They're the New Puritans. A generation of young, educated and opinionated people determined to sidestep the consumerist perils of modern life. So if you own a 4x4, spend all your time shopping, or are simply overweight - watch your back. Lucy Siegle meets the moral minority aiming to mend our ways

Britain's largest fashion store is an unusual place to bump into a New Puritan, but it goes to show you never know these days. As a predominantly ethical shopper I try to stay away from this homage to disposable clothing, but I needed to buy a last-minute birthday present, so I queued up at the till and waited my turn. 'I'm duty bound to ask you if you want to open a store card with a preposterously uncompetitive interest rate,' announced the young male checkout assistant, who apart from his forthright views appeared for all the world a standard issue 19-year-old in unremarkable skater-boy dress. For my part, I felt duty bound to decline. 'Good,' he said. 'I never push them, sometimes I don't even mention them, because they just encourage people to get into debt. Personally,' he pauses to look up at the Sugarbabes gyrating on a large video screen, 'I'd ban store cards.'

Here I was in the nation's premier palace of impulse fashion being talked out of a store card. And all this in the very week that Kate Moss, unofficial poster girl for hedonism (as well as official poster girl for Burberry, H&M, et al), had been brought down. What on earth was going on?

'Something very interesting, indeed radical, is happening to Britain,' confirms Jim Murphy, associate director of the Future Foundation, the trends forecaster which coined the term 'New Puritan'. 'If you look at the way our lives are filled with different kinds of social opprobrium, a lot of people are increasingly under ethical pressures which influence their choices.'

According to the Future Foundation, we are increasingly curbing our enthusiasm for profligate consumption, and health and environment-threatening behaviours. Gone is the guilt-free pleasure-seeker, to be replaced by the model well-meaning citizen, the New Puritan - a tag interchangeable with neo-Cromwellian, if you really want to seal its 17th century origins - who thinks through the consequences of activities previously thought of as pleasurable and invariably elects to live without them. Think of it as the dieticians' favourite adage, 'a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips' given socio-economic resonance.

Arguably, these personal codes of conduct would be an arresting enough story on their own, but the New Puritan's curbs must also be extended to other people's behaviour, and wherever possible enshrined by legislation - for New Puritans do not fear the nanny state. According to Murphy, 'In common with all important movements, this one has a silent march. It's under-noticed and under-observed.'

Such stealth might suit elements of the movement quite well, especially when it comes to tackling the menace of the Sports Utility Vehicle. Part of the New Puritan brief is to penalise those who make poor choices on behalf of the rest of society - in this case the gas-guzzling, emissions-generating Montessori wagons that choke our town centres. In Paris, the well-supported rage against this particular machine comes in the form of Les Degonfles (The Deflated), a clandestine team who, in the dead of night, run round deflating the tyres of SUVs and splattering them with mud. Les Degonfles aim to deflate about 40 SUVs a week.

In the UK, the job of deterring SUVs has fallen to Sian Berry, a rational and reasonable young woman who runs the Alliance Against Urban 4x4s and spends her spare time posting offending vehicles with fake fixed penalty notices. Granted, this is lowintensity warfare; but if governments won't legislate - only Sweden has brought in plans to ban non-registered 4x4s, in Stockholm - then the New Puritans will go it alone, with only their principles for company.

Admittedly, these principles vary. But you can guess that a New Puritan does not binge drink, smoke, buy big brands, take cheap flights, eat junk food, have multiple sexual partners, waste money on designer clothes, grow beyond their optimum weight, subscribe to celebrity magazines, drive a flash car, or live to watch television. And the list is likely to grow longer: research by the Future Foundation has found that 80 per cent of people agreed that alcohol should not be allowed at work at all; 25 per cent said snack products should not be offered at business meetings; more than a third agreed that we should think twice before giving sweets and chocolates as gifts to family and friends, and a further 25 per cent thought that 'the government should start a campaign to discourage people from drinking alcohol on their own at home' (this rises to 41 per cent in Scotland).

These are all statistics that I find comforting, but it's obvious that this wave of opprobrium-bearers makes Jim Murphy more than a little uncomfortable - his original report on the phenomenon bears the pejorative title Assault on Pleasure.

