This is about the company called Amazon, not the Amazon rainforest. Those two entities are very different, of course, but what they have in common is an unfathomable massiveness. One lurks on the underside of the Earth, super-dense with life even as it's being eroded and burned down at an accelerating rate. Out of sight, often out of mind, and oddly fragile. The other one, nominally headquartered in Seattle, is ubiquitous and mutating, its super-efficient tendrils spreading into communities and homes almost every-damn-where. One is the great carbon storehouse of the planet, under threat and threatening us as it declines. The other is the great warehouse and delivery system of the planet, supplying us with stuff we may or may not need from a to z (see progress of penile-arrow in the company's logo). Plus they store our vacation photos at vast server farms and make cool TV shows like The Man in the High Castle.
One might argue that one Amazon's rise is perpetuating the other's demise, but that's an economic and philosophical discussion for another day. On this day I received a mass-email from a Kat Dellinger, a member of Amazon Employees for Climate Justice. She and about a thousand other captives/happy workers at Amazon have pledged to walk off the job this Friday, September 20th, as part of a global strike to demand action on climate change. Specifically, Kat and crew want Amazon to stop giving money to politicians who deny climate change, stop working with oil and gas companies to optimize fossil fuel extraction, and start toward a zero-carbon company by 2030.
Also, this morning, I received a package from Amazon. You see, recently we ran out of our favorite coffee, Peet's Major Dickason's Blend, and how could we possibly survive without it? So my wife went clickity-click at Amazon Prime and, boom, one day later a package arrived. A few days earlier, I'd ordered a magnetic whiteboard for my daughter -- the online search took about five minutes and G-d knows how many stores I may have gone in and out of otherwise to find the right-sized whiteboard and a decent price. A few days before that, presto, a box full of Yehuda Shabbos candles (product of the Dominican Republic!) arrived just in time for...you get the idea. We use Amazon, we like Amazon.
And yet, I have mixed feelings. It's just too easy, getting whatever you want dumped on your doorstep. Something's not kosher here; someone's gotta be paying for this. Maybe the bill comes due on the heads of Amazon's warehouse workers, on their feet all day, regimented into flesh-and-bone robots. My daughter claims that the poor souls barely get bathroom breaks; could that be true? On the other hand, the company is to be commended for paying a $15/hour minimum wage. Or maybe I should lament the Amazon delivery trucks ceaselessly cruising neighborhoods, gushing greenhouse gases. On the other hand, maybe ordering online causes a lot more greenhouse gases not to be gushed because consumers aren't running to the strip mall to pick up coffee, whiteboards and candles.
Like I said, mixed feelings. I'm not ready to cut the e-commerce chord. But I can wish Kat and all the climate-striking Amazon workers good luck trying to force change at a company that could meet all their demands and still be world dominant. Hold on, wishing isn't enough, is it? Perhaps a bold threat is in order. Jeff Bezos, richest man on Earth and master-lord of Amazon, Inc., get your freakin' green act together or I'll never order Yehuda Shabbos candles from you again! Take that!
Also, this morning, I received a package from Amazon. You see, recently we ran out of our favorite coffee, Peet's Major Dickason's Blend, and how could we possibly survive without it? So my wife went clickity-click at Amazon Prime and, boom, one day later a package arrived. A few days earlier, I'd ordered a magnetic whiteboard for my daughter -- the online search took about five minutes and G-d knows how many stores I may have gone in and out of otherwise to find the right-sized whiteboard and a decent price. A few days before that, presto, a box full of Yehuda Shabbos candles (product of the Dominican Republic!) arrived just in time for...you get the idea. We use Amazon, we like Amazon.
And yet, I have mixed feelings. It's just too easy, getting whatever you want dumped on your doorstep. Something's not kosher here; someone's gotta be paying for this. Maybe the bill comes due on the heads of Amazon's warehouse workers, on their feet all day, regimented into flesh-and-bone robots. My daughter claims that the poor souls barely get bathroom breaks; could that be true? On the other hand, the company is to be commended for paying a $15/hour minimum wage. Or maybe I should lament the Amazon delivery trucks ceaselessly cruising neighborhoods, gushing greenhouse gases. On the other hand, maybe ordering online causes a lot more greenhouse gases not to be gushed because consumers aren't running to the strip mall to pick up coffee, whiteboards and candles.
Like I said, mixed feelings. I'm not ready to cut the e-commerce chord. But I can wish Kat and all the climate-striking Amazon workers good luck trying to force change at a company that could meet all their demands and still be world dominant. Hold on, wishing isn't enough, is it? Perhaps a bold threat is in order. Jeff Bezos, richest man on Earth and master-lord of Amazon, Inc., get your freakin' green act together or I'll never order Yehuda Shabbos candles from you again! Take that!
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