What Counts as Greenwashing in 2025?
Greenwashing doesn’t always lie. Sometimes it just wants you to stop asking questions.
The Shape-Shifting Game of Greenwashing
Back in the day, greenwashing was easy to clock. It was loud, clumsy, and usually came in the form of a leafy logo on a plastic bottle or a fast fashion brand bragging about “eco-conscious” jeans while selling 700 new styles a week. There wasn’t much strategy behind it — just brands trying to cash in on the sustainability buzz without doing the actual work.
Now? It’s not so obvious.
In 2025, greenwashing doesn’t wave a flag. It hides in the footnotes of ESG reports, on landing pages full of buzzwords, or inside vague product tags that say “more sustainable” without saying how, why, or compared to what. Sometimes it shows up as net-zero claims based entirely on carbon offsets. Other times, it doesn’t show up at all — because some brands have decided it’s safer to say nothing than risk being accused of saying the wrong thing.
That’s the trick with modern greenwashing — it rarely looks like a lie. It looks like a polished website. A capsule collection. A promise. A logo on recycled cardboard.
And that’s why it’s so effective.
So what actually counts as greenwashing now? What does it look like when it’s not just obviously fake, but technically true and still kind of manipulative? Because it’s happening all around us, just in better outfits.
From Lies to Loopholes — How the Definition Has Evolved
The old version of greenwashing was easy to define. A company made a claim that was false, full stop. It was the classic bait-and-switch: telling people a product was biodegradable, recyclable, or organic when it wasn’t. That version still exists — but it’s not what most brands are doing anymore. Not openly, anyway.
What’s more common now is something subtler. Claims that aren’t totally untrue — they’re just… off. They're vague, overly broad, missing key context, or buried in language that technically checks out but leads people to the wrong conclusion. And that's the point. It's not about being honest — it's about being plausible.
We’re in the era of loophole greenwashing. Where a company will say “climate neutral” but only because it’s bought a bunch of offsets. Or where a “sustainable” label really just means the item has one better material, even though everything else — the labor, the production, the shipping — is exactly the same.
Sometimes it’s even sneakier than that. A brand will publish a “sustainability report,” but cherry-pick only the metrics that look good. Or highlight one recycled product line while keeping their core business model untouched. Or they’ll say nothing at all, because they’ve decided it’s safer to keep quiet than to be called out.
This is the new reality. Greenwashing today isn’t about lying outright. It’s about managing perception — using just enough data, just enough marketing language, and just enough ambiguity to look like you're doing something, even when you're not. It’s designed to pass the quick scan. Most people won’t dig deeper. And that’s the bet brands are making.
The New Toolkit — How Greenwashing Actually Works Now
Here’s the thing. Most brands aren’t out here telling straight-up lies anymore. It’s not 2010. No one’s dumb enough to say “we’re saving the planet” in Comic Sans next to a pile of polyester.
Now it’s cleaner. Smoother. Designed to look like transparency — but only just enough to avoid real accountability. There’s a whole playbook at this point, and once you know what to look for, you start seeing it everywhere.
Take this one: a brand puts out a new collection and slaps on a label that says “responsibly made.” That phrase doesn’t mean anything. There’s no standard definition, no requirement to explain what’s behind it. But it sounds good, right? You assume it means better sourcing, better labor conditions, less waste. But if you actually go looking for proof — most of the time, there’s nothing there. Maybe one recycled material, maybe a line in the press release about reducing impact. But the rest? Business as usual.
Or this: “carbon neutral.” That one’s everywhere now. But when you dig, you realize what it really means is that the brand hasn’t changed much operationally — they’ve just bought a bunch of carbon credits to offset their emissions. No product redesign. No shift in volume. Just a payment to make the footprint “go away” on paper.
Another one I see all the time? Selective storytelling. They’ll talk about progress — we reduced emissions here, or we launched a “more sustainable” fabric there — but they’ll leave out the full picture. Like the fact that production volume went up. Or that emissions in other parts of the business actually got worse. But those don’t make it into the Instagram carousel.