'Ten years ago, many of these propositions would have been preposterous,' he says. 'My mother, for instance, would have thought it a terrible blow not to give a child sweeties; now the debate centres around whether it's in any way acceptable to do that. And by 2015,' he ventures, 'global tourism could be in decline, because taking a flight to Costa Rica is considered a terribly irresponsible thing to do.' Murphy also points out that a significant proportion of people agree that 'food companies should be made to pay a levy to the NHS for the cost of treating obesity'.

These are sobering thoughts for anyone connected to the pleasure market. But if you possess a shred of New Puritanical sensibility you're likely to think that the big brands - the junk-food peddlers, alcohol promoters, cigarette pushers and even the supermarkets - had it coming. That for too long these kinds of businesses reaped vast profits while riding roughshod over community spirit, public health and morality. The lack of a liberal backlash against increased policing of previously uncontroversial pleasures is significant, too. And it's a trade-off the New Puritans are clearly willing to make: extra nannying for extra peace of mind.

This is actually the sign of a maturing civil society, according to Dr Peter Whybrow, director of UCLA's Institute of Neuroscience and Human Behaviour, and author of American Mania: When More is not Enough, which charts what happens to society when we are pushed to the limits of our physical and mental tolerance.

'Civilisation offers no gifts to liberty,' he quotes from Sigmund Freud's Thirties essay, Civilisation and Its Discontents. Whybrow suggests that we use America as a cautionary tale, 'an indication of what happens when citizens turn into consumers, solely driven by immediate reward, and when consumerist impulses become substitutes for communities.'

Precisely the disturbing scenario that might prompt you to go and seek comfort in a ditch, which is what Hugh Sawyer has done. The 32-year-old Oxford law graduate's lifestyle statement about over-consumption and waste has made him a New Puritan poster boy. His soubriquet, Ditch Monkey, and eponymous website have also caught the imagination of the media, who have followed his commute between the ditch he calls home and his office at Sotheby's - he hopes one day to be an art dealer.

There are plenty of people who will view Sawyer's elective Puritanism as a bit of a stunt, but equally it could be argued that it's precisely the kind of attention-grabbing gesture that will help New Puritans get their way. For although there is a perception that the Labour government is at the vanguard of an assault on all kinds of pleasure, and ready to legislate at a moment's notice, is that really the case? Not really, says Sunder Katwala, general secretary of the Fabian Society: 'There are no immediate levers to pull in Westminster and Whitehall to increase public health, for example, or reduce teenage pregnancy rates. Politics is itself in too poor health,' he adds. 'There is little legitimacy in seeking collective solutions to social problems, even when the outcome of individual choices doesn't work for most people or proves to be simply unsustainable. Many of the most important public issues of the next few years - the health effects of obesity, increased congestion on the roads, and climate change - depend on whether individuals will change their own behaviour.'

If New Puritans want to spread their 'good' behaviour to the population at large then, it could be argued, they need a populist approach, which is where Jamie Oliver comes in. He might not be a fully fledged NP - what with the enormous bank balance and supermarket adverts - but his campaign to kick the junk out of school dinners has had a knock-on effect rivalled only by Morgan Spurlock's Supersize Me, which took McDonald's to task. When education secretary Ruth Kelly announced a nationwide ban on junk food in schools from next September, in canteens as well as vending machines, the Jamie Oliver effect was very much in evidence.

So, with a few grand gestures and some high-profile converts New Puritanism offers a powerful escape route from our impulsive, reward-driven lifestyles. It might just have the potential to stave off the horrors promised by an out-of-control consumerist culture in which, according to agrarian essayist Wendell Berry, 'The histories of all products will be lost. The degradation of products and places, producers and consumers is inevitable.'

Consider the New Puritan philosophy from this point of view and it can look like a blueprint for a rather noble kind of empowerment. Our New Puritans become less like neurotic killjoys and more like early adopters, with an enhanced ability to recognise the pitfalls of contemporary life. A battle is shaping up between the New Puritans and the old guard libertarians, but at the moment it's a vastly uneven one. The New Puritans might be a trend, but it's still a small one, swimming against a seemingly inexorable consumerist river.

But New Puritans shouldn't be deterred. As Oliver Cromwell, their ancestral spiritual leader, put it: 'A few honest men [and let's add in women for contemporary relevance] are better than numbers.'

Katie Harrison 26, Bristol

Dislikes smokers, junk food, fat people's excuses Likes hard work, organic food

While Generation X was busy firing up pointless dotcom businesses, the New Puritans were watching and learning. After university, and a stint travelling in India, Harrison became an ethical entrepreneur, setting up Frank Water, a not-for-profit natural spring water company.

