new moon, april 2025

Is renouncing air travel wise?

In the beginning of this project, I announced three aspirations:

1. New ways of life – making changes to my way of life each new moon
2. Day of silence – not speaking the day of the new moon
3. Group eco-healing – collective mindfulness-based earthwork, weekly

As mentioned in the second post, this is all part of developing a new wisdom tradition.

Three months in, I am fulfilling those aspirations well enough, thank god. Today, the new moon of April, I add a new change: renouncing air travel.

This choice inspires questions: How does this align with wisdom traditions? Why now? How will this help, if at all? Isn’t this a bit extreme? (Your questions are welcome. Any others?)

Answering these and related questions in 800-1,200 words is not possible today. So this will be a series of essays.

How does renouncing air travel align with wisdom traditions and loving god?

In Taoism, the vision of loving god (tao) is a simple life rooted in place:

Tao Te Ching, Verse 80

If a country is governed wisely,
its inhabitants will be content.
They enjoy the labor of their hands
and don’t waste time inventing
labor-saving machines.
Since they dearly love their homes,
they aren’t interested in travel.
There may be a few wagons and boats,
but these don’t go anywhere.
There may be an arsenal of weapons,
but nobody ever uses them.
People enjoy their food,
take pleasure in being rooted in community,
work and preserve their gardens,
delight in the doings of the neighborhood.
And even though the next country is so close
that people can hear its roosters crowing and its dogs barking,
they are content to die of old age
without ever having gone to see it.

(Note: there are many translations of Tao Te Ching verses in English. This is one of many good ones, and includes two edits by me, based on other versions.)

It’s a beautiful vision of rootedness in place and peace, but it may not appeal to everyone; wisdom rarely does.

Wisdom lifestyles are often in sharp contrast to empire lifestyles lived by the majority of society. Wisdom is rooted in shalom and stillness; empire is trapped in business and busyness. The Amish are an easy example of this contrast. They shun some labor-saving devices and disruptive inventions in favor of peace in their minds and peace in their lives. I am not saying the Amish are an ideal community. I am saying that wisdom communities make choices about what to embrace and what to renounce, including modes of transportation, to be rooted and fruitful in loving god and loving neighbor.

Renouncing air travel may not be popular. Wisdom is rarely popular. “Seeing the whole oneness,” a definition of wisdom rooted in Ancient Greek philosophy, is meant to wake us up to the interconnectedness of all life. In this case, wisdom can wake us up to the disaster of climate disruption, the harm it does and the harm we do by contributing to it with our lifestyle, including our transportation. We may not want to think about this. But mindlessly following an empire lifestyle often means cooperating with harmful systems, perpetuating harm rather than embodying harmlessness.

“Flying is the quickest and cheapest way to warm the planet,” said Andrew Murphy of Transport & Environment, a think tank in Brussels.

• A flight from Miami to Los Angeles emits 1.3 tons of carbon dioxide per passenger. (MyClimate)
• Every metric ton of carbon dioxide emitted melts 3 square meters of Arctic sea-ice.
• The International Civil Aviation Organization predicts air travel emissions will grow 300-700 percent by 2050, compared to 2005 levels.

Who flies the most? “1% of the world’s population accounts for 50% of aviation emissions.” It’s not just the wealthy elite.

• In 2024, for the first time ever, more than half of Americans reported taking at least one trip by air.
• Nearly 90% of Americans have flown. Adults ages 18-24 had the highest propensity to fly in 2024.
• More than two-thirds of Americans with household incomes under $75,000 have flown in the past five years. (Airlines for America)

Like others with the means to fly, I have a choice. Do I contribute to this harmful consumption or not? This is where the tradition of wisdom comes in handy.

How have wisdom traditions handled similar problems in the past? Consider two examples, one individual, the other collective.

The Montgomery Bus Boycott

Imagine giving up your car for a year. That’s what the African-American people of Montgomery did when they boycotted the bus system. The city bus was the primary means of transportation for most Black Americans in Montgomery. They stopped using the bus system in December 1955. They didn’t ride the buses again until January 1957.

Boycott organizers quickly improvised a carpool system to support workers. A local judge ruled it illegal for boycotters to carpool.

After the ruling, at the nightly mass meeting to encourage boycotters, to share news, and to adjust plans, Martin King delivered the news. The carpool system was ruled illegal . . . There would be no rides to work tomorrow.

A collective groan arose from the people assembled in the church. King asked the boycotters, “What would you like to do? Should we end the boycott, or do you want to keep it going and walk to work until we can appeal this decision?”

Mother Pollard, an elder in her 70s, stood up and answered for the group. “My feets is tired,” she said. “But my soul is rested!” Her words electrified the crowd. She had confirmed that boycotting the bus system was the right thing to do. It cost them physical comfort, but it gave them spiritual peace. They continued the boycott. They continued to walk. Later, a higher court overturned the ban on the carpool system, allowing organizers to resume it.

Justice and goodness toward all creation

Quaker John Woolman (1720-1772) was a merchant, tailor, journalist, preacher, and abolitionist, rooted in the colony of New Jersey.

Living during the height of colonization, the industrial revolution, and slavery, he rejected the unjust systems where he met them: in daily life.

• Woolman avoided stage-coaches. He believed the horses were abused, and opposed overworking draft animals.
• Traveling often, he was the guest of many wealthy merchants. But “he refused to be served with silver cups, plates, and utensils, as he believed that slaves in other regions were forced to dig such precious minerals and gems for the rich.”
• “True religion,” Woolman said, “consisted in an inward life, wherein the heart doth love and reverence God the Creator, and learns to exercise true justice and goodness not only toward all men, but also toward the brute creatures.” We could add toward all creation.

We can follow these examples of wisdom lifestyles. Or we can follow empire lifestyles. We cannot do both. But we can compromise. Thich Nhat Hanh, an early proponent of No Car Day, flew to the the U.S. every two years to lead mindfulness retreats. That was before the sharp increase in annual global temperature.

We can pretend that to fly or not to fly is a personal decision, but anything that requires massive coordination and multiple systems cannot be personal. The decision, yes. The consequences, no.

To be continued ...