14 February 21
Folks, We — Really — Need Some Progress on Donations
We are looking at really poor fundraising returns. Some of you are going to be offended, but we have to improve on this situation. We need you to help. The time is now to get it done.
With urgency.
Marc Ash
Founder, Reader Supported News
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14 February 21
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Robert Reich | I've Seen McConnell Pull a Lot of Shameless Tricks, but This Is One of the Worst
Robert Reich, Robert Reich's Facebook Page
Reich writes: "McConnell wrongly claims that it is unconstitutional to impeach a president after he's left office."
itch McConnell has announced that he will vote to acquit Donald Trump. McConnell wrongly claims that it is unconstitutional to impeach a president after he's left office, despite overwhelming evidence that the Framers of the constitution intended impeachment to be used against former officials. Remember, Mitch McConnell is the same person who delayed Trump's impeachment trial while he was still in office.
I've seen McConnell pull a lot of shameless tricks over the years, but this is one of the worst of all. If Trump goes unpunished, it will open the door for more attacks against our democracy in the future. Shame on McConnell and Trump remaining enablers.
House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy speaks during a news conference on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. (photo: Susan Walsh/AP)
ALSO SEE: What History Will Say About Trump's Acquittal
Trump Left Them to Die. 43 Senate Republicans Still Licked His Boots.
Dana Milbank, The Washington Post
Milbank writes: "In the end, the darkest truth of Donald Trump's crime came to light."
As his marauders sacked the Capitol on Jan. 6 in their bloody attempt to overturn the election, House Republican leader Kevin McCarthy called the then-president and pleaded for Trump to call off the attack.
Trump refused, essentially telling McCarthy he got what he deserved. Trump was, in effect, content to let members of Congress die.
That damning account, in a statement Friday night from Rep. Jaime Herrera Beutler (Wash.), a Republican who defended Trump during his first impeachment, momentarily threw the Senate’s impeachment trial into chaos on its final day.
Trump’s lawyers, in their slashing, largely fictitious defense, claimed that Trump was “horrified” by the violence, hadn’t known that Vice President Mike Pence was in danger and took “immediate steps” to counter the rioting.
But Herrera Beutler revealed such claims to be a lie. When McCarthy “finally reached the president on January 6 and asked him to publicly and forcefully call off the riot, the president initially repeated the falsehood that it was antifa that had breached the Capitol,” she wrote. McCarthy, she continued, “refuted that and told the president that these were Trump supporters. That’s when, according to McCarthy, the president said: ‘Well, Kevin, I guess these people are more upset about the election than you are.’ ”
Her account wasn’t seriously or substantively refuted. On Saturday afternoon, senators agreed that Herrera Beutler’s statement would be entered into the trial record as evidence.
Even knowing this, most Republican senators, as long expected, voted to acquit Trump, a craven surrender to the political imperative not to cross the demagogue. But the impeachment trial was not in vain, for it revealed the ugly truth: Trump knew lawmakers’ lives were in danger from his violent supporters, and instead of helping the people’s representatives escape harm, Trump scoffed.
Republicans scrambled to limit the damage of Herrera Beutler’s revelation. Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell, who had feigned being open to conviction, abandoned the pretense and, minutes before the Senate convened Saturday, emailed his Republican colleagues that he would vote to acquit.
On the Senate floor, Trump counsel Michael van der Veen, a personal-injury lawyer by day, tried in every way to demonstrate his indignation at the late revelation. He shouted. He growled. He gesticulated madly. He pounded the lectern. He stomped. He spat out words: “Antics.” “Rumor.” “Report.” “Innuendo.” “False narrative!” He actually declared that “it doesn’t matter what happened after the insurgence into the Capitol building.” So what if Trump scoffed at McCarthy’s desperate entreaty to save lawmakers’ lives?
Sputtering like the Looney Tunes character Sylvester the Cat, van der Veen declared: “Nancy Pelosi’s deposition needs to be taken. Vice President Harris’s deposition absolutely needs to be taken. And not by Zoom. None of these depositions should be done by Zoom. We didn’t do this hearing by Zoom! These depositions should be done — in person, in my office, in Philly-delphia!”
Sufferin’ succotash!
Laughter broke out in the chamber.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” he responded. “It is civil process. … I’ll slap subpoenas on a good number of people.” He seemed to think he was arguing a slip-and-fall case in the Pennsylvania Court of Common Pleas.
Republicans joined the theatrics.
On the Senate floor, Sen. Ron Johnson (Wis.), an always-Trumper, was seen pointing at Sen. Mitt Romney (Utah) and saying “blame you” in a raised voice. Romney was one of five Republicans who joined all 50 Democrats in voting to allow witness testimony.
