It’s the final day of 2025, which means this is the last instalment of this green column. I haven’t gone off grid just yet (more on that later).
A major part of my resolutions this year was about putting my money where my mouth was and taking more seriously what I’ve long written about as a climate and environment journalist.
As I mentioned back in January, my ambitions were high: never flying, committing to veganism… essentially changing all aspects of my life that I could control in order to reduce my footprint. These goals are backed by science, of course, but the life I lead doesn’t always make them easy to sustain.
The breakdown
This year, I tried the following habits for at least one month, with varying degrees of success. Looking back, here’s how they held up.
Of course, there are obstacles I don’t face, such as school runs, mobility issues, dietary restrictions or having close family living far away. Some challenges were also easier to implement because I had already partly adopted them before this project began.
Lessons learned from a year of trying
The price of convenience
Looking back on this year, the word that comes to mind most is inconvenience. Taking the train can feel slower than flying, even when it isn’t. Shopping locally can feel time-consuming compared with ordering online and having everything delivered to your door. On a smaller, far less dramatic scale scale, remembering to soak legumes the night before – and convincing others to eat them – can be frustrating when you’re juggling work, social life and family obligations.
These challenges forced me not only to slow down, but also to be more deliberate. I spent more time on everyday tasks: making my own snacks to avoid packaged food, talking to people to exchange goods, planning ahead. This year was a reminder that the cost of convenience isn’t just environmental. It also affects the social interactions that come with a slower, more local way of living.
Good enough instead of perfect
For the sake of the challenge, I often chose drastic approaches: zero waste, no car at all, buying nothing, giving up chocolate, or fully committing to a vegan, regional and seasonal diet.
As with many New Year’s resolutions, all-or-nothing goals tend to fail because they are difficult to fit into existing routines. As someone who likes to do things properly, admitting that was uncomfortable. But few things are entirely black and white.
Low-waste living is more achievable than zero waste – and far better than doing nothing. Using the car only at weekends is more realistic than giving it up entirely (for now), and still an improvement on using it for every small errand. Gradually reducing meat intake leaves room to explore alternatives without risking your health.
Some habits stuck because they simply made sense. Better food planning reduced waste and saved money. Combined with buying less overall, that made it easier to invest in fewer, better-quality and more sustainable clothes. Other changes were easier to maintain because of the added health benefits – chocolate consumption excluded.
Learning from tradition
Throughout the year, I often mentioned my grandmother, Mamy Coco, who practises low-waste living without trying. That’s simply how things were: flying was rare, meat was eaten once or twice a week, ingredients were used fully, clothes weren’t bought for every occasion, and tools and books were borrowed. Depending on where you lived, you simply needed less.
Reaching out to older family members or reading old recipe/advice books, or even rediscovering old crafts can not only be a great way to preserve the past, but also to go back to living more with less.
Disconnecting
When I started this column, I said I wanted to reduce my carbon footprint without going off grid. A year of doing this has sharpened my awareness of modern consumption habits and, at times, made me want to step back from them altogether.
I’ve become more conscious of the constant stream of advertising and the pressure to dress, consume or behave in certain ways to signal success. Ultimately, opting out is a personal choice, but it isn’t always straightforward.
It’s also difficult to watch the public discourse around climate change. Political decisions in the EU and the world often undo earlier progress, disasters receive less attention, and many people are simply tired of the subject. I’ve felt that climate fatigue myself.
So I dug out my old Nokia (still working) and, from time to time, leave my smartphone at home. I go for walks and focus on birds, insects and plants instead. It doesn’t change anything in terms of my footprint, but it reminds me that I like the environment I live in and I’d like to keep it alive.
Drumroll, please…
At the start of the year, my carbon footprint stood at 11.96 tonnes of CO2 equivalent per year.
By the end of 2025, without feeling deprived, it was… down to 5.64 tonnes!
You could add a few kilograms here and there, but overall, living as I did at the end of the year would already cut my annual footprint by around half.
I’m glad I took on this challenge. It didn’t feel like a major sacrifice, though that comes with the caveat that I was already deeply engaged with the topic and didn’t need to persuade many others in my household to follow my lifestyle choices.
I didn’t fly at all, moved to a smaller home and stopped driving in June, all of which had a significant impact on my results.
I did not keep every habit in its most drastic form and was still able to save a lot on my footprint. The black column shows the average emissions per French resident, as I am spending my time off there. © Photo credit: Screenshot – Myco2.com
A bonus: the Christmas dinner
I promised to make Christmas dinner more eco-friendly and to provide proof if it was successful.
So here are some pictures of my imperfect but better than nothing eco-Christmas dinner. I wasn’t able to make the meal fully vegan – that would have resulted in a Christmas-for-one – so I prioritised regional, seasonal food and low waste.
According to the plate emissions calculator myemissions.co, it got a B carbon rating. And yet, it tasted delicious (that or my guests were exceptionally polite). Disclosure: Someone brought foie gras, but they also brought faux gras. I may have taken a bite from the real thing, but preferred the faux gras.
With the exception of the brie, the salmon and the Luxlait ice cream, everything was vegan, including the homemade meringues, which are dog-friendly, as one thieving dog can confirm.
Thank you for following along this year. Here’s to a greener 2026.