JUST TRANSITION / ENVIRONMENT

A generation raised to save the world, now too broke to recycle: the death of the Tidy Kiwi.

I remember throughout primary school, there was a collective understanding of ecological justice. Every child knew how many rugby fields of rubbish Auckland, Wellington or Christchurch produced in a year. We banded together, under a common enemy, knowing full well that the ice caps were melting and we were the generation to save them. Do you remember the phrase, ‘Tidy Kiwi’ ? I can’t remember the last time I heard it. It seems as though the post-pandemic world, defined by growing inequality, has made the Tidy Kiwi endangered. 

17.49 million tonnes of rubbish are produced every year by our wonderful country. 12.59 million tonnes of that buried beneath our soils, out of sight. Concurrently, over the past 140 years, Earth’s temperature has increased by 1.1 degrees celsius, which is the fastest change in temperature since the arrival of humans. If these facts do not scare you, they should. They represent the snowballing, existential threats that waste, consumption, and environmental degradation pose to the systems that sustain our daily lives. They are symptoms of an economic logic that treats the planet as disposable and future generations as collateral.

But all of us are guilty, right? Marching down the pavement, avoidantly glancing with shame at plastic wrappers and crushed cans knotted in the grass, hoping that some rare and resilient Tidy Kiwi comes along and does what we are too lazy to do. 

What is it that we are missing that we had then that we don’t have now? Hope? Do we no longer believe that picking up our litter will solve the issue? Well it won’t. The issue runs much deeper, as deep as the microplastics that now are embedded in, well, almost everything. To be a Tidy Kiwi in the shoes of an adult, not a schoolchild, has evolved into a lifestyle. A list of commandments which we all know by heart, but fail to follow. 

"Don't buy single-use plastic," yes.

We nod and agree with furrowed brows and pressed lips, whilst we still reach for the cheapest packet of two-minute noodles that we know will satiate us without overdraft. Not out of ignorance, but necessity.

To be able to wear the badge of Tidy Kiwi and practice the pillars of so-called sustainable consumption is subject to one’s weekly income and class. ‘Green’ products are believed to be as much as 30% more expensive than their single-use or ‘non-sustainable’ counterparts. In 2025 alone, grocery prices have increased by 1.9%. So let’s be honest: donating to GreenPeace is yet another financial burden. Bringing in your soft-plastics and used batteries is another line at the bottom of your agenda and buying eco-friendly can be financial suicide for many. Should the onus really be on us, the poor and powerless, to ensure sustainability? 

"Avoid cheap products with palm oil," of course.

No. If we were to assume that an individual or group’s ability to create ecological sustainability is tied to their socio-economic conditions, then it surely should be the responsibility of the CEOs, the mega-corporations, and the global industries to ensure that waste and pollution are meaningfully addressed and reduced. The everyday consumer, like you and me, are restricted to the corporate fiefdoms that surround us. Corporate empires like Pak‘n’Save and Kmart possess the power to prevent vast amounts of waste while also making it easier for consumers to consume sustainably. Our government, who claims to represent and protect the country, land and people, has an obligation to impose policies and regulations that actively seek to protect the environment. But no. In the name of a free-market and profits, those in power continue to favour financial growth over the very real natural world which has forever sustained us. 

These economic gains continue to be unrealised for the vast majority of us. The world has never held so much wealth as it does now. Though we have never been this unequal, nor the Earth this unwell. So where is this growth that so many economists and politicians love to mention? A symbolic shift in the trajectory of government and business has occurred within our country. The recent amendments to New Zealand’s Wildlife Act, allowing companies to kill Kiwi and the habitats of endangered species, has legitimised profit-maximising environmental degradation. With the sweep of a pen and bureaucratic fallacies of economic growth, the government has effectively prompted the bulldozing of our national identity. Where will the Tidy kiwi go in this desolate landscape? It would seem that we, as New Zealanders, no longer pride ourselves on our collective commitment to the environment.

"Get the eco-friendly stuff and remember; always stick to organic," I'll try!

A lack of hope inevitably plagues our minds. It’s easy to say go protest, repost activist news articles or to sign petitions and present submissions, but these are a mentally demanding list of actions to add to one’s agenda. This is not a struggle that any of us should face alone. It involves all of us. Change can begin through something as simple as talking. Actively discussing these issues with your friends and thus, taking the journey together, will undoubtedly rid oneself of this moral fatigue. It is through solidarity and the strength of the collective that we are able to actualise change. 

Modern society lacks multi-faceted techniques and ways in which the people are heard. But within New Zealand the parliamentary vote is often seen as the citizens' singular strongest tool. By voting for a group who actively seeks to ensure ecological justice and diminish wealth inequality might just reinforce the possibility of a green future.

—

Noah Everard