Sen. Mike Lee (Utah), another Trump ally, interrupted a presentation to complain that the House impeachment managers “said something that’s not true” — never mind that the Senate had sat in silence during hours of falsehoods from Trump’s team.
After Herrera Beutler’s revelations sparked a vote for witnesses, Senate leaders brokered a compromise to keep the impeachment trial from spiraling into endless discovery. Herrera Beutler’s statement would be admitted as evidence, but this would “not constitute a concession by either party as for the truth of the matters asserted by the other party.”
Rep. Jamie Raskin (D-Md.), the lead impeachment manager, claimed that “this uncontradicted statement" provided “further decisive evidence of [Trump’s] intent to incite the insurrection.”
Van der Veen, in response, howled about due process and fairness being “violently breached” — interesting words, given what his client did.
When the yeas and nays were counted, seven Senate Republicans joined Herrera Beutler in her courageous stand, voting along with all 50 Democrats to convict Trump. The other 43 Republicans, some of whom, like McConnell, feebly denounced Trump’s conduct even as they acquitted him, now have the cowardly distinction of licking the boots of the man who left them to die.
Joe Manchin. (photo: Getty Images)
Kyrsten Sinema and Joe Manchin Oppose $15 Minimum Wage. Will the Democrats Cave?
Joseph Zeballos-Roig, Business Insider
Zeballos-Roig writes: "A second Democratic senator came out in opposition to including a $15 minimum wage in President Joe Biden's relief package, possibly dealing a major blow to the proposed wage hike."
"What's important is whether or not it's directly related to short-term Covid relief. And if it's not, then I am not going to support it in this legislation," Sen. Kyrsten Sinema of Arizona told Politico in an interview published Friday. "The minimum wage provision is not appropriate for the reconciliation process."
She went on: "It is not a budget item. And it shouldn't be in there."
Sinema, a moderate, isn't alone among Democrats in her resistance to the $15 wage bump. Sen. Joe Manchin told reporters last week that he favored a smaller increase to $11, saying "it's responsible and reasonable."
The $15 minimum wage increase is only one component of Biden's $1.9 trillion federal rescue package. It also includes $1,400 direct payments, $400 federal unemployment benefits, assistance to state and local governments, and $160 billion in vaccine distribution and virus testing funds among other measures.
But the wage provision has been a lightning rod of criticism among Republicans and some Democrats. Republicans argue raising wages will cost jobs during an economic downturn. But the provision is championed by Sen. Bernie Sanders as a critical measure to boost wages for underpaid hourly workers.
The Vermont senator told Insider this week that it would "be in reconciliation if I have anything to say about it - the only way we're gonna get it passed." Under the plan, the wage would be raised gradually from $7.25 an hour to $15 over five years.
But the opposition of two Democratic senators may end up nixing it for now. Democrats are using a legislative maneuver with strict rules called reconciliation to approve the rescue package with a simple majority of 51 votes in the Senate. Vice President Kamala Harris is the tie-breaker in the evenly divided chamber.
That means every Democratic senator must support the rescue plan or else the legislative push collapses. It's also unclear whether the wage increase will end up clearing the stringent budgetary guidelines interpreted by the Senate parliamentarian.
Even if it doesn't, overruling the parliamentarian to include the measure in the legislation - a possible option - risks further fracturing Senate Democrats at a moment they are trying to act swiftly and approve the Biden package by early March.
"We're feeling really good," Sanders told Capitol Hill reporters on Friday. "We think we got a good shot, we're working hard to get the minimum wage through the parliamentarian's office."
Sanders did not answer questions from Insider when asked if Democrats should override the Senate parliamentarian. Manchin told Insider "no comment" when asked about including the wage bump in the relief package.
Biden recently said he didn't think the wage increase would survive the reconciliation process. Instead, the president said he was ready for a separate legislative push on a $15 minimum wage.
"We're kind of smack in the middle of the sausage-making of legislating," White House Press Secretary Jen Psaki told reporters on Friday. "We will see where it ends up on the other side but the president remains committed to raising the minimum wage."
Sanders appeared to dismiss the idea earlier this week, telling Insider: "There are no Republican votes for a $15 minimum wage."
A Medicare for All rally in Los Angeles in February 2019. (photo: Molly Adams/flickr)
The Path to Winning a Floor Vote for Medicare for All in Congress
Stephanie Nakajima, The Intercept
Nakajima writes: "At the heart of the argument to #ForceTheVote is the belief that a ceremonial vote on Medicare for All, even one that would not pass, would be useful in pressuring members of Congress who vote 'no' on one of the most broadly supported policies in the nation."
The #ForceTheVote debate is about how to hold members of Congress accountable — not whether to do so.
hile Medicare for All organizers mobilize for the imminent introduction of Medicare for All bills in the House and Senate, pushing to win a record number of co-sponsors, #ForceTheVote, a proposed tactic to force a floor vote in Congress on the health care plan, still dominates the Medicare for All organizing discussion online.
