fuel, spewing emissions, and contributing massively to the climate crisis. And for what? Convenience? Leisure? Business trips that could just as well be handled over a video call? The more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. So I made a decision: I will not fly unless it’s a genuine life-or-death situation—an unlikely scenario.
The alternative? Trains.
For example, I looked into how long it would take to travel from Switzerland to Leeds, UK, by train. Turns out, it’s doable in about 11 hours. That’s half a day—far from impossible. And while the cheapest, most environmentally friendly option is simply not going at all, if I must travel, I can do it without resorting to cars or planes. It’s a commitment I am making to myself and to the planet.
The Hypocrisy of Meat
But this is where my self-examination gets uncomfortable.
I was recently speaking with a friend who told me he was planning a trip to Japan for a holiday. He’s vegetarian, and during our conversation, he expressed his disbelief that people still eat meat, knowing what they know about the industry. He’s right, of course. We’ve all seen the documentaries, read the reports, and watched the undercover footage. The conditions in which most animals are raised—crowded, confined, unnatural—are appalling. Factory farms are infamous for their inhumane treatment, and disease outbreaks are common.
I know this. I’ve known it for years. And yet... I still eat meat.
Not as much as I used to, but enough that I can no longer hide behind ignorance or half-measures. The hard truth? I eat meat because I like the taste. And that means, consciously or not, I’ve been willing to overlook the suffering behind every meal. That realization stings. Because it means I’ve been living in contradiction—espousing one set of values while acting against them. That is not the person I want to be.
The Change Begins Now
So, here’s my commitment: I am phasing meat out of my diet completely. Not tomorrow, not instantly, but systematically and with intention. I will finish what I already have in my kitchen—because waste is no better than excess—but after that, I’m done. No more justifications, no more looking the other way.
And I know it won’t be easy. Habits are hard to break, especially when they are deeply ingrained in culture, convenience, and personal preference. But ease isn’t the point—integrity is.
I’m grateful to my friend for holding up the mirror and forcing me to see what I had been avoiding. It’s never comfortable to confront one’s own contradictions, but discomfort is often the precursor to real transformation.
A Final Thought
This isn’t about being perfect. It’s not about moral superiority or rigid dogma. It’s about trying—really trying—to live in alignment with my values. The world is burning, and while I can’t single-handedly stop climate change or dismantle factory farming, I can choose the role I play in it. That choice, repeated daily, is what ultimately defines who we are.
So here I am, making that choice. Mea culpa. No more excuses.
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