Counter-Sustainability: The Hoax We All Fall For

Sustainability is the holy word of our time. It’s on hotel walls, coffee cups, supermarket shelves whispered like a prayer in boardrooms and political speeches. We are constantly reassured that we are making progress. But are we?

Look closer, and you’ll notice something strange. Many of these “sustainable” efforts are not just ineffective - they’re counterproductive. They don’t solve the problem. In some cases, they make it worse. Welcome to the era of counter-sustainability - a world where saving the planet has become an industry, a performance, a neatly packaged illusion.

Let me tell you a story.

I once visited a so-called eco-friendly resort in Sri Lanka. From the moment I arrived, I was bombarded with sustainability messaging. The towels were folded into the shape of leaves. The menu proudly listed "organic" ingredients. And on the bedside table sat a custom-printed coaster with the words: "We care for the environment."

I stared at it.

A custom-printed coaster. To prove eco-friendliness.

Someone had cut down a tree, processed it into paper, shipped it to a printing facility, inked it with a meaningless slogan, and sent it halfway across the country - all so that the resort could tell me they care about nature.

This is the absurdity of modern sustainability.

In another case, I found a stainless steel cup in a hotel room, accompanied by a message:

"This cup saves elephants."

I picked it up, turned it over, and tried to make sense of it. How exactly does fabricating a steel mug in a typical industrial extractivist manner contribute to saving elephants? Does mining iron ore help restore their habitats? Does melting steel in a furnace protect them from poachers? Or is this just another guilt-free product for consumers who want to believe they’re making a difference?

And it doesn’t stop at coasters or cups. Think about organic cotton - a darling of the ethical consumer. Sounds great, right? No chemicals, no synthetic fertilizers, just nature at its purest. But follow the supply chain, and a darker picture emerges. Organic cotton requires far more land and water than conventional cotton. It drains entire ecosystems, leaving behind dry, lifeless soil. In other words, the “eco-friendly” choice is sometimes just as bad - or worse - than the alternative.

The Great Illusion

How did we end up here? How did sustainability turn into a game of optics rather than impact?

The answer is simple: it sells. People don’t want real sustainability. They want the feeling of sustainability. They want to sip from a biodegradable straw and feel like they’re making a difference. They want to see the "100% recycled" label and believe their purchase is meaningful. They want hope - and businesses are happy to sell it.

But real sustainability isn’t a sticker on a product. It’s not a hashtag. It’s not a PR stunt. It’s a fundamental restructuring of how we produce, consume, and discard. And that? That’s a lot harder than printing a message on a coaster.

The Real Question

For decades, we have been told the same story: humans consume too much, so we must find better ways to consume. Plastic is bad? Use paper. Fossil fuels are bad? Use biofuels. Industrial agriculture is bad? Buy organic. But what if the problem is not what we consume, but the idea that we must keep consuming?

Modern sustainability is built on a paradox: it tries to fight extractivism with more extraction. It tells us we can keep buying, flying, building, and expanding just as long as we do it the “green” way. But history shows that every solution we invent eventually becomes part of the same system. The industrial revolution gave us coal. The green revolution gave us chemical fertilizers. The tech revolution gave us lithium batteries. Each step solved a crisis while creating a new one. Why should we assume this time will be any different?

Perhaps the real challenge is not finding sustainable alternatives but questioning the very foundation of our economic system: a world that depends on infinite growth in a finite ecosystem. Can we reimagine progress in a way that doesn’t depend on more? Can we build societies that thrive without the need for endless consumption, expansion, and extraction?

Or are we trapped in an endless loop where the fight against one destructive supply chain simply gives rise to another, equally destructive, but better disguised?