#ForceTheVote originated last December when a group of online activists suggested that progressive members of Congress withhold their votes for Nancy Pelosi’s reelection as speaker of the House until she agreed to put the Medicare for All bill on the floor for a vote. Pelosi was reelected to the position in January, but the debate didn’t stop there.
As an organizer, I think it’s important to look for and meet on common ground with progressive allies and not descend into an online debate club. But because #ForceTheVote, which was conceived primarily on Twitter and does not have the support of a single organization or union fighting for Medicare for All, has captured so much attention on the left, unpacking some of its problems is a great way to illustrate what kind of organizing will get us closer to passing Medicare for All — and, hopefully, will bring us closer to a shared theory of change.
At the heart of the argument to #ForceTheVote is the belief that a ceremonial vote on Medicare for All, even one that would not pass, would be useful in pressuring members of Congress who vote “no” on one of the most broadly supported policies in the nation. Advocates of #ForceTheVote maintain that this will provide considerable pressure over and above the House co-sponsor list, a public document that already tells you who is and isn’t on the bill.
Fundamentally, we disagree not on whether to hold electeds accountable, but how. The co-sponsor list actually holds plenty of power; it’s just not being used. I bring two case studies.
The first is a pressure tactic that was not ultimately effective on its own. Rep. Stephen Lynch, D-Mass., represents a solidly Democratic district; he was reelected with over 80 percent of the vote in 2020. Healthcare-NOW, the organization I work for, and the Boston chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America bird-dogged him on Medicare for All at a 2018 town hall and caught a great moment on video. When pressed on why he won’t support the bill, he said, “Your current insurance will go away” — to wild applause. The clip was retweeted by People for Bernie and other popular accounts and got almost 15,000 views on Twitter, broadcasting Lynch’s defiance on Medicare for All and his right-wing talking points.
Did Lynch support the bill after being “exposed”? Absolutely not. And if forced, he will vote against it with few repercussions. This is despite the fact that his constituents, and Democrats at large, are overwhelmingly Medicare for All supporters.
Here’s an open secret about our political process that explains how this can be: Legislators don’t care if their constituents “support” X or Y policy. They start to care if they know that you have the capacity to hold them accountable and that you intend to carry out a public pressure campaign in response. Of course, the power of constituents also competes with the pressure House members receive from the health care industry.
Lynch’s constituents might support Medicare for All, but until enough of those constituents have been mobilized into a local pressure campaign, he will happily carry on taking corporate donations from the industry (so far, $427,000 just from insurers over his career) and brazenly disparaging Medicare for All.
A floor vote and the co-sponsor list are both powerful in the same way: latently. To actually wield this power requires persistent and strategic local activism. It’s this undervaluation and dismissal of local accountability that leads to the analysis behind #ForceTheVote: the notion that we just need to pull harder on the same lever of power that we already have through the national co-sponsor list. The adoption of this faulty analysis — without significant consultation of organizing groups already working on this issue — has not only led to the popularization of an ineffective tactic, but also has deepened existing misconceptions about our path to victory.
Here’s an example of that co-sponsor list in action: For almost all of the years that Joe Kennedy represented Massachusetts’ 4th Congressional District, he was not a co-sponsor of the Medicare for All bill. But when Healthcare-NOW formed a local in-district coalition that brought this to the public — a very specific public, his constituents — he finally started to feel the heat. Late in the campaign, activists spent an entire month canvassing outside supermarkets in his district, informing them that Kennedy was not a co-sponsor of the bill and asking them to call his office. When we finally got the in-person meeting that led to his co-sponsorship, he shared his distress over these calls, the vast majority of which came from his district. The power of his absence on that co-sponsorship list laid dormant until activists picked it up and used it against him.
#ForceTheVote lit a fuse on Twitter for two reasons. First, people are frustrated with corporate Democrats and maybe even more so with our stalled progress at fighting them; after a blitz of new co-sponsors in 2017 and 2018, the collective movement for Medicare for All has made much less progress over the last couple of years.
The unfortunate truth is that the next and last 114 votes we need to hit a majority in the House are going to be significantly harder to gain than the ones we already have, because the lawmakers are in many cases more powerful and closer to leadership and represent districts that don’t have established progressive infrastructure. The next and hardest phase to win Medicare for All will require serious in-district base- and coalition-building and the commitment of organizations to carry through campaigns that may run for months. And most supporters understand that it’s going to take more than “call and email your legislator” action; they just don’t know quite what that action will be.
