Accessing Sustainability

A praxeological approach to buying sustainable food among students in Paris

Anke Brons Wageningen University, Environmental Policy Group In cooperation with INRA, Ivry-sur-Seine 18 May 2016

Abstract: This thesis examines access to sustainable food by studying the practice of buying sustainable (i.e. environmentally friendly) food among students in Paris. Theoretically, this thesis is inspired by practice theory. Methodologically, the practice was mapped by means of semi-structured interviews complemented by participant observation. Analysing the results of this sample led to a typology of three types of students, i.e. the food environmentalists, the balancing environmentalists and the comprehensive environmentalists. These types were categorized based on their trajectories into the practice of buying sustainable food, and were classified through markers borrowed from practice theory, i.e. mode of recruitment, mode of engagement, degree of commitment and bundles of practice. Importantly, each of the types had their own distinct access issues that correlated with these markers, rendering a general conclusion about accessing sustainable food in Paris difficult. Rather, this thesis illustrates that the extent to which people are dedicated towards preserving the environment influences their willingness to go out of their way to arrive at buying sustainable food, and in this line also shapes their access issues. Understanding access therefore means seeing the embeddedness of the practice in a network of socially shared tastes and meanings, knowledge and skills, and materials and infrastructure. What matters towards enabling access, then, is better aligning the various practices associated with buying sustainable food and their temporalities and rhythms with the lifestyle of students. The student AMAPs (‘Associations pour le Maintien d'une Agriculture Paysanne’; French version of a vegetable box scheme) appear to be promising in this regard as a distribution channel for buying sustainable food.

Résumé : Ce mémoire examine l'accès à une alimentation respectueuse de l’environnement en étudiant les pratiques d’achat parmi les étudiants à Paris. Théoriquement, ce mémoire est inspiré par la théorie des pratiques. Méthodologiquement, la pratique a été cartographiée au moyen d'entretiens semi-structurés complétés par l'observation participante. L'analyse des résultats de cet échantillon a conduit à une typologie de trois types d'étudiants, à savoir les écologistes alimentaires, les écologistes équilibrés et les écologistes complets. Ces types ont été classés en fonction de leurs trajectoires dans la pratique de l'achat alimentaire respectueux de l’environnement, et ont été distingués par des marqueurs empruntés à la théorie des pratiques, à savoir le mode de recrutement (mode of recruitment), le mode d'engagement (mode of engagement), le degré de volonté (degree of commitment) et l’existence d’ensembles de pratiques (bundles of practice). Chacun des types avait ses propres problèmes d'accès spécifiques qui étaient en lien avec ces marqueurs, ce qui rend difficile une conclusion générale sur l'accès à l'alimentation respectueuse de l’environnement à Paris. Ce mémoire montre au contraire que la mesure dans laquelle une personne se consacre à la préservation de l'environnement influe sa volonté de faire des efforts pour arriver à acheter de l’alimentation respectueuse de l’environnement et conformément influe aussi sur ses problèmes d'accès. Pour comprendre l'accès il faut donc voir l'intégration de la pratique dans un réseau des goûts socialement partagés et des significations, des connaissances et des compétences, et des objets et des infrastructures. Ce qui importe alors pour permettre l'accès est de mieux faire converger les différentes pratiques associées à l'achat de l’alimentation respectueuse de l’environnement et leurs temporalités et rythmes avec le mode de vie des étudiants. Les AMAP étudiantes (Associations Pour le Maintien d'Agriculture Paysanne) semblent prometteuses à cet égard comme un canal de distribution pour l'achat d’une alimentation respectueuse de l’environnement.

Contents

Abstract ...... 2 Abbreviations, figures, tables and appendices ...... 5 1. Introduction ...... 6 1.1 Access to sustainable food ...... 7 1.2 Sustainable food ...... 8 1.3 Case study ...... 9 2. Methods ...... 11 2.1 Methodology ...... 11 2.2 Methods ...... 16 2.2.1 Literature review ...... 16 2.2.2 Fieldwork ...... 16 2.3 Limitations ...... 20 3. Theoretical framework ...... 21 3.1 Practice theory ...... 21 3.2 Practice theory and sustainable consumption ...... 24 3.3 Practice theory and transition theory ...... 27 3.4 Operationalization ...... 29 4. Case study background ...... 31 4.1 Organic labelling in France ...... 31 4.2 Organic food channels in France ...... 32 4.3 Attitudes towards the environment ...... 35 4.4 The French student...... 36 5. Results ...... 38 5.1 General characteristics ...... 38 5.1.1 Sample ...... 38 5.1.2 Sustainable food ...... 39 5.1.3 Channels ...... 39 5.2 Typology ...... 41 5.2.1 The food environmentalist ...... 47 5.2.2 The balancing environmentalist ...... 52 5.2.3 The comprehensive environmentalist ...... 57 5.3 The role of information ...... 62 6. Discussion and conclusion ...... 64

6.1 What does the practice of buying sustainable food look like among Parisian students? ..... 64 6.1.1 Evaluating the typology markers ...... 65 6.1.2 Practices or practitioners? ...... 66 6.1.3 Teleoaffectivity of the practice ...... 68 6.2 Which elements constituting access are considered important by the participants in this practice? ...... 69 6.3 How does the practice of buying sustainable food fit into a larger bundle of practice? ...... 71 References ...... 73 APPENDIX 1: Message for recruiting participants ...... 79 APPENDIX 2: Interview guide [French and English] ...... 80 APPENDIX 3: Codes ...... 83 APPENDIX 4: Overview of interviewees (organized per type) ...... 84

Abbreviations, figures, tables and appendices

List of abbreviations

ALISS ‘Alimentation et Sciences Sociales’ Food and social sciences AMAP ‘Associations pour le Maintien d'une Agriculture Paysanne’ Associations for the continuation of a peasant agriculture BDD Bureau du Développement Durable’ Bureau of sustainable development CRÉDOC ‘Centre de Recherche pour l'Étude et l'Observation des Conditions de Vie’ Research center for the study and observation of living conditions CSA Community Supported Agriculture INRA ‘Institut National de la Recherche Agronomique’ French national Institute for agricultural research INSEE ‘Institut National de la Statistique et des Études Économiques’ National institute of statistics and economic studies OVE ‘Observatoire national de la Vie Etudiante’ National observatory of student life REFEDD ‘Réseau Français des Etudiants pour le Développement Durable’ French nation-wide student association for sustainable development WWOOF World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms

List of figures and tables

Table 1 Key elements in the understanding of practices (Gram-Hanssen, 2010) p.15 Table 2 Typology p.44 Table 3 Trajectories (Lamine, 2008) p.44 Table 4 Finances p.50

Figure 1 Practice (Spurling et al., 2013) p.25 Figure 2 Conceptual model for studying practices (Spaargaren & Van Vliet, 2000) p.26 Figure 3 Development of organic market in France 1999-2014 (AgenceBio, 2015) p.31 Figure 4 Organic food channels in France (AgenceBio, 2014) p.33 Figure 5 Organic food sales in France (AgenceBio, 2014) p.33 Figure 6 Distribution of organic stores in Parisian region (Nielsen, 2013) p.34

List of appendices

1. Message for recruiting participants (p.79) 2. Interview guide (p.80) 3. Codes (p.83) 4. Overview of interviewees (p.84)

1. Introduction A call for the production and consumption of more sustainable food is increasingly heard. In order to achieve this aim, the crucial question of what exactly motivates people to act environmentally and what in turn withholds them from pro-environmental behaviour must be answered. A broad range of explanations have resulted in a large variety of different policies and plans having been introduced over the past decades, such as sustainability labelling schemes, organic farmers markets, increased offer of organic food in supermarkets, etc. However, numerous barriers have withheld these policies from reaching their desired ends of more sustainable food production and consumption.

Taking the first example of food labelling, consumers tend to be confused by the abundance of distinct food labels (Oosterveer & Sonnenfeld, 2012). According to some, improved information provision on the (lack of) sustainability of food is supposed to have an effect on consumer behaviour – i.e. making consumers buy more sustainable products. In this light, current inadequacy of consumer information on their food’s sustainability is thus considered as the main hindrance in the transition to more sustainable food consumption (see e.g. MacRae, Szabo, Anderson, Louden, & Trillo, 2012). Plans for sustainability meta labelling have been proposed to replace this label profusion, but have also been met with critical reactions – see e.g. Dendler (2014), who argues that the institutionalization of such a meta label might suffer from severe legitimacy issues.

Behind these ideas on and approaches to the role of improved information provision lays the assumption of a conscious consumer who makes rational decisions based on information and price. This customer will act upon the knowledge labels provided him or her with and will use them to buy more sustainable products. A danger here, however, is the so-called attitude-behaviour gap, or value-action gap (Kollmuss & Agyeman, 2002), a concept from environmental psychology. As Kollmuss and Agyeman (2002) point out, referring to Fietkau and Kessel (1981), a direct relationship between environmental knowledge and pro-environmental behaviour cannot be found. Instead of assuming rational action from the side of the consumer, Kollmuss and Agyeman also pay attention to other internal factors such as personality traits, and external factors like social and cultural influences, which are often found lacking in social psychology literature on sustainable consumption. Examples of this are studies such as De Boer, Schösler, and Aiking (2014) (see also De Boer, Hoogland, & Boersema, 2007; Hoek et al., 2011; Hoogland, de Boer, & Boersema, 2005), who mainly conduct (quantitative) research through questionnaires, in which consumers are to indicate for instance whether they would be prepared to adopt meatless meals. However, these types of studies are likely to measure attitude rather than actual behaviour, and are prone to overlooking external barriers which also influence consumer behaviour, such as the availability of sufficient choice in meat substitutes or the proximity of supermarkets offering sustainable alternatives.

The attention to these types of external elements influencing consumer behaviour is where practice theory comes in. Whereas social psychology literature largely emphasizes changes in agency, practice theory aims to more thoroughly take into account structure as well when thinking about individual behaviour. Observable behaviour is not simply the result of an individual’s values and attitudes, but rather it is the visible aspect of social phenomena (Spurling, McMeekin, Shove, Southerton, & Welch, 2013). What this entails, among other things, is that the call for more sustainable food implies not only a change on the consumption side but also on the provision side. Sustainable consumption is as much a matter of individual behaviour as it is of the supply system: the availability and access to sustainable food are crucial for moving towards more sustainable consumption. This is what

Oosterveer and Sonnenfeld (2012) also emphasize, when looking not only at the role of consumers, but also at the contribution of producers and retailers in the global food provision.

The issue of accessing sustainable food, then, is best considered from this practice theory perspective. This theoretical lens focuses on the ways in which access to sustainable food is organized by key actors in the systems of food provision, while at the same time emphasizing the important role citizen-consumers have as agents of change.

1.1 Access to sustainable food Consumers’ concerns about the environmental and health implications of the food they buy and eat have increased, with notions of ecological citizenship and political consumerism becoming more popular. This corresponded with the growth of the market for organic consumption over the last two decades (Kilcher et al., 2011; Miele, 2001). Since 1999, the global organic products market more than trebled (Kilcher et al., 2011). Nevertheless, in Europe, a growing disparity between supply and demand of organic products can be observed - most organic products that are produced in Europe are exported to other continents. Although production has increased rapidly over the past years, consumption of organic food in EU countries still remains very low. Less than one percent of the total European food market consists of organic products. When it comes to the marketing channel of these organic products, more than half of these products are offered to the consumer through conventional supermarket chains. In the southern European countries, however, more specialized organic markets are leading as a marketing channel (Kilcher et al., 2011).

The relationship between conventional agriculture and organic farming has been dynamic. As Miele (2001) points out, initially, organic farming was considered as an alien influence on the agricultural sector, which differed significantly from conventional agriculture in terms of production standards. This meant that a wholly alternative set of organizations and networks of producers, processors, retailers and consumers were created. The relationship between these mainstream and alternative farming institutions has developed differently in distinct contexts. Miele (2001), referring to Michelsen, Lynggaard, Padel, and Foster (2001), identifies three types of interrelationships between mainstream and alternative forms of agriculture: pure co-operation, pure competition, and creative conflict. The latter relationship is the one where organic farming is expected to flourish most. Alternative, organic food systems mostly occur as farmers markets, community gardens or community supported agriculture (CSA) initiatives.

In Europe, the growing attention for sustainable food co-occurred with the development of more urbanized societies. This process has partly led to the rise of social and economic inequality in cities. Moreover, expanding cities have run into new infrastructural challenges. These developments together present new questions and issues with respect to the accessibility of sustainable food. Organic food, as a healthy and sustainable alternative to conventional food, is not on offer in some (urban) areas. These zones are often referred to as ‘food deserts’. Food deserts or ‘food gaps’ (Winne, 2008) are defined by the USDA Economic Research service as “areas with limited access to affordable and nutritious food, particularly areas composed of predominately lower income neighbourhoods and communities” (USDA, 2009). As Cutter (1995) elaborates, a major factor in the social vulnerability of the population groups in most of these regions is lack of access to resources as well as infrastructure and transportation.

The situation concerning food deserts is slightly different in France. An important contribution in this regard has been made recently by Caillavet, Kyureghian, Nayga, Ferrant, and Chauvin (2015), who conducted extensive quantitative research into the effect of access to healthy food on dietary choices. Their research took place in Paris, with a geographic focus both on central and on suburban areas. Their results indicate that it is not the amount of stores per se but rather the total space of stores that primarily leads to an increase in individuals consuming the advised amount of healthy food (i.e. in this case: fruits and vegetables). In other words, fewer but larger retail outlets have a positive effect on healthy food consumption. Additionally, Caillavet et al. found that increased dispersion of food supply will improve the consumption of fruit and vegetables in the central areas of Paris, but that such dispersal will not have the same effects in Parisian suburbs. These conclusions, then, contribute to a somewhat critical attitude towards the value of the notion of food deserts in a French urban context.

In short, we can observe a growing organic market, combined with an increase in urbanization which may or may not exacerbate inequality. These developments lead to questions on the role of access in the practice of buying sustainable food. What does this practice look like? Which elements are of importance in constituting access? These questions will be taken up and answered for the population of students in Paris. This case study will be undertaken in the light of the theoretical framework of practice theory, which will be elaborated below.

1.2 Sustainable food When doing research on ‘sustainable food’, questions about the precise definition and interpretation of this notion are inevitable. What characterizes food that is sustainable, and moreover, what exactly is sustainability? To start with the last question, sustainability is usually conceptualized as consisting of three pillars: economic development, social development and environmental protection. These three pillars together constitute sustainable development, which has been famously defined by the Brundtland report as development that “meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs” (Brundtland et al., 1987). This thesis will focus on the environmental understanding of sustainability.

To further clarify the differences between the three types of sustainability, it is useful to look at Goodland (1995)’s important contribution on ‘The concept of environmental sustainability’. In this article, Goodland distinguishes between four types of capital that must be sustained, i.e. natural, human, human-made and social capital, and compares the three sustainabilities based on their principal focus on what to sustain. Firstly, environmental sustainability is primarily concerned with the maintenance of natural capital, and is defined by Goodland as “a set of constraints on the four major activities regulating the scale of the human economic subsystem: the use of renewable and non-renewable resources on the source side, and pollution and waste assimilation on the sink side” (p.10). Secondly, social sustainability strives to conserve social as well as human capital. Lastly, concerning economic sustainability, which was originally solely focused on the preservation of human-made capital, Goodman argues for a revised definition of ‘income’ to also embrace the maintenance of natural, social and human capital. This contention is chiefly based on the observation of non-substitutability, i.e. that natural capital ultimately cannot be substituted by human-made capital.

When it comes to applying this value of environmental sustainability in practice, public understandings of what constitutes this category of environmentally sustainable food vary significantly. Common perceptions include but are not limited to: organically produced food (as elaborated under 1.1), locally produced foods, package-free food, home-grown food, seasonal fruits and vegetables, and less meat. In order to capture the general opinion of what defines sustainable food rather than to delimit its range to only include for instance organic food, in this research the notion of ‘sustainable food’ is not further delineated beyond the definition of environmental sustainability proposed by Goodman. What is of interest, rather, is the way in which the consumer understands the idea of sustainable food and how they shape and fashion their actions to reflect their concern with environmental sustainability. Which everyday ‘foodways’ characterize an environmentally conscious consumer and how do they make sense of sustainable food? These are some of the questions that will be addressed in this thesis.

1.3 Case study Praxeological research is site research. Schatzki (2003) provides an elaborate description of how to research one such site or practice by means of a case study:

“The principal tasks are fourfold: (1) delimiting whatever activity episodes (if any) compose an event or phenomenon of interest; (2) uncovering the practice-arrangement mesh, net of meshes, and/or confederation of nets (a) of which these activity episodes or the phenomenon of interest is a component or, conversely, (b) that composes the phenomenon in question (as in the case of, e.g., government); (3) uncovering the further meshes, nets, and confederations to which this mesh, net, or confederation is connected, intentionally or unintentionally; and (4) tracing the chains of human and nonhuman action that, in circulating within, passing through, and linking all these meshes, nets, or confederations (a) render the latter harmonious, competitive, or conflictual and (b) either lead to and spiral away from the social event of interest or maintain or transform the target social phenomenon” (p.197-8).

Before following this recommendation, the ‘event or phenomenon of interest’ was determined. To delimit the topic to a manageable case study, I chose to focus one particular element of a sustainable food consumption pattern, i.e. the practice of ‘buying sustainable food’. This means that the emphasis of this research is on the moment of purchase rather than on for instance the actual consumption or the waste disposal of the food in question.

The case that will be studied for its participation in the practice of buying sustainable food is the population of students in Paris. Students provide for an interesting population due to their characteristics of being young, idealistic and often living on a tight budget. The latter attribute for instance begs the question of the role and importance of financial resources in constituting access to sustainable food. Paris is a city known for its generally high cost of living, with elevated rents as well as costly groceries. This also means that due to space constraints students may not have fridges, freezers or ovens at their disposal in their apartments, which materially influences their patterns of consumption. Additionally, researching students is particularly interesting due to the transitory nature of the phase they are in. Having recently left their parents’ home with its specific norms, values and general lifestyle, students enter a stage where they are faced with the challenge of developing their own worldview, habits and routines. During this exploratory phase they may enrol in practices which they will continue to take part in for decades after. Finally, this population was also

9 selected for the relatively easy accessibility of research subjects due to the network supplied by the ALISS research unit (Alimentation et Sciences Sociales, INRA, see: http://www6.versailles- grignon.inra.fr/aliss).

The central research question for that will be address through this case study is: What do patterns of buying sustainable food look like among Parisian students?

This question will be answered by means of the following subquestions:

A) What does the practice of buying sustainable food look like among Parisian students? B) Which elements constituting access are considered important by the participants in this practice? C) How does the practice of buying sustainable food fit into a larger bundle of practices?

The remainder of this thesis is structured as follows. The next section, chapter 2, provides an outline of both methodology and actual methods used. Chapter 3 introduces the theoretical framework used in this thesis, elaborating practice theory and its application to the theme of sustainable consumption. In the fourth chapter, general statistics and characteristics of the case study at hand are provided. Chapter 5 presents the results of the empirical research and proposes a typology. Finally, chapter 6 provides a discussion and conclusion section.

2. Methods This chapter starts with an outline of the type of methodology that derives from a practice theoretical approach. After this general introduction to praxeological methodology, the second section applies these methodological considerations to the case at hand in order to arrive at a set of empirical methods that serve to answer the main research question.

2.1 Methodology Practice theory contains many innovative insights into and provides enriching perspectives at social reality. Despite this multitude of theoretical promises, however, practice theory still faces large challenges empirically. At least two reasons can be pointed out for this empirical underdevelopment.

First of all, the plurality of practice theory approaches stands in the way of establishing a univocal methodology for empirical research. Although all practice theorists have in common their focus on practice as the primary unit of analysis, variations in precise emphases abound. For instance, some thinkers place a stronger focus on the individual agent than others, whereas again others disagree on the stress placed on the determinative capacity of materiality within practices. With such divergence in conceptualizing the practice and its elements, methodological unequivocality proves to be difficult.

Secondly and more importantly, practice theory is first and foremostly an ontological endeavour. Ontology is a branch of metaphysics which is concerned with questions on the nature of existence, and primarily aims to answer the question of what kinds of things or entities exist in the universe. Practice theory, then, can be seen as a new and distinct ‘social ontology’, which is most explicitly formulated as such by Schatzki (2002). A social ontology, in his terms, refers to “ideas about (…) the nature, character, or basic features, structures, or elements-constituents of social life (…)[;] a statement or understanding of the nature, character, or basic features, structures, or constituents of this (…)[;] an explication or understanding of the basal ‘what there is’ to social existence” (Schatzki). Schatzki subsequently posits practice theory as a specific type of social ontology, i.e. as a ‘site ontology’. According this ontology, “the site of social life is a mesh of orders and practices” (Schatzki, 2002, p.xxii). The praxeological (or at least, the Schatzkian) answer to the central ontological question, therefore, is as follows: the basic kinds of entities that exist in social life are social practices as well as social orders.

In addition, when mentioning three different forms in which any social ontology can be justified, Schatzki (2002) pays particular attention to the role to empiricism. Justifications for ontologies, according to him, can first of all be found in the articulation of theoretical arguments, secondly in convincingly describing empirical phenomena in terms of the ontology, and thirdly in presenting insightful descriptions, explanations, and interpretations of the social based on the particular ontology (p.xvi). Schatzki also adds, however, that the role of empirical phenomena in the justification of ontologies is different from its function in explanatory theories. As Schatzki puts it,

“[o]ntologies are not explanatory theories. (…) They do not specify general frameworks for explaining social phenomena, though they do provide explanatory resources and can also ground general pronouncements about explanation. (…) Ontological accounts do not qua ontological provide explanations or predictions. Empirical phenomena cannot, as a result, serve as evidence for them.” (2002, p.xvi-xvii, emphasis added).

Despite this somewhat ambiguous evaluation of the place of empiricism, Schatzki hastens to add that empirical clarification is not an insignificant task and that it should be carried out to support social ontologies. He states, referring to Barnes (1995), that “social theory is sterile in the absence of carefully investigated empirical examples” (Schatzki, 2002, p.xix).

This brief outline of Schatzki’s view on practice theory and the role of empiric observation illustrate the difficulties with developing a definite and clear methodology for undertaking empirical research from practice theory. In line with this issue, a very recent contribution to the methodological challenges of praxeological research has been made by Schmidt (forthcoming). According to him, practice-based research means focusing on the dynamic nature and processuality of practices, and rejecting the strict dichotomy of doing versus thinking. Moreover, Schmidt speaks of praxeology’s ‘negative epistemology’, as opposed to prevailing positivist ideas on the relationship between theory and empirical testing. The latter hold that “the level of empirical observation and that of theoretical interpretation or explanation may be clearly distinguished, and thus that purely theoretical statements may be tested against separate, purely empirical observations” (Joas & Knöbl, 2009, p.8). This clear-cut distinction between theory and empirical observation does not apply to practice theory, Schmidt argues. Rather, “theory and empirical data are considered to permeate each other” (Schmidt, forthcoming, p.9).

