I recently finished writing my Literature Review, choosing the title: The Limits of Ethical Consumption as a Solution to Fast Fashion. It’s been an incredibly eye-opening deep dive into a topic I thought I understood on the surface but turned out to be far more nuanced and challenging. Delving into the complexities of ethical consumption has given me a clearer understanding of the gap between people’s ethical intentions and their actual purchasing behaviours—something I’ve often heard dismissed with the phrase, “it won’t make a difference.”

One of the most intriguing concepts I encountered was the Attitude-Behaviour Gap. This describes the disconnect between individuals’ expressed ethical intentions and their failure to follow through in practice. Scholars such as Shaw, McMaster, and Newholm attribute this gap to a lack of care and commitment, which resonated with me. It underscored how straightforward good intentions might seem, yet how difficult it can be to translate those intentions into consistent actions amidst the demands and contradictions of daily life.

Even more striking was the debate surrounding individual choice and systemic barriers. It’s easy to hold individuals accountable for not making ethical decisions, but many scholars highlight how structural factors restrict our ability to act on these choices. Bray, Johns, and Kilburn explore how the high cost of sustainable goods can make ethical consumption a privilege, accessible only to those who can afford it. This insight was particularly impactful, as it reframed my perspective on the limitations of ethical consumption as a universal solution. It’s not just about personal willingness but also about systemic inequalities that exclude large portions of the population from participating.

Another compelling argument came from Carrington, Zwick, and Neville, who suggest that an overemphasis on consumer choice distracts us from the ways capitalism inherently restricts those choices. Initially, this perspective was surprising, but as I thought more about it, the critique felt undeniably valid. The idea that the focus on ethical consumption might mask deeper systemic flaws—particularly those embedded in capitalist structures—was a revelation that shifted my thinking. Carrier’s argument, which posits that framing consumption as ethical within capitalism serves as a “necessary lie,” was particularly provocative. This critique challenged my assumptions about the capacity of individual purchasing decisions to address the global injustices entrenched in the fashion supply chain.

Thomas Pogge’s perspective added another layer of complexity, urging a broader understanding of ethical consumption. He suggests moving beyond the lens of individual choice to recognise the interconnected nature of global economic systems. His argument prompted me to reflect on the responsibilities of Western consumers, who often benefit from and support structures that perpetuate global inequality. This realisation felt uncomfortable but necessary, as it emphasised how ethical consumption is not just a personal issue but a deeply collective one.

Starting my literature review has been both challenging and enlightening. It’s clear that ethical consumption is far more complex than I initially imagined, involving a web of individual actions, systemic constraints, and global structures. It’s not just about what we buy but also about recognising the broader systems that shape those decisions. Exploring these ideas in the context of fast fashion has deepened my understanding of how personal responsibility and systemic change must work together—and I’m eager to continue unpacking how they intersect.