Even silence is part of the toolkit now. A lot of brands that used to talk about sustainability have gone quiet. Because greenhushing — choosing not to say anything at all — has become the new move. It’s like, “If we don’t make any claims, we can’t get accused of greenwashing.” Which is technically true, but also kind of wild when you think about how much sustainability has shifted from being a priority to a liability in PR strategy.
What makes all of this so slippery is that none of it looks shady on the surface. It’s designed not to. That’s the whole point. These tactics are meant to give you just enough confidence to move on — to close the browser tab, to stop asking questions, to feel like you made a better choice. But once you know the cues, once you’ve seen behind the curtain, you start noticing how thin the claims really are.
And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
Case Studies — What Greenwashing Looks Like in Real Time
Alright, so here’s where we bring receipts. None of this is hypothetical — these tactics are happening constantly across fashion, from luxury brands to ultra-fast players. And they don’t all look the same. Some are polished, data-backed, and dressed up in ESG language. Others are pure distraction wrapped in trend-driven design. But the common thread is always the same: more attention on the story than the substance.
Let’s start with one of the biggest players:
H&M – The Higg Index Debacle
H&M has been marketing its “Conscious Collection” for years — pieces made with “more sustainable” materials and tagged with impact claims using something called the Higg Index. Sounds solid, right? A techy-sounding tool to show environmental impact? Except the Higg Index wasn’t designed for product-level marketing. It gives industry average data, not specific insights into a particular garment. That means H&M was presenting generalized material scores as if they were custom environmental footprints. Regulators in Norway and the Netherlands stepped in, and H&M had to backpedal hard.
What it teaches:
Even when brands use tools or data, context matters. A sustainability claim is only as strong as the system behind it — and consumers shouldn’t be expected to decode all the fine print to get the full story.
Zara – “Join Life” and the Problem with Vague Claims
Zara’s “Join Life” label is everywhere now — it’s how the brand flags pieces made with “more sustainable materials.” But that phrase means almost nothing without more info. What materials? Compared to what? How much of the collection actually qualifies? There’s usually no lifecycle data, no breakdown of impact, and no info about what the rest of the product (the labor, the finishings, the dyes) is made from. Just a tag and a good feeling.
What it teaches:
This is classic ambiguity. Words like “more sustainable” or “responsibly made” mean whatever the brand wants them to mean — unless there’s actual data, sourcing info, or standards attached. Which, most of the time, there isn’t.
Shein – evoluSHEIN as a Distraction Tactic
Shein is one of the fastest, most criticized fashion models on the planet. In 2022, they launched “evoluSHEIN” — a line that used recycled polyester and promised “responsible sourcing.” But it made up less than 1% of their overall inventory. Nothing about the brand’s core systems changed. It was essentially a marketing side hustle. And it worked — tons of headlines, influencer partnerships, press buzz. But while that tiny capsule line got all the attention, Shein was still pumping out thousands of new SKUs daily, using the exact same supply chain.
What it teaches:
One “eco” product line doesn’t mean much if the rest of the business isn’t shifting. These micro-collections are often just image management — enough to say we’re doing something without actually doing much at all.
Allbirds – The Offset Debate
Allbirds positioned itself early on as the sustainable sneaker brand. And to be fair, they’ve done a lot: better materials, transparency reports, even putting carbon footprints on product pages. But the brand also leaned heavily on carbon offsets to make big claims like “this shoe is carbon neutral.” The issue? Offsets don’t erase emissions. They’re a compensation tool — not a solution. And when a company’s total emissions are still rising year over year, but it’s still saying “we’re neutral,” it starts to feel like greenwashing dressed up in better math.
What it teaches:
Offsets aren’t automatically bad. But when they’re used as a primary strategy — instead of reducing emissions at the source — they can mislead consumers into thinking a brand is cleaner than it actually is.
PrettyLittleThing – Green Aesthetics, No Substance
PLT launched a recycled collection and gave it a full greenwashed makeover: earthy tones, soft lighting, sustainable-sounding language. But scratch the surface, and the materials were minimal (mainly recycled polyester), and nothing about the brand’s actual production model changed. This is the “if it looks eco, it must be” play — and it works, especially on platforms like Instagram where visuals carry more weight than sourcing info.
