We see the words everywhere—eco, green, sustainable, planet-friendly. They appear on products, ads, websites, even fashion tags and fast-food wrappers. And at first, they feel reassuring. Comforting, even. Like proof that the world is finally listening. That brands are changing. That the planet is a priority.
But then you look closer.
A “green” t-shirt made of “recycled materials” is still shipped halfway across the globe. A fast-food chain sells burgers in biodegradable packaging—but sources its meat from deforested land. A multinational oil company plants a few trees and calls it climate leadership.
Welcome to greenwashing.
As young people, we are constantly navigating a marketplace full of contradictions. We want to make good choices, to live responsibly, to support change. But it’s not always easy to know what’s real—and what’s just branding.
Greenwashing is when companies or institutions make themselves appear more environmentally responsible than they really are. It’s the marketing of ethics without the substance. And it’s becoming a major obstacle in the fight for climate justice.
Because when everything is labeled “green,” the word starts to lose its meaning.
During our conversations and research, many of us shared moments of confusion—or disappointment. Like buying a product marked sustainable only to discover that it was wrapped in plastic. Or supporting a “green” brand, only to learn they paid poverty wages to workers abroad. One participant said, “I felt betrayed. I was trying to do the right thing, but it was just a trick.”
That’s the danger of greenwashing. It doesn’t just mislead—it undermines trust. It makes people cynical. It makes them stop trying.
But giving up isn’t the answer. Learning to see through the buzzwords is.
One of the first things we discussed is how language works. Companies aren’t regulated on terms like “eco” or “natural.” They can use them freely, without proving anything. That’s why it’s important to look past the label and ask real questions:
Who made this? With what? Where did it come from? What happens when I’m done with it?
We talked about tools that help cut through the noise. Certifications can sometimes help—but even those have limits. Some are strict and meaningful; others are little more than stickers. The key is to stay curious, and not take any claim at face value.
More than anything, we agreed that real sustainability doesn’t just show up in packaging. It shows up in values, in actions, in consistency. A truly sustainable business doesn’t just sell eco-products—it rethinks its entire model. It pays its workers fairly. It reduces production, not just switches materials. It takes responsibility, even when it’s messy.
We also explored the power of education—not just in schools, but among ourselves. Talking about greenwashing, calling it out, explaining it to friends and family. One participant shared how they created an Instagram account to break down misleading product claims. “It’s not about shaming,” they said. “It’s about helping people ask better questions.”
And we asked: Why is greenwashing even happening?
The answer is simple. Because it works. Because people care—and companies know that. They know consumers are paying attention. So instead of changing their behavior, they change their language.
But that awareness is also a strength. It means we have leverage. If young people continue to push for transparency, for ethical standards, for real accountability, then greenwashing won’t be enough. Companies will have to back up their words with action—or lose their audience.
That’s the shift we want to see.
We don’t need more green promises. We need change rooted in truth.
And that starts with us—by reading the label and the story behind it. By asking more. By accepting less. By making our voices louder than their marketing.
Because sustainability isn’t a slogan.
It’s a responsibility.