Which brings me to the second reason #ForceTheVote took off: People are hungry to get involved in Medicare for All organizing. Tagging progressive members of Congress on Twitter and demanding that they pressure Pelosi was an easy action in which everyone could participate. It had the feeling of a mass movement.
But an actual mass movement, counterintuitively, doesn’t look like everyone doing the same thing; rather, it means building power in your neighborhood, city, or state. If you’re building power effectively, it will look very different in Alabama’s 7th Congressional District than in California’s 12th Congressional District. You make a huge difference to the national movement by doing the kind of local-organizing and coalition-building work that creates deep and enduring accountability structures we can draw upon no matter who is in office.
Unfortunately, instead of funneling people into the organizations that are base-building locally, #ForceTheVote became a purity test that distracted from the less-glamorous work of organizing and perhaps even undermined it. Rather than consolidate our efforts, #ForceTheVote spawned a new organization that would do more “radical” Medicare for All work. Frustration that should have been directed at local Democratic parties and all the complicit institutions that uphold our for-profit health care system was instead turned on progressive organizers who didn’t endorse this overnight sensation of a tactic.
The House speaker vote has passed. I understand the desire to skip to Congress-wide endgame tactics; unfortunately, when you’re up against the wealthiest opposition any movement has ever faced, there are no shortcuts. But make no mistake: When we’re close to victory, we’re absolutely going to force the vote.
Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam (D) made marijuana decriminalization a top priority for 2020. (photo: Zach Gibson/Getty Images)
Why It's So Significant That Virginia Looks Set to Abolish the Death Penalty
Madeleine Carlisle, TIME
Carlisle writes: "Virginia's use of the death penalty dates back over 400 years - to 1608, when Jamestown settlers carried out the first recorded execution in the then-European colonies."
In the centuries since, amid periods of slavery, Reconstruction and Jim Crow segregation, Virginia has executed hundreds of people; since 1976, Virginia has executed 113 people, a higher percentage of death row inmates than any other U.S. state, and the highest number of state executions second only to Texas.
But on Feb. 3 and 5 respectively, Virginia’s Democratic Senate and House of Delegates voted to abolish the state’s death penalty, and Democratic Gov. Ralph Northam has said he plans to sign the bill into law. This would make Virginia the first Southern state to abolish the death penalty.
At the state level, the apparent abolition of Virginia’s death penalty signifies the state’s shifting politics; at the national level, it illustrates how unpopular capital punishment is becoming with the American public—despite the Trump administration’s spree of executions last year. And advocates argue Virginia could be a bellwether of more changes to come.
Virginia’s 20 year shift
The abolition of the death penalty is the latest in a series of progressive actions recently undertaken by the state legislature. In 2019, Virginia’s midterm elections put Democratic lawmakers in the majority for the first time in over two decades, a flip driven in part by the state’s changing demographics and a rebuke of then-President Donald Trump. The death penalty issue split along party lines in the state Senate, although three Republicans voted in favor of the House’s abolition bill on Feb. 5, which passed 57-41.
Democratic Del. Michael Mullin, who sponsored the House bill, tells TIME that he does not think abolition would have been possible without the public support of Gov. Northam. For years opposition to the death penalty in the Virginia could hinder a politician’s standing; when Democrat Sen. Tim Kaine was Governor between 2006 and 2010, he presided over 11 executions, despite saying he personally opposed the practice. Northam, on the other hand, called for an end to capital punishment in his State of the Commonwealth address in January.
“There have been people who have put abolition forward for the better part of four decades,” Mullin says. “But we’ve never had a Governor who went out forcefully and with a full throated approach to abolish the death penalty.”
While 22 U.S. states have already banned the death penalty, they’re largely places “that never sentenced very many people to death to begin with,” says Brandon Garrett, a professor of law at Duke University School of Law and the author of End of its Rope: How Killing the Death Penalty Can Revive Criminal Justice.
Virginia, on the other hand, was a prolific executioner for decades. This was in part because it had some of the strictest procedural rules in the country, including a rule that a defendant’s legal claims could be denied judicial review if their lawyer missed a filing deadline. This meant that poorer defendants who couldn’t afford more experienced attorneys were more likely to be executed without “any meaningful review of their cases,” argues Robert Dunham, the executive director of the nonprofit Death Penalty Information Center. In other cases, judges also did not clarify that recipients of a life sentence could be deemed ineligible for parole, Dunham continues, arguing that some juries might have imposed death sentences “because they thought it would be too dangerous to let [the defendant] return to the streets.”
But in 1999 the Virginia Supreme Court ruled in Yarbrough v. Commonwealth that judges had to inform their juries that they could impose a sentence of life without parole. Around the same time, the state legislature began establishing regional capital defender offices, which provided defense specifically for people facing capital charges (and were well versed in the deadlines and requirements they had to meet). The impact was striking: “All of a sudden… the prosecution is losing about half the time when they seek the death penalty, and jurors aren’t imposing life sentences,” says Garrett.
