A few weeks ago,
wrote a fantastic piece about how plastic recycling is a scam. The gist— that less than 10 percent of plastic waste is recycled globally, and that plastic manufacturers have known since at least the 1960s that plastic recycling is mostly ineffective— is a dirty little industry secret that has become fairly public knowledge in the last several years. I would highly recommend taking a peek at the article, if for no other reason than the fantastic primary sources from oil industry executives (I am a historian, after all).But I sometimes see information like this feeding into the mindset that the whole world is on fire, so we might as well keep buying shoes (and plastic water bottles, and take-out coffee, and… you get the gist). But I don’t want to take the knowledge that plastic recycling has its problems (okay, lots and lots of problems) as a free pass not to recycle at all.
Single-use plastic is an enormous negative externality. A negative externality, in economics, is basically all the bad things that can happen based on a decision a person or corporation makes that they don’t have to pay for. So in 2005, when 1,000 people in Mumbai were killed because plastic bags had blocked the storm drains that would have allowed monsoon waters to drain from the city— that’s a negative externality. The 350 million tons of plastic waste that end up in landfills, incinerators, and oceans annually, leaking forever chemicals and microplastics into the environment (and our bodies)— that’s a negative externality.
The solution, of course, is a move away from plastics. While a best-case scenario for plastic is being recycled once or twice, materials like glass and aluminum are infinitely recyclable. We’ve also seen an explosion of compostable packaging, including compostable packaging that looks and functions exactly as plastic would. In our daily lives, there’s really no excuse for single-use plastics— except that a multi-billion dollar industry is invested in maintaining a churn of disposable products (The plastic industry in the United States alone is worth more than $500 billion) makes it hard to turn away.
The problem admittedly looks even worse when you take a global perspective. Oil and gas companies are still drawing virtually record profits, but they see the writing on the wall: to tackle climate change, the world will have to move away from fossil fuels. But we sometimes conveniently forget that plastics are, in fact, fossil fuels too. And the plastic industry is increasingly tapping into markets across Africa and Asia, where local infrastructure isn’t necessarily equipped to handle a deluge of plastic waste.
Of course, we know that in many places, municipal curbside recycling is likely to take your milk jugs and water bottles. But more flexible plastics— everything from plastic bags to food packaging— varies from city to city, and is likely to not be accepted at all.
Some companies are trying to step into this recycling void with innovative solutions to recycle these traditionally hard-to-recycle materials. Terracycle is by far the best known of these organizations and partners with other corporations to offer free recycling for everything from Hasbro toys to Cerebelly packaging. Of course, free doesn’t actually mean free for everyone— recycling products obviously costs money (and energy). In other words, the corporation sponsoring the waste stream is picking up the tab.
The programs that I can most easily support are the ones that recycle products that were never intended to be single-use: the kids’ clothing recycling programs, the Hasbro toys and Black & Decker small appliances type take-back programs. This is recycling done (more) right.
Every time a company creates a waste stream for a single-use product like coffee pods or chip bags, my reaction is a little more ambivalent. Of course, recycling is better than landfill, even if we accept that any plastic product won’t be infinitely recyclable. And for companies, the recycling program is powerful because it’s great marketing. “Look, we’re taking responsibility for our product packaging!” But of course, this recycling is actually downcycling (your recycled coffee pod doesn’t become a new coffee pod), and conveniently bypasses the larger issue that plastic is still eventually destined for landfill. And because it can be a hassle to collect different waste streams for every product you use, very few consumers will actually bother to mail in their recycling.
I have to say that I’m exactly the kind of consumer who bothers to mail in my junk. Not because I think that recycling mixed-material plastics is the solution, but because I (naively?) want to believe that mailing my plastic back is asking corporations to take responsibility for their own waste streams. Although of course, the memo would arguably be more effective if thousands of pounds of branded waste showed up on a CEO’s desk.
