Aussies Seek Sustainable Shopping: The Rise and Impact of B Corp Certification in Australia

Shopping never used to be this hard. Once a matter of whether there was enough cash in your wallet or room on your credit card, now consumers are becoming increasingly concerned about the cost of buying something new not just for themselves, but the planet as well. Nearly 60 percent of Australians value sustainability more than they did two years ago, according to a recent survey by market analysts NIQ.

Yet just 37 percent say they could shop sustainably with ease versus
a global average of 50 percent. Bombarded with slogans and social media touting a brand’s “eco- friendly” or sustainable credentials, consumers struggle to cut through the greenwash.

Environmental claims are a powerful marketing tool and in Australia it is illegal for business to make false ones. But for customers or investors looking for certainty, the market has provided it through a growing movement called B Corp.

Companies that meet high sustainability standards can attain B Corp Certification — an internationally-recognised tick of approval. It was introduced by B Lab, a United States non-profit organisation founded in 2006 by three friends wanting to make business a force for good.

Companies have to prove to B Lab they’re making a positive impact on the “quadruple” bottom line: people, planet, profit, purpose.

‘B’ stands for ‘benefit for all’ and the fee-based application process is rigorous.

Unlike Environment, Social and Governance (ESG) reporting frameworks, B Corp measures a company’s entire footprint, from supply chain practices and input materials to employee benefits and governance structures.

Businesses submit detailed evidence to B Lab on these standards and must be scored 80 or above on their B Impact Assessment. Once verified, a company’s score appears on the global B Corp Directory.

They can also use the distinctive B Corp logo — an encircled black B — in marketing.

While B Corps don’t carry any particular legal or government status in Australia, the logo carries weight with consumers.

“Most market research finds
that the most important thing to consumers is a company’s reputation or credentials,” Emma Herd, EY Oceania Partner in Climate Change and Sustainability Services, says.

“B Corp Certification is a
quick and recognised way of demonstrating you are taking voluntary action to address sustainability issues that affect your markets, consumers and banks.”

There are more than 6,000 B Corps globally, including about 470 in Australia and New Zealand.

Big names include Danone and Patagonia.

The latest Australian business to join the ranks is designer furniture and lighting supplier Living Edge.

With showrooms nationwide, the luxury retailer has a 15-year history of sustainable practice, from partnering with eco-friendly brands to using electric vehicles.

Living Edge Sustainability Strategist Guy Walsh says that certification — a “great validation of what we have achieved so far” — has provided pivotal business insights.

“We always believed we had a sustainable portfolio of products but going through the B Corp certification process was the first time we could look at an actual metric,” Walsh says.

“We found in the 2021-22 financial year, 69 percent of our revenue was generated from the sale of products certified to internationally recognised environmental accreditations.

“Another one that I found interesting, and which is so important for creating industry circularity, is that 21 percent of our revenue is coming from recycled materials. This data gives us a clear baseline to improve on.”

Constant improvement lies at the heart of B Corp. Businesses must recertify every three years as standards evolve. Australian firm WOWOWA Architecture, known for its whimsical and sustainable creations, was recently recertified after gaining B Corp status in 2019.

Director Monique Woodward says they “lost some points but gained others and that’s OK.”

She says certification has provided a “road map for growth” and helped the firm attract environmentally- focused clients.

“Our favourite residential family clients come to us because they believe what we believe, then also want a deliciously colourful and wildly textured home,” Woodward says. “Crumpler came to us wanting a fresh but nostalgic look thatspoke to their motto ‘bags that will probably outlast you’. We are now doing all their stores.”

For Woodward, industry and supply chain sustainability can improve if more firms jump on the B Corp bandwagon.

“Moving forward, all projects need to far exceed current regulatory requirements. Award winners
need to push hard and set new benchmarks for zero carbon, no waste, no gas as the bare minimum,” she says.

According to B Lab, B Corps are 4.5 times more likely than other businesses to use 100 percent renewable energy and 7.3 times more likely to be carbon-neutral.

EY Oceania sustainability expert Herd says the pressure is on business to be more sustainable.

“The investment thesis of ESG and sustainability is that a well-managed company on ESG credentials is generally better run and more profitable,” she says.

“We are seeing it’s harder for companies to do nothing on sustainability and ESG. We’re also seeing an increased push from business in Australia to government to provide consensus building around accredited certification schemes. There is a hunger from business to have a benchmark.”

For newly-minted B Corp Living Edge, certification is a gamechanger for business and consumers.

“Now we have got a measure for how sustainable our products are, we can be more targeted when we bring brands to market,” Walsh says.

“Our brand is not about throwaway consumables or fast furniture. We’re building a socially responsible and sustainable business. B Corp Certification is valuable to our customers because it gives them third-party assurance that we’re trying to do the right thing.”

In our 20s, my new husband and I took a year off from our fledgling careers to travel in Southeast Asia. Equipped with paper maps, we began in China and improvised each day’s “itinerary” on the go. A gap year for grown-ups, I called it, although I scarcely qualified as one.

Nearly 40 years later, we are new retirees with the same wanderlust. We wondered: Could we recapture the thrill of winging it, enduring rough roads and cheap hotels?

We could and did, but for 2½ months instead of 12. We mapped out a route that would take us up Africa’s east coast and then—who knows where? Here’s how we rolled and five important lessons we learned on a 6,000-mile trip.