Virginia now hasn’t imposed a death sentence since 2011 and hasn’t executed someone since 2017. There are just two men on Virginia’s death row; both of them are Black. A Feb. 2 poll by Christopher Newport University also found that 56% of Virginians now support repealing the death penalty.
Advocates point to several reasons for the state’s changed stance. Capital trials—and the numerous appeals that are usually filed afterwards—are costly, and a growing number of conservatives have come to oppose the practice on fiscal grounds. “We’ve done an awful lot of hard work over the [years] to build support among a very broad coalition,” says Michael Stone, executive director of advocacy group Virginians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. “We have built support among libertarians, among Republicans, among prosecutors, within the faith community and with murder victims’ family members.”
Rev. LaKeisha Cook, a justice reform organizer at the Virginia Interfaith Center for Public Policy, says that 2020’s mass Black Lives Matter protests, as well as the federal government’s spree of 13 executions in the last seven month of President Trump’s term, proved “the perfect storm” for creating momentum to end capital punishment in Virginia. “I believe that racial justice issues and capital punishment was pushed to the forefront of people’s minds and conversations,” she explains.
“The Virginia legislature is finally catching up with public opinion here in the commonwealth,” Mullin adds. “I think that a large majority of Virginians believe that the death penalty is inherently racist, unfair and can’t be executed in a proper fashion.”
‘The slow death of the American death penalty’
Like in much of the rest of the U.S., Virginia’s death penalty has historically been used to enforce a system of white supremacy. There is a direct “connection between our current modern day capital punishment, and our nation’s history with lynching, slavery and Jim Crow,” says Cook.
Per the Death Penalty Information Center, between 1900 and 1977, Virginia executed 73 Black defendants for convictions of rape, attempted rape or armed robbery that did not result in death. No white Virginians were executed for those crimes.
In one infamous example, Virginia executed seven Black men in 1951 after they were convicted of raping a white woman by an all-white jury—the largest recorded mass execution in the state’s history. “At a time when African Americans were beginning to assert their civil rights vigorously, the executions provided a stark reminder of the harsh treatment reserved for Blacks who violated southern racial codes,” wrote historian Eric W. Rise in his 1992 article “Race, Rape, and Radicalism: The Case of the Martinsville Seven, 1949-1951,” in the Journal of Southern History.
Studies show race still plays a role in modern day capital cases. A 2015 University of North Carolina and Georgetown Law Center study of U.S. executions between 1976 and 2013 found that the race of a crime’s victim is the “single most reliable predictor of whether a defendant in the USA will be executed.” Defendants were rarely executed if their victim was a Black, the study found, while several other studies found that defendants who killed white Americans were more likely to receive a death sentence.
The growing awareness of the role race plays in the criminal justice system has helped decrease support for capital punishment in the American public, argues Henderson Hill, a senior staff attorney at the American Civil Liberties Union’s (ACLU) Capital Punishment Project. In the mid-1990s, Gallup found that 80% of Americans were in favor of the death penalty for a person convicted of murder. In Gallup’s 2020 poll of the same question, 55% of Americans supported it.
“If you go back to the late 1980s or early 1990s, the conversation about capital punishment was driven by a kind of tough on crime rhetoric, combined with a kind of high moralism,” says Austin Sarat, a professor of law at Amherst College. But over the decades that rhetoric shifted. People are also now more aware of the at least 174 death row exonerations that have occurred since the 1970s, including the exoneration of Virginian Earl Washington, who was released in 2000 after spending 17 years in prison.
The public perception of capital punishment used to be as a consequence for “crime waves in cities,” says Sarat. Today, he argues that people are more likely to think of “someone being released from death who was falsely convicted.”
And if abolition can gain steam in a Southern state like Virginia, advocates argue it can gain traction elsewhere. Coalitions in other Southern states like North Carolina have been organizing around the issue for years and feel buoyed by Virginia’s momentum. As Garrett puts it: “for a heartland death penalty state to end up in [this] place…… I think that really in a nutshell encapsulates the slow death of the of the American death penalty.”
Sunday Song: Simon & Garfunkel | America
Simon & Garfunkel, YouTube
Excerpt: "I'm empty and aching and I don't know why. Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike. They've all come to look for America."
"Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together
I've got some real estate here in my bag"
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And walked off to look for America
"Kathy", I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
I've gone to look for America
Laughing on the bus
Playing games with the faces
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy
I said "Be careful, his bowtie is really a camera”
"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat"
"We smoked the last one an hour ago"
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine
And the moon rose over an open field
"Kathy, I'm lost", I said, though I knew she was sleeping
I'm empty and aching and I don't know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They've all come to look for America
All come to look for America
All come to look for America
An Ikea store. (photo: Francis Dean/Corbis/Getty Images)
Ikea's Ambitious Plan to Make Its Cheap Furniture Last Forever
Alexandra Kirkman, Grist
Kirkman writes: "Ikea's overarching goal is to become 'climate positive' by 2030 - reducing more greenhouse gas emissions, or GHGs, than its entire value chain emits."
he Ikea store in Queens, New York, which opened on January 14, marked a decided departure for the iconic home furnishings brand. Located in the Rego Park Shopping Center, the 11,500-square-foot open layout — a new, smaller format for Ikea — is divided into core areas of the home, offering small-space solutions tailored to city living. Rooms are thoughtfully merchandised with easily portable accessories like lamps and throw pillows that customers can take with them on the bus or subway, both of which are a block away — a key factor in choosing the store’s location, given that more than half of city residents use public transportation.
Digital stations allow shoppers to self-pay and arrange furniture delivery for bigger pieces for a flat fee of $49. The company is working to make all last-mile deliveries in New York City by electric vehicle, according to Jennifer Keesson, country sustainability manager for Ikea U.S. — a test run on the way to making the last mile of its more than 2 million annual home deliveries nationwide zero emissions by 2025.
The Swedish powerhouse set out 80 years ago “to create a better everyday life for the many people” — as its motto goes — by putting sleek, stylish home furnishings within the budgets of the masses, and became a $35.4 billion (2020 revenues) market force in the process. And just as the brand is widely credited with democratizing design, it’s now moving to make sustainable living the norm rather than the exception, with a sprawling strategy that’s wildly ambitious in scope.
Ikea’s overarching goal is to become “climate positive” by 2030 — reducing more greenhouse gas emissions, or GHGs, than its entire value chain emits. It plans to do this while still growing its business by designing new products, moving into new markets, and building dozens, perhaps hundreds, of new stores in that time. The company is charging ahead with plans to open 50 more stores (of various sizes and formats) in 2021 alone.
Expanding its retail footprint on a warming planet may seem to fly directly in the face of Ikea’s plan to reduce its colossal climate footprint. In the last year, moves to decrease energy use across the business, from manufacturing to what it serves in its restaurants, have reduced its climate footprint per product sold by 7 percent, the company estimates. Meeting its 2030 target while selling ever more will mean cutting the average climate footprint per product by 70 percent.
Given that Ikea emitted the equivalent of 24.9 million tons of carbon dioxide in 2019 — accounting for 0.1 percent of the world’s GHG emissions that year — it’s a Herculean undertaking that encompasses virtually every element of its business, from the materials it sources through product manufacturing and transport. Emissions reductions will also come from efforts to pull carbon out of the atmosphere (without the use of carbon offsets) and influence supplier and customer behavior.
Making products last longer, and giving old products second lives, is a central pillar of its climate ambitions: Ikea aims to become a “100 percent circular business” by 2030. That means creating home goods that not only meet Ikea’s definition of “democratic design” — affordable, high-quality, sustainable, stylish, and functional — but also can be reused, refurbished, recycled, or remanufactured into new items.
Materials contribute the most to Ikea’s overall climate footprint, followed by the use of products in customer homes. Squeezing carbon savings out of those budgets poses the greatest hurdles toward meeting its ambitious targets, which were set to align with the Paris climate accord goal of keeping global warming below 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels.
“An increasing number of companies have said they’ll be climate positive by 2040 or 2050, but relatively few have said 2030,” said Andrew Winston, a corporate sustainability strategist and author of “The Big Pivot.” “Ikea’s challenge is also much more complicated because they manufacture tons of different products — unlike a company like Google, which has also set incredibly aggressive goals.”
The sprawling infrastructure and commercial leverage that enables the company to manufacture and sell millions of products is exactly what Ikea is banking on to realize its climate goals.
“Obviously the consumption model of the 1900s that we were part of will not work in the future, because we’re consuming more than the planet can provide,” said Ingka Group CEO Jesper Brodin on a Harvard Business Review podcast last December. Ingka Group is the largest of 12 strategic partners in Ikea’s franchise system, operating 380 Ikea stores around the world.
“I love mass production,” said Brodin, “because if you put it in the right aspect, you can scale up change so much better and faster. If you can scale something that’s climate-positive, that’s probably the best and fastest way of doing it — and bring the cost down so sustainability doesn’t become something that’s only for those who can afford it.”
Seeing the forest for the trees
Arguably few companies, particularly in the retail industry, have Ikea’s vision and knack for innovation. Founded in 1943 by the late Ingvar Kamprad — the name is an acronym of his initials, his family farm (Elmtaryd), and his birthplace (Agunnaryd) — it quickly became known for low prices. Chagrined competitors tried to pressure suppliers to boycott the brand, driving Kamprad to start designing products in-house and thinking early about moving beyond his home market.