As I dug into the numbers, though, I realized that my idea that plastic recycling could be causing a "pain point” to encourage corporate change is— well, maybe a little optimistic. In 2022, Terracycle reported $16.678 million in sales from around 150 brand sponsored programs— meaning that a singular recycling program will cost a company somewhere in the vicinity of $100,000 annually. This is a significant sum to any normal Homo sapien, but a drop in the bucket to a company like Colgate that generates nearly $5 BILLION in revenue. A smaller company like Go Go squeeZ, the applesauce company, earns a slightly less absurd $98 million annually— but still, the cost of the recycling program is less than 0.1% of their annual revenue.
In other words, these recycling programs aren’t really a pain point, just really great corporate marketing with the added benefit of recycled plastic pellets at the end.
But don’t throw your hands up just yet.
Participating in these recycling programs lets corporations know that the end-of-life for their products and packages matters to you. And for products you were going to use anyway, where shifting to a low-waste option isn’t practical or possible for your current situation, recycling— even in a deeply imperfect recycling system— is better than nothing.
Of course, anytime I can reasonably make a switch away from plastic packaging I do. And beyond recycling, there are plenty of other steps you can take.
Buy products made from recycled materials.
I still wouldn’t recommend this solution for things you will wash frequently, like clothing, because washing any plastic material (think: polyester, nylon, acrylic, spandex) will release micro-plastics into the waterway. But if it’s something that would have been made from plastic anyway— look for recycled plastic. (For example: Esembly Baby wet/ dry bags, made from recycled bottles, or Green Toys, made from recycled milk jugs, for outdoor play). And, some studies are showing that unregulated products (those not voluntarily tested for safety, like my recommendations above) have higher levels of toxins in recycled plastics because of the chemicals added in the reformulation of the plastic. In these cases, buying secondhand is the best bet to reduce the production of plastic altogether.
Reach out to companies to talk about their products and end-of-life for packaging.
Dropping a quick note to customer service can be a great way to let companies know what’s important to you as a consumer. It helps to identify something positive the company is doing— and encourage them to take a step further. For example, you can ask a company that is “plastic neutral” (meaning they remove as much plastic from the environment as they produce) to remove plastic from their supply chain altogether.
Put pressure on regulatory agencies.
One of the things I generally look for when purchasing products is the presence of certifications— third party tests to ensure safety or labor standards. This is a particular concern for plastics, which can contain everything from flame retardants to PFAS (known as ‘forever chemicals’), bisphenol A (BPA), and phthalates. These chemicals leach into the environment and contaminate food supplies, impacting everything from sperm count to our risk of cancer.
But there are almost no existing certifications for plastic safety. The label "BPA-Free” is virtually meaningless, because manufacturers most often substitute BPA’s cousin, BPS. For textiles, the OEKO-TEX certification will help regulate phthalates, and I always look for furniture (and children’s pajamas!) without added flame retardants.
But for everything else? It’s the Wild West. If you’re located in the United States, you can start by asking the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to re-consider limiting phthalates in food packaging. (If you’re looking for a one-click way to suggest this, Consumer Reports has an online petition).
Buy low-waste and package free products, where possible.
I have a resource round-up upcoming on this, but there are plastic-free swaps for plenty of household goods, from Who Gives a Crap toilet paper to Ethique shampoo bars. There are also dedicated online storefronts for low-waste and low-packaging products, from Package Free Shop to Zero Waste Store and Earth Hero. Ironically, it can be harder to find food package and plastic free (though you might have luck at a local co-op or farmer’s market, as well as online grocers like Imperfect Foods). But for household items, once you make a low-waste swap, it’s easy to keep the momentum going.
And, of course, buy plastic free.
There are some categories of items, like medical supplies, where this may not be possible. But toys can easily be made of wood, cotton, or silicone instead of plastic. There’s no need for a plastic fly-swatter if you can get one made from bamboo. Substitute natural materials (cotton, hemp, wool) for plastic-based fabrics like polyester or acrylic. And don’t hesitate to let companies you’ve moved away from know why you made the switch.