What Does ‘Sustainability’ Really Mean?
Originally published by The Times Union
At a recent public conversation on sustainability in Albany, it became clear just how narrow our collective understanding of “the environment” has become. When the focus turns to things like speed bumps or municipal efficiency upgrades, it raises a deeper question: Have we lost sight of what genuine ecological responsibility looks like?
Too often, public discourse around environmental issues stops at surface-level changes — efforts that are well-intentioned but ultimately fall short of addressing the deeper causes of ecological harm.
Ideas like reducing traffic or increasing energy efficiency are frequently paired with visions of expanded development, increased consumption and economic growth. We must begin to ask, with honesty: Are these goals truly compatible?
Real sustainability is not solely about replacing fossil fuels with “clean alternatives” or upgrading city vehicles. It’s about rethinking the very patterns of living, producing and relating that have led us to this point.
Sustainability asks us to challenge inherited assumptions: that humans are separate from nature, that progress means growth, or that well-being is measured by GDP. Can we come to understand ourselves as participants in a living web, responsible not only for minimizing harm but for actively regenerating the places we live?
The ecological crisis is not simply about carbon or rising temperatures. It is about disconnection. From collapsing insect populations to widespread soil degradation, from drying rivers to vanishing species, to the plastic crisis and beyond, we are witnessing a great unraveling. The truth is that this reality touches every corner of the planet. And yet these signs can also be seen as a call to reconnect, to reimagine, to rebuild and to restore.
We are capable of building communities in which care for people and the Earth come before profit and endless expansion. Communities where decisions are made collectively, guided by ecological limits and shared values. Communities where land is tended to with ecological responsibility, not exploited, and where economic activity meets real human and ecological needs.
This kind of transformation may seem daunting — but is it really so far-fetched? If we can imagine colonizing other planets, surely we can imagine a world where every neighborhood has access to fresh food, where streets are designed for people instead of traffic, where work is meaningful and grounded in mutual care.
Instead of “sustainable development,” we might envision something simpler and more enduring: food sovereignty, walkable neighborhoods, regenerative landscapes and public spaces where life — human and otherwise — can flourish. Instead of top-down paternalistic governance, we might look to community assemblies, local stewardship and direct and participatory democracy to achieve this vision.
The changes we need are not just technical; they are relational, social and cultural. And they begin with the question: What kind of future do we want to grow together?