The other day, I went to buy sausages at the supermarket - meatless, of course.

The first one I found talks about its health benefits: 75 per cent less saturated fat (compared to what? we aren't told) - also 'high in protein' and 'source of fibre'. Turning it over, I found a paragraph that actually parodies the idea of giving information: 'ummmmhaveihitthewordcountyetwhambamthankyoumam' - and so on. It avoids calling itself 'vegan'. It's definitely not trying to send a serious message about anything.

Its neighbour also says 'high protein", with no other nutritional or personal health benefits. But it mentions 'vegan' twice on the front of the packet, and makes a point of being 'carbon neutral', directing us to a site where a bearded man tells us he went plant-based because he knew it was the best way to 'save the planet'. (Its claims to carbon neutrality come down to offsetting - which is better than nothing).

No hipness - the reverse if anything; but concern bleeds from every word.

Ham & High: Sheila Hayman has been looking at activity around climate changeSheila Hayman has been looking at activity around climate change (Image: Sheila Hayman)

Comparing the two, I was reminded of arriving in 1990 in Los Angeles whose defining value seemed to be cognitive dissonance. Everybody drove SUVs to Whole Foods: baby greens might bruise in a bike pannier! Bikes were for exercising in Lycra on weekends, not getting from A to B.

But it wasn't cognitive dissonance, just a different value system. I was used to hefting sustainability, fairtrade, responsibility for the entire biodiversity of the planet into my basket with every organic purchase. Over there, organic was all about what eating it would do for my skin and hair: the aura of wellbeing that would trail behind as I jogged effortlessly along the beach.

'Organic' as My Body My Temple or as No Planet B. Just like the sausages.

But cognitive dissonance seems alive and well, in the contrast between the avowed attitude of British consumers to the climate emergency (75% saying we're worried or very worried) and what we're doing about it (almost nothing).

And yet the government's own Climate Change Committee says, "32% of emissions reductions up to 2035 rely on decisions by individuals and households". In other words, all that comforting stuff we tell ourselves, that it's all down to business and the government to change, is simply not true.

We're deeply worried. We know we can make a difference. But we don't.

So, here's my opening question: Why?

Sheila Hayman is a member of Climate Emergency Camden (CEC) climateemergencycamden.org