Schmidt goes on with a more pragmatic approach to the methodological consequences of this observation. He dismisses the question of the ontological realness of a unit like a social practice as irrelevant, instead emphasizing the analytical insights gained from seeing an object of inquiry as an ‘on-going practical accomplishment of different participants and carriers to the practices’ (idem, p.13). In other words, “[p]ractices should not be treated as an empirical reality, but as a concept for mapping and analytical understanding of empirical social reality” (idem, p.13). This also implies that social practices as such cannot be observed, but that observability needs to be manufactured or constructed by means of appropriate observation methods. Such a suitable praxeological methodology consists in paying attention to both the situated and the trans-situative accomplishment of a practice (note the similarity to Nicolini (2013)’s zooming in and zooming out). Looking at the situatedness of a practice entails ‘siting’ the practice – a term borrowed from Schatzki, which means “to empirically localize complex and global formations, that are simultaneously taking place at different sites, and to render them observable” (Schmidt, forthcoming, p.16). Studying the trans-situative dimension of a practice involves following the linkages, associations and connections of a practice. Schmidt concludes by putting the concept of intelligibility at the centre of what constitutes a praxeological approach: the key question for a practice theory methodology should be how subjects render the practice intelligible, i.e. “to always consider the symbolic or discursive meanings they have acquired and to investigate how they are observed and understood by the participants” (Schmidt, forthcoming, p.17).

Nevertheless, despite these difficulties with visibility and observability of practices, the importance of providing empirical examples to any social theory and thus also to practice theory has been made explicit. In order to facilitate this empirical undertaking, attempts at establishing a practice theoretical methodology have been made, most notably by Nicolini (2013) but also by Bueger (2014), both of whom will be elaborated here.

First of all, Nicolini (2013) proposes a ‘toolkit approach’, which builds upon the richness of the plurality that characterizes practice theory, taking valuable elements out of each of the contemporary practice theory programs (including among others Foucault, Giddens, Bourdieu and Schatzki). He suggests two basic moves, namely zooming in (concentrating on the accomplishments of practice) and zooming out (concentrating on the relationships between practices in space and time). Within the first move, eight different foci for zooming in are mentioned. These are: 1) sayings and doings; 2) the interactional order; 3) timing and tempo; 4) bodily choreography; 5) tools, artefacts, and mediation work; 6) practical concerns; 7) the tension between creativity and normativity; and finally 8) processes of legitimation and stabilization. Different methods are used to cover each of these themes, varying from participant observation to conversation analysis and qualitative interviews.

The second move, then, i.e. zooming out, requires that practices be studied relationally, in the wider picture. This means among other things comparing and contrasting different instances of one particular practice in different locations, following linkages between practices and studying the effects of these associations. Nicolini concludes by stating that the study of practice is rhizomatic: it allows for multiplicity and has neither beginning nor end, nor hierarchical levels. Studying practice therefore requires sequential selective repositioning, for instance by using different methods of observation.

A critical note can be placed here regarding the originality of Nicolini’s second recommended methodological procedure. Whereas the first move of zooming in and its proposed eight points of foci for research is specific and unique for practice theory, the second movement of zooming out seems less innovative. Similarities can be noted with for instance grounded theory (Glaser & Strauss, 1967). This strand of theory is also characterized by a multiplicity of data collection methods and a rhizomatic structure of the study, with a continuous revisiting of the data throughout the research process. Additionally, grounded theory’s focus on ‘thick description’ Geertz (1994) which is concerned with uncovering meaning for individuals is similar to practice theory’s concern with discovering what makes sense for someone to do (Schatzki, based on Heidegger) – which can be explained by both theoretical approaches being partly inspired by symbolic interactionism.

In addition to Nicolini’s toolkit approach for practice theory-based methodology, Bueger (2014) also makes an effort to describe the ‘practice of doing practice theory driven research’. He refers to this undertaking as ‘praxiography’ (a term borrowed from Mol, 2002). Praxiography is concerned with the ‘graphy’ (describing, recording and writing) of ‘praxis’ (practice). The central claim of praxiography is that “’the social’, ‘the cultural’, and ‘the political’ are based primarily and in the last instance in implicit knowledge and meaning” (p.386). Since the aim of practice research is to uncover meaning, an interpretative and qualitative research approach is required. Bueger identifies three main challenges for praxiography, i.e. (1) accessing this implicit knowledge; (2) the problem of scale; and (3) the problem of contingency and change. In order to address these issues, three praxiographic research strategies are proposed. The first one is to focus on ‘sites’ (a certain unit hosting a ‘dense ensemble of practices’) in order to allow for transcending scale; the second approach is to study crisis and controversies, because that is where implicit knowledge is challenged and often becomes articulated; and the third strategy consists in following objects (technologies, documents and/or linguistic constructs). Each of these strategies can be combined. Lastly, making the step towards how to collect actual data, Bueger mentions three praxiographic methods: participant observation,

(expert) interviews and documents analysis. Revisiting Nicolini (2009), Bueger ends on the note that plurality in methodology is required: “because of its multifaceted and complex nature, practice can never be captured by a single method or reproduced through one single style of writing” (Nicolini, 2009, p.196).

Moreover, several other scholars have either applied practice theory methodologically or have drawn up insightful analytical tools for studying practice, of which I will highlight a number here. Firstly, Evans (2014) has made an empirical contribution to practice theory research on the topic of food waste. His principal mode of investigation is ethnography, as he argues that the home is the primary site of consumption. This is why, according to him, research should start in the private domain, behind closed doors, where one can observe the practices of everyday life. Basing himself on Schatzki, Evans believes that a praxeological orientation requires a focus on “doings” and on “sayings”. The observation of these doings and sayings is most meticulously accounted for by ethnography: a “methodological approach that locates talk within situated action over an extended period of time” (Evans, 2014, p.22). Evans makes sure to not only focus on the agency of the individuals in the household he follows and studies, but to also pay attention to the ‘infrastructure of provision’ that plays a large role in food waste (see also ‘material-functional structure’, Crivits and Paredis, figure 1) as well as to social factors that partly explain food waste (see also ‘socio-cultural structure, idem). The role of this infrastructure of provision becomes for instance apparent in supermarkets’ limited options for personal choice of quantity, which results in consumers throwing out the food they had to buy due to quantity constraints but did not actually need. On the other hand, social factors that determine individual food wasting behaviour are for instance households that do not want to donate food or dishes to others because of social anxiety about the quality of the food they prepared. Deducing these various factors (material, individual, social) from ethnographic research and combining them into a comprehensive explanation for food waste, Evans provides a valuable illustration of how practice theory can be successfully used as a basis for methodology.

Furthermore, Wertheim-Heck (2015) makes another valuable addition with her empirical application of practice theory onto vegetable shopping practices in Vietnam. In her methodology, she also refers to Nicolini’s above double move (zooming in and zooming out) and links it to the distinction between practice-as-performance and practice-as-entity (see e.g. Spurling et al., 2013). From this perspective, zooming in equals studying the performance of the practice, i.e. individuals’ observable behaviour, whereas zooming out refers to examining the practice-as-entity, i.e. the ‘invisible’ or physically intangible, immaterial aspects of a practice.

Additionally, Gram‐Hanssen (2010) provides in his article on energy consumption practices an insightful scheme with key elements of practices as conceptualized by the most current practice theorists (i.e. Reckwitz, 2002; Schatzki, 2002; Shove & Pantzar, 2005; Warde, 2005, see table 2). Combining these various constituents from the different theories, Gram‐Hanssen (2010) arrives at a list of four elements, i.e. (1) know-how and embodied habits; (2) institutionalized knowledge; (3) engagements; and (4) technologies.

Schatzki (2002) Warde (2005) Shove & Pantzar (2005) Reckwitz (2002)

Practical Understandings Competences Body understanding Mind The agent Structure/process Rules Procedures Knowledge

Teleo-affective Engagement Meanings Discourse/language structures

Items of Products Things consumption Table 1 Key elements in the understanding of practices (Gram-Hanssen, 2010)

Finally, building on this scheme, Crivits and Paredis (2013) designed and conceptualized an explanatory practice framework for analysing local food systems. According to them, it is difficult to straightforwardly extract empirical categories from the definitions of practice as classified by Gram- Hanssen, as these are rather abstract and subject to interpretation. Due to this heterogeneous and non-essentialist nature of practices, pinning down empirical categories for describing a practice proves to be challenging. This leads Crivits and Paredis (2013) to claim that central to practice research is the “co-determination of theory (conceptualization of contingency in practices) and the object of theory (categories of specific routine behaviour)” (p.5). Therefore, the precise descriptive classifications are partly determined by the specific practice under investigation.

Moreover, in attempting to compare and contrast two competing practices, Crivits and Paredis bring in transition theory and its distinction between a niche (i.e. an alternative mode of doing and saying) and a regime (i.e. the dominant mode of doing and saying, see Smith, Stirling, & Berkhout, 2005), which will be elaborated later. Both of these types of practices can be analysed on the basis of a three-tiered framework proposed by Crivits and Paredis, with agency on the one hand, and two types of structure on the other hand, i.e. material-functional structure and socio-cultural structure. The former type of structure primarily reflects the last row in Gram-Hanssen’s overview of practice elements (i.e. the material dimension; see table 1), whereas the second (socio-cultural structure) chiefly accounts for the immaterial dimension of the practice. Comparing the niche and the regime practice on buying food according to this framework provided Crivitz and Paredis with valuable insights into change and stability of both practices.

In sum, a hands-on, straightforward practice theoretical methodology turns out to be difficult to establish due to the eclectic nature of practice theory. Nevertheless, what can be extracted from the scant literature on practice-inspired methodology is mostly a twofold focus, both on the practice itself and on the inherent relatedness and interconnectedness of one practice to other practices. Additionally, another characteristic of praxeological research proves to be methodological variance. This means for instance complementing participant observation with interviews and questionnaires with participants in the practice. Furthermore, in its attempt at overcoming an individualistic bias, data collection should not be limited to just the ‘demand’ side of a practice (i.e. the consumer), but should include all participants in the practice. This implies also incorporating the ‘supply’ side (i.e. the system of provision), which will be accounted for through ethnographic fieldwork. By following the

15 participants of the practice in their shopping at sustainable food venues, insights can be gained into the (infra)structure of the practice and the influence thereof on participants’ behaviour. Finally, the special attention paid to the notion of access in this research also contributes to taking into account the system of provision in structuring and shaping the practice of buying sustainable food.

2.2 Methods After these general directions for methodology based on a practice theoretical perspective, the application of these methodological guidelines to the case at hand will be outlined here. Two types of methods have been employed in this thesis research. The first method is a literature review and the second method is fieldwork, i.e. interviews complemented by participant observation. The specific use of these methods will be elaborated here.

2.2.1 Literature review A literature review has been conducted on two dimensions, i.e. both theoretically and empirically. First of all, an overview of the most relevant literature on practice theory in general and sustainable consumption practices more specifically has been read and evaluated (section 3). This serves as a theoretical framework as well as a source for establishing key elements and components of a practice, based on which the practice of buying sustainable food can be analysed.

Secondly, zooming in on the case at hand, a more empirically oriented review of relevant statistics is also included (section 4). The most frequently used sustainable food channels in France will be mapped with their general offer of products. In addition, common attitudes of French consumers towards the environment have been elaborated, as well as more specific food behaviour and habits among French students. Data for this section is mostly drawn from statistics provided by AgenceBio (the central French agency for the development and promotion of organic farming); CRÉDOC (Centre de Recherche pour l'Étude et l'Observation des Conditions de Vie; Research center for the study and observation of living conditions); and OVI (Observatoire national de la Vie Étudiante; National observatory of student life).

2.2.2 Fieldwork To complement these theoretical parts, empirical data has also been gathered, through two qualitative data collection procedures: semi-structured interviews, complemented by participant observation.

Interviews

Firstly, the main source of qualitative data was provided through semi-structured interviews. These were conducted with students engaging in the practice of buying sustainable food. Based on the literature on practice theory in general and on sustainable consumption practice theories more specifically, an interview guide had been established (see Appendix 2). Gram‐Hanssen (2010)’s overview of general elements of a practice (see table 2) was used to combine the most prominent practice theories and their proposed components of a practice. This led to four main elements: (1) know-how and embodied habits; (2) institutionalized knowledge; (3) engagements; and (4) materials (N.B.: I opted for ‘materials’ rather than technology here, as Gram-Hanssen does. The reason for this is that the practice under investigation in this thesis (buying sustainable food) is not a very

16 technology-oriented one, in which it differs from Gram-Hanssens’s own research on the practice of energy consumption. For studying the practice of buying sustainable food, then, referring to the fourth element as ‘materials’ appears to be more comprehensive than ‘technology’). These four components of the practice will be elaborated here.

Analysis grid

1. Know-how and embodied habits. In order to measure the first element, interview questions are concerned with measuring mostly factual information on when, where and how often participants do their groceries and which foods are bought sustainably. By answering these questions, insight can be gained into the embodied habits or routines of the practitioners participating in buying sustainable food. Additionally, in order to compare the practice of buying sustainable food to other, commonly related practices such as ‘cooking’ or ‘eating’, questions are also asked about interviewees’ know-how and habits in these practices. These questions also serve towards answering the third subquestion (i.e. How does the practice of buying sustainable food fit into a larger bundle of practices?). The aim of this question is to ‘zoom out’ (Nicolini, 2013) in order to see the interlockedness (Spurling et al., 2013) of the practice of buying sustainable food with other practices. The concept of a bundle of practices Schatzki (2002) is used here, which will be further elaborated in the theoretical framework (section 3). As mentioned before, based on the literature the practice of ‘buying sustainable food’ is hypothesized to link with other environmentally friendly practices, e.g. ‘buying sustainable products’ or ‘personal mobility’ (see e.g. Spurling et al., 2013). Finally, from the literature it appears that patterns of sociability can have an effect on food practices (see e.g. Plessz, Dubuisson-Quellier, Gojard, & Barrey, 2014), which is why questions on cooking also target these patterns.

2. Institutionalized knowledge. This element is measured by first of all inquiring after the participants’ own assessment of their knowledge on sustainability, sustainable food and buying sustainable food, as well as after the sources for this acquired knowledge. Moreover, the interviewees’ personal views on what constitutes sustainable food will be inquired after here, by asking which particular elements are of importance for food to be sustainable according to them. This could for instance include the food being organic, locally grown or home-grown or any combination of these requirements.

3. Engagements. This element refers to the teleo-affective structure (Schatzki) and meaning (Shove) of the practice. This component is measured by first of all asking participants about their motivations for buying sustainable food. Additionally, in order to map the teleo- affective structure of the practice, the particular tasks and projects (Schatzki) involved with buying sustainable food are inquired after. These tasks and projects are addressed through questions about the interviewees’ evaluation of the process of buying sustainable food and potential constraints experienced during the process of buying sustainable food.

4. Materials. This last element is addressed in multiple dimensions. Based on the literature, indicators that may be of influence on access to buying sustainable food have been hypothesized. Firstly, in order to evaluate the significance of geographical distance for accessing sustainable food, questions are asked about interviewees’ available means of

transportation, as well as the physical distance between the home and the venue of purchase and the accessibility of the used channel for buying sustainable food by various means of transportation. Secondly, participants’ budgets for food shopping is inquired after as well as to what extent (if any) limited financial means prevent them from buying more sustainable food. Thirdly, another way in which materials may play a role in access to sustainable food is related to the aforementioned housing situation in Paris. Due to high rent prices, Parisian inhabitants and particularly students, who are often on a tight budget, face challenges vis-à-vis spatial arrangements of their rooms and kitchens. Fridges, freezers or ovens may not be present, which has consequences for stocking space and types of products bought. Interview questions therefore also address the housing situation of the participants.

A note must be made here on the translations and definitions of ‘sustainable food’. The word ‘sustainable’ as such is not as common in the French language (translation ‘durable’ does exist but it does not quite have the same connotations as it does in English). I choose – in coordination with my (French native) supervisor at INRA, the research institute where I was based during my time in Paris – for a different translation. In my interviews, I asked the participants about “alimentation qui respecte l’environnement”, which translates best as ‘environmentally friendly food’. This translation also established a clearer focus on the environmental interpretation of sustainability (rather than social or economic sustainability; see section 1.2 for a more elaborate description and justification).

Recruitment of participants

Participants for the interviews were recruited in various ways. To start, one researcher (Bérangère Veron) at INRA also taught classes at AgroParisTech, a Parisian higher education institution. I wrote an email introducing my research and calling for interview participants (see Appendix 1), which she consequently forwarded to all of her students. A small number of them replied and in this way I arranged for interviews with them. These students are indicated under “INRA-mail” in the column ‘means of contacting’ in Appendix 4. One other student was also recruited through INRA, but this time through my supervisor (Marie Plessz), who also taught classes and asked around during her classes for interview participants. One student indicated she was willing to participate and consequently I got in touch with her (indicated as “INRA – personal contact” in Appendix 4).

Additionally, student AMAP networks (‘Associations pour le Maintien d'une Agriculture Paysanne’; the French version of community-supported agriculture, which will be explained in more detail in section 4.2) were also contacted by mail to recruit participants. However, only a few participants (n=4) were recruited in this way, as an AMAP only represents one specific channel through which students can buy sustainable food. Student associations at various Parisian universities that were formed around the theme of sustainable development were also contacted. Additionally, the REFEDD (Réseau Français des Etudiants pour le Développement Durable, a pro-environmental association across French universities), was also approached and their Paris-based Facebook group was contacted, still with the same message (Appendix 3). Besides these recruitment strategies, snowball sampling was then also used, by asking the interviewees to contact their own social network in order to find other potential participants in the research.

To test the interview guide, a test interview was conducted with a first year PhD student at INRA, who had also studied in Paris until May 2014. A few changes were made based on this interview, after which the interview guide was ready to be used for the actual research. The test interview was

18 also included in the analysis. As the difference in France between students (bachelor/master) and PhD students is not as clear-cut, I ended up conducting another three interviews with PhD students, which were also included in the analysis and could serve to contrast with the ‘conventional’ (i.e. bachelor and master) students. A total of 19 interviews were conducted, over a period of two months (January and February 2016).

Data analysis

Each of the interviews was transcribed in their original language (French) and uploaded into Weft QDA, a software package for the analysis of qualitative data. The participants were anonymized, and pseudonyms were found in a database of French first names, organized chronologically (https://dataaddict.fr/prenoms/). Codes were drawn up both a priori, based on the theoretical framework provided below, and inductively, grounded in the data (see Appendix 3 for the codes).

All of the interviews (with one exception) were conducted in French. For reasons of readability, however, the citations and extracts in this thesis are in English, with the original French text appearing in footnotes. The translations for these extracts and citations thesis were done by me and afterwards checked and corrected where needed by my supervisor at INRA.

Participant observation

Secondly, to complement the interviews, participant observation of student-consumers shopping for sustainable food was done. This entailed ‘shopping along’: accompanying students in their shopping route through their usual venue for doing groceries. By participating in the practice in this way, observations on the doings and sayings of other participants in the practice could be made. Attention was paid to social aspects such as the actions and interactions that take place in the store, but also to physical aspects such as the accessibility and location of the sustainable products. The shopper was asked to “think aloud” in making choices for particular products rather than other ones, to evaluate characteristics of products such as price and quality, to talk about any frustrations they experience, etc.

The ethnographic guidelines or guiding questions used were based on Nicolini (2013)’s focus points. These include: sayings and doings (What do I need to do when buying sustainable food? What do I hear people say?); timing and tempo (What temporality or rhythm is produced by the practice?); and tools and artefacts (What artefacts are used in the practice? What connections do they establish with other practices?). Further inspiration was drawn from Miller (2013) who establishes a ‘theory of shopping’ based on extensive ethnographical work. Additionally, Dubuisson-Quellier (2006) also wrote in detail about her ‘shopping along’ research in order to draw up an analysis grid for how consumers operate in a situation of choice. Her method consisted of making research participants verbalize as much as possible what they were doing. Central to this method was not inquiring after justification but rather after explication: ‘how’ rather than ‘why’.

N.B. The actual participant observation turned out to be difficult due to the irregularity that characterizes the average lifestyle of students. Since they mostly do not lead planned out or structured lives, most of them did their groceries in an impromptu, spontaneous and sometimes hurried manner as well. This irregularity may be considered typical in terms of temporality of the practice of shopping for the population of students, and precisely this timing aspect made the

19 planned observation through shopping along more difficult than foreseen and resulted in a lower number of observation moments (only two participatory trips were undertaken, of which one took place at the interviewee’s home instead of in the supermarket, with the participant explicating to me why and where she bought the food products present in her kitchen, following Evans (2014). This observation was supplemented by attending the distribution of vegetable boxes at one of the AMAPs (Leg’Ulm, the AMAP of the École Normale Supérieure), which was followed by a public interview session with Patrick Boumard in which questions could be asked about his experiences with the AMAPs he provided for students. Lastly, my own individual trips to organic stores and supermarkets during my stay in Paris also serve as observation material, in which I paid attention to for instance information on origins of products and visibility of organic products.

2.3 Limitations The choice of research subjects for this study contains an inherent bias. By selecting and interviewing only those students who themselves participate in the practice of buying sustainable food, a selection is made beforehand based on ‘engagedness’ of participants with sustainability and sustainable food. However, this bias is inevitable and even required, since the research question is concerned with the specific practice of buying sustainable food and therefore this research is necessarily only interested in individuals who are looking for sustainable food.

Nevertheless, some form of contrast can still be found within the individuals themselves. This will be accounted for by asking questions about the process through which interviewees came to participate in the practice of buying sustainable food. By tracing their trajectory, inquiring after their past and their motivations for joining in the practice of buying sustainable food, a comparison can be made within each individual concerning their current patterns of food consumption and their previous habits in this respect, to see if there are any differences and if so, how weak or strong these differences are.

3. Theoretical framework This chapter presents the theoretical framework employed in this thesis. In the first section, the main tenets of practice theory will be outlined, followed by a section in which practice theory is applied to the field of sustainable consumption. The last section shows the confrontation of practice theory with transition theory, in order to further illuminate several of practice theory’s basic premises.

3.1 Practice theory A practice theory perspective is not a unified approach. As Nicolini (2013) indicates, practice theory needs to be approached as a plurality. According to Nicolini, five aspects characterize the body of practice-based approaches, being (a) a focus on activity, performance and work; (b) the critical role of the body and material things in all social affairs; (c) special attention for individual agency and agents; (d) knowledge, meaning and discourse as embodied; and (e) the importance of interests and power in social reality. Based on these characteristics, practice theorists argue that in order to understand social reality not the practitioner but the practice should be taken as the basic unit for analysis. The appeal of this focus is that it does justice to our progressively interconnected social world, “in which boundaries around social entities are increasingly difficult to draw” (Nicolini, 2013, p.2). Practice theorists attempt to overcome strict dualisms with definite boundaries, such as structure/agency and body/mind and try to find a middle ground between methodological individualism and methodological holism. They do this by taking an interpretive turn: towards the everyday and the lifeworld (Reckwitz, 2002); towards the practice. The role of the individual is to be the carrier of a practice: specific knowledge and rules are attributes of a practice, which in turn gets enacted, performed or ‘carried’ by an individual (Shove, Pantzar, & Watson, 2012).

