How to Live a Low-Energy Lifestyle

Al Gore is really doing it, bringing climate awareness to the doorsteps of opinion makers and forcing them to consider all of its implications. Of course, no good deed ever goes unpunished in this country.

Aside from all the sniping about his annual home power bill (which turns out to be so high partly because he spends an extra five grand or so to buy wind power and might also have something to do with a vice president's security needs), lots of the usual "free market uber alles" types are accusing him and all green-minded folks of forcing them to wear the dreaded "hair shirt" of mandatory reductions in their energy use.

Incredibly, those who aren't complaining about the sacrifices are indignant about Gore making it all seem too easy. In Robert J. Samuelson's New York Times editorial last week titled "Hollywood's Climate Follies," he accuses Gore of painting the issue as "saints vs. sinners" and failing to acknowledge that "the lifestyles that produce greenhouse gases are deeply ingrained in modern economies and societies. ... Those who believe that addressing global warming is a moral imperative face an equivalent moral imperative to be candid about the costs, difficulties and uncertainties."

It's hard to tell exactly what triggered Samuelson's outrage, but it seems to be a line from Gore's Oscar acceptance speech where he said, "We have everything we need to get started, with the possible exception of the will to act. That's a renewable resource. Let's renew it."

But what will it take to renew that resource? Everywhere the conventional wisdom is that Americans will never give up their big cars, big houses, air conditioning set at 65 degrees on hot summer afternoons and incandescent light bulbs blazing throughout the house. This is the American way of life, and the idea that it cannot last seems to drive some people into hysterical fits. Don't just do something, panic! Al Gore and the greenies want to send us back to the 1970s!

There's no decade more reviled than the 1970s. Everything about it, from the funky earth-tone fashions, to the granola-chomping hippies, to disco, has been the butt of countless jokes. What I remember most about the '70s though, was getting my driver's license and then having to wait in line to buy gas because OPEC had decided to act like capitalists and charge what the market would bear. That formative experience set me on a career path concerned with energy and the environment. It also committed me to lifestyle choices that have led to me to where I am now -- sitting on a hillside in Oregon just beyond reach of the power grid.

With all the attention now on what are admittedly going to be the great challenges and sacrifices that lie ahead, I feel it incumbent to serve as an ambassador for the American low-energy lifestyle. It's really not so bad, folks.

That said, there's no way in which I feel I am some sort of paragon of sustainable living. I'm not. I drive a car, I buy too many cheap, imported consumer goods, and I take lots of hot baths and showers. In many ways, my life is like that of any typical suburban homeowner of modest means. Except that I make my own power for 11 months out of the year.

It's only 11 months, because after the rains start in November, it still takes a month for the creek to rise high enough to run the small hydropower generator that gets me through the cloudy winter months. So there's a month of running the gas generator, at least part of the time. But from April to October, there's plenty of sunshine to keep my batteries charged. And my system is a relatively small one. I have 700 watts of solar power that cost me about $5,000 to purchase and install.

My small power system is enough because I have taken several easy measures to keep my energy use within my means. No. 1 is to turn things off when they are not in use -- this includes light bulbs as well as the plethora of electronics and appliances that sit around sucking up standby power. Seventy-five percent of the electricity used to power home electronics is consumed while the products are turned off. Across the United States, this equals the annual output of 12 power plants and costs consumers over $1 billion each year. Buy some power strips so you can take back control over these "vampire loads."