Her business, like her life, is built on hard work, not bank loans. 'I feel very strongly that you should live within your means,' she says softly but forcibly - a combination she does rather well.

She now feels that it's not enough to try to educate people and that the only way forward is to regulate smoking and bad diets. 'There should be really skinny entrances to McDonald's. If you can't fit through the door that would be a pretty good indication that you shouldn't go in at all.' Conceding that this might be taking the tough love approach too far, she admits she'd settle for taxes 'on foods that have high percentages of sugar or fat, extra revenue which would then subsidise production, preferably local and organic, of healthier food'.

She doesn't have much truck with excuses either: 'I get quite annoyed when I see really obese people complaining that diets don't work. They always seem to blame their weight on something. But it's too much junk food, carbohydrate or whatever - and their lifestyle - that's causing them to be like that. It's time that we took responsibility for our own actions.'

Louise Doherty 19, Nottingham

Dislikes cars, pregnant smokers, ready meals, meat Likes exercise, staying-in, being responsible, being thin

Even Louise Doherty's mum thinks she should get out more: 'Last time I was home from university she said, "Why aren't you going out and having fun like most 19-year-olds? You're turning into an old woman."' But Louise remains committed to her mission to be more ethically aware, health- conscious and ultimately responsible, which means fewer nights at the pub.

Some of this can be attributed to Ben, her boyfriend, a 27-year-old fitness instructor. 'He's got very different views on how we should all live, and like me he appreciates that Western culture has a lot of problems,' explains Doherty. The influence runs both ways, however: soon after they met, she made Ben get rid of his gas-guzzling vintage Jag.

Doherty has always had strong views, especially about health and responsibility. And a couple of years ago, when a friend of a friend continued to smoke throughout her pregnancy, she felt compelled to intervene. 'I'd go to the health centre and get leaflets on quitting smoking, pointing out the danger she was inflicting on this child. I suppose I was confident that she would start to see it from the point of view of the baby, but she didn't want to know. She was being incredibly selfish.'

When it comes to her own health, she takes as few risks as possible. When her mum was diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of years ago (she has now recovered) they both went vegan - not easy to do when her flatmates at university exist on ready meals.

'I much prefer to cook from scratch,' she says. 'It tastes better, it's time well spent and it avoids chemically infused food. It's all about taking responsibility. If I look after myself, and my diet, then I won't get fat, I'll minimise the chances of getting ill and I won't be a financial strain on the NHS.'

Alasdair Sim 27, London

Dislikes alcohol, air travel, dogs, disposable coffee cups

Likes economising, cycling, selfsufficiency

It's difficult to imagine anyone less likely to enjoy a Club 18-30 holiday in Cyprus than Ali Sim, who is rarely seen without his sustainable coffee travel mug and whose preferred mode of transport is a push bike.

But nevertheless that's where he ended up a few years ago, when he let his mate book a cheap holiday. While it wasn't necessarily an epiphany, it did bring him face to face with the type of alcohol-fuelled rampage he detests. 'It was horrendous,' he says, with a hint of lingering trauma. 'We basically only went to the induction, before breaking away from the group. I'm not sure why people put themselves through that experience.'

At least it's unlikely to happen again, not least because these days he wouldn't even board the plane in the first place: 'I would never just get on a flight and go to Paris for the weekend - I don't care how cheap it is.'

And he has no qualms about explaining his no-flight arguments to friends and acquaintances either. 'I think they should think about their actions, too. I'm not sure I've converted anybody yet, but I'm going to keep on trying.'

Any lectures are no doubt mitigated by his gentle demeanour - he sounds like a less-hyper Ewan McGregor.

The son of a Glasgow lawyer, Sim is thankful for his privileged upbringing and remains close to his parents, although he thinks it's ridiculous that his mother owns five dogs - which waste resources.

He has never had any plans to follow a conventional lifestyle, particularly the part that sees many of his contemporaries 'spending all their money going out, getting bladdered. I aspire to be someone who produces my own food, not spending very much money on things and boozing it all. The simple life, I suppose. I'm thankful for the lifestyle my dad gave me growing up, but I don't want to emulate it.'