Defining ‘practice’ turns out to be difficult, due to the aforementioned plurality in theories as well as to the ontological nature of practice theories (Nicolini, 2013). Part of this diversity in practice definitions can be explained by the difference in conceptions of a practice, i.e. understanding it as a coordinated entity or as a performance. Schatzki (1996) elaborates this distinction, noting that the former refers to “practice as a temporally unfolding and spatially dispersed nexus of doings and sayings” (p.89). The second understanding of practice – practice as performance – refers to the enactment, the carrying out of practices, by individual actors (Reckwitz, 2002). The various practice theorists (including Bourdieu, Foucault, Giddens, Reckwitz, Taylor and Schatzki) make different choices with regards to this distinction.

One of the first social theorists to speak of practice as the main unit of analysis in social reality was Pierre Bourdieu. Bourdieu never gave an exact definition of what he meant when referring to ‘practice’, but in his 1977 work Outline of a Theory of Practice (as well as in other later works, see i.e. Bourdieu, 1990), he elaborates his notion of habitus which serves as an alternative to objectivist and subjectivist approaches to social thinking. The concept of habitus is an explanation for social order, which is permanently internalized in the human body; in other words, “a way of knowing inscribed in bodies” (Nicolini, 2013, p.56). As Bourdieu puts it, habitus is

“a system of durable, transposable dispositions, structured structures predisposed to function as structuring structures, that is, as principles which generate and organize practices and representations that can be objectively adapted to their outcome without presupposing a conscious aiming at ends or by an express mastery of the operations necessary in order to attain them” (Bourdieu, 1990, p.53).

With this notion, Bourdieu intends to overcome the one-sidedness of both objectivist and subjectivist explanations of social reality. Instead he emphasizes a dual or dialectic nature in the habitus: it both constrains and enables the ways in which an individual acts, providing “conditioned and conditional freedom” (Bourdieu, 1977, p.95). Habitus is generated in a field (‘champ’): a contextual environment or social space, which includes the configuration of relations between actors in the field and their relative positions, which are determined by differential commands of economic, social and cultural capital. Studying practice means to study people in their field, in their “practical relation to the world, the preoccupied, active presence in the world through which the world imposes its presence, with its urgencies, its things to be done and said, things made to be said which directly govern words and deeds without ever unfolding as a spectacle” (Bourdieu, 1990, p.53). Critique on Bourdieu’s theory of practice has however been voiced for not achieving its proclaimed aim of taking practices as the primary units of analysis. Rather, as Luntley (1992) notes, Bourdieu in fact tries to uncover larger, hidden structures of practice and thus fails to focus on practice as basic epistemic unit.

Another dominant practice theorist, Anthony Giddens, was motivated by the same dissatisfaction with subjectivist explanations of the individual. Instead, he proposes his theory of structuration, which is elaborated in his 1984 The Constitution of Society. This approach neither primarily studies the individual actor nor societal totality, but rather examines “social practices ordered across space and time”, in which “agents reproduce the conditions that make these activities [i.e. human social activities] possible” (Giddens, 1984, p.2). Practices as such are thus the primary unit of analysis for a sociologist, because practices are the locus where both reproduction and change of social structure take place. A ‘practice’ in Giddens’ theory is defined as “regularized types of acts” (Giddens, 1976, p.75). Taken together, practices form social systems.

Moreover, each individual has a certain ‘lifestyle’, i.e. “a more or less integrated set of practices which an individual embraces, not only because such practices fulfil utilitarian needs, but because they give material form to a particular narrative of self-identity” (Giddens, 1991, p.81). These practices form an assemblage of habits, routines and orientations, with an overall unity. Lifestyle is related to but different from the notion of class, which is where Bourdieu and Giddens’ views diverge. Bourdieu, from a more deterministic perspective, emphasizes how class shapes an individual’s habitus. On the more voluntarist side, Giddens seeks to move away from this idea of a class society, instead speaking of lifestyles as determinants for social identity and the types of practices one engages in. The precise role of class in Giddens’ work remains rather ambiguous though, leading Atkinson (2007) to argue that lifestyles should be seen as products of class rather than as reflexive choices by autonomous agents.

In addition, according to Giddens, the potentiality of change is intrinsic to all moments of social reproduction and can reach system level over time. Crucially, Giddens conceives of the individual within practices as a ‘knowledgeable and capable agent’ with practical consciousness, i.e. awareness of social rules which are applied routinely. This strong sense of agency has been criticized as a move towards methodological individualism, which connects with the criticism that Giddens ultimately fails to completely move away from dichotomies such as structure/agency. As Nicolini (2013) argues, it is not practices as such but rather actors which are ultimately given ontological primacy in Giddens’ theory of structuration.

In sum, both Giddens and Bourdieu are being accused by Nicolini (2013) and others of not taking ‘practice’ as their primary focus of sociological attention. About a decade after the publication of Giddens’ main work on practices, Theodore Schatzki developed an alternative and influential theory of practice – primarily through his books Social Practices (1996) and The Site of the Social (2002) – aiming once more to put practices at the centre of analysis. He is often considered to mark the beginning of the second-wave of practice theorists. Schatzki’s basic premise, derived from Heidegger and Wittgenstein, is that people do what makes sense for them to do. Practices make up people’s ‘horizon of intelligibility’ (Nicolini, 2013, p.164). In Schatzki’s work, practices are defined as ‘open- ended spatial-temporal manifolds of actions’ (Schatzki, 2005, p.471) and also as ‘sets of hierarchally organized doings/sayings, tasks and projects’ (Schatzki, 2002, p.73). Practices consist of four main elements: (1) practical understanding – “knowing how to X, knowing how to identify X-ings, and knowing how to prompt as well as respond to X-ings” (idem, p.77); (2) rules – “explicit formulations, principles, precepts, and instructions that enjoin, direct or remonstrate people to perform specific actions” (idem, p.79); (3) teleo-affective structure – “a range of normativized and hierarchically ordered ends, projects and tasks, to varying degrees allied with normativized emotions and even mood” (idem, p.80); and (4) general understanding.

According to Schatzki, human bodies and bodily skills are crucial in practices, and although artefacts and technology do play an important role in practices, they do not have the ability (intelligibility) to perform practices. Non-human agency is influential, but Schatzki is a (self-proclaimed) residual humanist rather than a post-humanist like Callon and Latour, in defending that “activity holds the upper hand” (Schatzki, 2002, p.117). Rather, Schatzki delimits the role of objects to the realm of social order, in which practices are situated and by which practices can be constrained or enabled. This occurs in ‘prefigurational relationships’, i.e. the physical world prefiguring human agency through constraint and possibility, for instance providing lock-in mechanisms (Schatzki, 2002). Despite not having the intelligibility to actually perform practices, material entities or ‘arrangements’ do in this way play a very important role in shaping practices. As Schatzki puts it, practices and arrangements bundle, i.e. they form constellations in that “(1) practices effect, alter, use and are inseparable from arrangements while (2) arrangements channel, prefigure, and facilitate practices” (Schatzki, 2011, p.4). Practices can also bundle with other practices, forming a bundle of practice. This occurs when

“(1) their [i.e. the practices’] organizations contain the same element, i.e., the same end, rule, task or understanding; (2…) when one item being part of one practice’s organization is not independent of a different item being part of a different practice’s organization; (3…) via interwoven timespaces, when the ends people pursue, the events to which they react or in the light of which they act, and the place-path contexts in which they proceed are common or orchestrated; (4…) when practices are linked by way of sharing the same doings and sayings; (5…) when practices are linked via chains of action; (6…) by intentionality when a person carrying on one practice thinks or imagines something about another practice or acts towards that other practice” (Schatkzi, 2011, p.12).

Furthermore, Andreas Reckwitz made an important attempt in 2002 to move towards a theory of social practices, and proposed the following definition of a practice, in which several of the elements of the aforementioned authors’ descriptions can be recognized:

“a routinized type of behaviour which consists of several elements, interconnected to one other: forms of bodily activities, forms of mental activities, ‘things’ and their use, a background

knowledge in the form of understanding, know-how, states of emotion and motivational knowledge” (p.249)

According to Reckwitz (2002), practice theory inspires a shifted self-understanding, one which is not centred on the mind but rather views agents as “carriers of routinized, oversubjective complexes of bodily movements, of forms of interpreting, knowing how and wanting and of the usage of things” (p.259). By conceptualizing the individual as such, practice theories belong to ‘cultural theories’, Reckwitz argues. This means that action is understood by drawing on symbolic structures of meaning and that the social is located in minds, discourses, interactions and ‘practices.

3.2 Practice theory and sustainable consumption During the last decade or so, theories of practice have increasingly been applied to consumption and particularly to the question of how to arrive at more sustainable consumption (see i.e. Cohen & Murphy, 2001; Halkier, Katz-Gerro, & Martens, 2011; Røpke, 2009; Shove et al., 2012; Spaargaren, Oosterveer, & Loeber, 2013; Spaargaren & Van Vliet, 2000; Warde, 2005). Applying practice theory ‘in practice’ and transposing it into empirical analysis has proven to be difficult, however, as practice theory is arguably more of a philosophical, ontological undertaking than an empirically testable theory. Nevertheless, several attempts have been made. Nicolini (2013) draws up a general theory- method package for applying practice theory, consisting roughly of two basic movements, i.e. zooming in and zooming out, each with a further specified set of foci (see for more details Nicolini, 2013, p.213-242, and section 2 of this thesis). Due to its attempt to be holistic, however, this approach suffers from remaining rather abstract.

Warde (2005) also aims to make practice theory more empirically applicable, and does so within the realm of consumption. He argues that consumption takes place only within practices and for the sake of practices, and that the effect of production on consumption is moderated by the nexus of practices. The individual simultaneously participates in different practices, or, as Reckwitz puts it, the individual is the “unique crossing point of practices, of bodily-mental routines” (Reckwitz, 2002, p.356). Together, these practices make up a lifestyle (as elaborated above), which is not necessarily coherent and is subject to change over time. These observations lead Warde to change the focus towards practices in aiming for more sustainable consumption, rather than towards individual behaviour or towards the system of provision only.

This is what Shove et al. (2012) also emphasize, when arguing that practice theories have a stock of unused potential for understanding change. As they put it, “policy initiatives to promote more sustainable ways of life should be rooted in an understanding of the elements of which practices and systems of practice are formed, and of the connective tissue that holds them together” (p.2). An important role is played by things and materials in Shove et al. (2012)’s approach, which is partly based on ideas from science and technology studies (STS) as developed particularly by Latour. This leads Shove et al. to draw up the following elements of a practice: (a) materials (incl. things, technologies, tangible physical entities, and the stuff of which objects are made); (b) competences (skill, know-how and technique); and (c) meanings (incl. symbolic meanings, ideas and aspirations).

In addition, Shove et al. pay particular attention to the dynamics and change in practices, speaking of ‘the career of a practice’: how do practices recruit practitioners (and how do they lose them)? Central to the continuance of a practice is the linkage between the elements: the connections between the construing elements need to be constantly renewed. Practices that ‘work’ do so

“because material elements and those of meaning and competence are linked together, and transformed, through the process of doing” (Shove et al., 2012, p.41). The various elements that make up a practice are mutually constitutive, co-evolve and shape each other. The extent to which a practice succeeds at capturing recruits depends partly on the distribution of its relevant elements, its position vis-a-vis other practices, and on the traits of the social networks it constitutes and through which it travels. Common routes of attracting practitioners include learning, sharing and carrying, which according to the authors renders issues of access and engagement very relevant: “[p]atterns of participation matter not only for who gets the opportunity to do what, but for who it is that shapes the future of a practice, and for how individuals are shaped by the experience. All are significant for accumulation of expertise, for the meaning of participation and for the distribution of requisite materials: in short, for the production of future possible trajectories, individual and collective” (p.73).

Furthermore, like Schatzki, Shove et al. mention the notion of bundles in relation to practices. In their terms, bundles are “loose-knit patterns based on the co-location and co-existence of practices” (2012, p.81), which are distinguished from complexes, i.e. “stickier and more integrated combinations” (idem). These bundles and complexes appear and dissolve due to competition and collaboration between practices. Practices can compete, for time or other resources. On the other hand, collaboration refers to how certain practices ‘suppose and require the reproduction of others’ (p.88), such as how one practice produces elements (e.g. competences or materials) that are necessary for another practice. This idea is also voiced by Schatzki, when stating that “the actions that compose a given practice (...) are linked by the cross-referencing and interdependent know- hows that they express concerning their performance, identification, instigation, and response” (Schatzki, Knorr-Cetina, & Von Savigny, 2001, p.59). Shove et al. emphasize that whereas physical proximity used to be very relevant for practices bundling together, this cross-referencing can now also occur through virtual connections. In any case, elements serve as coordinators for “the manner

Figure 1 Practice (Spurling et al., 2013)

25 in which practices relate to each other and for how these relations change over time” (Shove et al., 2012, p.113).

Additionally, in a contribution co-authored by Shove (i.e. Spurling et al., 2013), figure 1 is introduced, which also serves as an illustration of Shove’s position on the aforementioned distinction between practice as performance and practice as entity. The key message of this figure is that observable behaviour is only a tip of the iceberg. Keeping this in mind, policymakers aiming for more sustainability should not resort to policies addressing individual behaviour in isolation, but rather they should take the practice entity as their target (Spurling et al., 2013). The authors contrast practice approaches to policy interventions with common framings of the sustainability challenge. The latter consists of (1) innovating technology, (2) shifting consumer choices, and (3) changing behaviour. To replace these, the practice perspective provides three different framings, i.e. (4) re- crafting practices – reducing the resource intensity of existing practices by changing their elements; (5) substituting practices, - replacing less sustainable practices with more sustainable ones; and (6) changing how practices interlock – harnessing the complex interactions between interlocking practices in order to make change flow through interconnected practices. An important element in the fifth problem framing – i.e. substituting practices – is the idea that different practices compete for resources, space and time. Additionally, the sixth type of problem framing is illustrated by Watson (2012) in relation to food consumption, when stating that

“… the shifting character of grocery shopping is inseparable from shifting patterns of personal mobility, with out of town supermarkets co-evolving with patterns of personal car mobility, and with broader restructuring of the temporal rhythms of daily life that are enabled by, and make necessary, the convenience of provisioning a household with a single shopping trip to one destination” (p.491, as qtd. by Spurling et al., 2013).

This leads Spurling et al. (2013) to conclude that interventions in sets of interlocked practices demands interventions at the level of the infrastructures and institutions Figure 2 Conceptual model for studying practices skeeping these practices in place. (Spaargaren & Van Vliet, 2000)

In addition, according to Spaargaren (2011) and Spaargaren et al. (2013) as well, practices should be the locus of environmental governance. Practices should be ‘ecologically modernized’, which refers to “the process of incorporating and anchoring into the practice the objects, meanings – e.g. the

‘ways of doing and saying’ – which are important for monitoring, assessing, valuing, and improving the practice with respect to its environmental or climate performance” (Spaargaren, 2011, p.816). The aim is to include an environmental dimension into consumers’ considerations when buying or not buying a certain product, in addition to existing economic criteria (Spaargaren & Van Vliet, 2000). Spaargaren and Van Vliet (2000) have also developed their own conceptual model for analysing practices, which can be seen in Figure 2.

3.3 Practice theory and transition theory In order to further understand change in food practices towards enlarging the scope of sustainable consumption, some practice theorists enter into a (critical) conversation with the theory of transitions (Grin, Rotmans, & Schot, 2010; Rotmans, Kemp, & Van Asselt, 2001) with its multi-level perspective. I will shortly discuss transition theory here in order to be able to also outline practice theory’s response to it, which can serve in particular to reiterate the latter’s central propositions on agency and scale.

Transition theory is an alternative model of environmental governance, and is focused on managing transitions which are defined as “gradual, continuous processes of change where the structural character of a society (or a complex sub-system of society) transforms” (Rotmans et al., 2001, p.16). According to Rotmans et al. (2001), a transition has four phases: (1) a predevelopment phase; (2) a take-off phase; (3) a breakthrough phase; and (4) a stabilization phase. Moreover, three different levels are identified through which a transition travels, i.e. (a) the micro- or niche-level; (b) the meso- or regime-level; and (c) the macro- or socio-technical landscape-level.

Transitions always start at the micro-level, with individual actors, technologies and local practices. In order to make sure sustainable transitions break out of the micro-level, successful transition management (or rather, strategic niche management) is required, which is characterized by long- term thinking, multi-domain/actor/level thinking, learning-by-doing, system innovation and a wide playing field. The various stages in transition management are (1) defining a transition objective; (2) formulating transition visions; (3) establishing interim objectives; (4) evaluating and learning; and (5) creating public support. The main actor within this management process, according to transition theory, is the government. This focus is what transition theory has been criticized for, and more generally for its lack of acknowledgement of individual agency (see i.e. Genus & Coles, 2008; Smith et al., 2005; Spaargaren et al., 2013), although more recent versions of transition theory do allow more space for individual agency.

One praxeological response to this undervaluation of agency in transition theory can be found with Spaargaren et al. (2013), who propose that the concepts of niches, regimes and systems be replaced by food practices on the three levels of production and processing, distribution and retail, and consumption. Of these three levels, the level of consumer practices is considered most important by Spaargaren et al.: “in order to understand (transition) processes in food chains and networks, one has to start with the ‘empowered’, demanding, concerned consumer and read from his or her food preferences and practices the best way to (re)design the chains and networks for food consumption and production” (p.19).

Within this context, the notion of a citizen-consumer is also used, which builds upon the idea of political consumerism as primarily elaborated by Micheletti, Stolle, and Berlin (2012). Political consumerism refers to “the evaluation and choice of producers and products with the aim of

27 changing ethically, environmentally or politically objectionable institutional or market practices, (…) informed by attitudes and values regarding broad issues of sustainable development” (Micheletti et al., 2012, p.145). Citizen-consumers are conscious of the need for environmental management and aim to reduce the environmental impact of their lifestyle (Spaargaren & Van Vliet, 2000). Spaargaren and Oosterveer (2010) establish three ideal-type roles for citizen-consumers regarding environmental change: (1) ecological citizenship – the participation of citizens in political discourses on sustainable development; (2) political consumerism – see above; and (3) life(style) politics – the ways in which individuals are deroutinized and made to reflect on their everyday lives and their narratives.

At the same time, Spaargaren and Oosterveer (2010), referring to STS and following Shove (2003), also again emphasize the significant role of technologies and other material objects towards improving sustainable consumption practices. Shove and Walker (2010) argue for the importance of physical infrastructure in shaping practices and the emergent character of practices interacting with the material environment, leading to partial uncontrollability and a lack of governability of practices. Transition theorists are blamed by Shove and Walker for their overly positive view of engineering and steering transitions, overlooking the fact that technologies sometimes tend to have a life of their own. Building on these observations, Spaargaren and Oosterveer (2010) as well as Spaargaren (2011) suggest to ‘bring technology back in’. A careful balance needs to be struck, they argue, between appreciating the material dimension of practices on the one hand and recognizing the role of the individual agent within practices on the other hand.

Another point of critique that has been voiced towards transition management theory concerns scale, and more specifically its conceptualization of three distinct levels for transitions (i.e. niche, regime, and sociotechnical landscape). According to transition theorists, as outlined above, changes or transitions occur hierarchically, starting at the niche level and, when managed strategically, slowly spreading to the higher levels. This view of change presupposes a certain ranking or hierarchical structure in the various levels through which innovations travel. Within this perspective, moves from the micro to the meso, or from the meso to the macro-level are qualitative step changes.

Shove and Walker (2010) are critical of this hierarchy and the ‘us/them’ distinction transition theorists presume with this multi-level perspective. In line with their aforementioned criticism of transition theory’s overly optimistic view of strategically managing or steering practices to achieve innovations on a larger scale, Shove and Walker further disapprove of transition theorists’ representation of those being governed and those doing the governance. Transition theory’s assumption of ‘nested hierarchy’ is wrong, Shove and Walker contend, because “when practices change they do so as an emergent outcome of the actions and inactions of all” (p.475). Innovations in practice are only successful when enacted by practitioners, and therefore “it is misleading to imagine or suppose the existence of sources or forces of influence that are somehow external to the reproduction and transformation of practice” (p.475). Shove and Walker therefore argue for practice theory replacing the multi-level perspective, with a flatter model emphasizing multiple relations of reproduction (rather than hierarchical levels) across different scales.

This is also argued by Schatzki in his 2011 article on large social phenomena. His main argument in this paper is that large social phenomena (i.e. macro, global) have the same composition as small social phenomena (i.e. micro, local). All phenomena are comprised of practice-arrangement bundles,

28 or features/slices thereof. He terms his own position ‘flat ontology’: “social life itself brooks no levels” (p.14). As mentioned before, according to Schatzki, the site of the social consists of bundles of practice and material arrangements. Crucially, all social phenomena, at micro as well at as macro scale, are slices or aspects of these constellations, and do not fundamentally differ qua composition, but merely qua density, continuity and spatial-temporal spread.

Schatzki goes on to criticize the multi-level perspective adopted by transition theorists for its three levels, which he considers ‘ontologically suspect’. Instead, he argues that the MLP’s distinction between micro and meso levels is false, and that these levels are “really just different components or sectors of a single plenum embracing spaces of innovations and spaces that perpetuate the past and present” (p.16). Therefore, Schatzki proposes not to approach social phenomena from a perspective of different levels, but rather to think of them as a single plenum of practices and arrangements, with variations in thinness and thickness, as well as directness and indirectness of relations between them.

Additionally, Schatzki – in line with Shove and Walker (2010) – disagrees with MLP’s presumption of stability, i.e. the idea that “if there is no external landscape (macro) pressure, the regime (meso) remains dynamically stable and will reproduce itself” (Geels & Schot, 2007, p.406). This assumption does not take into account the unpredictability, emergency and uncontrollability that characterizes practices (Shove & Walker, 2010), according to which innovation can happen at any time. In other words, change is not as stable or predictable as transition theorists would have it in their model, but rather social affairs and social change is best characterized through happenstance and contingency: “social change is messy” (Schatzki, 2011, p.25).

3.4 Operationalization The first valuable and rather straightforward insight of practice theory is its main unit of analysis, namely the practice, rather than either individual agency or structure. Taking practices as the main focus and mode of recruitment for interventions allows for a more comprehensive and fundamental approach, which combines research into the agents in a practice as well as systems of provision that also structure the practice.

Practice theory also offers a perspective through which the importance of materials in shaping human behaviour is acknowledged, which is particularly provided by Shove and Schatzki. Shove’s recognition of the importance of the physical environment can be found in her inclusion of ‘materials’ as one of the three elements that together constitute a practice. Schatzki’s appreciation of the material can be seen in his notion of prefigurational relationships constraining and enabling human agency. This attention for the material dimensions of social life is a valuable addition when analysing patterns of access to sustainable food, taking into account infrastructural dimensions and budgets, but also the possibilities and restraints of one’s housing situation.

Furthermore, the concept of lifestyle (Giddens) as used in practice theory is a useful analytical tool in explaining differences between people in accessing as well as consuming sustainable food. Related to this is Schatzki’s notion of a bundle of practices and Spurling et al. (2013)’s idea of the interlinkedness of practices. By examining the practices that are related to buying sustainable food, it is possible to envision what a lifestyle that incorporates buying sustainable food may look like and what variations

29 and/or inconsistencies there are. By analysing which links are strong and which are weak, hypothesized links can also be dismissed. Additionally, Shove et al. (2012)’s work on the dynamics, change and co-evolvement of the elements of a practice can also prove insightful to understand bridging between various practices. Their notions of collaboration and competition as ways in which practices can relate to each other, as well as the idea of cross-referencing, can shed light on the trajectory of practices and on the role of access.

