Two people, one promise: if they were going to make rum in Devon, it would not damage the planet. That promise is at the heart of Two Drifters, the carbon negative distillery started by Russ and Gemma Wakeham. In this on site episode of The Responsible Edge, we walked through the warm, sugary air of their working distillery to learn how science, data and storytelling come together in a bottle of British rum.

The Origin Story

Their journey with rum began long before it became a business. Their first date was at a rum tasting in Bristol. Their honeymoon was in St Lucia, where, as Gemma remembers, rum was “cheaper than water.” After years of moving for Russ’s chemistry career, from Vancouver to Wales, they wanted to raise their daughter back home in Devon. That choice collided with a bigger idea: build a distillery that makes rum from scratch in Britain, not just blends it, and do it in a way where growth does not mean more emissions.

“It won’t be my business that hurts the planet,” says Gemma.

“If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it with everything we have, without adding to global warming.”

From Why to How: Making Carbon Negative Rum

Russ looked at the challenge as a scientist. The first step was to measure everything. They carried out a full life cycle assessment, looking at every stage from sugar cane and molasses to pallets, couriers, bars, ice cubes, and glass recycling. The results were eye opening. Sugar inputs carry a big share of the impact. The use phase matters too. And global sugar supply chains are hard to trace.

The solution is not a slogan, it is a system. First, reduce impacts wherever possible. Then, remove what is left through permanent carbon removal. The distillery works with direct air capture so removals are real and can be checked.

“You build the business so that cutting comes first, because removals are expensive, and you only remove what you cannot cut,” Russ explains.

Credibility Over Hype

The couple are honest about trade offs. Gemma recalls turning down a tempting London Underground ad campaign after learning that the posters used laminated plastic and paper with a heavy footprint.

“You can’t talk about sustainability on an unsustainable platform,” she says.

These choices are easier when carbon has a real cost inside your business plan. Russ calls it an in house carbon price: a simple way of thinking that pushes every choice, from bottles to transport to advertising, toward lower impact.

And they don’t expect customers to buy for the planet. “First bottles are earned on taste and quality,” Gemma says.

“But the second bottle? That’s where our story helps.”

Tours often turn curiosity into loyalty. Visitors leave having seen the science and the ethos up close.

Storytelling That Stands Up

This episode looks at The Power of Climate Storytelling, and Two Drifters is a live case study. Gemma’s role is to keep the story joyful and clear. Russ focuses on the data, making sure it would survive a scientist’s review. Their advice for other founders: pick one issue you really care about, measure it properly, be honest about the gaps, and start now. If you use sustainability only as a marketing tool, it will backfire. If you design the business around it, the marketing will take care of itself.

The Big Vision

When asked about the future, Gemma dreams of a destination distillery where visitors can see carbon systems in action, pedal to make power, and learn why certain bottles or closures are used. In her words, it should be sustainability made visible and fun. Russ wants the numbers to add up at scale. He sees a challenger brand that proves internal carbon pricing and credible removals can build profit and force the big players to react.

“Make it profitable, and change follows,” he says. “Price carbon properly, and the market will do the rest.”

Closing Takeaway

Two Drifters is not selling virtue. It is selling excellent rum built on a system that refuses to pass hidden costs onto others. That is the responsible edge here: lead with product, back it with proof, and make the tough choices clear. If more founders did this, climate storytelling would not need to sugarcoat the message, it would simply tell the truth.

“For me, it starts and finishes with people. Think about the effect we have on people, how you make them feel, how we communicate.”

That people-first mindset now shapes how he sees one of fashion’s biggest challenges: the gap between endless sustainability talk and meaningful action.

The Problem: Conferences Without Clarity

Simon’s biggest frustration is how the textile industry handles sustainability.

“We have lots of sustainability conferences… but what I miss sometimes is, okay, what happens next?”

He describes a sector weighed down by acronyms — ESPR, CSRD, CSDDD — while still running on outdated processes. Brands talk about change, but the follow-through is patchy. The result? Confusion, delay, and missed chances to cut waste and emissions.

The Three Pillars of Change

The article Simon had read before coming on the show, Get Ready for the EU’s Eco-Design and Digital Product Passports, gave him a phrase he couldn’t shake:

“For some reason the words holy trinity came to me… because the article was talking about the three things that are so important in industry: one, regulation; two, digital tools; and three, fibre innovation.”