Miraculously, for someone living in central London, with a not very lucrative job - Sim works as a Green Space ranger - he actually manages to save money every month, proving what you can do when you opt not to keep up with the Joneses.

'I actually find the drive to have new stuff all the time quite unpalatable,' he says. 'The problem is that people are not asking enough questions; they just buy into the brand and assume everything's going to be all right - and it isn't.'

Are you a New Puritan?

Test your responsibility radar with these eight everyday choices

1 Choose the sequence of events which most closely resembles your typical Friday night:

a) You retire to bed early with a copy of New Consumer

b) You get quite merry after a few wines

c) You imbibe around a dozen Bacardi Breezers, vomit on a bouncer's shoe, pass out on the pavement and come round to the Trevor McDonald Tonight crew making a binge drinking special, of which you are now the star

2 You see a pregnant woman inhaling deeply on a cigarette. Do you:

a) Demand that she stubs out the cigarette immediately, before calling the police and insisting the woman is given an official caution

b) Explain to the woman that she is unfairly damaging the life of her unborn child and rush into the nearest health centre for leaflets on quitting

c) Ask if she has any snout

3 You are organising the office Christmas party. Do you:

a) Insist it should be alcohol-free, to prevent a repetition of the photocopying of private parts and illicit sex that blights this event every year

b) Promote shandy as the Christmas party drink of choice

c) Give the party a Toulouse-Lautrec theme and introduce a mandatory absinthe drink-off

4 You complain about the vending machine at your sports centre on the grounds that:

a) It's a disgrace that multinational junk food companies should have a platform in a sports centre in a region with above average statistics for childhood obesity

b) There should be a greater variety of products and some fizzy drinks should be swapped with water

c) You've lost £2.70 in the last fortnight because the lever that dispenses the Crunchie bars keeps getting stuck

5 You are walking in the park when a large, snarling dog runs straight for you. Do you:

a) Render the dog unconscious with a large piece of timber (you don't believe in guns) then inform the dog's owners that dogs use up resources needlessly, and they should have it put down

b) Take video footage of the dog, so that the owners can later be prosecuted under the Dangerous Dogs act

c) Let your pit bull off its leash to meet the challenge head on

6 How do you react on seeing the following ad: 'Fly to New York for £18 inc. taxes

a) You are incandescent with rage that there is no tax on aviation fuel and that people are not paying the true cost of climate change emissions

b) You know you shouldn't... but you'll take public transport to the airport as penance

c) Get a cab to the airport immediately, and take an empty suitcase. That way you can hit the stores on Fifth Avenue and take advantage of a strong pound

7 Your best friend has been piling on the pounds. You bump into her in the high street - she's coming out of a fast food restaurant. Do you:

a) Throw her food in a bin - saving the plastic container for recycling - then lecture her on how you don't want to pay for her future diabetes treatment

b) Persuade her to go back in and swap the burger for a new Ranch salad and water

c) Cheerfully say hello and ask if you can have a chicken wing

8 A close friend is getting into a lot of debt to keep her wardrobe stocked with designer labels. Do you:

a) Remind her, as George Bernard Shaw once said, that fashion is nothing but an induced epidemic

b) Encourage her to think more creatively about her wardrobe, and shop in more cost-effective outlets

c) Ask her if she's thought about pyramid selling and tell her you know a great scheme

Mostly As

Congratulations. You are a New Puritan par excellence, prepared to be not just socially conscious but socially critical, even if it brings you into conflict with friends, lovers and/or dog owners. You have heightened ethical sensibilities which allow you to see the folly of competitive individualism and the prevailing consumerist madness. Never let anyone tell you this is single issue agit-prop, for you will have the last laugh.

Mostly Bs

There is no doubt that you mean well and are flirting with the temperate outlook, but you are still too frightened of being thought of as extreme. In your heart of hearts you know that we eat too much refined sugar, possess too many appliances and watch too much bad TV, but you cannot bear to acknowledge the demise of libertarianism. However, you show promise; all you need is the courage of your convictions.

Mostly Cs

Oh dear. You seek out impulse-led, environmentally damaging, unsustainable pleasure with the boorish commitment of a pig sniffing out truffles. Delayed gratification is an anathema to you, and unless you get some self-discipline, you will find the future increasingly mystifying, as the rest of the human race wakes up to its responsibilities. Possibly, you're in need of a role model. Think Chris Martin rather than Wayne Rooney.