4. Case study background This chapter presents background information to sustainable consumption in France. An overview of organic labelling (4.1) and organic food channels (4.2) in France is provided, followed by a section on the attitudes of French citizens towards the environment (4.3) and finally by a short description of the French student (4.4)

As noted before, the notion of ‘sustainable food’ is a broad one. When it comes to the interpretation thereof as ‘organic’, we can see that generally, in France, the home consumer market for organic food is growing, as can be observed in figure 3. According to AgenceBio (2013), the most important French agency for the development and promotion of organic farming, the market has doubled between 2007 and 2012, and has been growing with 20% ever since. Nevertheless, to put this in perspective, the consumption of organic products is estimated to make up only 2.5% of the total food market.

Figure 3 Development of organic market in France 1999-2014 (AgenceBio, 2015)

4.1 Organic labelling in France In France, multiple organic labels exist. The official national label, overseen by the Ministry of Agriculture, Agrifood and Forestry, is called AB (Agriculture Biologique). This label identifies products that are 100% organic or – for the case of composite products – that contain at least 95% organic ingredients. According to AgenceBio (2015), 98% of the French population knows this label. Additionally, other common organic labels are (Combe, 2015):

 BioCohérence: this private label selects products that are already labelled by AB but is stricter. It excludes products that mix organic and non-organic production; has a 0.1% max for GMO-contamination; and 80% of the forage needs to be produced on the farm.  Demeter: this private label is also stricter than AB and is based on biodynamic agriculture. Mixes and traces of GMOs are forbidden, composed products need to consist of at least 90% Demeter-labelled ingredients; animal feed needs to consist for 2/3rd of Demeter-labelled products and 80% of the forage needs to be produced on the farm.

 Nature&Progrès: this private label is given to products that are 100% made of Nature&Progrès-labelled ingredients or organic. It does not require the AB label of its producers and uses a participative system of guarantees, supported by producers and consumers. It prohibits traces of GMO and palm oil in its products, and 50% of the animal feed needs to be produced on the farm.  Ensemble: this private label was created by Biocoop (the primary chain of organic stores in France). It is given to products that are 100% organic; excludes fruits and vegetables that are grown in greenhouses; animal husbandry must be done on small-size farms and with a preference for local breeds; animal feed needs to be 100% organic and largely produced on the farm.  Fairtrade/Max Havelaar: this private label primarily has a social concern, by guaranteeing fair trade deals with small producers and business. Next to social criteria, however, the Max Havelaar label also contributes to sustainable development by ensuring that its producers use neither dangerous pesticides nor genetic modification.  Bio équitable: this label is attached to products that already have the AB label, and applies to products from developing countries. It guarantees minimum prices for its producers and small-size production, and its products are only sold in specialized organic stores.  Bio solidaire: this label originates from the same organization as Bio équitable and is also attached to products already provided with the AB label, but is applicable only to products from France. It prohibits products grown in greenhouses and takes into account the seasonality of fruits and vegetables; and its products are only sold in specialized organic stores.

4.2 Organic food channels in France In France, the majority (76%) of organic food is also produced locally, in France. Organic food in France is usually offered through one of four channels: (1) supermarkets, (2) specialized organic stores (SOS; independent or chain), (3) direct sales (market or farm) and (4) independent shopkeepers (“artisans-commerçants”); see figure 4, as well as figure 5 for the quantities of different types of organic food sold through each channel. Sales have particularly increased in the direct sales and in the specialized organic stores over the past years. Additionally, the use of organic produce in catering has also increased, which is another way in which consumers are confronted with organic food.

Figure 4: Organic food channels in France (AgenceBio, 2014)

5% 12% Supermarkets SOS (chain) 9% 47% SOS (independent) Artisans-commerçants 27% Direct sales

Figure 5: Organic food sales in France (AgenceBio, 2014) 1200 1000 800 600 Direct sales 400 200 Artisans 0 Organic stores Large surface supermarkets

Consumers tend to buy organic products through more than one channel. This shows that most consumers buy their organic products in supermarkets (80%), representing 47% of the total purchase of organic products in France (AgenceBio, 2013). Other circuits are also prominent, such as SOS (specialized organic stores; 26%), which make up 36% of the total organic products purchase; direct sales (markets and farms), representing 12% of total organic food sales; and artisans-commerçants (23%), making up 5% of the total. Focusing more specifically on Paris, figure 7 illustrates the geographical distribution of (chain) specialized organic stores in Paris. As can be seen, the centre area is best provided with SOSs, whereas the inner suburbs are only marginally supplied.

Figure 6: Distribution of organic stores in Paris and inner suburbs region (Nielsen, 2013)

Another type of organic food provision which is not explicitly mentioned by AgenceBio (2013) but is described by Brown, Dury, and Holdsworth (2009) is the option of local, often organic fruit and vegetable box schemes, organized through so-called AMAPs, a form of community-supported agriculture (CSA) which has been growing in France (Cavard & Baros, 2005). These AMAPs consist of (a) local farmer(s) and a group of individuals who form an alliance in which the growers and consumers share the risks and benefits of the food production and consumers have products delivered from the farm(s) weekly (such as fruits, vegetables, bread, eggs and/or meat). By 2012, over 1600 of such AMAP networks had been set up all over France, of which 260 in the Ile-de-France region where Paris is located (MIRAMAP, 2016). One ‘panier’ or basket usually costs between 8 and 10 euro per week. Some AMAPs also offer the option to share a basket or to pay per product.

The most frequently stated motivation of participants in these box schemes in France is a concern about food quality. However, these consumers also highly ranked access to organic food and ecological commitment as reasons for their subscription to box schemes. In addition, AgenceBio (2013) also researched the motivations of French consumers to buy organic products (those surveyed could indicate multiple reasons for buying sustainable products). These reasons varied from: preserving health (90%); food safety concerns (87%); quality and taste (87%); preserving the environment (84%); animal well-being (72%); having children (67%); large offer at usual shopping location (59%); ethical reasons (56%); and habit (45%). The main reasons for consumers not buying organic products were the higher price levels and a lack of reflection.

Furthermore, AgenceBio also found that 39% of people consuming organic products changed their purchase and food consumption patterns also in other domains, extending their interpretation of ‘sustainable food’ beyond just organically produced products AgenceBio (2015). Research indicated that 67% of these people now also buy more seasonal products; 62% attaches more importance to fresh products; 57% is more concerned about reducing food waste; and 47% buys more products

34 without packaging. Additionally, the French consumer has become more interested in consuming organic products when eating out. Moreover, 88% of French citizens state that they privilege environmentally friendly products in their purchases, which is an increase of 22% compared to 2013.

4.3 Attitudes towards the environment In addition, broadening our view from ‘organic’ to also include other interpretations of ‘sustainable food’, a large study among French citizens regarding their attitudes towards the environment was conducted by Hoibian (2012) at CRÉDOC (Centre de Recherche pour l'Étude et l'Observation des Conditions de Vie; Research center for the study and observation of living conditions). This research was conducted in 2011 with a total population of 2024 persons, selected based on quotas to ensure representativeness. Hoibian found that French citizens are increasingly aware of the concept of sustainable development and are more and more concerned about the impact of their lifestyle on the environment. Common ideas of orienting one’s everyday practices towards more sustainability consist of reducing food waste (mentioned by 57% of the interviewed population) and of consuming more local products (43%). The consumption of more environmentally friendly food is also mentioned by many (41%), but shows a decrease compared to previous years (49% in 2009). The general attitude in France is positive towards buying more environmentally friendly food, provided that the price of these foods is equal to their conventional variants and that a larger offer of ‘green’ food is available.

Another aspect that is increasingly paid attention to by French consumers for its environmental impact is the packaging of products. 53% state they consciously choose for the products that come with the least wrapping. Indeed, these statements coincide with a continuous decrease in the overall volume of packaging waste in France (from 160kg/citizen in 1993 to 125kg/citizen in 2009). Still, this alertness to packaging is mostly prevalent among the population over 40 years.

Regarding the role of information and access in changing to a more environmentally friendly consumption pattern, people seem to be more in need of information than in earlier years: 43% express their wish to be more informed on how to limit the impact of their consumption on the planet, and 49% of the population state that they would like to be able to spot and locate environmentally friendly products more easily. Finding access is mentioned as the third most important factor (49%) in adopting a more sustainable lifestyle, and shows an increase as compared to 2010. Generally, people express their dissatisfaction with locating environmentally friendly products: only 36% succeed easily at identifying sustainable products. Hoibian suggests that this difficulty with finding these products is probably linked with the difficulty of describing what actually characterizes the category of ‘environmentally friendly products’: does it consist of products with biodegradable or recyclable packaging, ‘natural’, unprocessed products, or rather products of various ‘green’ brands, etc.? Additionally, respondents expressed their difficulties with finding the exact location in supermarkets and other shops of products without packaging and other types of environmentally friendly products, which even applies to (self-declared) ecologically aware consumers.

Finally, to focus more specifically on the category of 18-24 year old French citizens (a category which typically includes most students), the demand for more information is the largest here and has also increased the most in this group (from 41% in 2010 to 50% in 2011). The matter of being certain

35 about price levels of conventional and sustainable products being equal is considered least relevant by this age group as compared to other social categories.

Additionally, a smaller report on a similar topic (general knowledge on sustainable development) was issued in 2013, also by CRÉDOC (Muller, 2013). This report indicates the same level of environmental awareness among the French population, yet it shows that the generational gap between younger and older people and their understanding of sustainable development has expanded, with the former group being more aware of its meaning.

Another way in which the environment can be taken into account in terms of consumption is by means of eating less or no meat. However, vegetarianism in France is not very common: according to very recent research, only 3% of the population is vegetarian (TerraEco, 2016). The majority of these people had ethical reasons as their chief motivation for being a vegetarian (43%), followed by 28% of vegetarians being primarily motivated by health concerns, and 22% mentioning the environment as their main reason for becoming a vegetarian.

The French government policy, while supporting organic agriculture, does not particularly advance a vegetarian diet. When it comes to meals being served in school canteens, in 2011 the French government issued a law which requires of a 20-meal cycle that a minimum of 4 meals should contain ‘quality meat’, another 4 ‘quality fish’, and the remaining meals should include eggs, cheese or offal ("Cantines scolaires: les repas sans viande sur la sellette," 2011).

4.4 The French student To focus more specifically on the case studied here, further insights into French student life are provided by extensive research done by OVE (Observatoire national de la Vie Etudiante; National observatory of student life) in 2011, in which a total of 33,000 students (higher education) responded to a questionnaire on their lifestyle. The total student population in Paris amounts to 325,000 people. Regarding the category of housing, 33% of the respondents indicated they live with their parent(s), another 33% rent a room on their own or with their partner, 11% share a flat/apartment (‘colocation’) and 10% live in a university residence. Difficulties finding a place to live are particularly urgent in the Parisian region. Rent prices in Paris are also comparatively high: the average amount per month varies between 600 (outer suburbs) and 700 euro (centre). About half of the students are relatively independent and visit their parent(s) for the weekend less than 2 times a month, whereas 21% heads home more frequently. When it comes to budgeting, the principal sources of income for French students are financial aid from their family, work, and community aid (scholarships and housing grants). Average monthly expenses for students living away from their parents are 738 euros, of which about 149 euros is spent on food, which amounts to about 20%.

Another study conducted by OVE concentrated on the engagement of students (Observatoire de la Vie Etudiante (OVE), 2009). Overall, 342 out of 12,000 student associations are focused the theme of the environment and sustainable development, yet the members of these associations only make up 3.5% of the total student population (OVI, 2009). Furthermore, the most recent statistics on the nutrition patterns among French students are lacking, but a 2003 study by OVI provides an extensive overview of eating behaviour. The most important conclusions of this research are twofold: (1) most meals are consumed at home; and (2) the influence of study and work on the location of eating

36 outside the home is strong. More than two thirds (67.5%) of the meals are taken at home (i.e. students’ own home, their parents’ home or a family members home). Regarding meals outside of the home, lunches are commonly eaten at work- or study-related restaurants and canteens, whereas most of the dinners outside the home are consumed at friends.

Among Parisian students, the aforementioned channel of a vegetable box (AMAP) with local and often organic vegetables, sometimes also fruits, bread and/or eggs, is also used. Through UNEF, the central French student union, AMAPs have been organized at six different universities and grands écoles in Paris (AFP agence, 2015). All are supplied by one farmer, Patrick Boumard.

5. Results

This chapter is divided into three parts. In the first section (5.1), the entire sample is analysed as a whole, and a general overview of the biographical characteristics of the sample is presented as well as their definitions of sustainable food and the channels they commonly use for acquiring these products. In the second section (5.2), then, access is explained in light of the theoretical framework of practice theory, as introduced in chapter three. Here, particular attention is paid to individual practice trajectories as well as to social networks and bundles of practice. Based on the analysis of these and more markers from practice theory, a typology is drawn up, dividing the interviewees into three different groups: the food environmentalists, the balancing environmentalists and the comprehensive environmentalists. These groups each have their own access issues, which will be elaborated specifically for each of the types, with the exception of ‘housing’ as this presents a similar challenge to every environmentalist and is therefore only dealt with under the food environmentalist subsection (5.2.1). However, the role of information is treated in a separate, short section (5.3), as this issue extends beyond access to sustainable food to accessing food in general. As this chapter as a whole will illustrate and as will also be further elaborated in the discussion and conclusion in chapter six, access can only be usefully understood in practice terms, taking into account the interactions between materials, meanings and competences (Shove et al., 2012).

5.1 General characteristics

5.1.1 Sample Of the 19 students that were interviewed, 13 were female and 6 male. Most of them (n=17) had studied or currently worked or studied at a so-called “grand école” or “grand établissement”, relatively elite higher education establishments with selective admittance procedures. Despite their selectivity and elitist image, grands écoles do not necessarily demand higher college fees of their students. The ones that figured most prominently in my research were AgroParisTech (n=5; for free), the École Normale Supérieure (n=3; pays its students a stipend) and Sciences Po (n=3; has an income- based fee scale). The ages of the interviewees ranged from 18 to 26, with an average of 22 years, and most students were in the Master phase if their studies (either in the first (n=4) or in the second (n=8) year). Their study programs were diverse, with ecology being the most common study orientation (n=5), followed by a rather splintered field including business management, marketing techniques, sociology and environmental politics (all n=2).

The average monthly income of the interviewees was 974 euro (min. 400, max. 1600). To compare this average to national statistics (provided by INSEE: Institut National de la Statistique et des Études Économiques; National institute of statistics and economic studies): the minimum wage for 2016 is 1467 euro, and the poverty line is at 734 euro. A total of 6 interviewees fall under this line. The sample’s average rent amounted to 371 euro (min. 0 [three students did not have to pay rent because either family paid for it or they had been president of their residence board], max. 650), and an average food budget of 218 euro (min. 120, max. 400, excluding two participants because they were unable to present their monthly food expenses during the interview). About half of the

38 students were entirely financially supported by their parents. Another third acquired their budget through scholarships in combination with income from (previous) jobs, and the last share had a steady income from either their PhD or from a salary paid by the institution (the École Normale Supérieure pays its students a monthly stipend of 1350 euro throughout the four years of their studies). To approximate social class, the socio-professional categories as drawn up by (INSEE, 2012) were used, as there are: A: very privileged (n=12), B: privileged (n=2), C: average (n=3), D: underprivileged (n=2)1, and are categories based on exercised occupations in this case of the students’ parents. For more detailed information on the participants, see also appendix 1.

5.1.2 Sustainable food As mentioned before, the choice was made to leave the definition of what constitutes ‘environmentally friendly food’ to the interviewees. The various elements that were brought up by the participants to be taken into account were buying organic, local, seasonal, fresh/unprocessed products, eating less meat, vegetarianism, veganism, and buying products with less or no packaging. To clarify, when interviewees indicated they were a member of an AMAP, they checked the boxes of ‘organic’, ‘local’ and ‘seasonal’ as an answer to the question of ‘what does sustainable food mean to you’, as the products offered by an AMAP commonly consist of organic, local and seasonal vegetables and/or fruits.

Both organic and local were highlighted as important criteria for sustainable food by every single interviewee, usually in combination with an interest in other criteria for environmentally friendly food. Seasonality was also taken into account by almost everyone (n=17), followed by eating less meat (n=15). The number of actual vegetarians was much lower (n=5), and only 1 interviewee indicated she was a vegan, with another one expressing a leaning towards veganism. Packaging was mentioned by about half of the interviewees as a means to take the environment into account through their food shopping.

5.1.3 Channels The various locations that were mentioned for buying sustainable food were large and small surface supermarkets, (online) organic stores, AMAPs and street markets.

Supermarket. The most common channel mentioned by the interviewed students to obtain sustainable food is the supermarket. Most students do not do (all of) their groceries at organic stores, for the reason that these are generally very expensive. What the majority of them therefore resorts to is shopping at the organic aisle in supermarkets, where organic products are less expensive. Quite a number of students go to large surface supermarkets, where there is a large, well- organized and clearly indicated offer of organic products. However, another share of the interviewees stated their dislike of supermarkets, because of the large amount of choice available as well as the atmosphere. Another commonly stated issue with supermarkets is the impossibility to buy loose products (French ‘en vrac’), i.e. without packaging. Taking care of the environment by

1 « A- Très favorisée », «B- favorisée », «C- moyenne », «D- défavorisée ». 39 means of paying attention to packaging is therefore more difficult for students shopping at supermarkets.

Organic store. The option to buy unpackaged or loose products (usually cereals but sometimes also other products) is amply available in the large number of organic stores that are present in Paris. 12 out of 19 students indicate they go to organic stores to buy at least a share of their food products. Most of them however do not exclusively go to organic stores, for the aforementioned financial considerations. Additionally, ironically, a number of students also indicate that it is exactly this rather exclusive option to buy a wide variety of loose products that holds them back from shopping at organic stores, as this presents practical issues with having to bring boxes and jars to the store when doing groceries. This does not correspond well with the irregular lifestyle of students who often decide last-minute to do groceries. One student indicated she buys at an online organic store (www.basebio.com), in bulk.

AMAP. The AMAP or vegetable box scheme turned out to be a popular channel for buying sustainable food among students. About half (n=9) of the participants are members of an AMAP. These AMAPs are tailored to the rhythm of student life. A few participants mentioned that the problem of normal AMAPs in Paris is their binding nature (e.g. conventional AMAPs are usually paid in advance for a whole year). Students commonly do not have a very stable and fixed life due to for instance internships abroad, and therefore a normal AMAP is too binding for them. In Paris, however, specific student-oriented AMAPs are well available. These student AMAPs are often paid for per month, or even per week, and the quantity is also flexible: there is usually the option of sharing a box with another AMAP member, or buying ‘en detail’ (per item).

The student AMAPs I visited or heard about are all provided for by one farmer called Patrick Boumard, who owns a farm in Orcemont in Yvelines, at about 150 km from Paris. He provides among others for the AMAPs of Sciences-Po, AgroParisTech, La Sorbonne, l’Institut de Geographie, and La Cagette des Étudiants (not affiliated with a specific university). His farm products carry the French organic AB label (Agriculture Biologique). Boumard first started providing for student AMAPs when in 2009 a group of students from AgroParisTech came up to him and asked him whether he wanted to provide vegetable boxes for them. Initially, he was not interested in selling his products in Paris and to students, which was both far away and inconvenient in terms of reliability of demand. Nevertheless, he managed to adapt his production strategies to be able to supply for the student AMAPs, among others by cooperating with two other farmers to account for variability of produce, and by complementing with direct sales on the farm and delivering to a factory in summer when students are usually away on holidays or returning to their parents.

I attended the distribution of vegetable boxes at ‘Leg’Ulm’, the AMAP of the École Normale Supérieure. Leg’Ulm consists of between 80 and 150 boxes (varying in amount over the year as students for instance often leave Paris in summer), which can be ordered per month and shared with another member. This distribution was a special occasion as simultaneously there was also a food tasting side-event going on. The atmosphere at the distribution was very informal and amiable. As Patrick is present every week during the handing out of the vegetable boxes, most people know him. He regularly gives advice to students on how to cook certain (seasonal, unknown) vegetables that are in the box. This sharing of recipes also happens at a larger scale among the AMAP members, for instance through Facebook groups but also just during the distribution moment.

Street market. Lastly, markets are also used as a channel for obtaining sustainable food, although only by a minority (n=6). However, a larger number of students do talk about how they used to go to markets when growing up or during their previous studies elsewhere in France, but indicate difficulty finding good markets in Paris. One participant, Tisha, does go to the market regularly, but states that there is a bit of a social stigma as well around the market she goes to (at Barbès, “with a lot of Arabs and black people”). In her neighbourhood she never mentions going to this market, because it does not have a good reputation. In addition, markets have limited ‘opening times’ (often only on Sunday morning), which is not a good fit with their student life. Moreover, another problem with street markets is that, contrary to some expectations, they are not necessarily short circuit. As Alexandre indicated and as I also saw for myself when visiting a market, almost none of the market stalls are ran by the farmers themselves, but rather the produce is sold by a wholesaler. Alexandre did manage to find one stall on ‘his market’ with direct sales from the farm, but this is an exception rather than the rule. The added value of short circuit that can be associated with markets thus proves to be limited.

Finally, a general observation about the channels used for eating out as well as about a pattern that emerged from the sample around this practice. The extent to which interviewees took the environment into account during eating out differed, as will be elaborated below, but almost all of the interviewees regardless of their type made a distinction between lunch and dinner in their motivations and efforts. Almost everyone went for the easiest and relatively cheapest option available for lunch, often going to university canteens or buying a sandwich, mostly not looking for environmentally friendly options (except for the vegetarians who would stick with their no-meat lifestyle during lunch as well). Interviewees also indicated difficulty with respect to the availability of information on the origin and production methods of food served at canteens or bakeries. These issues and routines were categorically different for most people regarding eating outside the home for dinner, when people would make an effort to try and find environmentally friendly food, looking for organic or short-circuit restaurants. This goes particularly for a special segment of the sample though, as will be explained in more detailed by means of the typology presented now.

5.2 Typology This research takes practice theory as its main theoretical point of departure. This means that the main unit of analysis is neither the system of provision nor the individual, but rather the practice. In order to understand what the practice of buying sustainable food looks like, it is important to include both sides and the interaction between them. The previous section served as a general impression of the available channels for accessing sustainable food and as such has elaborated mostly the provision side of the practice. In this section, the focus will extend itself to other relevant practice elements. This translates into a research lens that broadens its scope from studying the individual in the moment or outlining the supply channels present to also include elements like current practitioners’ trajectories into the practice, the bundles of practice with their specific understandings, know-how, rules and engagements these people have been exposed to and carriers of in the past, and the social circles they are and have been involved in. By mapping these components, the Parisian student buying sustainable food is first and foremostly conceptualized as a practitioner, a carrier of a practice whose individuality only emerges out of the practice and can solely be understood from within it.

