Brian J. Back

Recently I found myself orchestrating a lone cattle drive of sorts, pushing three large carts of office furniture through a deep line of weekend shoppers at Ikea. Any small-business proprietor who’s survived a similar situation can probably appreciate how exhausting the day had been.

When I finally checked out and pushed through to a new line at the delivery department, I was told to pencil in a form for every single item I wanted delivered (apparently a scan of my receipt would not work), which at that point was everything except a dozen glasses and coffee cups. So on the way out I stopped at a cashier and asked her for a bag to put the cups in.

“A bag costs a nickel,” she said.

I searched my pockets and found no change, so I handed her a dollar bill. “Sorry, I can’t make change because this register is shut down; you’ll have to wait in line over there,” she said, pointing into a sea of people. “It’s for the environment,” she added.

I wanted to tell her what our business does for the environment, but I quickly realized that, after spending hours in Ikea’s sun-starved warehouse- labyrinth, I was on the verge of making a big scene. So I left bagless, juggling cups, and returned to the office questioning the potential disconnect between a company’s well-intentioned environmental initiatives and how those initiatives work in practice.

Often I’m reminded, especially by my walk-the-talk team, about the importance of our own business decisions and the role we can play by being transparent, both internally and externally. We do a lot of different things that we don’t talk about much, from purchasing greener office supplies and constantly pursuing more efficient systems, to choosing the right headquarters. But let’s face it, the magazine industry has some dirty little secrets. (Just think of all of the recent “green”-themed issues of mainstream titles printed on glossy, virgin paper.)