For clarity, he frames them as three pillars:

• Regulation gives brands a clear North Star on durability, repairability and recyclability. “There’s nothing more sustainable than a garment that lasts.”

• Digital Product Passports can cut waste from endless samples and offer traceability. “In a few years, we’ll be looking back saying, gosh, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

• Fibre Innovation is where Hyosung places its bets: recycled elastane, mono-material garments, and new bio-based fibres from corn and sugar cane. “Either we’ll invent something that will help us with the recycling, or a new product will evolve that delivers the benefits of elastane but supports a more efficient recycling process.”

The Elephant in the Room

Still, Simon doesn’t dodge the harder truth:

“On a personal level, I would find it hard to disagree that we probably have all the things we need right now and don’t need lots of extra stuff.”

He knows innovation won’t solve everything if fast fashion’s appetite for more keeps growing. But his view is pragmatic: “Trying to do something to move us in the right direction is better than nothing and waiting around for a perfect answer.”

The Magic Wand: Clarity

If given the chance to change one thing about the industry overnight, Simon wouldn’t ask for new tech or subsidies. He’d ask for focus.

“We have lots of sustainability conferences, events, discussions, panels… My challenge would be, how can we almost do a meta-analysis of all of those different things? That highlights four or five critical things… and then you’ve got such a powerful platform. For me, clarity of purpose is really important. And that leads to action.”

Leading Responsibly

For Simon, responsible leadership isn’t about perfection. It’s about persistence. Progress over paralysis. Collaboration over competition.

“None of us can do this on our own. The problems are too big. We need to collaborate.”

That, he argues, is the only way to turn fashion’s three pillars into more than words.

That statistic — borrowed from EY — doesn’t shock him. After a decade at Tesco, where he led energy and engineering across 4,500 sites in five countries, he knows just how hard it is to turn strategy into action. But he also knows it can be done.

At Tesco, he helped them beat their 2025 science-based target ahead of time — not through grand gestures, but through a detailed, iterative plan. “Every store, every year. Forecast, act, measure, iterate,” he says.

“It’s like nudging an oil tanker. But you can nudge it.”

What Makes a Plan Credible

Now at Avison Young, Chris leads sustainability and decarbonisation strategy in the built environment sector — one of the heaviest emitters and slowest movers. The challenge? Many firms are stuck in “paralysis,” staring down the total cost of transformation and freezing in place.

His advice is simple, but pointed:

“Start somewhere. Don’t start with the hardest bit. Start with the wins.”

For Wright, a credible plan doesn’t mean perfect forecasting. It means creating a live blueprint that links ambition to operations and procurement. A plan that can flex — forward, back, sideways — but always points in the same direction. “It becomes the bedrock of decision-making,” he explains.

“Without it, you’re just reacting.”

The Engineer’s Advantage

Chris is, first and foremost, an engineer. But unlike the stereotype, he doesn’t get lost in the technical. He uses it to cut through the noise.

“Good engineering is about why we can do something, not why we can’t,” he says. That mindset has served him well — not just on site, but in boardrooms.

He’s clear that decarbonisation isn’t just an ESG issue. It’s a business planning issue.

“Investors want to know what you’re doing, when, and why. A plan shows them the opportunity.”

Culture Change, One Word at a Time

Despite his systems-level focus, Chris repeatedly comes back to something softer, less tangible: culture.

At Tesco, adding a single word — “planet” — to the company’s purpose statement had a bigger impact than expected.

“It gave people something to rally behind,” he reflects. “It made it real.”

That clarity of purpose now fuels his work in the real estate sector, where leadership often means aligning dozens of players with conflicting incentives. The solution? “Shared vision equals reduced cost,” he says.

“We’re not competing here. We’re all heading the same way.”

Is It Really Possible to Lead Responsibly?

Chris’s answer is unequivocal: yes — but not in the abstract. Responsible leadership, he insists, is not about virtue signalling or mission statements. It’s about discipline, detail, and follow-through.

“Climate action isn’t just about ethics,” he says.

“It’s about sound corporate planning.”

In a world that loves to talk about the destination, Wright is a rare voice focused on the route map — and on making sure the wheels actually turn.

Edward isn’t your average paint entrepreneur. He’s a historian by training, an interior designer by trade, and, in his own words, “a slightly reluctant businessman” who stumbled into the world of paint-making when a project at Goodwood Estate opened his eyes to an uncomfortable truth: the stuff we use to coat our walls is, quite literally, covering our homes in plastic.

