Fair Trade and the Failure of Ethical Principles

Recently several companies who previously embraced the Fairtrade label have announced that they will abandon the third-party label and instead pursue their own policy for their fairly-traded products. Last year, Cadbury chocolates announced that they will set up their own system to monitor and develop their cocoa supply chain, last week UK mega retailer Tesco announced they would switch to Rainforest Alliance certification, and this week UK grocer Sainsbury’s has announced they will use their own process and labeling for store-brand teas previously labeled Fairtrade.

There are a lot of intricacies of and details about fair trade labeling that I won’t go into, but the Fairtrade brand is managed, monitored, and enforced by an organization that acts as a middle-man between farmers and other brands and retailers. Basically, if you want your product to be labeled with their brand mark, you must follow their guidelines and prove do so in a very detailed, thorough way. Of course, this process creates a lot of hoops to jump through, takes up the cost of such products, and also means that some of the price you pay for the items goes toward that monitoring rather than going to the farmers. There is a lot of academic debate about whether the fair trade movement actually raises the real wages of farmers, particularly when it comes to big commodity crops. However, it remains one of the most recognizable ways to ensure that the people in the supply chain of a product you buy were paid fairly and treated well.

It’s conceivable that companies like Sainsbury’s and Cadbury could come up with their own scheme that does just as much for farmers without the middle man–and perhaps even that farmers could get a larger share of money. But here’s where accountability and legal structure matter. Since Sainsbury’s and Cadbury are publicly trade companies, technically their only legal responsibility is to shareholder profits. So it’s hard to imagine that they will not create policies that are ultimately in that interest. Which, to be honest, doesn’t mean that it can’t also be good for producers but it’s certainly seems less likely if we’re being realistic.

I have a love/hate relationship with ethical consumerism. I think it matters, we should advocate for it, and I think it can make tangible differences in the lives of individuals and in the marketplace. I think it’s worth making these choices when we can… but it’s also something that can be easily co-opted. So while I think it’s good, I’m also skeptical when I see certain businesses marketing themselves or their products as ethical. Consider this article, for example, about how words like ethical, sustainable, and fair trade are new signals of luxury and brands are adopting them in order to attract millennials. So in this case, it’s really not about people, it’s still really just about sales. That’s not to say that those changes can’t create a certain amount of difference, but in the end it’s not about people–it’s about money for the companies and it’s about image for the consumer.

These examples from Ben & Jerry’s and Lush Cosmetics seem a little more legitimate. They are companies that have a broad, consistent reputation for ethical practices and social engagement. They are privately held companies which at least allows (though certainly doesn’t guarantee) the flexibility and possibility that they can manage different priorities and values according to their goals. Other legal structures like Benefit Corporations allow companies to explicitly state and be held accountable to social goals in addition to profits.

There’s a lot we could debate about ethical consumption. And while the conversation and decisions about what we buy remain worthwhile, they have the potential to obscure the reality of my life and relationships. In Money and Power, Jacques Ellul writes about the Christian conversation about socialism versus capitalism that was happening while he wrote the book in the 1950s. He argues that to discuss justice only in terms of economic systems is “hypocrisy and cowardice.” He writes:

“It is so convenient. I don’t have to think about what I do. I don’t have to try to use my money better, to covet less to quit stealing. It’s not my fault. All I have to do is campaign for socialism or conservatism, and as soon as society’s problems are solved, I will be just and virtuous–effortlessly…

“To solve the problem of money by joining a system is to choose an alibi which allows me, in all good conscience, to remain uncommitted…this escape hatch gives me an enormously easy way to avoid facing reality and realizing the power money has over me…

“For I am no longer just when I do good as an individual; by contrast, I am just (in my own eyes and those of my friends) when I have signed on the dotted line.”

I think the same could at least partly be said about ethical consumption. If I come up with some nice principles that I adhere to when I shop, as informed and well-intentioned as they may be, I can convince myself that I’m good. And I can appear as such to others. My Instagram feed is full of beautiful images of products and aspirational messages from ethical companies and I’m thankful for the work they do and I choose to buy from them when I can. But if I stop there I haven’t addressed the hold money or things have in my life, so nothing has really changed.

I think making a commitment to ethical consumption can start to make us aware of the hold things and have over us (my previous blog post on minimalism is relevant here, as well) but once we do, we realize that no amount of good decision making will solve the exploitation going on in the world.

These tidy steps and guidelines can also keep me blind to the fullness of sin in my own life. They can allow me to come up with ways to justify myself and feel righteous on my own terms. (And that probably means I think I’m more righteous than you, too.) I might be concerned about the slavery in the supply chain of my chocolate bar–and that is a good thing to be concerned about–but do I love my neighbor across the street who yells and plays loud music a lot?

So while I have plenty of things to say about ethical consumption and am happy to answer any questions you have about it, what matters first is whether Jesus is the ultimate reality and Lord over all my life and my decisions. We must start with Christ and continually turn to him to free us and show us what it means to love our neighbors–in our families, next door, and around the world. He’s the only one who can reconcile all things and end exploitation, I just get to participate. The kind of discipleship that flows from a life surrendered to God will be more radical and costly than a set of principles and my bag of fair trade coffee.

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