Mindful Trails

Category: Mindful Money

  • Green or Grey? The UK’s Sustainable Finance U-Turn and What It Means for Mindful Money

    The UK government has announced today that it would not move forward with its planned Green Taxonomy. This was a proposed framework designed to classify which economic activities count as ‘environmentally sustainable.’

    On the surface, this may seem like a technical or niche policy decision. But it raises important questions about how we define sustainability, who gets to decide and how individuals can make ethical financial choices in the absence of clear guidelines.

    What was the UK Green Taxonomy meant to do?

    A taxonomy is, in essence, a classification system. Much like food labels tell us about ingredients and nutritional value, a green taxonomy would help investors and businesses understand the environmental impact of economic activities, whether it’s energy production, agriculture, construction, or financial products.

    The aim was to reduce greenwashing, guide sustainable investment, and align the financial sector with the UK’s climate and biodiversity goals.

    But after running a consultation between November 2024 and February 2025, with only around 45% of responses supporting the plan, the government concluded…

    ‘After careful consideration of the consultation responses, the government has concluded that a UK Taxonomy would not be the most effective tool to deliver the green transition’

    HM Treasury, July 2025

    Instead, there will be a focus on other measures: such as mandatory sustainability disclosures (UK Sustainability Reporting Standard), corporate transition plans, and clean-tech incentives.

    A step back, or a step sideways?

    Reactions have been mixed. Some sustainability advocates were disappointed, calling the decision a missed opportunity to bring clarity and consistency to a market flooded with vague claims. Others, including business groups have argued that the taxonomy would have added unnecessary complexity, especially as international standards are still evolving.

    There is truth in both positions.

    Creating a meaningful taxonomy is difficult. It involves drawing lines between what counts as ‘green’ and what doesn’t. This is a challenging endeavour in a world where nuance, context, and uncertainty often dominate. Even the EU’s taxonomy, now under revision, has faced criticism for being both too rigid and too compromised.

    Source: Bergensia

    At the same time, without any shared standards, we risk drifting into a ‘do-it-yourself’ model of sustainability, where each business defines its own criteria and investors are left to decipher what’s real and what’s marketing.

    Why does this matter for mindful money?

    For those of us trying to live and invest with intention, the government’s decision puts the spotlight back on individual responsibility and discernment. Without a clear rulebook, we need to ask better questions, look more closely, and think more systemically.

    This is not necessarily a bad thing. But it does ask more of us.

    Mindful money isn’t about outsourcing our ethics to a label or standard. It’s about slowing down, looking under the surface, and considering the wider impacts of how we spend, save, and invest. And yet, most people don’t have the time or tools to analyse every fund or company from scratch.

    That’s why shared frameworks, while imperfect can play a useful role. They don’t replace personal values, but they support them. They offer a starting point for deeper inquiry.

    So where does this leave us?

    The UK’s decision not to proceed with a taxonomy highlights a tension in our systems: between the need for clarity and the reality of complexity. Between fast action and thoughtful development. Between personal agency and public accountability.

    This moment invites reflection, not reaction.

    We can ask:

    • What does ‘sustainable’ really mean to us?
    • Who do we trust to make that judgment? ourselves, governments, or markets.
    • How can we build the skills and awareness needed to navigate green claims with greater clarity?

    What you can do next

    If you’re trying to align your money with your values, here are some ways forward:

    • Look beyond green labels. Ask about transparency, outcomes, and how impact is measured.
    • Explore independent research. Organisations like ShareAction, Ethical Consumer, or Good With Money often offer helpful breakdowns.
    • Choose simplicity. Sometimes the most ethical choices are not financial products at all, but local investments, community banks, or reducing consumption.
    • Keep learning. The terrain is shifting. Staying curious is a powerful act of mindful resistance.

    In dropping the taxonomy, the UK government hasn’t removed our ability to act but it has made the path less guided. That might feel like a setback. Or it might be an invitation: to be more awake, more collaborative, and more creative in how we shape a regenerative financial future.

    The rulebook may be gone but the question remains:

    ‘What kind of economy are we funding with our choices?‘

    Check out our Mindful Money Pages to explore other key themes.

  • When the System Ignores the Science: Reflections on the Net Zero Backlash

    There’s a growing trend that’s hard to ignore: more and more major companies are pulling back from their net zero commitments. When I woke this morning, I noticed another example of HSBC’s decision to exit a sector-wide Net Zero Banking Alliance. This isn’t an isolated move and follows in the footsteps of six other US banks, and it seems to reflect something deeper, a quiet unravelling of the public-facing climate ambition that many organisations once wore like a badge of progressive intent.

    At one level, this seems almost psychotic. The scientific consensus is clear. Climate change is accelerating. The impacts are not theoretical, they’re here. Droughts, floods, biodiversity loss, agricultural instability, we’re living through it. Only this June Europe has seen a spike in deaths related to the high temperature which have continued into July. And yet, even with that knowledge, powerful institutions are rolling back on the very commitments that were designed to address it.

    Why?

    One explanation is structural. The corporate and financial system continues to reward short-term returns over long-term resilience. Even where leaders may genuinely care, they are often bound by internal logic that treat carbon reduction as a burden, not an opportunity. Sustainability remains acceptable only when it doesn’t disrupt the operating model. The moment it slows things down, costs more, or challenges deeply held growth assumptions, it becomes vulnerable.

    Another explanation is the growing belief in technological salvation, such as AI, carbon capture, hydrogen, and fusion. There’s a kind of blind hope in breakthrough innovation, a hope that lets us delay uncomfortable choices in the present. But if we truly believed a breakthrough was coming, wouldn’t we be doubling down on investment, not stepping back?

    The contradiction is clear. This isn’t a failure of data. It’s a failure of alignment between our economic rules and ecological reality. It’s a systemic disconnect, and it’s painful to watch.

    As someone working within a large public institution, I feel this tension regularly. I see the dissonance. I hear the language of ambition, and sometimes I see the courage behind it. But I also see how fragile these commitments can be when the winds change. And like many others, I sometimes wonder: where will real change come from?

    If there’s any hope that feels real right now, it may not come from the top. It may come from smaller, less system-bound organisations, like local networks, B Corps, cooperatives, regenerative farms, mission-led SMEs. These are places where the paradigm hasn’t fully hardened into quarterly reporting cycles and shareholder appeasement. They might be able to live closer to reality, building economies and cultures that regenerate rather than extract.

    This takes me back to some of the reflections shared in the book Small is Beautiful by E.F. Schumacher. In it, the idea of human-scale, values-led economic structures is explored where technology and organisation serve people and the planet, rather than the other way around. Schumacher didn’t just critique large-scale economics; he proposed new forms of corporate entities that might hold space for right livelihood, social well-being, and environmental stewardship. In the current context, this vision feels more relevant than ever.

    But from a systems perspective, there’s a deeper question. Will these smaller actors carry enough weight to shift the paradigm itself? Or will the system only change when it’s forced to when something breaks so clearly and undeniably that there’s no way back?

    I worry that it may take a moment of shock and awe to jolt the world out of its current groove. I hope, deeply, that such a moment isn’t too devastating when it comes.

    And yet, one strangely positive outcome of this net zero backlash is that it strips away the illusion. Where once there were glossy reports and green logos masking fragile ambition, now there is clarity. The rollback, in some cases, reveals the truth that was always just beneath the surface. And with that truth comes a new kind of power. The power to choose more wisely where we place our trust, our energy, and our money.

    Until then, I believe our work is to keep the thread alive.

    • To question.
    • To care.
    • To act from integrity even when the system doesn’t reward it.

    And to stay human in the middle of all this complexity.