What it teaches:
Design is part of the deception. Brands use color, font, tone, and aesthetic to signal sustainability, even when there’s nothing behind it. That emotional nudge — that vibe — is powerful. But it’s not proof.
These aren’t isolated stories. They’re part of a broader shift — where greenwashing isn’t just about what’s being said, but how it's being framed, what’s being left out, and how it’s designed to make you feel like you’re making a good choice.
It’s not about blaming people for falling for it. That’s the whole point. The marketing is built to pass as credible. But now that the tactics are on the table, the goal is to get sharper. Faster. More skeptical. Because the more we recognize the patterns, the harder they are to pull off.
When Saying Nothing Becomes the Strategy
Not every brand out here is overhyping their sustainability efforts. Some have gone quiet — and not because they’ve suddenly decided to overhaul their operations. It’s something else. Something more… calculated.
Welcome to greenhushing. It’s exactly what it sounds like: brands deliberately choosing to dial down or completely drop their sustainability messaging — not because they’ve stopped doing the work (though many have), but because they don’t want the scrutiny that comes with talking about it.
And to be honest, that scrutiny can be intense. Consumers are smarter, watchdogs are louder, and sustainability claims — even legit ones — get picked apart. Sometimes that’s productive. Sometimes it’s performative. But either way, it creates risk. So brands are pulling back. Less public data, fewer press releases, no bold claims. If nothing’s said, nothing can be criticized — right?
The issue is, silence doesn’t equal progress. When brands stop talking, we don’t know if they’re actually improving or just waiting for the noise to die down. And that ambiguity helps no one.
Even the brands that are often held up as leaders aren’t immune. Patagonia, for example, has built a reputation for being radically transparent — and in many ways, they’ve earned it. But they’ve had their own contradictions too. They still rely on synthetic materials. They’ve scaled massively. And while their marketing often hits the right notes, that doesn’t mean every part of their operation is perfect. No brand is. And pretending otherwise only reinforces the idea that sustainability is a fixed identity instead of an ongoing negotiation.
So what do we do with that? The point isn’t to cancel brands for trying. It’s to stay awake. To keep asking questions — even when the messaging goes quiet. Because whether a brand is greenwashing loudly or greenhushing quietly, the effect is the same: it becomes harder to tell what’s real, and what’s just well-managed perception.
And that’s exactly why this conversation matters.
What the Law Says (and Still Doesn’t)
For a long time, greenwashing was just a marketing problem. Brands could say pretty much whatever they wanted, throw a leaf on the label, and nobody was really checking. There were no standards, no penalties, and no real consequences unless it crossed into outright fraud — which most companies were smart enough to avoid.
But that’s shifting now. Slowly.
Regulators have started to realize that vague claims and half-truths aren’t just annoying — they’re actually blocking meaningful climate action. If companies can say they’re “sustainable” without backing it up, it makes it harder for consumers to make informed choices, and harder for real progress to stand out from the noise.
So yeah, the law is catching up. Kind of. Here’s what’s on the table right now:
EU Green Claims Directive (2024–2025 rollout)
This is one of the boldest moves so far. The EU is basically saying: “If you want to call a product sustainable, prove it.” No more vague terms. No more unverifiable impact claims. Under the new rules, brands have to back every environmental claim with scientific evidence and get it independently verified. If it can’t be substantiated, it can’t be used.
Also banned? Generic labels like “climate neutral” or “eco-friendly” unless the company shows exactly how they got there — and whether offsets were involved.
Why it matters:
This flips the burden of proof back onto the brand. You don’t get to make the claim first and figure out the data later.
FTC Green Guides (Updated version expected 2025)
In the U.S., the FTC’s Green Guides have been around since the ’90s, but they’re finally getting updated to reflect the new reality. Expect stricter definitions around words like “recyclable,” “compostable,” and especially “carbon neutral.”
These guides aren’t laws on their own — but they’re what the FTC uses to decide if a company is misleading consumers. So once the update drops, enforcement will likely get a lot more aggressive.