Kenya: Live large by day

Our first stop was the tiny, car-free island of Lamu, well-known for its high-profile visitors, from Kate Moss to the Obamas. This low-key getaway offered white-sand beaches, dhows — boats you can rent for day cruises and snorkelling — and lots of donkeys, the main mode of transport.

We considered the beachside Peponi Hotel in Shela, a hot spot since the 1960s (Mick Jagger bunked there). But room rates start at $250, far above our per-night budget of $70 or less. When contemplating almost 100 nights of travel, price matters.

So we chose a villa in the dunes called Amani Lamu, $61 per night for an en suite room with a private terrace and shared plunge pool.

We still had a cool Peponi moment come sunset: On the hotel’s whitewashed veranda, we sipped Pepotinis and plotted our next day’s interlude at the Majlis, Lamu’s fanciest resort (from $580).
With a $20 day pass, we could lounge around its pools and beach bars like proper resort habitués.

Lesson learned: Live like billionaires by day and frugal backpackers by night.
Must-go: Across the bay on Manda Island, bunk a night in a thatched-roof bungalow on stilts at Nyla’s Guest House and Kitchen (from $48 with breakfast).
After a dinner of doro wat, a spicy Ethiopian chicken stew and rice, the sound of waves will lull you asleep.

Egypt: Ask. Politely.

From Lamu, we flew to Aswan in Egypt. Our “plan”: Cruise down the Nile to Luxor, then take a train to Cairo, and venture to Giza’s pyramids.

Turns out it’s the kind of thing one really should book in advance. But at our Aswan hostel, the proprietor, who treated us like guests deserving white-glove service, secured a felucca, a vessel manned by a navigator and captain-cum-cook. Since we’d booked fewer than 24 hours in advance and there were no other takers, we were its sole passengers for the three-day trip.

One day, we stopped to tour ancient temples and visit a bustling camel fair, but otherwise, we remained on board watching the sunbaked desert slide by. We slept on futons on the deck under the stars. The cost: about $100 per night per person, including three meals.

Lesson learned: Ask for help. We found Egyptians kind and unfazed by our haplessness, especially when we greeted them respectfully with assalamu alaikum (“Peace to you”).
Must-go: For buys from carpets to kebabs, don’t miss Cairo’s massive Khan el-Khalili bazaar, in business since 1382. We loved the babouche, cute leather slippers, but resisted as our packs were full.

Turkey: Heed weather reports

Next stop Tunisia, via a cheap flight on EgyptAir. We loved Tunisia, but left after six days because the weather got chilly.

Fair enough, it was January. We hopped continents by plane and landed in Istanbul, where it snowed. Fortunately, two of Istanbul’s main pleasures involve hot water. We indulged in daily hammams, or Turkish baths, ranging from $30 to $60 for services that included, variously, a massage, a scrub-down and a soak.

Beneath soaring ceilings at the temple-like Kılıç Ali Paşa Halamı, brisk workers sternly wielded linen sacks to dowse my body in a cloud of hot foam.
In between visits to Ottoman-era mosques and the city’s spice markets, we staved off the chill by drinking fruity pomegranate tea and sampling Turkish delight and baklava at tea salons.

A favourite salon: Sekerci Cafer Erol in Kadıköy, a ferry-ride away on the “Asian” side of Istanbul, where the city adjoins Asia.

Lesson learned: Pay attention to the weather gods. We foolishly took the concept of travelling off-season too far.
Must-go: Don’t miss the Istanbul Modern, the Renzo Piano-designed art museum in the historic Beyoğlu district.

Cambodia: Chill out

After a long flight from Istanbul, we spent two weeks in Laos and then hopped another plane to Cambodia, specifically Koh Rong Sanloem, another car-free island.

Like vagabonds, we lolled by the warm, super-blue water of Sunset Beach, steps from our bungalow at Sleeping Trees (from $54 per night).
A caveat: You have to sweat to get to this island paradise. We took a bus, a ferry and then hiked for 40 minutes up and down a steep hill and through a jungle. You’ll find only a handful of “resorts”—simple bungalow complexes like ours. There’s nothing much to do. I’ll be back.

Lesson learned: Until our week in Cambodia, we’d been travelling too much and too fast, prioritising exploration over relaxation. This island taught us the pleasures of stasis.
Must-go: Spend one day in Cambodia’s capital city, Phnom Penh, to delve into its sobering history. Tour the Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre, site of a Killing Field, where nearly 9,000 Cambodians died.

Thailand: Be a frugal hedonist

We spent our last two weeks on the island of Ko Samui, where season three of “The White Lotus” was shot.

We went there for its astounding beauty, not the luxury resort experience that comes with too many boisterous lads on vacation, snake farms and traffic jams in town.

Truth be told, we flouted our budget rules to book an Airbnb with a pool (from $300) in the hills of Lipa Noi on the island’s quiet side. We joined the nearby Gravity Movement Gym to work out, but cooked our own meals to keep our final tabulation of expenses within reach.

Lesson learned: Pinching pennies feels restrictive, no matter how lush the surroundings. And it leads to bickering, as partners tally up who squandered how much on what.
With the end in sight, we splurged on the villa and even bought souvenirs, knowing we’d lug them for days, not weeks.
Must-go: Take the 30-minute ferry to sister island Ko Pha Ngan for its peace, love and yoga vibe and, once a month, full-moon parties.
Via Airbnb, we bunked at a Thai house called Baan Nuit, run by the Dear Phangan restaurant proprietors.

We sampled steamed dumplings, white fish in a Thai basil sauce and spicy noodles for a mere $15 apiece.
Hey, indulge in that “White Lotus” moment if you dare!