considered himself quite a moderate consumer. I’d shudder to think of the list an A-list celebrity would come up with. I worked my way down the list, trying to figure out how I could acquire all the things I would normally need in ways that didn’t involve money. It became clear, after just a couple of pages, that most of the stuff would involve me having no more than one degree of separation from what I consumed; either I would make it myself or know the person who produced it.
This was a perfect starting point. It provided me with lots of really useful information with which I could make decisions. How many new skills would I have to learn either before or during the experiment? How much was the necessaryinfrastructure going to cost? How much time would each activity take? As this year was about consuming less and having a closer relationship with the things that remained, my list-making enabled me to establish my basic level of subsistence, the things I really couldn’t do without, and my priorities for the rest.
One of the greatest things about this process was that it forced me to ask myself how important each item was. I love bread; it’s a deep-rooted addiction. The ‘breaking-it-down’ process made me realize that to have bread I would have to get my grain, take it home in my bike’s trailer (which always takes a bit longer on busy roads) and grind it into flour using a hand-cranked grain mill. I would have to make my sourdough starter and (for the first batch) wait five days. During these five days I would have to make a cob oven outside. Once that was made and fit for use, I would have to fire it up, then look after it constantly for a couple of hours as my bread cooked. By which time I would probably be too tired to eat the delicious loaf I had spent a week preparing.
I subscribe to the ‘Permaculture’ ideology. Permaculture is about creating human habitats and food production systems by designing models that mimic natural patterns. These models not only eliminate almost all waste and save lots of energy, but also save a lot of work. While I certainly wouldn’t call myself lazy, I don’t believe in using more kilojoules of energy to make food than that piece of food will supply, or it would make more sense to lie down and read a book. However, there is always a middle way. The listing process made me realize that, if I wanted bread, I was going to have to come up with a new solution. And I did. I decided that although I loved bread, it would have to be a treat. Instead, I would sprout the grains. This means sprinkling a layer of rye grains along a couple of stacked, perforated trays and rinsing them with water twice a day until they sprout. This only takes five minutes and so is much less effort, for more nutritionalgain, than making bread. Although not quite so pleasing to taste and smell!
This is just one example from a list of hundreds. Another benefit of the list was that it enabled me to figure out how much I would have to save and then spend to create the infrastructure necessary to make this year happen. It may sound ironic, or even contradictory, to hear me say I had to save and spend money to make my year without money happen. But I never said I wanted humanity to stop using money tomorrow, any more than I would like to see humankind stop using oil next week. Much as I would love to see both happen one day, currently it would cause catastrophe, as our entire infrastructure is based on the abundance of both. I view money in the same way as oil; if we insist on using it, let’s at least stop using it for non-essential or destructive goods and services. Let’s start using both these resources to build a new infrastructure that will enable us to be truly sustainable in the long term. For me, it is not about revolution, but about evolution, transition, and transformation.
To get the basic infrastructure I felt I required in order to live without money, it looked as though I was going to have