Paying attention to students’ trajectories into the practice starts with understanding where they came from. A student’s current phase is characterized by transition, but in order to appreciate this evolution, it is important to know about its inception. Growing up, the student has been participating in a social network and in the particular practices of the home, bundles with specific competences, meanings and materials. The composition of these practices differs qualitatively for each individual and as it turns out, in significant ways for the understanding and mapping of the practice of buying sustainable food among Parisian students. Together with life events with their corresponding sets of practices (such as moving abroad) on the individual trajectory, these habits or practices of the home appear to have an impact on the degree of radicalism in students’ current attitudes towards the environment. To be more precise, the importance that has been attributed to a ‘good diet’ – i.e. to healthy, high quality food – in the practice of buying food while growing up has consequences for the span of people’s environmental concern. This conviction in turn impacts the practitioner’s degree of participation in the practice of buying sustainable food.

To elaborate, let me reemphasize the transitional nature of the phase students find themselves in. Although they may have physically moved away from their parents, students continue to carry the many practices of the home in their body. Now living on their own, their lives take place in a different context which may provide contrast and be cause for reflection. Nevertheless, the extent to which participation in the practice of buying sustainable food is a result of this transition, this new context with novel social ties and a wide array of potential new practices to enrol in depends on the content of previous practices. For some students, buying sustainable food is an almost natural, inscribed inclination as a result of an awareness and sensitization for good food since youth. As such, participation in the practice of buying sustainable food is not an element of a larger transition. On the other hand, for another share of students enrolling in the practice of buying sustainable food presents a deeper disruption of former routines and is embedded in a larger transformation process, with change seeping through whole bundles of practice and altering lifestyles more fundamentally.

This observation turns out to be important towards answering the question of to what extent Parisian students succeed at finding access to sustainable food. In fact, providing a general answer to this question based on the sample as a whole turned out not to suffice in explaining access and access issues. To do better justice to and shed more analytical light on the variation between the interviewees, it was therefore decided to draw up a typology (see table 2, page 44) based primarily on the above differences in individual trajectories and bundles of practice. Essentially, each of the types in the typology represents a different answer to the question: To what extent do you take the environment into account in buying food and beyond? The varying responses to this question had their repercussions for this thesis’ main research question on access. I will first explain the markers of each category, before turning to a more elaborate description of each of the three groups including their access issues.

The three categories or types have been drawn up around four markers, based primarily on the theory of practice. As such, the types are crucially not simply and solely reflections of individual trajectories, but should be seen as the results of the dynamics of social practice. The markers used to reflect these dynamics and distinguish between the various types are: mode of recruitment, mode of engagement, degree of commitment and bundles of practice.

First of all, mode of recruitment into the practice refers to the way in which the interviewees became involved in the practice of buying sustainable food. The notion of recruitment itself is based on Shove et al. (2012)’s work on the dynamics of practice. As elaborated before, the extent to which a practice succeeds at capturing recruits is mainly dependent of the distribution of its relevant elements, its position relative to other practices, and on the characteristics of the social networks it constitutes and through which it travels. The variation in modes of recruitment between the different types illustrates differences in practitioners, particularly in light of the latter aspect. The three specific modes of recruitment (continuation, inflexion and conversion) are borrowed from Lamine (2008), whose work will be discussed in more detail below.

The next two category markers (mode of engagement and degree of commitment) are borrowed from Southerton (2006), who distinguishes between the two when highlighting differences between higher and lower class participants of leisure practices. This analytical distinction is also insightfully further elaborated and used by Plessz and Gojard (2015), on whose article the following explication is also partly based. Firstly, a practice contains multiple modes of engagement, which refers quite plainly to the way in which practitioners engage in a practice. To put it more formally in Halkier (2009)’s terms, engagements are “emotional and normative orientations related to what and how to do something”. The practice holds multiple variations of these modes of engagement. Southerton himself illustrates the concept by giving the example of highly educated respondents who participate in the activity of golfing for the purpose of self-actualization, and who cook in order to acquire knowledge about food. He opposes this with lower-class respondents whose aim is mainly to gain pleasure, from simply participating in a leisure practice.

Southerton goes on to distinguish this concept from a second one, i.e. the notion of one’s degree of commitment to a practice. This refers to “the value a practitioner attaches to the practice” (Plessz & Gojard, 2015, p.174), or in other words to the “different levels of investment” (Warde, 2005) of various practitioners in the practice: the extent to which participants are willing to ‘go out of their way’, i.e. going beyond convenience and adapting their habits in a more fundamental sense.

Although I do not use these concepts like Southerton to distinguish between higher and lower educated interviewees, they do prove useful in indicating the differences in commitments and outcomes between various participants, which are in fact closely linked to their mode of recruitment into the practice of buying sustainable food. The last marker, then, is bundles of practice, which refers to the current related practices interviewees referred to in answering the question of whether they took the environment into account beyond food shopping.

Crucially, these three types do not present a progressive scale, in the sense that the three categories might present three stages on one and the same path. Instead, the different modes of engagement and modes of engagements are located on distinctively different paths and should be considered independently. In addition, some interviewees are more ‘typical of their type’ than others in one aspect, but to compensate that with respect to other markers.

1) The food 2) The balancing 3) The comprehensive environmentalist environmentalist environmentalist Group members Sarah, Thomas, Sadia, Arthur, Alexandre, Lea, Stephanie, Chloe Adelaide, Brenda, Farah, Christian, Julian, Coline, Jennifer, Justine, Agathe, Bruno Tisha Mode of Continuation Inflexion Conversion recruitment

Mode of Concern with Concerns with Concern with engagement environment, health, environment, health, environment in food quality and ethics in quality, ethics and social and other domains food only equality in food and other domains Degree of Know their limits Question their limits Push their limits commitment

Bundles of practice Recycling, buying Transportation, Transportation, second hand recycling, saving energy, recycling, saving energy, buying second-hand, buying second-hand, activism activism Table 2 Typology

Before moving to a more detailed description of each of the three types in the table above, I will first elaborate here upon an important work that is linked to my own research and in fact shows similar patterns regarding the role of individual trajectories. The work I am referring to is the book Les intermittents du bio: Pour une sociologie pragmatique des choix alimentaires émergents (‘Intermittent organic eaters: Towards a pragmatic sociology of emerging food choices’), by Lamine (2008). Her research analyses the trend of the growing consumption of organic products among French consumers. More specifically, she addresses the irregularity of consumers in choosing organic products. She terms these consumers “les intermittents du bio”: the ‘intermittents’ of organic, and opposes them to the “purists”. She adds to this distinction the different forms personal trajectories can take, as there are trajectories in rupture and trajectories in continuity. These do correlate with the different types of organic consumers, but not one-on-one (see table 3, based on Lamine, 2008). Rather, ‘purists’ are only found in the trajectories-in-rupture category, but ‘intermittents’ can be in either.

Trajectories in rupture Trajectories in continuity

Purists Intermittents No organic Intermittents No organic Conversion Inflexion Continuation Table 3 Trajectories (Lamine, 2008)

The first category consists of trajectories in rupture, of which I will elaborate the purist and the intermittent version (the ‘no organic’ group is not of interest to my own research, and Lamine’s analysis is also limited here). Generally, trajectories are in rupture when from a certain point onwards new, different structures of choice and new food practices emerge. Ruptures can be caused by exogenous factors (encounters, influence of environment), endogenous factors (health concerns) or processual factors (changes in life cycle). Nevertheless, the exact trajectory in rupture plays out

44 differently for purists and for intermittents. N.B. In a general sense, the event of moving out of one’s parental home to a room of one’s own that each of the students interviewed for my research experienced, can in a way also be seen as a factor causing rupture. Nevertheless, since all students went through this change, it seems less useful for comparing and contrasting here.

Firstly, for the former group, i.e. ‘purists in rupture’, there is usually a very clear point of rupture with a clearly distinguishable ‘before’ and an ‘after’. This goes particularly for Lamine’s research, as almost all purists were also vegetarians, among which such a watershed is rather evident. Together, the trajectory of this group of respondents is coined conversion. This conversion consists of: 1) the process of rupture itself – which can be brutal or progressive – and 2) the sedimentation of this process into practice(s). Lamine hesitates to go as far as to contend that the process of ‘food conversion’ completely matches a religious conversion, but does cite Ossipow (1997) here, to whom I will return later.

Secondly, the trajectory of ‘intermittents in rupture’ is better described as one of inflexion (as in, a change of direction). For these intermittents in rupture the choice for organic food as such is secondary. Their choice for organic is less of a motive element than an adventitious development contingent to a broader transformation of food choices and conceptions, which could be driven by a health problem, a change in one’s life cycle or by a change in location (Lamine, 2008, p.80). The difference in motivation for buying organic products therefore constitutes the distinctive criterion between purists and intermittents.

Finally, the second category of trajectories, i.e. those in continuity, comprises intermittents and non- organic eaters. For these intermittents, eating organic products every now and then is not the result of an important change, but rather it presents a logical continuation or resumption of a concern with quality that has been present since youth.

Lamine’s findings and typology bear a large resemblance to mine, as will be discussed in more detail below. An important difference, however, lies in the focus of her study. Whereas her research is solely focused on the adoption of organic food into eating practices, my questions address the practice of buying sustainable food at large, of which organic food is just one element. As such, in my research the terms ‘intermittent’ and ‘purist’ would not refer to the intensity of organic food consumption, but rather they would apply to the level of a person’s concern with the environment (remember, my typology answers the question about the extent of people’s concern with the environment in buying food and beyond). This means that a purist in Lamine’s terms (i.e. someone who only buys organic products) could be an intermittent in my research, in light of our differently defined criteria.

To illustrate this difference, let us look at two cases from my sample. First of all, there is Justine, a member of type 2 (the balancing environmentalist) in my typology, who almost exclusively buys organic products. In Lamine’s terms, therefore, she would be a purist. Yet, her motivation for buying organic products is also strongly related to food quality, and her concern with the environment outside of the practice of buying food is not very strong. This means that for me, she does not present a ‘purist’ – or rather, a comprehensive environmentalist. To contrast this, there is Julian, who is described as a comprehensive environmentalist (type 3 in my typology) because of his extension of environmental concern to many other practices as well as of his degree of commitment.

Nevertheless, he does not necessarily only buy organic products (and as such would be one of Lamine’s intermittents):

“For me, it [i.e. organic label] is not the principal factor that determines my choice, I think, if it is not organic but it has been produced locally and in a way, quite, not labelled organic, but if it is still produced with the least possible pesticides, in respectful conditions, then it is not an obligation for me to buy organic food.”2

In sum, Lamine’s work is useful when analysing individual trajectories. Her notions of rupture, conversion and continuity as well as her general argument that choice criteria arise from individual trajectories are insightful and are also confirmed by my own findings.

Nevertheless, in order to understand the practice of buying sustainable food as a whole, it is important to move beyond analysis of the individual, i.e. to decentre the individual and to also include a consideration of the role of material dimensions and bundles and complexes of practices, in order to understand more about the life of the practice. This is where practice theory is usefully added to Lamine’s analytical toolkit, with for instance Shove et al. (2012)’s practice theoretical reflections on recruitment, defection and reproduction of practices, when comparing life paths of carriers of a practice to the career of a practice. They state that “[a]lthough the temporal scales are often different, the life paths of individual carriers intersect with, and in aggregate constitute the life paths of individual practices” (p.78). Previous participation in other practices as well as newly acquired competences and dispositions due to changes in people’s life paths have their effect on their commitment to, in this case, the practice of buying sustainable food. This type and level of commitment of the practitioners as moulded by one’s life course, in turn, affects the life path, career or even ‘sustainability’ of the practice itself.

Having elaborated Lamine’s findings on purists and intermittents of organic food and their various trajectories, I will now turn to my own findings and analysis. Below, I present the three types of environmentalists as presented in table 2, each introduced by a quote and a profile of one typical category member.

2 « C’est pas non plus pour moi le facteur principale qui va décider mon choix, je pense en, si c’est pas bio mais que c’est produit localement, et de manière, assez, pas labélisé bio, mais que c’est quand-même produit avec le moins pesticides possible, dans des conditions respectueuses, c’est pas pour moi une obligation d’acheter du bio » (Julian). 46

5.2.1 The food environmentalist “For me it’s normal to do it like this. It is normal to respect the environment, all that is around us, it’s, well, it’s up to us to respect it as well, and it is, well, it’s normal to consume with the idea that the products come from somewhere, you do not just consume to eat, and it is really a whole and you are part of this environment, and so it’s normal to think about this when you choose your food.” 3

Sarah, 23

Sarah is a 23 year old female, in her last year of a Master in Business management at AgroParisTech. Her father is a farmer and sensitized her to the importance of animal well-being, which she mentions as a chief motivation for buying organic animal products. Eggs, fruits and vegetables are the most important products Sarah always tries and buy organic, although she finds that the latter are more difficult to buy at the large surface supermarket she always does her groceries at in Paris. Rather, she likes to go to the market in her small town in the Provence, in the south of France, when she visits her parents once every month. In fact, whenever she returns to Paris after a weekend in the countryside, she always carries a large basket with vegetables and fruits from her parents’ vegetable garden. Seasonality of products is something she also learned at home and which she adapts her shopping to. She does indicate the problem of elevated prices for organic products, which sometimes keeps her from buying these products. At the same time, she considers it normal to pay a bit more for good food, but she will do that more extensively only after she will have a more steady income. When she eats out, for lunch in the university canteen or for dinner in restaurants, she does not ask herself too much where the products come from and whether or not they were produced sustainably. For Sarah, buying sustainable food does not mean a large reversal of her habits. Rather, as the introductory quote to this section illustrates, it is normal for her to take the environment into account through her shopping: “Actually, I kind of do the same things as at home, when I do my groceries. I’ve sort of followed the habits of the home.”4 This coincides with a limited extension of her environmental concern to other domains – she recycles and does ‘plenty of small things’, but does not necessarily do very much else. For her taking care of the environment is not expressed through membership of pro-environmental associations or other activism: “I don’t demonstrate, I’m not in a movement.”5

Sarah serves as a typical example of the first type of environmentalist, i.e. ‘food environmentalists’ (n=4). This name was chosen due to the focus of its members on food as a way to express their concern with the environment. The mode of recruitment for the food environmentalists into the practice of buying sustainable food can be described as ‘continuation’ (Lamine, 2008), i.e. the logical extension of a previously existing concern with food. This type of enrolment as well as the consequences of entering the practice through this mode of recruitment can be explicated by taking a more detailed look at food environmentalists’ practice trajectories.

3 « Pour moi c’est normal de faire comme ça. Et c’est normal de respecter l’environnement enfin, ce qui nous entoure, c’est, enfin, notamment c’est à nous de le respecter aussi, et c’est, c’est normal de consommer en ayant à l’idée que les produits viennent de quelque part, on consomme pas juste pour manger, et c’est vraiment un tout et on s’inscrit dans cet environnement, et du coup c’est normal d’y réfléchir quand on choisit son alimentation » (Sarah). 4 « Je fais un peu pareil qu’à la maison, quand je fais mes courses, en fait. J’ai un peu suivi les habitudes de la maison » (Sarah). 5 « Je fais pas d’action, je suis pas dans un plein mouvement extérieur » (Sarah). 47

With respect to the source of their environmental concern with food, like Sarah all members of this category were sensitized by their parents to pay attention to eating well and having a healthy, high quality diet. In addition, all food environmentalists made reference to their growing up in the countryside as (part of) their motivation for arriving at their current concern with the environment regarding their food. These two characteristics correlate with a delineated and specific mode of engagement with the practice of buying sustainable food. Firstly, for food environmentalists, concern with the environment is not exclusive: it has to compete with other criteria regarding food. Three out of four group members indicate a concern with health, quality and/or ethics, when it comes to deciding which food to buy. Secondly, food environmentalists do not profusely expand their environmental concern to other practices. Moreover, regarding channels, for all of the food environmentalists, the supermarket is the most frequented venue used for buying sustainable food, like Sarah. Additionally, one of them is also member of an AMAP and half of them go to the market, but only one of them indicated they shop at an organic store (in combination with using other channels).

As such, their degree of commitment is restricted: they know their limits. To illustrate this point: Chloe repeatedly stresses her apprehension of supermarkets, but still opts for the easiest way and always goes there for her shopping; Thomas states he is “not at all a proselyte, I do not try and convert people”6, and as mentioned above, Sarah does find the environment important but indicates she does not necessarily do very much to protect the environment apart from taking it into account through her food shopping. Even there, she does not shop outside her regular supermarket to buy environmentally friendly food. Bundles of practice are also particularly weak among this type, with only waste management (n=2) and buying second-hand products (n=1) being mentioned. Moreover, Thomas, who does separate his waste and largely refrains from buying new products, does indicate he takes the car relatively often (instead of taking public transport).

The actual buying practices of food environmentalists, then, are not completely coherent, or ‘intermittent’, to use Lamine’s term. In the words of Sadia, which seem to ring true for the others as well, “I do not have a fully controlled diet, that’s clear enough. Because sometimes you don’t have money, because, well.”7 Their food shopping mostly takes place at the supermarket, where choices for or against organic food are sometimes made based on the mood and budget of the moment. The AMAP, which provides a certain regularity in the practice of buying, is not as popular here, perhaps due to its frequency and constancy. Rather, food environmentalists largely do not have fixed patterns of buying sustainable food.

Further analysis of the food environmentalists and their routines and engagements from a practice theoretical perspective in combination with Lamine’s concepts as outlined above proves to be insightful. This type of practitioners have followed a ‘trajectory in continuity’ (Lamine, 2008), in which, as mentioned before, taking care of the environment through their foodways amounted to a logical continuation of their previously acquired understandings, know-how and engagements. As such, the practice of buying sustainable food, which they entered by means of a concern with food, is not a drastically new one demanding innovation and the invention and application of new routines.

6 « Je suis pas du tout prosélyte, j’essaye pas de convertir des gens » (Thomas). 7 « J’ai pas une alimentation entièrement contrôlé, c’est assez claire. Parce que parfois t’as pas d’argent, parce que voilà » (Sadia). 48

Their “routinized type of behaviour” (Warde) or “doings and sayings” (Schatzki) are not significantly challenged. Food environmentalists’ “bodily and mental activities, (...) background knowledge, know- how, states of emotion and motivational knowledge” (Warde) are borrowed from their parents’ practices in their new context as students. To put it in Bourdieusian terms, their habitus still generates the same ‘logic of practice’ or ‘sens pratique’, and to speak with Giddens, their practical consciousness still makes them apply social rules in a relatively stable and routinely manner.

The important shared element in these concepts is the aspect of unconsciousness or internalization, i.e. the extent to which most actions and their motivations remain unquestioned and ‘under the surface’. However, it is in the face of new experiences or changing conditions that change usually occurs. During these types of disruptive events (for factors causing rupture, see Lamine above), routinized activities can become de-routinized and reflexivity can surface, which can potentially lead to change in practices.

Returning to the type of the food environmentalists, one can see how engaging in the practice of buying sustainable food never presented a significant disruption or change in routinized behaviour for them, but rather this practice is usefully seen as a continuation of habit(u)s from the home. No large de-routinization has taken place for the food environmentalists, engagements and understandings were not completely overturned nor were new routines developed. As such, taking the environment into account does not constitute the food environmentalists’ basic “narrative of self-identity” that is at the basis of a lifestyle (i.e. “a more or less integrated set of practices which an individual embraces, not only because such practices fulfil utilitarian needs, but because they give material form to a particular narrative of self-identity”, Giddens, 1991). For these practitioners, the practice of buying sustainable food is not a basic identity determiner. Rather, for this type, the environment is one value – albeit an important one – that makes up the practice of buying food, and its role is not fundamentally disruptive in the sense of changing (logics of) practice(s) and lifestyles.

These insights prove helpful, then, in explaining access issues among the food environmentalists. In general, the amount of access issues is not significantly higher or lower for any of the three types, but their nature is different – except for finances, which proves, rather predictably, to be an issue for each type and which will be elaborated below. For the food environmentalists, access problems are not so much social. The social circles in which they move about do not have a concern for the environment as common identifier. They are also not as eager to sensitize others about the need to buy sustainable food and take the environment into account in general (e.g. see quote 6 by Thomas earlier). Whereas others do indicate difficulties of social nature, food environmentalists rather state ‘convenience’ as a factor determining access to sustainable food for them. Convenience is used here in the sense of ‘being able to proceed with something without difficulty’ and ‘contributing to an easy and effortless way of life’ (Oxford English Dictionary, 2016). Convenience can be considered an access issue when it is a cause for people to refrain from buying sustainable food.

An interesting example is Sadia, 25, who avoids going to the Biocoop (chain organic store) across the street from where she lives, because of their policy of only offering loose products. Sadia finds this too demanding because it obliges her to always bring her own bags and jars, which she does not feel like, so she ends up going to another Biocoop further away. Although admittedly Sadia does still buy organic food, she finds the low/no-packaging way of taking the environment into account in her foodways too troublesome. Another way in which convenience keeps Sadia from accessing

49 sustainable food concerns another channel, i.e. that of the market. Considering that the market is only there on Sunday mornings and Sadia likes to party on the weekend and sleep in, this means she often ends up not going to the market. This problem is linked to the access issue of time, for which Chloe provides another example. Chloe indicates she likes to take time to study the ingredients, origin and production methods of products, but that she never takes time in Paris to do so, which hinders her in buying sustainable food.

Furthermore, the influence of the material dimension on access issues primarily presents itself in two ways, i.e. through finances and through housing. To start with the former, the budget of all of the interviewed students are generally not very high. With an average that is roughly only 200 euro above the French national poverty line, it is safe to say that the students interviewed do not have large amounts of money to spend. It is therefore not surprising that most participants mentioned some time or other during their interview the problem of high prices of sustainable food, mostly with reference to organic food. Particularly in organic stores, the price levels are substantially higher for almost all food products, as I witnessed myself during visits. However, although everyone mentions the elevated prices for sustainable food, the response to this fact does vary between the interviewees, in a way that further distinguishes between the three types. This difference is however neither simply explained away by the overall budget size students have nor on the average percentages thereof they spend on food (see table 4).

Table 4 Finances

Food Balancing Comprehensive Total environmentalists environmentalists environmentalists (n=4) (n=9) (n=6) Average budget 950 (min: 600 – 867 (400-1600) 1150 (700-1600) 973 max: 1600) Average food 195 (130-275) 236 (120-400) 200*(130-350) 218* budget Average % of 25% 32% 16%* 25%* overall budget spent on food * excluding 2 interviewees who did not know their food budgets Note: As the sample is very small, these data are merely descriptive for this specific group of people and are not necessarily representative for average budgets of students in Paris at large, as this would require a larger sample.

As the table shows, it is true that food environmentalists have the lowest overall as well as food budgets. However, they spend a relatively higher percentage of their budget on food than the average comprehensive environmentalist does. Considering this as well as the fairly small differences between the groups, it seems rash to contribute the buying of less or more sustainable food solely to (a lack of) financial access. All students face a more or less similar financial challenge in buying sustainable food. Yet, differences between the types do exist, which primarily become apparent when looking at their various responses to this financial situation.