Ikea shifted to flat-pack, self-assembly products in 1953 to minimize shipping costs and damage to mail-order deliveries. In 1970, the first self-service area was opened at Ikea’s flagship store near Stockholm, which allowed customers to walk out with flat-pack furniture in hand to assemble at home. The debut of Ikea’s first store outside of Scandinavia, in Switzerland, in 1973 set the stage for international expansion: Ikea is now the world’s largest home furnishings business, with nearly 530 stores (including test formats and planning studios) in more than 50 countries.
The seeds of Ikea’s shift to sustainability were planted (literally) in 1998, with the launch of the “Sow a Seed” Foundation, which sought to rehabilitate large swaths of rainforest lost to logging and forest fires in Malaysian Borneo. Over the next two decades, Ikea funded the replanting of 3 million trees across 31,000 now-protected acres of rainforest.
Sustainable forestry has long been a key focus of the brand, for good reason. Ikea uses wood in 60 percent of its products. Last year, it used just under 671 million cubic feet of wood (enough to fill 18 Empire State Buildings) in home furnishings and packaging, most of it from Poland, Russia, Belarus, Sweden, and Germany. About 12 percent of it was recycled and nearly all the rest was certified by the Forest Stewardship Council, a nonprofit group that promotes responsible forestry (Ikea is a founding member), meaning its harvesting did not contribute to deforestation.
Ikea still runs into criticism from time to time. Last year, the company was accused of illegally sourcing wood from Ukraine; a third-party independent investigation found no evidence of such timber in its supply chain, attributing the allegations to ambiguity surrounding the law concerning certain forest management practices. FSC is now working to resolve the issue.
Wood as a resource is under threat from deforestation, wildfires, pests, and other climate change impacts. The brand’s commitment to sustainable forest management is intended to ensure that its most critical raw material remains in sufficient supply. It also aims to enhance biodiversity, support those whose livelihoods are forest-dependent and protect vital carbon-sequestering trees. A big chunk of the company’s emissions reductions rely on keeping carbon locked up in the plants and soils of healthy forests.
To that end, Ikea invests heavily in forestland, where the company can reap carefully managed timber. Earlier this month, Ingka Group announced its acquisition of nearly 11,000 forested acres in southeast Georgia from The Conservation Fund, assuming its legally binding obligations to protect the land from fragmentation, restore trees, and protect wildlife. The company now owns 136,000 acres of forest across five states, and some 613,000 acres combined in the U.S. and Europe.
Material change
“Seventy percent of our footprint comes from materials,” said Pia Heidenmark Cook, Ingka Group’s chief sustainability officer. “So the products we put on the market, the materials we choose and where we source them from are critical.”
Ikea is taking a close look at its entire supply chain, said Cook, with the goal of using only recycled or renewable materials (like sustainably sourced wood and cotton) in its over 9,500 products by 2030. Today 10 percent of products contain recycled material, such as plastic and polyester, and 60 percent contain renewable materials.
The company has so far mapped out how to achieve half its materials footprint reduction goals for 2030 and has to figure out how to get the rest of the way there.
In the December podcast, Brodin called raw materials the most challenging part of the sustainability equation, noting that materials R&D has been one of the brand’s top investment priorities for nearly a decade.
“In terms of material innovation, the majority of investment is connected to our sustainability agenda — to find new materials that have a smaller climate or water footprint than what we use today,” said Cook.
Laminated veneer lumber, or LVL, is one material showing promise. A relatively new engineered product, it comprises multiple thin layers of wood glued together and cuts down on wood consumption by up to 40 percent. Its strength is comparable to metal in some applications, making it a potentially viable substitute for steel and aluminum, which have a high climate footprint due to their energy-intensive production process.
Another project explores using rice straw — a harvesting residue that’s typically burned and contributes to air pollution in places like northern India — as a new renewable material source.
Ikea has also partnered with clothing retailer H&M and forest products manufacturer Stora Enso to invest in Tree To Textile, a company that transforms wood cellulose into a sustainable textile fiber that could potentially serve as an alternative to cotton, Ikea’s second-most-used raw material behind wood. Last year, the brand used nearly 142,000 tons of the water-intensive crop — 0.5 percent of cotton production worldwide.
So far, alternative materials are still in testing phases or limited use. Ikea’s rice-straw product prototypes debuted as the FÖRÄNDRING (“change” in Swedish) collection of rugs, bowls, and baskets at stores in India last year, with limited volumes in a few European markets.
Should the company determine these new materials are viable, it will take years to update designs, adapt supply chains, and bring production to scale. But the advantage of Ikea’s size and clout means that if the company does identify any breakthrough renewable materials, it could push suppliers to get on board.