It was a revelation that sent him down a rabbit hole of history, chemistry, and corporate accountability. What he discovered wasn’t pretty.

“Since the 1950s, we’ve embraced polymer technology — plastic — to make modern paint,” Edward explains.

“It’s marketed as water-based, eco-friendly, safe. But look behind the label, and it’s often anything but.”

His response? Edward Bulmer Natural Paint — a range rooted in what he calls “ancient wisdom and innovative science”, using natural, plant-based ingredients rather than fossil fuel derivatives. But his mission goes beyond tins of paint. It’s a challenge to business as usual itself.

The Problem With Business as Usual

Edward’s views are shaped not only by his career but by his upbringing. Growing up in rural Herefordshire, surrounded by the legacy of his family’s cider business, he saw a model of capitalism that felt personal, connected, and — crucially — fair.

“Family businesses, when they work well, understand that looking after people and place isn’t a bolt-on. It’s part of the DNA,” he reflects.

“But too often, when businesses scale or float, that gets lost. The pursuit of endless profit takes over.”

It’s a sentiment that feels especially relevant in today’s fraught sustainability landscape. With political backlash brewing against ESG, and greenwashing rife, Edward believes transparency is now the most radical act a company can undertake.

His magic wand wish? Simple: ingredient labelling on paint tins.

“We declare what goes into food, cosmetics, cleaning products. Why not paint? If you knew you were coating your home in microplastics and petrochemicals, would you?”

Sustainability Isn’t Optional — It’s Survival

Beyond paint, Edward’s critique runs deeper. He’s blunt about the existential nature of the climate crisis, but also about the cognitive dissonance that allows large swathes of the commercial world to carry on as though business as usual is still an option.

“The climate effects are accelerating. The science is clear. But money still drives decisions,” he says.

“Until business understands that sustainability isn’t a nice-to-have — it’s the key to permanence — we’re stuck.”

It’s not just philosophical. It’s practical. Edward’s business model is a masterclass in solving multiple problems at once: healthy homes, heritage protection, reduced carbon footprint, and, yes, turning a profit.

“Every part of what we do can be profitable. Sustainability isn’t a sacrifice. It’s good business.”

The Optimism We Need (and the Honesty We Lack)

For all the frustrations, Edward isn’t cynical. He’s driven by a quiet, pragmatic optimism — one rooted in action, transparency, and a refusal to sugar-coat the challenges ahead.

“I couldn’t do business any other way now,” he says.

“We all need to start asking harder questions — of the products we buy, the companies we support, the systems we’ve inherited.”

Because whether it’s the paint on our walls, the food on our plates, or the future of our planet — ignorance might be easy, but it’s never harmless.

Cédric’s path from traditional finance to biodiversity metrics is both a personal and professional evolution. With experience at institutions like Schroders, Russell Investments, and Matter, he brings deep quantitative expertise to an area many in finance still struggle to define, let alone measure.

But what if nature wasn’t just priceless—but priced?

🌿 The Biodiversity Blindspot in Finance

“Historically, the financial sector has treated biodiversity as too complex to touch,” says Cédric. “But the reality is that biodiversity underpins our economy in ways we haven’t even begun to quantify.”

While climate has clearer proxies (like carbon), biodiversity lacks a single, unifying metric. This has made it easy to ignore—and difficult to regulate. That’s changing fast.

Cédric’s team at Matter is responding to frameworks like the Taskforce on Nature-related Financial Disclosures (TNFD) and evolving EU regulation by building datasets and scoring systems to bring biodiversity into the fold of investment decision-making. They’re quantifying exposure, impact, and alignment with global nature goals—all while navigating significant scientific and methodological uncertainty.

📉 From Gut Feel to Data-Driven Risk

Biodiversity loss isn’t just an ecological tragedy—it’s a material financial risk. Supply chains fail when pollinators disappear. Insurance claims rise when wetlands that prevent flooding are paved over. But these systemic risks are rarely captured in quarterly reports.

“We need to move from qualitative guesswork to decision-useful, quantitative data,” Cédric explains. “That means mapping corporate activity to actual biodiversity outcomes.”

Matter’s approach doesn’t just look at direct biodiversity impacts (like deforestation), but also indirect dependencies—such as water use or habitat fragmentation. The result? A far more granular picture of nature risk exposure.

🧠 Complexity Is a Feature, Not a Bug

Cédric is quick to caution against oversimplification.