Food environmentalists’ most important reaction to the higher costs of sustainable food is a resorting to shopping at the organic aisle of the supermarket. Virtually all supermarkets I have visited

50 myself indeed have such an organic section, and in this way organic products are indeed relatively easily recognizable and retrievable in supermarkets. Moreover, food environmentalists are also more selective in the products they buy sustainably: they often buy a smaller amount of products in their environmentally friendly version in light of their higher prices. As Sarah almost directly into the interview states

“There’s always the issue of price. Because I am still a student my budget is not necessarily very high, and so sometimes, I would like to buy things that are more environmentally friendly, but I still end up buying another brand, for instance, not organic, because organic is really just too expensive for some products.”8

As stated in the introduction, for Sarah, this means she usually only buys eggs, fruits and vegetables in their organic versions. Furthermore, although food environmentalists do express a willingness to pay a bit more for sustainable food, they envisage this as something to develop and expand when they will have a higher and steadier income. For food environmentalists, then, finances appear to hinder access.

Examining the other main material component of access, i.e. housing, reveals that this was a largely similar challenge for all of the students regardless of their ‘type’. Therefore, it will only be discussed here for all types at once. Every interviewee had a kitchen (ranging from two electric plates to a full stove) and a fridge, with the exception of Justine who did not have access to a fridge during her first year. Upon the question whether this limited or aided her in her efforts of taking care of the environment, she replied: “I think I had quite a weak environmental impact, but not really voluntary.”9 About half of them also owned an oven and/or a freezer. The half that lacked a freezer in their apartment indicated that this sometimes hindered them in being able to save left-over meals or vegetables, leading them to cook more often or buy products that conserve better.

About two/third (n=11) of the sample currently lived with (a) housemate(s), ranging from one to fifteen persons, and they often had lived in different housing situations before. Most interviewees indicated that living with other people had a twofold, rather predictable effect on their access to sustainable food. When fellow residents showed a similar concern with the environment, access was augmented due to a mutual exchange of for instance recipes and tips for good stores and restaurants. On the contrary, when housemates did not care as much for the environment, this sometimes presented difficulties, as for instance budgetary priorities would differ between the ‘environmentalists’ and their housemates. In general, people stated that living alone was easier because it allowed them to make their own autonomous choices, but it did come with other problems such as struggling with consuming the quantity of a weekly vegetable box.

In sum, upon examination the access issues of food environmentalists seem to be consistent with their limited degree of commitment as elaborated above. The latter expresses itself in different scheduling and financial priorities that compete with taking care of the environment (e.g. spending time sleeping in) and actions that are sometimes guided by convenience over convictions. The

8 « Il y a toujours la question du prix. Comme je suis encore qu’étudiante, mon budget est pas forcément très élevé, et du coup parfois, j’aimerais bien acheter des choses qui respectent un peu plus l’environnement, mais finalement j’achète quand-même, enfin, une autre marque, par exemple, pas bio, parce que la bio est vraiment trop cher sur certains produits » (Sarah). 9 « Je pense que j´avais un impact environnemental assez faible, mais pas vraiment volontaire » (Justine). 51 question of access to sustainable food can only be answered and understood from the practice itself. In fact, diverging patterns in access issues regarding buying sustainable food can be argued to go together with access to a differently structured practice as a whole: access to a different set of understandings, knowledge, and teleo-affective structure of the practice. As this argument invites a redefinition of access that warrants further elaboration, this point will be revisited after the other two types and their access issues have been discussed in what follows.

5.2.2 The balancing environmentalist (about eating meat): “I eat, well, it’s something quite important to me, I do pay attention. I am not a vegetarian, I pay attention to not eat too much, and I do not eat beef anymore since a year, a year and a half. Ah, not really, when it’s in my home, when I don’t feel too much like cooking, or when I don’t have a lot of choice I don’t feel like changing the menu, etc.”10

Arthur, 21

Arthur is a 21 year old male student in the first year of his Masters in Environmental politics and economics at Sciences Po. At home, he was not particularly taught to care about the environment. Rather, it is the other way around: Paul now advises his parents to eat more organic food and to buy less meat. Over the course of his studies, Paul began to develop an interest in the environment and became a member of associations such as Greenpeace and the environmental society of his university. Over time, he paid more attention to origin and seasonality of products, and since September 2015 he also subscribed to Sciences Po’s AMAP, Sciences Potiron. For the remainder of his food products, he shops at the next door supermarket, which is not necessarily sustainable, as he puts it, but he does look at the origin of products there and buys organic products when possible. For lunch, Arthur tries to prioritize CAFéS, the cafeteria at his university that serves organic, local and seasonal food – in fact, the cafeteria is organized by volunteers and supplies come from the farmer who also provides for the AMAP. Additionally, Arthur’s care for the environment is also extended to other domains, such as transportation, recycling, energy consumption and his participation in pro- environment associations. Still, as the introductory quote illustrates, he does sometimes compromise vis-à-vis convenience. The environment matters, ‘it is something quite important to me’, but there are limits. At the same time, these limits are negotiable: there is some wiggle room. As Arthur indicates, he is willing to pay a bit more, and to travel somewhat further to buy organic products. Nevertheless, to the question of whether he could think of reasons to stop buying sustainable food, he answers that “if it is really inaccessible, that is to say, if I have to travel for half an hour for something I can also find just across the street, I will stop”11, yet adding that he does think he will continue his current foodways.

10 « Je mange, ben, c’est quelque chose assez important pour moi, je sais faire attention. Je suis pas végétarien, je sais faire attention à pas manger trop, et je ne mange plus de bœuf depuis un an, un an et demi. Ah pas vraiment, quand c’est chez moi, quand j’ai pas trop envie de cuisiner, ou j’ai pas trop de choix, j’ai pas envie de faire changer le repas, etc. » (Arthur). 11 « Si c’est vraiment inaccessible, c’est-à-dire, si je dois faire un demi-heure de trajet pour un truc qui est aussi juste à côté, j’arrêterai » (Arthur). 52

The balancing environmentalists (n=9) have a different mode of recruitment into the practice of buying sustainable food than the food environmentalists described above. The majority of them were motivated through studies (like Arthur) or friends, or a combination of these. As such, they were recruited into the practice as young adults rather than as children, through a concern for the environment rather than primarily with food. Whereas three of them (Coline, Farah, and Tisha) were sensitized by their parents, their initial concern has developed beyond food, with expanded modes of engagement, degrees of commitment and bundles of practice. For Coline and Farah this increased concern was aided by their participation in their university’s environmental society, the Bureau du Développement Durable (BDD), and for Tisha it was due to the experience of living in Paris, a city where environmental degradation is quite literally encountered daily through pollution, as she experiences it.

In view of their relatively late recruitment to the practice, for balancing environmentalists buying sustainable food is not as logical a continuation of previous habits as it is for food environmentalists. Moreover, their participation in the practice stems from a concern with the environment rather than with food. Revisiting Lamine’s overview of trajectories, balancing environmentalists appear to have followed a trajectory in rupture. Their trigger for turning to this practice has come later in life, induced by exogenous factors such as encounters with friends or their study program. Still, the extent of their rupture is qualitatively different from that of comprehensive environmentalists. As such, balancing environmentalists’ mode of recruitment into the practice of buying sustainable food can be characterized as ‘inflexion’ (Lamine, 2008). They contrast with the third type, who enters the practice by means of ‘conversion’ as will be elaborated below, in the breadth and depth of their concern with the environment. Rather than an element of a more deeply altered path, buying sustainable food presents only an inflexion, a ‘slight change of direction’ for balancing environmentalists. This translates for instance in their tendency of buying their sustainable food largely in supermarkets rather than in organic stores – although about half of them do visit these sometimes, but always only in combination with shopping at supermarkets. More illustrations of how this process of inflexion characterizes this type as well as how it can be contrasted with the process of conversion can be found below under the discussion of the other category markers and in section 5.2.3.

Balancing environmentalists not only have a different mode of recruitment to the practice of buying sustainable food, they also have a distinct, more elaborate mode of engagement: an extension of environmental concern into other practices, such as transportation, recycling, saving energy, buying second hand, and ‘activism’ or participation in pro-environment associations. Still, as with the food environmentalists, care for the environment has to compete with other food criteria, such as health, quality and ethics. Shopping along with Tisha turned out to provide a neat illustration of these concerns with health and quality, as she repeatedly indicated the better quality and taste of specific organic products when verbalizing her choices of products. For instance, she explains her choice for the cheapest organic label jam:

“Those are too expensive [points at the jams from the Jardin Bio organic label]. And this one costs one euro [points at and takes the jam from the Casino Bio organic label]. In fact it’s the same price as the non-organic jam. So well, you don’t know whether ‘organic’, whether that

means something. But it’s true that it’s better, well, you normally have less sugar. Anyway, the quality is considerably better, and it’s the same price.”12

Clearly, in this case, the concern with quality and health is more important to Tisha than the precise philosophy or (environmental) values underlying organic labels.

Furthermore, an additional criterion for food, which is more specific to this group, is a concern with social equality or social responsibility (values associated with the social definition of sustainability, rather than with environmental sustainability, which is the focus of this thesis). As this type of consideration warrants further elaboration, as well as justification for being treated as belonging to this type and not to the comprehensive environmentalists, the social equality concern will be discussed at the end of this section with reference to the case of Alexandre. His case can also serve to point at the limitations of conceptualizing sustainability as purely environmental. Furthermore, like food environmentalists, too, balancing environmentalists all frequent supermarkets to buy their sustainable food. However, a larger share of them adds a regular trip to the organic store to this (n=5), as well as membership of an AMAP (n=4) and/or shopping at markets (n=3).

Regarding the third marker, the degree of commitment for balancing environmentalists is higher than for food environmentalists, as the short description of the case of Arthur at the top of this section already illustrates. Another example can be found in Brenda, a 23 year old student in Business management, for whom the environment is “something I have in the back of my mind often when I make choices in my daily life”13, but who does distinguish herself from the extremely committed people: “I don’t, there are these people who are super engaged and all, for me it’s just occasionally some small things.”14 Yet, these ‘small things’ do cover quite a few practices, i.e. transportation, recycling, saving energy, buying second-hand and activism. Additionally, Brenda buys a lot of organic products, in the supermarket, organic stores and on the market, and takes seasonality into account. Evidently, she is committed to the environment beyond just food. She does however acknowledge limits, although she simultaneously challenges these: she is aware that she could do more. Two examples: when I visited her in her apartment, which she had recently moved to, she showed me the jars she had bought in order to start buying more loose products. Nevertheless, she had not yet actually turned to using these jars, as this would require her to carry the jars around all day or to plan her groceries more in advance. Another illustration is the line she draws when it comes to composting. She told me she had already considered doing that in her previous apartment, but never did get to doing it, and currently still does not do it. She views composting really as a next stage, one she has not arrived at yet.

When it comes to bundles of practice, finally, these include a larger number of practices among balancing environmentalists, as the cases of Brenda and Arthur exemplify. Moreover, a larger

12 « Ceux-là ils sont trop chers [points at the Jardin Bio jams]. Et ça c’est 1 euro [the Casino Bio jam], en fait c’est le même prix que pas bio. Donc après on sait pas si bio, ça veut dire quelque chose. Mais c’est vrai que c’est meilleur, enfin, t’as moins de sucre que normalement. La qualité est quand-même sensiblement meilleure, et c’est le même prix » (Tisha). 13 « C’est un truc que j’ai en tête souvent quand je fais des choix dans ma vie quotidienne, quoi » (Brenda) 14 « Je fais pas, il y a des gens qui sont hyper engagés et tout; moi c’est juste ponctuellement des petits trucs » (Brenda). 54 number of interviewees in this category indicate a concern with the environment when they are eating out, extending their conviction beyond their home.

The actual buying practices of balancing environmentalists, then, are more structured and consistent than those of food environmentalists. Although like the latter, balancing environmentalists also shop at supermarkets for organic food, organic stores are also included in shopping trips. AMAP membership is also higher, allowing for more constancy and regularity in buying sustainable food. Moreover, balancing environmentalists buy more products in their sustainable versions and some also take the environment into account when eating out. For instance, Arthur and Adelaide, both students at Sciences Po, frequent the local, organic student-run restaurant at their university and try to favour this venue over others.

From the perspective of the concept of lifestyle, a difference can be seen between the food environmentalists and the balancing environmentalists. Whereas for the former, as we have seen, the environment was not an integrative and foundational concern to domains outside of buying food, for the balancing environmentalist it is more important to make their wider set of practices comply with their environmental convictions. To put it in the words of Arthur, “you adapt in order to be coherent with what you say, what you do, you adopt more responsible practices.”15

Furthermore, considering the material element of finances and its influence on access, balancing environmentalists have the lowest overall budgets but the highest food budgets (see table 4). They are willing to pay more for sustainable food, to speak with Arthur: “Sometimes I pay a bit more, but I’m OK with paying a bit more for it to be organic, for instance eggs, it’s a bit more expensive, and milk as well.”16 Nevertheless, the tension between budgetary constraints and a commitment to organic agriculture is still quite strongly felt in this group, in which the latter usually loses out. For balancing environmentalists like for food environmentalists, organic stores are often considered too expensive for doing all of their groceries and they also resort to shopping at the supermarket’s organic aisle. However, there is an awareness of the limits of buying sustainable food at the supermarket. As Tisha puts it, “I prefer buying organic [food] that is not so expensive. It’s a bit better. But I know that sometimes it’s not great either.”17 Moreover, in order to balance finances with convictions, this group of students is also selective about the food products they buy sustainable. In short, finances present an access problem to balancing environmentalists.

To conclude this section, as previously mentioned, the case of Alexandre and his social equality concern necessitates further consideration and poses some interesting questions as to the focus of this research on the environmental dimension of sustainability, rather than social and economic sustainability understandings of the term. To revisit, the definition employed in this thesis of environmental sustainability is ‘the maintenance of natural capital’, whereas social sustainability is primarily concerned with conserving social and human capital. Alexandre is a politically and socially active student of political sociology, who states that the added social value of a product (i.e.

15 «On adapte pour être cohérent avec ce qu’on dit, ce qu’on fait, on adopte des pratiques plus responsables » (Arthur). 16 « Des fois je paie un peu plus cher, mais je suis d’accord pour payer, par exemple mes œufs, c’est un peu plus cher, lait aussi, pareil, pour que ça soit bio » (Arthur). 17 « Je préfère acheter bio pas cher. C’est un petit peu meilleur. Je sais que des fois c’est pas top non plus » (Tisha). 55 social/human capital) is more important to him than its added environmental value (i.e. natural capital) – even though the two are often closely related:

“It is true that I currently think more about a product in terms of its added social value than in terms of its added environmental value, even though… I'd buy a lot of products that have the Max Havelaar label [fair trade label]. And those are products that come from far away, you know, you can say that their added environmental value is average. But hey, it’s still organic, and you also have a big added social value because you’re importing from small farmers in the South, you know. I prioritize a little, when it comes to added value of products, I put the added social value first, and the added environmental value on second, although as I said it is very often linked, it goes together.”18

This extract clearly illustrates how Alexandre’s attention to social equality can sometimes interfere with buying environmentally sustainable food. In this case, environmental sustainability in the sense of avoiding “the use of non-renewable resources on the source side, and pollution on the sink side” (Goodland, 1995, p.10) loses out to supporting fair working conditions in ‘the South’. In other words, competition occurs over what type of capital to sustain.

Another example Alexandre gives is that when he eats outs, his first and most important criterion will be whether the venue will be in accordance with his social equality ideals (e.g. a small bakery), rather than an organic store for instance. Nevertheless, again, as Alexandre indicates, such small bakeries are more likely to be short-circuit, with lower transportation emissions and as such more environmentally friendly in their attempts to preserve natural capital.

Clearly, it is sometimes difficult to neatly separate the social sustainability from the environmental sustainability concern, yet simultaneously Alexandre’s anecdotes also illustrate they do at times actually vie for attention, or in other words, are being measured against each other on a scale. In keeping with this metaphor, Alexandre is best categorized as a ‘balancing’ environmentalist rather than as a comprehensive environmentalist, as he questions and measures environmental concern. Even though his convictions are strong, deep and important for him in daily life, their exact focus ultimately sometimes disadvantages the maintenance of natural capital, which is crucial for the comprehensive environmentalist. Added to this observation is the importance Alexandre attributes to good quality of food, which was frequently mentioned during the interview, and which also contributes to a mode of engagement that is more typical of balancing environmentalists. Nevertheless, at the end of the day his case does serve as a border case, and provides an introduction to the next and last type in the typology, i.e. the comprehensive environmentalist.

18 « C’est vrai que actuellement moi je pense plus au produit en termes de plus-value sociale, qu’en termes de plus-value environnementale, je vais acheter beaucoup de produits qui ont le label de Max Havelaar. Et ça c’est des produits qui viennent de loin, tu sais, tu peux dire que la plus-value environnementale elle est moyenne. Mais bon, c’est quand-même dans l’agriculture biologique, et puis t’as une grosse plus-value sociale parce que tu fais venir les petits paysans dans le sud, tu vois. Moi je hiérarchise un peu les, ce qui donne la plus-value au produit, je mets en premier la plus-value sociale, et en deuxième la plus-value environnementale, même si comme je t’ai dit c’est souvent très lié, ça va ensemble » (Alexandre). 56

5.2.3 The comprehensive environmentalist (about her motivation for eating sustainable food) “Maybe firstly thanks to people I hung out with, and discussions we had, or a little bit a course I took, and you know, documentaries you see, etc. But it’s not like, you see, all of that, you know it, and you change immediately, it’s... it’s a pretty long process. But, yes, I think the first seed was planted in my first, second year, and that when I was alone, that really sped it up, and when I was travelling, that, yes.”19

Lea, 22

Lea is a 22 year old female student in her second year of her Masters in Agroecology at AgroParisTech. For Lea, caring about the environment has meant a huge change in many aspects of life. Having been raised by two medical doctors who usually worked late and did not always serve freshly cooked food, she was not particularly sensitized to taking care of the environment through her foodways when growing up. In fact, as for Arthur, it is rather the reverse: Lea now tries to push her parents to eat more local and organic food. As the introductory quote illustrates, her motivation for buying sustainable food primarily comes from friends she regularly spent time with and had discussions about the environment, and who also recommended documentaries on the topic to her. She describes her change as a process, a trajectory that moved ahead more quickly during her time spent abroad, during which she was involved in WWOOFing (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms, a network that organizes the stay of volunteers on organic farms all around the world). Additionally, she spent time in Wageningen (The Netherlands) and in Australia, where she learned more and more about the environment and its degradation. Lea says about herself that she “completely changed her diet.”20 She is now a vegetarian, with vegan tendencies, and does all of her groceries at Biocoop, an organic store, clearly expressing a strong dislike of supermarkets: “I can’t even go in anymore.”21 In addition, she extends her concern with the environment to a large number of other practices: next to the more frequently mentioned practices such as transportation and recycling, Lea also changed banks, to a greener one that invests in environmentally friendly projects. Her social circle largely consists of people with the same convictions and concerns as hers.

Lea and her fellow comprehensive environmentalists (n=6) entered the practice of buying sustainable food through a similar yet qualitatively different mode of recruitment than the balancing environmentalists. Both types entered the practice through a concern for the environment rather than for food, but for the comprehensive environmentalists, a process of ‘conversion’ (Lamine, 2008) has brought them to their current participation in the practice. Except for Agathe, none of the comprehensive environmentalists were sensitized by their parents (N.B. Agathe’s sensitization growing up was concerned with the environment rather than focused on characteristics of food and diet, as is the case for food environmentalists. She mentions for instance her parents’ habit of actively recycling).

19 « Peut-être la première grâce aux gens que je fréquentais, et, discussions qu’on avait, ou cours qu’on avait un peu, et tu sais, des documentaires que tu regardes, etc. Mais c’est pas parce que, voit, tout ça, tu le sais, et tu changes toute suite, c’est, et voilà, c’était assez long comme processus. Mais, oui, je pense que la graine a été semé en première, deuxième année, et que quand j’étais toute seule, ça a poussée vraiment, et quand j’ai voyagé, ça… oui » (Lea). 20 « J’ai complètement changé d’alimentation” (Lea). 21 « Je peux même plus entrer dedans » (Lea). 57

Rather, comprehensive environmentalists’ motivations for participating in the practice of buying sustainable food can be found in more profoundly disruptive factors. To illustrate, three out of six category members mention living abroad for an exchange semester or internship as contributing to their changing views. This presents a clear ‘moment of rupture’ in their respective trajectories, to use Lamine’s terms, with a distinct before and after. The other three have different exogenous factors (Lamine, 2008) disrupting their trajectories, among which primarily encounters with environmentally minded friends but also enrolment in environmental associations or an internship on an environment-related topic (Agathe).

To further understand this mode of recruitment called conversion, it is interesting to elaborate Ossipow’s research into vegetarian, raw food and macrobiotic diets. Ossipow (1997) draws a comparison between people’s food-related conversion and the process of religious conversion. She highlights four themes of religious conversion that can also be found in the trajectories of vegetarians, raw foodists and macrobioticists. These themes are: 1) the quest; 2) the increasing awareness or even revelation; 3) the almost Manichean accentuation of the difference between life before and after the adoption of new eating habits; and 4) the momentary or permanent incomprehension of the social environment vis-a-vis these changes (Ossipow, 1997, p.216). When looking at comprehensive environmentalists, all of these themes do indeed transpire, as will be illustrated with examples and citations below.

The first characteristic, i.e. the quest, can be identified for instance in the introductory quote by Lea, where she talks about her motivation for her current engagement as a process, with the metaphor of a seed being planted followed by a period of growth. The same goes for Julian, who started reflecting on taking the environment into account about two years ago, then became more serious one year ago, and now he “really takes care [of the environment].”22 Stephanie also speaks about her quest when talking about how she moved into a vegetarian community during her exchange in England: “I wanted to become a vegetarian, but I didn’t have a very strong drive until then, so, I wanted to give it a try. And so, it’s really there that I made the transition.”23

During her move to England, Stephanie went through a further process of increasing awareness (Ossipow’s second theme). She describes her own progressive insights as follows:

“Before, I never asked myself any questions about buying tomatoes in winter, or zucchinis, or seasonal fruits, and there [in England] I really started not buying any fruit out of season anymore. And in that year I also became a bit more interested in the issue of ethics, regarding animals, animal exploitation, and also because actually the industry is equally responsible for emissions, so it does not make much sense to stop eating meat, but to not stop drinking milk. In fact, it's part of the same system, so the impact of milk and cheese on the environment is also very bad, so it’s because of that that I now do not consume any animal products at all anymore.”24

22 « Vraiment là je fais attention » (Julian). 23 « J’aimerais bien devenir végétarienne, mais j’ai pas trop eu la motivation jusqu’à présent, donc, je veux bien tenter. Et, du coup, là, c’est vraiment là que j’ai fait la transition » (Stephanie). 24 « Avant, je me posais pas la question d’acheter des tomates en hiver, ou des courgettes, ou des fruits de saison, et là vraiment je suis commencée à ne plus acheter des fruits hors saison. Et cette année, après, je me suis intéressée un peu plus sur la question d’éthique, pour les animaux, l’exploitation animale, et aussi parce 58

Such an increase in awareness is also clearly present with other comprehensive environmentalists. For instance, both Christian and Agathe mention how they have recently become aware of the environmental impact of packaging, and how they now try and shift to buying more loose products and to bringing their own bags to the store.

