From December through February, the first thing I did when I got home from middle school was whip up a big pot of hot chocolate to thaw myself after braving the cold of Midwestern winters. Save for an uncharacteristic cold spell the first week I was here, Paris has thankfully proven milder than Cleveland, Ohio, but the appeal of warming up with a chocolat chaud persists across the Atlantic. Famous for its luxuriously rich hot chocolate, Paris’s offerings for this classic winter beverage have not disappointed me. Yet, every time my frigid fingers cup around a chocolat chaud, I can’t help but wonder how many frozen-over winters our planet has left before our world becomes a planète chaude due to climate change.
One of the first cultural differences I noticed between Paris and back home is the difference in attitude towards the climate crisis. Between implemented policy and individual habits, France is far more concerned with the environment than the United States.
Paris has become practically synonymous with international climate policy. The Paris Agreement was a landmark treaty that legally bound its 196 signatories to take action on climate change and limit “the global average temperature to well below 2 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels.” It was signed at the United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP21) on Dec.12, 2015, and has been critical to prompting international climate action ever since.
Domestically, France has made sustainability a cornerstone of its policies. More than 70% of its energy comes from nuclear power, a result of a long-standing policy aiming to maintain the country’s energy security. The country also invests heavily in public transit: in 2020, France spent €6.7 billion on transit infrastructure. I’ve seen firsthand how this investment has translated to a clean and efficient metro that can get me anywhere in the city. These types of policies set the stage for a more sustainability-oriented attitude across the population.
Beyond France’s climate policies, I have noticed that Parisians forgo many conveniences Americans take for granted in the name of sustainability. For example, a Parisian may walk to their local butcher, produce vendor, and boulangerie for the week’s groceries while an American would drive to the supermarket or order them via Instacart.
Although an individual’s actions are not the sole cause or solution for climate change, a shift away from the world’s current consumerist mindset will be necessary as we face the reality that energy and resources are not infinite. Across the board, Parisians seem more aware of this and, thus, are more mindful of sustainability in their daily practices. From cooking and fashion to energy and beyond, here are some of the ways I’ve seen Parisians embrace sustainability.
The French Kitchen
The first difference I noticed was in the kitchen. With one of the world’s most celebrated cuisines, French food leaves little room for complaint. Part of what makes French cooking so divine is the fresh ingredients they use. Many of the meals I’ve shared with my host family are simple, yet delicious because they let the ingredients shine through. Fresh ingredients are all about timing.
Like every fruit stand in Paris, my host family’s kitchen is overflowing with citrus because it is in season. Berries will have to wait until summer (unless they’re frozen). Not only does this culinary timing ensure better produce, but it also minimizes the environmental impact by prioritizing local foods. Even French pantry staples are more sustainable than their American counterparts, often packaged in paper instead of plastic. The extra time spent decanting paper bags of nuts into glass jars is worth it to me to not use plastic. France also passed a law banning grocery stores from discarding edible food, further preventing food waste.
Another subtle sustainability habit in the kitchen is the prevalence of compost bins in Paris. Almost every one of my classmates has one in their host family’s home. In the United States, I have always perceived compost as a rarity done only by the highly environmentally conscious, but in Paris, it is standard practice.
Not-So-Fast Fashion
One of my favorite ways that sustainability manifests itself in Paris is the plethora of vintage stores and flea markets across the city. As the fashion capital of the world, Paris is filled with stylish people. Luckily for me, I can scour through their previously loved pieces in second-hand shops across the city. From kilo shops that sell clothes by the kilogram to high-end vintage designer boutiques, there are stores for everyone to score great finds. The sheer volume of vendors is unmatched, and once you step inside, the quality and style of the clothing make it feel easy to build a fashionable wardrobe in an earth-friendly way. I was happy to hunt for days for the perfect vintage shoulder bag instead of just ordering one on Amazon. Turns out that in Paris, sustainable fashion is très chic!
Très Mindful, Très Demure
Perhaps the most shocking cultural difference between France and the United States is the French aversion to wasting energy. Compared to Harvard dorms where I wear short sleeves and shorts to bed and still wake up sweating, French buildings tend to run a bit colder, necessitating more layering on my end. Likewise, lights are often on timers so they don’t get left on for too long. In Paris, most of my friends and I line-dry our clothes. In so many areas where Americans choose comfort, Parisians choose to employ a little more manual labor to save energy.
I never realized how careless Americans can be with energy use until I moved here. In France, higher taxes on energy have led to more efficient consumption. It’s easy to turn up the thermostat a few degrees without thinking about the environmental impact, but it’s just as simple to throw on a sweater instead to make sure winters stay cold.
Sustainability in France can at times feel inconvenient, especially since living in America we’re accustomed to getting things exactly the way we want them in the fastest way possible. But does this convenience always make us happier or better off? Is this convenience worth its price? Perhaps we could learn from the French—cook meals with family instead of DoorDashing dinner, or maybe bike somewhere instead of driving. A collective shift away from convenience and towards sustainability will ensure we can all enjoy many more frozen winters warmed up by hot chocolates.
Frances Connors ’26 (maryfrancesconnors@college.harvard.edu) was once an Environmental Science and Public Policy Concentrator.