Hey, Lonely Planet? Stuff it. Weaselly disclaimer about the global benefit of travel aside, you'd be out of business in about two seconds if everyone really heeded your warnings, because then they would simply stop flying altogether instead of throwing a few mitigatory bucks at the suggested offset website. (A website that redirects to "jpmorganclimatecare.com," by the way. I guess "climatecare.org" sounds more cuddly.)
This little passage annoyed me way more than it should have, but really, when I buy a travel guide I just want to know how to take the train from the airport and where to get cheap lunch. I don't want a lecture.
It was partly the underlying hypocrisy and sanctimonious tone that set me off, but I'm also mad because it made me feel so defensive.
I think it's good to be aware of how the things we do affect things on a larger scale, and I think it's good to remind people of that and offer practical ways to contribute. But when I get bombarded, ambushed even, with this stuff all the time, and especially in that tone--you know that tone, this isn't worst I've seen, either, not by far, but it's still that same goddamned tone--it makes me feel tired and discouraged and cynical. And I'm pretty receptive to the message in the first place. There are ways to encourage people to change their behavior without making them feel like evil destructive shitbags, and I think those ways are more effective.
Whew. This turned out to be about more than just a few innocuous paragraphs about the environmental impact of air travel. But honest, honest and for true, I can worry about my carbon footprint without the help of some silly travel book. Which was made out of bleached dead trees. Which was brought to the store on a giant truck. Which would release a number of toxins into the atmosphere if I were to set it on fire. See? I can't win.