The third theme, i.e. a strong narrative of before and after the adoption of new eating habits, is also clearly present. Some comprehensive environmentalists really indicate clear-cut moments in time that mark their trajectory. Agathe for instance states, “On the first of January 2016, I have decided to do my utmost for my environmental impact.”25 Lea, who is a vegetarian, also has a distinct moment of change, i.e. the moment she decided to be a vegetarian. This goes together with references to a before and an after, which can be observed for instance in the aforementioned citation about supermarkets: “I can’t go in there anymore” (emphasis added)26, and “it was during my first year and I had not shifted yet.”27

Finally, Ossipow’s fourth theme, about the incomprehension of the social environment regarding the changes ‘food converts’ have undergone is also present, but will be elaborated later when discussing comprehensive environmentalists’ access issues. In sum, the similarities between religious and environmental conversion are striking, and they mark a particular trajectory and mode of recruitment to the practice of buying sustainable food.

When it comes to the second marker of the typology, comprehensive environmentalists’ mode of engagement is characterized by a concern with the environment in buying food and in other domains. What mainly distinguishes comprehensive from balancing environmentalists here is the predominance of the environment as a criterion in buying food, rather than health or quality (only the latter is brought up and only once).

The degree of commitment found with comprehensive environmentalists can be summarized as “pushing their limits”. The willingness of this type to change their food habits can be seen for instance in the fact that half of them are vegetarians (Lea, Stephanie and Bruno), of which one also has vegan tendencies (Lea) and another one is vegan (Stephanie). Being a vegetarian or a vegan indicates a high degree of commitment as this usually implies a serious change of diet (see e.g. Lea). Moreover, all comprehensive environmentalists (at least) shop in organic stores, and a few even exclusively do their groceries there. Supermarkets are also used, but limitedly so and only to complement. In addition, comprehensive environmentalists push their limits by almost all indicating a drive to further expand their concern for the environment, each in their own way. For Bruno, pushing his limits means having his own garden at some point, for Lea it means moving towards veganism, Christian and Agathe talk about taking packaging into account and Agathe also mentions further diminishing her consumption of meat.

qu’en fait l’industrie elle est toute aussi responsable d’émissions de gaz, donc ça a pas trop de sens d’arrêter manger de la viande mais pas le lait. Ça fait partie du même système en fait, donc l’impact du lait sur l’environnement et du fromage, il est aussi très mauvais, donc c’est pour ça que maintenant je consomme plus des produits d’animaux du tout » (Stephanie). 25 « Le premier janvier 2016, j’ai décidé de faire au maximum pour mon impact environnemental » (Agathe). 26 « Je peux même plus entrer dedans » (Lea). 27 « C’était la première année et je n’avais pas encore shifté » (Lea). 59

Lastly, comprehensive environmentalists have similar bundles of practice to which environmental concern is applied as do balancing environmentalists. The most important difference is in their amount: comprehensive environmentalists have a slightly higher average (n=5) of connected practices than balancing environmentalists (n=3). Additionally, a larger share (almost all) of the comprehensive environmentalists include eating out in their environmental concern, and are also more advanced in their means of arriving at eating out sustainably. They do so for instance by discussing with their social circle about organic restaurants (Christian, Lea, Agathe) or by having phone applications with overviews of environmentally friendly dinner options as well as clothing stores (Agathe). The inclusion of eating out in their concern contributes to the overall high level of coherence in the buying practices of comprehensive environmentalists. This can also be seen in their buying almost all of their products in their sustainable versions, generally in the shape of organic products which are for the most part bought at organic stores.

Moving to comprehensive environmentalists’ access issues, their most significant and distinctive access issue is the role of the social (i.e. social environment). All category members make reference to having felt hindered in some way and at some point by their social environment in choosing for environmentally friendly food. This links with Ossipow’s aforementioned fourth religious conversion theme, i.e. incomprehension of the social environment vis-à-vis ‘converts’ new food habits. For instance, Stephanie, who is a vegan, has felt socially obliged to discard her vegan principles when offered home-made cake containing dairy products, feeling it would be rude to refuse when someone had put in so much effort. Another example concerning eating out is brought up by both Christian and Bruno, who do try to look for environmentally friendly food options when eating out, but sometimes when going out with friends they feel they have to adapt to the group.

On the other hand, the social environment can also further access. Most comprehensive environmentalists have likeminded social circles: a concern with the (physical) environment seems to be an important factor for them in choosing a social environment. Many people brought up how friends or housemates have in fact helped them in advancing their accessing sustainable food by for instance teaching them how to cook certain seasonal foods. Finding access is easier due to this social circle and awareness grows through it. Perhaps due to this increasing awareness, however, which goes hand in hand with higher levels of engagements and commitment, the social becomes an obstacle outside of the comprehensive environmentalists’ circle of friends. Social environment thus can both hinder and promote access.

This double sidedness of social access issues can be elucidated by bringing in Haluza-DeLay (2008), whose main argument concerns the function of environment-oriented social movements. Based on Bourdieu, Haluza-DeLay contends that the mission of these groups consists in creating an ecological habitus, one which is necessarily at odds with society’s environmentally flawed habitus. The author argues that social movements are alternative fields where a particular ‘sens pratique’ can be developed and where social learning can take place. This learning is best accomplished “within an alternate order in which the altered habitus ‘makes sense’” (p.214), as “in the social fields of an environmentally unsound society an ecologically oriented habitus will be a misfit” (p.205).

Linking these remarks about social movements to my own findings leads to the following argument. Although not all comprehensive environmentalists have participated or are participating in explicit environment-oriented social movements as such, perhaps Haluza-DeLay’s observation also holds

60 true, albeit in a weaker version, for social circles. Comprehensive environmentalists move in social circles that are largely on the same wave length when it comes to caring for the environment and in which there is room for alternative engagements, rules and know-how to be developed. Social movements are ‘producers of knowledge’ (Haluza-DeLay), and social circles can be too, for instance by recommending to other members documentaries to watch, articles to read or environmentally friendly restaurants to visit, in order to deepen fellow practitioners’ engagements and knowledge, as multiple interviewees indicated was the case for them. Environmentally oriented social circles can thus serve as ‘communities of practice’ (Wenger, 1999, as referred to buy Shove et al, 2012) in which participation in the practice of buying sustainable food can be enhanced and elaborated.

Belonging to such an environmentally minded social circle corresponds with a lifestyle of which the pillar for one’s basic narrative or self-identity is a concern with the environment. It is this conviction that serves as a core around which comprehensive environmentalists’ other practices are integrated. To speak with Shove et al., “[a]s people become committed to the practices they carry, their status changes sometimes to the point that they become that which they do” (2012, p.70). This also translates in the near absence of convenience access issues among this type. Instead, these practitioners have conformed themselves to the rhythm and temporality of the practice and are willing to adjust their routines, to go out of their way, to arrive at buying sustainable food and more largely at a sustainable lifestyle.

Finally, the role of the material in the form of finances presents itself in the same form for comprehensive environmentalists as it did for the food and balancing environmentalists as described above. Although they do have slightly higher overall budgets than the other groups, neither their average food budgets nor the percentage of their budgets spent on food are significantly high (see table 4). As such, it is unfair to say that these people are more successful at buying sustainable food than the others due to their financial situation. Rather, in balancing prices with convictions, comprehensive environmentalists go further in favouring the latter. This translates into a larger willingness to adapt in the face of the financial challenge. For instance, comprehensive environmentalists are more ready to prioritize food in their budgeting, as Bruno illustrates: “I figured that if I try to minimize eating out in restaurants, that really makes a significant price difference, I figured that on that condition I could afford almost any organic product I want. Rather than saying, I'm going out, and afterwards I'll restrict my budget and buy poor quality stuff, I prefer to try to limit outings, or in any case to restaurants for example, to continue being able to afford buying organic.”28 When comparing himself with his friends, Bruno notes that they have similar (comfortable) budgets, but not the same priorities. Julian also states, “I am ready to pay more for food that corresponds with my concerns, that’s no problem.”29

Furthermore, the following example of Agathe once more illustrates that comprehensive environmentalists make a distinct choice in what to sacrifice in the clash between money and

28 « Je me dis, si j’essaye de limiter au maximum les sorties en restaurants, à l’extérieur, qui font vraiment une différence de prix importante, je me dis qu’à cette condition-là je peux me permettre presque je veux en bio. Plutôt que me dire, je vais sortir, et puis je vais restreindre mon budget, acheter des trucs de mauvaise qualité, je préfère essayer de limiter les sorties, et en tout cas aux restaurants par exemple, pour pouvoir continuer de me permettre d’acheter bio » (Bruno). 29 « Je suis prêt à payer plus cher pour de la nourriture qui correspond plus à mes préoccupations, c’est pas de problème » (Julian) 61 principles. In her “before” era (i.e. before the environment started to play a role in her daily choices), Agathe used to often cook one of her favourite recipes with a particular kind of fish. However, upon moving to more environmentally conscious buying practices, she was faced with the much higher price (3 times as high) of this fish in its organic version. Nevertheless, instead of resorting to buying the non-organic fish, Agathe decided not to cook that recipe anymore. This anecdote demonstrates the higher extent of commitment to the practice comprehensive environmentalists generally have in the face of financial access challenges. Another example can be found with Stephanie, who comes from a poor family and is very aware of money, reiterating time and again the advantages of being a vegan in financial terms as well. Stephanie, faced with the high prices of food in organic stores, became innovative and decided to go for an alternative way of buying organic food, i.e. online bulk purchase through the website www.basebio.com. In this way, she was still able to buy sustainable food at an affordable price. Stephanie is quick to emphasize how eating less or no meat and dairy products is financially attractive as well: “It’s good when economic reasons combine with ethical reasons, that’s practical.”30 In short, finances do not present an insurmountable access issue for comprehensive environmentalists, but one that requires tolerable adjustment.

5.3 The role of information An issue of access that has come up in many of the interviews but that has not been discussed up until now is the problem of information. The reason for not dealing with this element before is that information is a problem that goes beyond the practice of buying sustainable food and concerns buying food and other products in general. The issue of information provision has to do with the consumer’s ability at large to make informed choices about the food they are buying, and raises questions not just of accessibility or availability but also of visibility.

Poor information provision on the origin of the products on offer as well as on the origin of the ingredients in these products is repeatedly highlighted as hindering people in acting accord to their convictions. To quote Arthur here, in answering whether he manages to find the information he needs on the origin of products,

“It depends on the product. In my supermarket, it’s not so clear. For fruits and vegetables it is marked, sometimes ‘origin: France’, and for eggs, but it is not always that clear, and the same goes for milk. So for the AMAP I know, I know the producer, but for the sandwiches at Sciences Po, not at all. At Sciences Po I don’t know where their products come from, and neither at the university canteen.”31

This problem is reflected by many other interviewees, particularly the latter point about eating out. Living in a big city like Paris makes it impossible to really know restaurant or café owners as one does in a village, where it is therefore also easier to talk directly to the restaurant owner and ask them about the origin of their products, as Chloe indicates she liked to do back home. Not knowing where the food you buy and consume is produced makes it difficult to know about its environmental

30 « C’est bon quand la raison économique se rejoint avec la raison éthique, c’est pratique » (Stephanie). 31 « Ça dépend, de quoi. Dans mon supermarché, pas trop. Les fruits et les légumes c’est marqué, des fois, ‘origine : France’, pour les œufs, mais, pas c’est toujours forcément clair, le lait pareil. Du coup pour l’AMAP je sais, je connais le producteur, mais pour les sandwichs de Sciences Po, pas du tout. A Sciences Po je sais pas d’où viennent leur produits, et le RU, je sais pas non plus « (Arthur) 62 impact. For some people, this problem of a lack of information provision even applies to products carrying an organic or fair trade label. Multiple interviewees (Thomas, Coline, Farah) express distrust in these labels. For instance, Thomas states

“That does not mean that when I buy organic, I can be sure that all is well, and that it corresponds to things with which I fully agree. (…) You only have the information you have access to, so that means, yes, I’d change if one day I discovered that in fact it was a lie, for 10 years, then I’d stop. Although I really don’t think that will happen, but I don’t know.”32

One approach to resolve this issue of access can be found once again in the world of digitalization, as applications exist with overviews of organic, local and otherwise sustainable restaurants, which help towards the provision of information. Nevertheless, as Agathe, a user of such apps, hastens to add these digital applications are still in their infancy and need to be further developed in order to really contribute to increasing access, as for instance opening times of these restaurants are now often either not included or are wrong. Additionally, another important manner in which the students address this information issue is by, like Arthur, becoming a member of an AMAP. At least with the AMAP, one can be sure about the origin of the products as well as about their method of production, because one knows the producer and can even go and visit him or her on his or her farm.

To further understand this response and why it works for all types of abovementioned environmentalists, I will briefly elaborate Lamine (2008)’s ‘modes of delegation’ here, as there are partial/multiple delegation and total delegation of one’s choices and one’s expectations to another party. The latter type of delegation is mostly found among Lamine’s ‘purists’, as opposed to a partial or multiple mode of delegation that characterizes the intermittents. A subscription to a vegetable box scheme, then, is exemplified by Lamine as an instance of the former, total and irreversible delegation of choice, as full trust is placed in the supplier of the AMAP and in his methods of production. Interestingly, however, an AMAP at the same time fits a mode of delegation that is multiple and typifies intermittent buyers, as this box scheme only provides for part of the total food consumed (i.e. usually only vegetables and sometimes fruits) and as such still leaves room for autonomy in other food domains.

In sum, considering the issue of information in the context of this research shows how visibility presents an access problem for consumers who try and shop consciously. Organic labelling may partially contribute to improving this clarity, but trust issues about the verity of these labels appear to go deep. Short circuit options with face-to-face contact between consumer and producer, as epitomized by the AMAPs, can be promising.

32 « Ça veut pas dire autant qu’on achète du bio, je peux être sûr que tout va bien, et que, ça correspond à des trucs, avec lesquels je suis tout à fait d’accord. (…) Tu as que l’information dont tu disposes, du coup, ça veut dire, oui, je changerais si un jour je découvrais qu’en fait, c’était un mensonge, depuis dix ans, alors j’arrêterais. Après, oui, je pense vrai pas que ça arrive, mais je sais pas » (Thomas). 63

6. Discussion and conclusion

What do patterns of buying sustainable food look like among Parisian students? The answer to this question starts from Warde (2005)’s observation: the effect of production on consumption is moderated by the nexus of practices. The value of practice theory as a theoretical and analytical framework for interpreting social reality has once again become clear throughout its application to the question of access to sustainable food. Indeed, the complexities of agency and structure are best understood by a focus on the practice, which decentres both of these elements. By its combined movement of zooming in and zooming out (Nicolini, 2013), a praxeological approach has demonstrated how access to sustainable food is usefully understood neither as a problem of provision nor as a problem of consumption, but as a problem of practices. Access issues appear to be correlated with people’s modes of recruitment and engagement into the practice as well as their degree of commitment to the practice and bundles of practice they participate in.

To elaborate this general conclusion, then, the remainder of this chapter summarizes and reflects on each of the subquestions as put forward in chapter one, i.e.

A) What does the practice of buying sustainable food look like among Parisian students? (6.1) B) Which elements constituting access are considered important by the participants in this practice? (6.2) C) How does the practice of buying sustainable food fit into a larger bundle of practices? (6.3)

Section 6.1 additionally includes some theoretical concerns on practices that emerged out of this research. Subsection 6.1.2 discusses a question about the nature of the typology presented above: is it a categorization of different types of practitioners or rather of different types of practices? This is followed by a short exploration on the nature of the teleoaffectivity of a practice in light of the diverse motivations for practitioners to buy sustainable food that were brought up during the interviews, such as health and quality (6.1.3).

6.1 What does the practice of buying sustainable food look like among Parisian students? In her analysis of cooking practices among Danish women, Halkier (2009) concludes the following. Cooking practices are

“full of expressions of ambivalences, legitimations, exceptions and negotiations (…) [which] suggest that it is analytically useful to see cooking practices as subtle processes of contextually organized and negotiated performances, rather than building on simplified framings of everyday cooking that might lead to normative societal initiatives attempting to change everyday cooking practices on unrealistic cultural bases and in ways which underestimate the complexities of cooking agency” (p.374).

What applies to cooking practices for Danish women also rings true for the practice of buying sustainable food among students in Paris as studied in this thesis. Doing justice to this complex reality and answering the first subquestion of what buying sustainable food looks like among Parisian students, then, is best possible through a practice theoretical perspective, as I have made an effort to

64 explain and illustrate above. Having already elaborately mapped out the practice above, this section now serves to evaluate the framework used to describe and understand the practice of buying sustainable food (6.1.1); to reflect on the nature of the typology that came out of this framework (6.1.2); and to assess Schatzki’s concept of the teleo-affectivity of a practice (6.1.3).

6.1.1 Evaluating the typology markers In order to accurately map the practice of buying sustainable food among Parisian students, I have drawn on existing practice theory literature to find theoretical concepts that were suitable for explaining and appreciating the ‘ambivalences, legitimations, exceptions and negotiations’ (Halkier) that I found within my sample. As the previous chapter outlines in detail, I chose four markers to distinguish between people participating in the practice of buying sustainable food, i.e. (1) mode of recruitment (borrowed from Shove), (2) mode of engagement, (3) degree of commitment (both borrowed from Southerton) and (4) bundles of practice (borrowed from Schatzki). Reflecting on these indicators and their distinctive value leads to the following evaluation.

The first marker, mode of recruitment, has proven particularly insightful, as it served as an entry to assess practice trajectories, in the sense of individual’s trajectories into the practice. Understanding exactly how and why people turned into practitioners turned out to be vital and significant towards understanding the extent of people’s concern with sustainability and/or food and as such towards explaining people’s actual buying patterns. Lamine (2008)’s concepts of continuation, inflection and conversion were also very fitting and analytically useful here and could continue to help provide insights into distinctive modes of recruitment for practices beyond the buying, cooking and consumption of sustainable or organic food. Applied to ‘mode of recruitment’ in this way, Lamine’s concepts can aid further understanding of successes and failures, stability and change, and trajectories and dynamics of social practices.

When it comes to the second marker, mode of engagement did not differentiate as strongly between the three types as the first marker did. Similarities between the sort of engagement could be found among the first two types (i.e. both shared a concern for the environment that competed or co- occurred with concerns about health, quality and ethics), and similarities in the focus of engagement also existed among the second and the third type: both balancing and comprehensive environmentalists extended their concerns about the environment beyond the domain of food only. However, despite these resemblances, paying attention to practitioners’ modes of engagement is valuable as it leads to a clearer understanding of how people’s motivations for participating in the practice of buying sustainable food need not necessarily stem from a concern with sustainability. Understanding modes of engagement is therefore important for gaining insight into individuals’ different reasons for buying sustainable food and as such can be useful for responding to and addressing in a focused way people’s sensitivities and concerns prompting them to buy sustainable food.

Thirdly, the indicator degree of commitment showed clearer differences between the three types. This marker is principally important in light of understanding and evaluating dynamics and change within the practice. If it were up to the first type (the food environmentalist), buying sustainable food would remain a relatively small practice, rather heavily competing with the practice of buying conventional food and suffering from financial and time constraints. The balancing environmentalist

65 shows a higher degree of commitment, but especially the last type is of interest for its willingness to push its own limits and the limits of the practice. Such a high degree of commitment to the practice appears to go together with an eagerness and enthusiasm to change other practices for the sake of being able to participate more fully in the practice of buying sustainable food. In order for the practice of buying sustainable food to persist and even expand, it seems important to continue recruiting practitioners with high degrees of commitment, which in fact can be done by these current comprehensive environmentalists who are eager to speak about their participation in the practice around them and thereby sensitive and motivate others.

Lastly, the marker of bundles of practice was less distinctive for each of the types, as similarities between the second and third type were apparent. Nevertheless, this indicator is important as it does distinguish clearly between the first and third type and serves to explain the place of the practice in a practitioner’s lifestyle (Giddens), i.e. the set of practices an individual engages in that together shape one’s narrative or identity. This point will be elaborated upon in section 6.3 on bundles of practice.

In short, these four markers have all, to various degrees, proven their analytical worth for my research and sample. For my purposes, then, these indicators were all significant and essential to clarify differences in the practice of buying sustainable food, as well as sufficient and exhaustive. Taken together, these indicators serve in the general argument of this that buying sustainable food is not an unambiguous deed but rather the result of a practitioner’s previous involvement in a variety of other practices and social circles in interaction with the available physical channels, financial resources and housing situation. To return to Spurling et al. (2013), observable behaviour is just the tip of the iceberg, and rather than studying this in isolation, the researcher should examine the practice as entity in order to do justice to social reality, by studying modes of recruitment and engagement, degrees of commitment and bundles of practice. In other words, the practice should be seen as embedded in a network of socially shared tastes and meanings, knowledge and skills, and materials and infrastructure. It is through considering this whole that the question of buying and access to sustainable food can usefully be interpreted, as will be done in section 6.2 below.

6.1.2 Practices or practitioners? This section will address a theoretical concern on practice theory that has been brought up by Shove and Spurling (2013) and that arises again in this research. This issue has to do with how to delimit a practice and relates to the typology presented in chapter five. Based on considerations on the boundaries of a practice, the nature of this typology may change. Put differently, the question arises whether the three types of environmentalists should be seen as just stronger and milder versions of one and the same practice (a typology of practitioners) or rather as different practices (a typology of practices).

In order to answer this question, first of all a set of criteria for delimiting a practice are needed. An effort to answer this question through empirical research has been made by Dobernig, Veen, and Oosterveer (forthcoming), who compared two cases of growing urban food in Amsterdam and New York to evaluate their similarities and differences in practice terms. The criteria they used to assess the sameness of these two practices were twofold. Firstly, they compared the cases based on the internal components of the two practices, i.e. Shove et al. (2012)’s materials, competences and

66 meanings. Secondly, they used a diachronic approach to see how practices of growing urban food connected with other practices.

Starting with the first criterion, the component of materials appears to be the same for each of the three types. The channels offering sustainable food are identical for food, balancing and comprehensive environmentalists, their financial circumstances are slightly but not significantly different, and housing presents a similar challenge to each of the groups. Secondly, competences are also largely comparable. Each of the students knows how to cook and has a sufficient degree of digital literacy to be able to use the internet to find recipes with for instance less known seasonal vegetables, and to inform themselves about the various options of buying sustainable food, about seasonable fruits and vegetables, about the level of sustainability of numerous products, etc. However, the extent to which these competences are developed does differ between the groups. Comprehensive environmentalists appear to be most skilled at using the internet to arrive at buying sustainable food. Lastly, the third element, meaning is also different in intensity among the three types. The prominence of the link human-nature and the responsibility that comes with this relation is present in all three groups, but its depth and the consequences thereof differ for the types. Additionally, whereas for the first two (i.e. food and balancing environmentalists), the values of health and quality are also considered important towards buying sustainable food and as such compete for meaning, this is not or hardly the case for comprehensive environmentalists. In sum, when looking at Dobernig et al.’s first criterion, it seems that the materials, competences and meanings do not differ fundamentally between the types, but only gradually. The form or framework of these components is essentially similar among the groups, yet they differ in degree.