“You don’t solve biodiversity the same way you solve carbon. It’s not a single figure; it’s a web of interdependencies. But that’s not a reason to give up—it’s a reason to lean in.”

Indeed, Matter’s work reflects a new kind of ESG thinking: one that embraces nuance and uncertainty, rather than papering over it with vanity metrics or green gloss.

🧭 What’s Next? Rethinking Value Itself

When asked what he hopes the industry will look like in 5–10 years, Cédric is clear:

“I hope we’ve moved past the idea that nature is an externality. It’s foundational. And our financial systems need to reflect that.”

That means not just better data—but better decisions. Capital must flow away from extractive business models and toward regenerative ones. That shift is already underway—but tools like Matter’s Natural Capital & Biodiversity Framework will be essential to accelerating it.

🧠 From the pitch to the plate

Growing up in a football academy wasn’t just about chasing dreams of sport—it was training in discipline, self-awareness, and what Gina calls “foundational resilience.” That same mindset later fuelled her curiosity around nutrition during injury recovery, eventually setting her on a path from performance nutritionist to ESG leadership.

But what really sets Gina apart is her clarity on a core challenge in sustainable food: knowing what to do doesn’t mean we actually do it.

“There’s a huge gap between intention and behaviour. People say they care—but the label on the sandwich rarely drives their choice.”

Cue the research.

🧪 The carbon-labelling study that stopped us in our tracks

Gina joined us to dissect a study in Science Direct that examined whether carbon labels on sandwiches influenced consumer choices. The results were sobering:

• 69% of people said they valued carbon labels

• Only 27% said it influenced their purchase

The implication? We’re walking into shops with good intentions, but walking out with a BLT.

Why? The study points to a lack of understanding of carbon labels, information overload, and competing priorities like cost and convenience.

“It’s like giving people a nutrition label in a language they don’t speak—and then expecting them to change their habits.”

This “action gap” isn’t new, but Gina believes it’s fixable—with the right internal tools and a behavioural nudge or two.

♻️ From sticker to system: How Aramark re-engineered food labelling

Here’s where the Rory Sutherland part kicks in.

What if carbon labelling isn’t just a sticker for the consumer, but a lever for chefs?

At Aramark, carbon data is now embedded into recipe systems, allowing teams to analyse high-impact meals and reformulate them at the source—quietly shifting sustainability without asking customers to make heroic choices.

This means:

• A chef uploads a new dish, and the carbon score auto-generates

• Recipes can be tweaked behind the scenes to lower carbon impacts

• Communication is handed over to other chefs, not a corporate team

“Chefs want to hear from chefs. They don’t want someone from corporate coming in telling them to cut beef.”

It’s a brilliantly behavioural move. Aramark doesn’t wait for customers to get fluent in carbon labelling—they engineer better choices upstream and make the sustainable option the easy one.

🧑‍🏫 Playing games, sparking conversations

That doesn’t mean the customer gets ignored. Gina and her team have launched a range of engagement tools, including…

🎮 Play Your Carbon Right – A sandwich-themed take on Play Your Cards Right, where users guess whether a meal is higher or lower in carbon than the last

📱 QR codes at points of sale – Linking to full carbon impact explanations

🥇 “A-Rated Dish of the Day” – Turning carbon labels into something people can aspire to, not just tolerate

“It’s about sparking curiosity, not guilting people into change.”

🪴 The big opportunity? Feeding 250,000 people… better

With Aramark serving over a quarter of a million meals daily in the UK alone, the stakes are high. Around 70% of their carbon footprint comes from food purchasing, especially animal-based ingredients.

That’s why Gina’s work is focused not just on reformulating dishes, but on sourcing regenerative produce, rethinking waste, and supporting smaller, sustainable suppliers across the value chain.

“We’re not perfect. No one is. But the scale of the opportunity in food is massive.”

Her ultimate goal? To embed ESG in every commercial decision by default—so it’s no longer a bolt-on, but a reflex.

✨ Final thought: ESG shouldn’t be exceptional

In her “magic wand” moment, Gina didn’t ask for a shiny new label or global policy breakthrough. She asked for something much simpler:

“I’d want ESG to be factored into every decision—automatically. Not an afterthought. Just part of how things are done.”

In a world of short-term targets and endless KPIs, it’s a radical idea cloaked in pragmatism.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s how change really happens: not with slogans, but with sandwiches.