“Ikea is fairly unique in its ability to tell a potential supplier, ‘If you can’t meet our terms, we’ll find someone else who will,’” said Tom Eggert, a senior lecturer on business sustainability at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. “Whether it’s a wood alternative or plant-based plastics or something else entirely, they have the buying power to create a market where one may not yet exist.”
While cheap sofas and tables are the company’s bread and butter, the brand is one of the world’s largest food sellers: 680 million customers visited its food outlets in 2019. It sells a billion of its signature Swedish meatballs a year.
But meat is an ecological nightmare — livestock production accounts for more than 14 percent of total global greenhouse emissions and is a leading cause of deforestation. So Ikea is retooling its menu. The company has sold over 5 million veggie hot dogs since unveiling them in 2018. Last August, it introduced the HUVUDROLL plant ball, an alternative to its iconic meatball. With ingredients like pea protein and potatoes, it mimics meat’s taste and texture (unlike the brand’s veggie balls, which debuted in 2015), with a climate footprint that’s only 4 percent of the beef-and-pork original.
The company aims to make 50 percent of its restaurant entrees plant-based by 2025, and 80 percent of them non-red meat (of animals raised for food, cows and pigs are the biggest GHG contributors). The brand’s packaged food will also be 80 percent plant-based within five years.
Ikea’s other not-so-small side hustle is helping eliminate fossil fuels from its retail operations and production: The company is striving for 100 percent renewable energy across its entire value chain by 2030 — including helping secure 100 percent renewable electricity for its nearly 1,600 suppliers. Ikea has been investing in solutions like solar and wind farms around the world since 2009. Its clean energy portfolio now includes 547 wind turbines and two solar farms in 14 countries, and more than 920,000 solar panels on the roofs of Ikea stores and warehouses.
Last year, for the first time, Ingka Group generated more renewable energy — by a third — than it consumed globally in retail and distribution operations.
“Ikea is very much ahead of the curve in retail,” said Winston. “They were one of the biggest renewable energy purchasers before the big tech companies started their buying sprees.”
Widening the circle
In order to realize its vision of becoming 100 percent circular by 2030 — eliminating waste by keeping materials and finished products in use — Ikea must not only make products out of recycled and recyclable materials, but also convince its hundreds of millions of customers to recycle or reuse them.
“A truly circular economy approach is going to have to deal with end of life of products in a totally revolutionary way compared with their current business model,” said ecological economist Tim Jackson, author of the upcoming book “Post Growth: Life After Capitalism.”
The company is exploring how to entice customers to do their part.
During its #BuyBackFriday campaign late last year — conceived as an alternative to traditional Black Friday marketing blitzes — Ikea stores in 27 countries offered to buy back and resell thousands of used home furnishings. Customers received vouchers worth between 30 percent and 50 percent of their item’s original price, depending on its condition. (Anything that couldn’t be resold was recycled or donated to COVID-19 community outreach projects.) Down the road, as the company develops its methods, a bought-back chair could be stripped to its frame, polished, painted, and reshaped into a new chair.
Ikea is turning their “as-is” sections — where last year, 30.5 million discontinued and seasonal items, floor samples and customer returns were sold at discounted prices — into “circular hubs.” Customers can bargain hunt for second hand furnishings while picking up tips on fixing, cleaning or hacking their Ikea products. There are plans to launch hubs in half of Ikea’s stores by the end of the year.
Ikea’s first entirely secondhand store, a six-month test project, debuted in Eskilstuna, Sweden, last November.
“The perception of Ikea as a mass producer of stuff that doesn’t last very long has probably been its biggest Achilles’ heel,” Winston said. “This relatively new effort to change the lifecycle of their products by refurbishing, reselling, or entirely recycling them is probably one of the most important things that they’re doing.”
Jackson put a fine point on it: “#BuyBackFriday was a symbolic gesture. It needs to be an everyday reality.”
Cook says Ikea’s challenge “is to make sustainable living mainstream.” The company has had some past success. Back in 2015, when the most popular alternatives to inefficient incandescent light bulbs were halogens and compact fluorescent lamps, Ikea switched all its lighting products to light-emitting diodes (LEDs), believing that it could build an economy of scale and make LEDs a commercial success. The bulbs sold for about $7 at the time; they now cost less than $1 each and Ikea sold 56 million of them in 2019.
“In general, we are always trying to support the education of our customers [on] how to live a more sustainable and a healthier life at home,” Keesson said.
It’s reasonable to question how any company with a business model based on selling more and more stuff can expand in a truly sustainable way. Some argue that with a burgeoning global middle class on the rise and eager to spend their disposable income, we need companies that will make the effort to stay within the limits of what the planet can provide.