The second criterion by Dobernig et al. (forthcoming) concerns the connection of the practice at hand with other practices. These connections have been described in detail above for each type under the marker ‘bundles of practice’. There are clear differences in this respect between the food environmentalists on the one hand and the balancing and comprehensive environmentalists on the other. For the latter, buying sustainable food is related to change in other domains such as transportation, recycling and saving energy. Moreover, for comprehensive environmentalists, the practice of buying sustainable food has even come to replace the practice of buying ‘conventional’ food and as such fundamentally changed the practice of food acquisitioning.

From this short examination, it appears that “doings and sayings” (from Schatzki’s description of a practice, in full "an open-ended, spatially-temporally dispersed nexus of doings and sayings”, Schatzki, 2013) differ between food, balancing and comprehensive environmentalists. Firstly, their doings are different in the sense of Dobernig et al.’s last criterion: the practice of buying sustainable food differently affects other practices for each of the types and as such leads to particular doings. Secondly, their sayings are also distinct, as food, balancing and comprehensive environmentalists invoke different meanings and motivations to describe their participation in the practice of buying sustainable food. To put it differently, returning to the notion of access, the types of environmentalists each have access to a distinct set of know-how and embodied habits, institutionalized knowledge and engagements. In short, these apparent differences between the three types of environmentalists plead in favour of conceiving of the typology as a reflection of three distinct practices, i.e. as three variations on the practice of buying sustainable food.

On the other hand, the actual components of the practice (criterion 1) are still largely similar for each of the environmentalists. Moreover, Shove et al. (2012) also deal more explicitly with differences between practitioners or carriers of the practice in their book. They distinguish between less and more committed carriers, referring to the latter as ‘full practitioners’. Additionally, they crucially state that “at any one moment, a practice will be populated and carried by people with different degrees of experience and commitment” (p.71). In this conceptualization, then, the typology of environmentalists appears to be one of practitioners, rather than of distinct practices.

In sum, then, practice theorists employ different criteria for how to delimit a practice, and a case could be made both for the typology representing practices and for the types being practitioners. What remains clear, however, are differences in modes of recruitment and engagement, degrees of commitment and bundles of practice between various participants in the practice. At the same time, more theoretical clarity is required on whether these difference suffice for qualifying as differences between practices or between practitioners. This ambiguity leads to a call towards practice theory to better develop and specify more unanimous touchstones and benchmarks for delimiting a practice. Such clearer analytical tools from the field of practice theory will methodologically benefit further practice research.

6.1.3 Teleoaffectivity of the practice This section briefly addresses another theoretical consideration, namely on Schatzki’s notion of the teleo-affective structure of a practice. This discussion is based on numerous interviewees’ mention of multiple, different motivations to participate in the practice of buying sustainable food vying for dominance. These are, as stated before, concerns with health, quality and/or ethics, competing with a concern about the environment.

To recapitulate, teleo-affectivity is ‘a set of ends, projects, tasks, purposes, beliefs, emotions and moods’. As Schatzki elaborates,

“A practice always exhibits a set of ends that participants should or may pursue, a range of projects that they should or may carry out for the sake of these ends, and a selection of tasks that they should or may perform for the sake of those projects. (…) Coordinated with this teleological structuring are emotions and moods that participants should or may enjoy. (…) To say that doings and sayings are linked by a teleo-affective structure is to say that they pursue end-project combinations that are contained in the same teleo-affective structure” (Schatzki, 2002, p.80).

The teleo-affective structure of the practice of buying sustainable food, then, seems to integrate the end of preserving the physical environment with efforts to keep up good health, among others through eating high quality foods, and to ensure animal wellbeing (ethics).

Understanding and taking seriously these additional ‘teloses’ that also structure the practice of buying sustainable food could prove insightful for directing sustainable consumption policy. A valuable recent study that also reiterates this point can be found in Dubuisson-Quellier and Gojard (2016)’s work on food practices in France. The authors conducted an ethnographic study into food practices and the way people describe them, and found that eco-friendly practices do occur, but that when people display them, they associate them with other ends than with preserving the

68 environment. In other words, a large proportion of eco-friendly practices are in continuity with what people are already doing. The consequences of this observation for policy are, as Dubuisson-Quellier and Gojard put it, that “these very widespread actions [i.e. indirectly eco-friendly actions] could be promoted as such; that is, as practices with which most [people] can identify themselves” (p.24).

For the practice of buying sustainable food, this means that a focus on health and ethics could help advance the practice, for instance by stimulating a lower consumption of meat, which simultaneously benefits the environment and one’s health. Practices can thus become eco-friendly as a side-effect, or as an ‘unintended consequence’ (Giddens). Concentrating on these unintended consequences may be promising on a policy level towards involving a larger number of people in contributing to sustainability. Perhaps this could even work for financial concerns, by responding to many people’s focus on thrift and economizing. By informing these people about cheaper alternatives for meat, they could be incentivized to eat less meat.

At the same time, on a theoretical level, the concept of teleo-affectivity warrants some more attention when considering those practices as described by Dubuisson-Quellier and Gojard that are not deliberately environmentally friendly and in which its practitioners even express a certain aversion against eco-friendliness. The remark made by these authors in combination with my own observations begs the question of to what extent the practitioner has to share in the telos of the practice he or she participates in. In other words, if a person buys sustainable food but does so for health reasons only and does not care about the environment, is it fair to describe the practice as ‘buying sustainable food’? To answer this question, let us revisit Schatzki, who states that

“A person need not be thematically aware of the teleological end points that determine what makes sense to him or her to do. (…) Teleo-affective structures are recurring and evolving effects of what actors do together with what determines this. They themselves, however, do not govern activity. Activity is governed by practical intelligibility, which is itself determined by mental conditions” (Schatzki, 2002, p.81).

In other words, by zooming out of the individual practitioner and focusing on the practice as a whole, individual motivations are decentred. Rather, it is ‘what actors do together’ that makes up teleo- affective structure of the practice. Participating in the practice of buying sustainable food can thus also occur when one primarily pursues the end of being healthy or ethical, and these latter ends should accordingly be taken seriously when drawing up policy to enhance sustainable consumption.

6.2 Which elements constituting access are considered important by the participants in this practice? This research has shown how the access issues encountered by the students examined were not clear-cut or absolute. As such, it is impossible or at least useless to draw general conclusions about the access situation of sustainable food in Paris for students. Rather, as mentioned before, access issues appear to be correlated with people’s modes of recruitment and engagement into the practice as well as their degree of commitment to the practice. As has been elaborated in detail through the typology presented in chapter five, the extent to which people are dedicated towards preserving the environment influences their willingness to go out of their way to arrive at buying sustainable food, and in this line also shapes their access issues. For instance, for comprehensive environmentalists,

69 who feel a high sense of responsibility for the environment, the social environment can be an access issue, as buying and consuming sustainable food is something they feel strongly about and for which they have gone to great lengths to adapt their eating habits (e.g. by becoming vegetarian or even vegan). This is not as prevalent an issue of access for food environmentalists though, who mainly struggle with convenience competing with their principles in buying sustainable food, something comprehensive environmentalists do not grapple with as much because they are more willing to adapt their routines to buy sustainable food.

Considering access in this way also has its consequences for thinking about the concept of food deserts, as touched upon in chapter one. As briefly elaborated there as well, Caillavet et al. (2015) contend the idea that limited access to – in their case, healthy – food matters towards poor dietary choices. The authors have argued that this does not hold in a general sense in a French urban setting. This thesis reiterates Caillavet et al. (2015)’s critical stance on the idea of food deserts. As described above, students are somewhere around or even below the poverty line and as such qualify as ‘low income communities’. Despite their limited financial resources and their residence in a highly urbanized area, students do still manage to find access to sustainable food. Their achievements or lacks of success in finding access to sustainable food are not unequivocally dependent on the availability of channels offering these foods, but rather are also contingent on students’ other lifestyle elements.

Despite these critical remarks, it is clear that some channels offering sustainable food are more and others less successful at contributing to accessibility for Parisian students. Looking from a practice perspective and from the aggregate of students’ lifestyles helps explain the success of some and the failure of other channels. A fitting example in this regard can be found when comparing the AMAPs with the street markets regarding the temporalities these practices produce, and the extent to which these are in agreement with those of student life. Time in student life is a rather fickle and unpredictable concept, as students commonly do not lead as structured and orderly a life, with irregular lecture schedules but also being away for larger periods of time during internships. As such, the fixed and limited ‘opening hours’ of street markets present a problem of access. Whereas many students indicated they used to go to the market when growing up in a village and that this was a good and cheap way of buying often local and seasonal fruits and vegetables, their current lifestyle does not match the rhythm of the street market anymore. Most street markets open on Sunday mornings, which several students mark as a timeslot designated for sleeping in after partying on Saturday night. Using this channel therefore requires planning priority, which not all students are willing to give it.

On the other hand, the practice of the AMAP has successfully evolved itself to fit the rhythms of student life. Initially being installed through and in neighbourhoods, the temporality produced by the practice was rather stringent, with membership being stable for one year at a time. As this rhythm was too rigid for students, special student AMAPs were installed that were specifically tailored to the student lifestyle, for instance with membership per month instead of per year. Moreover, the AMAP membership only requires a small effort, i.e. picking up the vegetable box each week, but as the distribution usually takes place at university, this presents only minimal effort and can easily be combined with going to classes. The AMAP is a channel that is used by all types of environmentalists, and multiple students also mention the cost-friendly nature of the vegetable box scheme. In this way, organic, local food does not necessarily have to cost a lot more.

To continue with this point on costs, another important finding of this research concerns the issue of finances. Its role is particularly important to reiterate here as it is often mentioned by people not involved in the practice of buying sustainable food – and thus not included in this sample – as a hindrance to their entering the practice: people often state they do not buy sustainable (in this case, mostly organic) food because of its elevated prices. Examining the way in which practitioners of the practice of buying sustainable food negotiate the question of money with their convictions has been insightful in evaluating the position of finances towards access. The main result of this research in this regard is that finances matter but are not insuperable in finding access to sustainable food. Seeing that at least some students who live around the poverty line manage to succeed at buying sustainable food despite their poor financial circumstances, the problem of finances in access is maybe not as pressing as is often assumed – although it should not be completely dismissed either. Still, what we can learn by looking at the student sample as presented above is students’ resourcefulness in for instance rearranging budgetary priorities in the face of financial challenges and in adapting their cooking habits to better be able to balance finances and environmental concern.

What matters more than focusing on the financial disadvantages of buying sustainable food, however, is enabling access by better aligning the various practices associated with buying sustainable food and their temporalities and rhythms with the lifestyle of students, in order to also include those who are less committed. Addressing the issue of access means addressing it in the dynamics of social practices, targeting the practice as entity rather than the practice as performance (Spurling et al., 2013). Concretely, this is already happening by accommodating shoppers through making organic products available in supermarkets, which only requires a slight change of course, and by adapting the AMAP to better fit the rhythm of student life. Alternatively, efforts could respond to people’s habits of eating in university canteens and aim for offering sustainable food options there, which again demands no grand gestures but anticipates well people’s propensity for convenience.

Moreover, there is also potential in the increase of the use of digital applications such as OptiMiam (an anti-food waste app with an overview of the local (i.e. Paris) offer of fresh products that would otherwise be thrown out, with reductions) and YesWeGreen (an app with information on local eco- friendly projects such as restaurants, second-hand stores, AMAPs and community gardens), as mentioned and used by Agathe. Together with AMAP Facebook groups for sharing recipes and a large range of online food blogs, these digital technologies develop and respond well to student lifestyle and hold promises for increasing access to buying sustainable food. Particularly the issue of a lack of available information can be addressed in this way.

6.3 How does the practice of buying sustainable food fit into a larger bundle of practice? To answer this third and last subquestion means to look at the place of the practice of buying sustainable food in relation to other practices. To recap, both Schatzki and Shove have written about bundles of practice. According to Schatzki, practices are linked into a bundle of practice when linkages occur in elements, timespaces, doings and sayings, chains of action, and/or intentionality (Schatzki, 2011). Shove uses a less demarcated concept of bundles of practice when describing them as “loose-knit patterns based on the co-location and co-existence of practices” (p.81).

In order to find out about and map the practices that bundled with the practice of buying sustainable food, I included in my interview guide a question about whether people did anything else outside of buying sustainable food to take the environment into account (see appendix 2). The various answers to this question have been discussed in some detail in chapter five already under the marker ‘bundles of practice’ and include the practices of recycling, saving energy, buying second-hand, transportation and activism. What has become clear from these results and their analysis, however, is that like for access, it is impossible to provide a general and overall answer to the question about how the practice of buying sustainable food fits into a larger bundle of practice.

Rather, a more appropriate and nuanced answer can be found by taking a broader view on the practice, importantly including people’s trajectories into the practice and their modes of engagement and degrees of commitment. Piecing together these different aspects about each type of practitioner leads to insight into understanding the how and the why of the position the practice of buying sustainable food occupies in relation to other practices. Giddens’ concept of lifestyle with its idea of a narrative or identity emerging from the set of practices an individual engages in also proves particularly insightful. As Giddens explains, the practices one engages in together form an assemblage of habits, routines and orientations, with an overall unity. The nature or central focus of this unity or self-identity however differs for the various types as outlined in chapter five, which in turn has consequences for the position of the practice of buying sustainable food and for the priority (or lack thereof) it is granted by its practitioners vis-à-vis other practices.

For those for whom protecting the environment is such a central narrative – i.e. for the comprehensive environmentalists – buying sustainable food is closely related to participation in a larger set of ‘pro-environmental’ practices such as the abovementioned practices of recycling and saving energy. Notably, the practice of buying sustainable food is also embedded and grounded in a likeminded social circle or network for these people. Having such a compatible social environment appears to be important for developing one’s environmental concern into a larger bundle of practices. Fellow environmental enthusiasts can help each other in thinking of new ways in which to expand bundles of practice, as for instance interviewees Christian and Lea inspired each other to change to a greener bank.

On the other hand, people with a lower amount of related practices less often make mention of a concern for the environment being typical of their social circle and also indicate a resistance to being known as a ‘bobo’ or ‘eco-freak’. Caring for the environment is not a central identity marker for them in this sense. As such, the embeddedness of the practice of buying sustainable food in a social network carrying the practice is not as strong for these people, who also have a weaker bundle of practice related to the practice of buying sustainable food.

In short, the position of the practice of buying sustainable food in a larger bundle of practice cannot not unequivocally be determined and is at least partially dependent on the social circle the practitioner and the practice are embedded in. Like access to sustainable food, the relationship between this practice and a larger bundle of practice should be seen as a result of the dynamics of practice and can only usefully be understood and interpreted from a comprehensive, practice theoretical perspective.

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APPENDIX 1: Message for recruiting participants

Bonjour!

Je suis Anke, une étudiante néerlandaise en Master 2. Je fais de la recherche à Paris pour mon mémoire qui porte sur l’accès à une alimentation respectueuse de l’environnement : quelles difficultés rencontrent les étudiants à Paris, quelles solutions ont-ils trouvées ? Si tu te préoccupes des conséquences de ta consommation alimentaire pour l’environnement, j’aimerais avoir un entretien avec toi. Contacte-moi par mail ou téléphone pour arranger un rendez-vous. Une seule condition : j’enquête seulement auprès d’étudiants qui n’habitent pas avec leurs parents.

Merci d’avance, cela m’aiderait beaucoup pour mon mémoire !

Cordialement,

Anke Brons Adresse e-mail: [email protected] Téléphone: +33 6 77525724

Hi!

I am Anke, a Dutch Master student. I am conducting research in Paris for my master thesis on access to environmentally friendly food: what difficulties do Parisian students encounter, what solutions did they find? If you are concerned about the consequences of your food consumption on the environment, I would like to have an interview with you. Contact me by email or by phone to arrange a meeting. Just one condition: I am only interviewing students who do not live with their parents.

Thanks in advance, it would help me a lot with my thesis!

Kind regards, Anke Brons

APPENDIX 2: Interview guide [French and English] French 0. [introduction] recherche parmi des gens qui s’intéressent aux conséquences de leur alimentation pour l’environnement. Plus précisément, je m’interroge sur l’accès à une alimentation respectueuse de l’environnement. / Tu resteras anonyme. / Est-ce que je peux aussi t’accompagner pour un suivi de courses plus tard? 1. [routines] Comment tu t’y prends à acheter d’alimentation qui respecte l’environnement? (décris en détail) a. Quels produits (alimentaires) ? L’alimentation bio ? Viande ? Locale ? Saisonnier ? Emballage : en vrac ? b. Où trouves-tu ces produits ? Pourquoi vas-tu là ? Tu y vas souvent ? c. Facile/difficile ? Contraintes ? Est-ce qu’il y a des produits que tu as du mal à trouver ? Comment fais-tu ? d. Quel moyen de transport tu utilises ? Est-ce que c’est commode ? Sinon : quel est le problème : distance, correspondance, coûts? Qu’est-ce que tu fais ? e. L’environnement est-il le critère principal pour tes achats d’alimentation? Autres critères ? f. Quels aspects de l’environnement te préoccupent le plus? Est-ce que tu fais d’autres choses en plus de ta consommation alimentaire (pour travailler sur ces aspects)? (laver le linge, transports) 2. [logement] Tu trouves que tu as assez d’espace chez toi? a. Cuisine ? Frigo/congélateur/four? + limité? Comment fais-tu ? b. Cuisiner: qui? Fréquence? Aime/n’aime pas? Est-ce qu’il y a des produits que tu n’achètes pas car tu ne sais pas les cuisiner ? c. Manger : seul /ensemble ? 3. [finances] Est-ce que tu as décidé de dépenser une certaine somme pour l’alimentation? (combien?) a. Produits trop chers en bio? Qu’est-ce que tu fais ? b. Tu trouves que ton budget te limite ou t’aide à tenir compte de l’environnement dans ton alimentation ? c. Parents (donnent des courses/légumes/aide financière) ? 4. [consommation alimentaire en dehors de chez toi] Est-ce que tu manges souvent en dehors de chez toi? a. Resto-U ? Parents ? Amies ? Fastfood ? b. Est-ce que tu y cherches aussi des options respectueuses de l’environnement ? Ça marche ou pas ? Quels problèmes tu rencontres ? Comment fais-tu ? 5. [compréhension commune/sens] Est-ce que tu parles souvent avec d’autres gens de ce sujet ? (l’impact de leur alimentation sur l’environnement) a. De quoi est-ce que tu parles avec d´autres gens comme toi ? Lieus, stratégies, pétitions ? b. Est-ce que c’était d’autre gens qui t’ont motivé initialement pour commencer ? Tes parents, des amies ? Sinon, d’où venait ta motivation principale ? c. Il y a combien de temps que tu as commencé ? Est-ce que tu penses poursuivre dans cette voie ? Est-ce que tu peux penser des raisons pour lesquelles tu arrêteras ? 6. [général]

a. Age b. Diplômes /professions des parents c. Travail/études d. Université e. Revenue, loyer

English

0. [introduction] research among people who are interested in the consequences of their food consumption on the environment; more precisely: access to buying environmentally friendly food/ You will stay anonymous/ Can I also come along when you’ll be doing your shopping? 1. [routines] Can you tell me what happens when you go shopping for environmentally friendly food? a. Which products? Organic food? Meat? Local? Seasonal vegetables? Packaging: no wrapping? b. Where do you find these products? Why do you go there? How often? c. Easy/difficult; constraints? How to get around them; strategies? d. Means of transport; easy/difficult? If not, what is the problem: distance, transfer, costs? What do you do? e. Sustainability main criterion? Other criteria? f. Which aspects of the environment are you most concerned about? Do you do anything else outside of your food consumption to work on that? (e.g. doing your laundry; transportation) 2. [housing] Do you feel you have enough space in your home? a. Kitchen? Fridge/freezer/oven + limited? What do you do? b. Cooking: who? Frequency? Like/dislike? Are there any products you don’t buy because you don’t know how to cook them? c. Eating: alone/together? 3. [finances] Did you decide to spend a certain amount on food? (How much?) a. Organic products too expensive? What do you do? b. Do you feel your budget limits you or contributes to taking the environment into account in your food consumption? c. Parents? (give groceries/vegetables/financial aid?) 4. [eating out] Do you often eat outside your home? a. Resto U (university canteen)? Parents? Friends? Fastfood? b. Do you also look for environmentally friendly options there? Easy/difficult? What do you do? 5. [shared understanding/meaning] Do you often talk about this topic with other people? a. What do you talk about specifically with these people? Good venues, strategies, activism? b. Was it other people who originally motivated you to start? Your parents, your friends? If not, what was your primary motivation? c. How long ago did you start? Do you think you will continue? Can you think of any reasons that would make you stop?

6. [general] a. Age b. Education of parents c. Job/study d. University e. Income, rent

APPENDIX 3: Codes 1. Access a. Convenience b. Finances c. Social d. Transportation e. Housing f. Information 2. Practice a. Know-how/embodied habits i. Frequency ii. Location b. Institutionalized knowledge i. Sustainable food (1) Organic (2) Meat (3) Vegan (4) Local (5) Seasonal (6) Packaging (7) Production circumstances ii. Source (1) Parents (2) Friends (3) Study (4) Other c. Engagements/meaning/motivation 3. Practice bundles a. Cooking b. Eating c. Eating out d. Transporting e. Managing waste f. Saving energy g. Buying second hand h. Activism 4. Strategies 5. Practice trajectory

APPENDIX 4: Overview of interviewees (organized per type)

Name M Age Year Program University Income Rent Food Means of /F budget contacting Chloe F 24 Master 2 Animal AgroParisTech 600 350 275 INRA- email production Thomas M 24 PhD 1 Economics Ecole Normale 1600 425 130 AMAP ENS Supérieure Sarah F 23 Master 2 Business AgroParisTech 700 300 175 INRA- email management Sadia F 25 Master 1 Sociology of ENS/EHESS 900 500 200 INRA – statistics personal (+ master in request historical & political sociology) Justine F 24 PhD 1 Geography AgroParisTech / 1600 480 200 INRA - email INRA Jennifer F 22 Master 2 Nutrition AgroParisTech 700 500 120 INRA- email Arthur M 21 Master 1 Environmental Sciences Po 1000 550 250 AMAP politics and Sciences Po economics Adelaide F 25 Master 1 Environmental Sciences Po 900 450 300 AMAP Politics Sciences Po (+ engineer geoscience) Coline F 19 Bachelor Marketing Université Paris 450 250 120 BDD 2 techniques Sud (XI) Farah F 18 Bachelor Marketing Université Paris 400 0 200 BDD 2 techniques Sud (XI) Tisha F 24 Master 2 Art history Ecole du Louvre 750 412 260 REFEDD Brenda F 23 Master 2 Business EHESS 1000 0 275 REFEDD management (+ master in sociology) Alexandre M 24 Master 2 Political Sorbonne 1000 0 400 REFEDD sociology (+ master in ecology/territori al development) Lea F 22 Master 2 Agroecology AgroParisTech 750 350 130 INRA- email Stephanie F 22 PhD 1 Ecology IEES (MSc: ENS) 1600 650 170 AMAP ENS Christian M 23 Master 2 Ecology ENS 1350 600 350 Snowballing + (AgroParisTech) (Lea) Bruno M 26 Master 2 Ecology Ecole Normale 700 350 ? INRA- email Supérieure Julian M 24 PhD 1 Plant ecology Museum National 1600 475 150 Snowballing de l'Histoire (Christian) Naturelle Agathe F 21 Master 1 Public affairs Sciences Po 900 400 ? REFEDD