Greenwashing

How it works

Greenwashing is marketing that makes a company look more environmentally responsible than it is. The word comes from “whitewashing”, and the mechanism is the same: paint over, don’t repair. The cheap version is vocabulary (“eco”, “natural”, “conscious”, “planet-friendly”): words that sound like a measurement and measure nothing. The slightly dearer version is a claim with a hidden asterisk: “carbon neutral”, achieved by buying offsets, which are credits for trees somewhere that may or may not get planted, and that would take decades to absorb the emissions anyway. The expensive version is the hero product: one recycled sneaker, one green fund, promoted hard, while the rest of the catalogue stays exactly as it was.

Then there is the packaging. Green and beige, kraft paper, a leaf on the label. None of that is a claim in the legal sense, which is the point: it says “we’re the good ones” without saying anything a regulator could check.

Regulators have caught up, slowly. In 2021 the European Commission and national authorities screened green claims on websites across the EU: 42 % were exaggerated, false or deceptive, and in more than half of the cases the company offered no evidence at all. Directive (EU) 2024/825, which applies across the EU from September 2026, bans generic environmental claims (“environmentally friendly”, “climate neutral”) that cannot be proven, bans claims based purely on offsetting, and outlaws sustainability labels not backed by a certification scheme or a public authority. The UK’s Green Claims Code sets similar rules. Advertising will adapt. The adjectives will get more creative.

Example

@GreenLeafWater, 3d · Sponsored New look, same pure taste. Our bottles are now made with 30 % recycled plastic, and every purchase helps us plant trees. Drink conscious.

@bence_reads_labels, 2d So: 70 % new plastic, “helps us plant trees” with no number, and the product is still water driven 900 km in a bottle. That leaf on the label is doing a lot of work.

Notice that nothing in the ad is false. It is the frame that misleads: a small improvement sized to look like a transformation.

Why it works on you

• You want to be a good person cheaply. A green label lets you buy the same thing and feel better. That feeling is a product in itself, and it sells.
• Vague words feel precise. “Natural” and “sustainable” are loaded language: they carry a verdict without a definition, so there is nothing to disagree with.
• The claim arrives with a halo. A leaf, a forest photo, soft colours: the design makes checking feel ungrateful.

What to do

Reading a claim: ask “compared to what, and says who?”. Specific beats generic: “30 % less plastic than our 2022 bottle” can be checked; “eco-friendly” cannot. Look for an independent label (EU Ecolabel, FSC, Fairtrade, organic certification) rather than a badge the brand drew itself. Then look away from the product: what does the company’s annual report say about its total emissions? One green line in an unchanged business is a campaign, not a change. And when the green line comes with a company-funded “study”, see lobby-funded studies.

When you catch yourself: notice when a purchase is being sold to you as a moral act. Buying is not activism. Sometimes the greenest option is the thing you already own.

In a comment section: ask for the number. “What’s the baseline for that 30 %?” is more useful, and harder to wave away, than “greenwashing!”. If the brand cannot answer, readers will notice.

Don’t confuse it with

• Real improvements described honestly, with a baseline, a date and a certification, are not greenwashing even if they are small. The trick is the gap between the claim and the business.
• Debates about green policy are legitimate; this entry is about advertising, not about whether a given regulation is wise.