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Your parents raised you right.  Maybe you went to church or a mosque.  Maybe you didn’t.  But you consider yourself a pretty decent and ethical person.  At some point on your journey, you developed a set of morals and ethics and have more or less lived by them since, right?  Wrong.  

The greatest strength of humans is actually the amazing adaptability to our environment we get from that extra big brain we have.  Broken down to the most basic level, we do what works in order to survive and thrive in our context.  If you grow up in Russia, you’re likely to speak Russian rather than trying to speak Swahili.   If you’ve grown up in Poland, you’re much more likely to be Catholic rather than say a Hindu.  If you grow up punching others, you’ll discover pretty quickly that your behaviour gets you into trouble (unless you take up boxing of course!) – so you either stop doing it, become a boxer, or you end up in jail.   (more…)

Hello from freezing Wellington,

There is something that about being a so-called ‘food ethics blogger’ that really bugs me. I think it’s that sense that maybe I should be a model for all my readers (yes, both of you)…a paragon of virtue if you will. The unfortunate truth is that I’m not really all that ethical when it comes to food. I mean well, but I have a couple of guilty food secrets.

The first is that sometimes I do let food go off and throw it out. It’s not deliberate. I don’t have a vendetta against market gardeners or anything. It just sort of happens. I know there’s no excuse, but sometimes I get busy or just forget what’s already in the fridge when I’m at the supermarket. Then, when I get home, I just can’t face eating food that’s limp or got stuff growing on it. Even worse, as a gardener, I know how much effort and time it takes to grow things. But does that stop me chucking that partly mouldy orange? Not a bit. (more…)

– by Steve Waldegrave

Kia ora! My name is Steve and I am writing to you from the top of a hill in Wellington, Aotearoa / New Zealand. It’s not any random hill (that would be weird); it’s where I live.

I’m half Polish, half Kiwi and bit further back, a bit Irish, a bit Scottish, and even a tiny bit Indian (on my grandmother’s side). It’s complicated. (more…)