Why it matters:
Greenwashing in the U.S. has lived in a legal gray zone for years. This could help close some of those gaps — especially in fashion, where recycled content and “conscious” labels have run wild.
UK CMA Green Claims Code
The UK has taken a proactive stance with its Green Claims Code, which gives brands six clear rules: be truthful, clear, specific, and backed by evidence — and don’t leave out key info. The CMA has already launched investigations into fashion retailers, and issued warnings to brands like ASOS and Boohoo about their vague “green” collections.
Why it matters:
The enforcement is real — and fashion is in the crosshairs.
Australia – ASIC and ACCC Crackdowns
Australia’s regulators have gone especially hard on financial greenwashing — like ESG claims in investor presentations or vague sustainability promises on superfunds. But they’ve also turned their attention to fashion, cosmetics, and food sectors, making it clear that “green” needs to mean something — or else.
Why it matters:
This is where greenwashing gets expensive. Fines, legal action, investor pressure — it’s not just a PR issue anymore.
And yet, for all of this, there’s still no global baseline. Each country is doing its own thing. Some are faster than others. And most of these frameworks are still reactive — designed to punish brands after the claim has been made, not prevent it in the first place.
So sure, the walls are closing in a little. But loopholes still exist. Brands are still testing the limits. And enforcement takes time — especially when regulators are trying to decode marketing language that was never meant to be transparent in the first place.
That’s why public pressure still matters. And why this isn’t just a legal issue — it’s a literacy issue. The more people understand how greenwashing works, the harder it becomes to get away with.
So What Does Count as Greenwashing Now?
After all that — the tactics, the case studies, the regulatory shifts — we’re still left with a murky question: what actually counts as greenwashing today?
Because it’s not as simple as “they lied” anymore. Most of the time, brands aren’t lying. They’re just being vague. Or strategic. Or careful about what they show and what they don’t. And that’s where things get tricky — because technically true claims can still be deeply misleading if they’re designed to push a narrative that doesn’t match reality.
So where do I land on all this?
If a brand’s entire sustainability message is built around making you feel better without showing what’s actually changing — it’s greenwashing. Period.
If they’re relying on aesthetics, wordplay, or offsets to gloss over the fact that nothing’s actually changed? That’s greenwashing.
If the data is cherry-picked, the language is intentionally vague, or the “sustainable” product line is just a drop in an otherwise overflowing ocean of waste? You get the idea.
Intent matters. But impact matters more.
Because whether the goal was to manipulate, to distract, or just to make a complex problem easier to sell — the result is the same: people think things are getting better when they’re not. And that false sense of progress is what makes greenwashing so dangerous.
It slows down the real work. It gives cover to companies that should be doing more. And it makes it harder for the brands who are trying — messily, imperfectly, but honestly — to stand out.
So if you’re trying to figure out whether a claim is legit or just spin, start with this:
Does the brand show receipts?
Is it clear what’s being claimed — and what isn’t?
Are they acknowledging the parts that still need work, or just flexing the good bits?
Is the message designed to inform you — or to get you to stop asking questions?
If it feels like the goal is to make you comfortable, not curious — that’s a red flag.
Final Thought — Call Things What They Are
Greenwashing isn’t just a branding problem. It’s a systems problem. A design problem. A story problem. It’s the gap between what we’re told and what’s actually happening — and that gap gets wider the more complex sustainability becomes.
The thing is, most people don’t have time to read a full LCA or comb through footnotes in an ESG report. That’s not on them. The responsibility shouldn’t fall on the consumer to be a part-time investigator just to figure out whether a pair of jeans is actually low-impact or just wearing a recycled badge.
But this is the landscape we’re in. The more sustainability gets baked into branding, the more we need to understand how that branding works. Not to become cynical. Not to cancel every brand that gets it wrong. But to build some literacy — and learn to call things what they are.
Sometimes that means calling out the obvious greenwashing. Other times, it means noticing the stuff that’s been dressed up to pass — the language, the framing, the design, the silence. Because it’s all part of the same story.
The good news is once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
And that’s the start of being able to think, question, and navigate differently — even when the message is polished, the claims sound good, and the branding is built to make you feel like everything’s fine.