From Casinos to Plastic Bags - Voluntary Self-Exclusion

Every morning my alarm clock wakes me up. Every morning I make a choice to be tortured by that little machine. And every evening I set it again to repeat the process. Even though I hate it, that little monster has my best intentions in mind.

Most people are short on time, especially in the hardest working city in the world (that would be Hong Kong). This is reflected most prevalently in our consumption. Of course we would all like to make wise choices with our food, our plastic bags and packaging, but sometimes, it’s just too much of a hassle.

We sit and wait for a company or government policy to come along to make a move to change things because half the time we know we are doing something wrong, but there just isn’t that driving force to change our ways. It’s a constant conundrum for the time-starved and convenience-loving folks that have a desire to make our air a little more breathable.

So I started thinking about what would make me change my behavioral patterns, personally, and I came up with the bare bones of a solution that may possibly work.

But first, an aside.

I like gambling. It’s fun. I get a kick out of casinos. But much like chocolates, or trans fats, or scotch, or high-performance vehicles, some people get carried away and gaming becomes a dangerous pastime.

This is why they have voluntary self-exclusion. I think it’s a great idea. Basically, you sign up, they take pictures of you, and if they catch you in the casino again, they boot you out, in some casinos they even fine you. It’s a great system and it works.

So, why not take this principle and apply it to sustainability?

Cutting Yourself Off From Plastic

A voluntary self-exclusion program, as I imagine it, would work like this: you sign up at the first supermarket chain that gets onboard, they combine the promotion with a rewards/spending behaviour card and it automatically makes you non-eligible to buy certain products, such as cases of bottled water, or items with excessive plastic packaging, or even their plastic bags upfront.

You sign up for this. You inconvenience yourself. You ask for it.

When it comes time to buy things, the card will not allow you to buy items that have damaging environmental repercussions and they have to be re-shelved. So no plastic bags to begin with. Forgot your bag at home? You will have to buy a cloth one that the supermarket chain has branded and mass-produced for a tidy profit of $5 a pop. You just want one measly bottle of water. No dice.

The supermarket could extend their own brand lines to have more sustainable designs to drive the purchases of the cardholders. The possibilities are unlimited And the sales potential for products with cornstarch packaging and environmental design are huge.

This idea could be extended to mandatory healthy food choices, electrical power usage caps, water supplies for apartment blocks, etc.

The stumbling block? The whole thing rests on the assumption that people will actually sign up to be inconvenienced in the first place. That people will choose to be hassled (at least until they get familiar with the program). The entire push would have to catch people when they are most vocal about the stinging skies and hold them to their convictions that they will try to make them better.

My guess is that with the right PR and advertising push, people would do it. It would grant a certain status to those with the special cards. It’s a similar idea to the ‘I’m a blood donor’ badges. It marks you as one of the good guys and as someone who is true to their word.

Why would a supermarket ever introduce such a system?

Imagine the free press they’d get. This is a PR dream come true, and it is only the tip of the iceberg. Manufacturers could do it on clothing. Food could do it with their organic lines. Etc etc. As a freelance copywriter with a background in sustainability advertising, I would be interested in working on such a project.

Either way, I think there is a chance it could work. I’d sign up. I’m sure a lot of people would.

Until then I’ll set my alarm clock for the night knowing that if I don’t get someone else to shake me from sweet, sweet sleep, I’ll never do it on my own.

Happy belated Earth Day.