The Plastic Diaries

Voyage of a Lifetime

2011-11-27T17:08:00.006Z

It's nice to know the boy still thinks of me. The following is a direct copy of a book review which Bron saved for me from The New Scientist. The book in question is Plastic Ocean: How a sea captain's chance discovery launched a determined quest to save the oceans, and recounts Captain Charles Moore's experiences of sailing the high plastic seas.

NB. The review was published on page 55 of the New Scientist on 29 October 2011. It is written by Bob Holmes.

Dangerous debris

When Charles Moore sailed his 50-foot catamaran Alguita through one of the remotest, least-visuted parts of the Pacific Ocean in 1997, he was appalled to find plastic flotsam everywhere.

This discovery of what has come to be called the Great Pacific Garbage Patch - a vast area of the central Pacific where debris accumulates because of ocean current patterns - set Moore off on a crusade to measure, identify and, ultimately, try to prevent plastic pollution of the ocean. A decade and a half later, Moore's obsession has led to several scientific papers, documentary films, numerous media appearances, and now a book.

"I wasn't the first to be disturbed about plastic trash in the ocean, and I wasn't the first to study it," he writes in Plastic Ocean. "But maybe I was the first to freak out about it."

And freak out he certainly did. Chapter by chapter, Moore recounts his growing alarm as he learns about the abundance of plastic debris in the ocean and the ways it can get there. He also documents the clear harm that seabirds and marine mammals suffer when they become tangled in abandoned fishing nets or swallow balloons or plastic bags. And he makes a tentative case that even the smallest shards of plastic - the size and shape of plankton, and thus likely to be a eaten by fish and other planktivores - may carry a payload of toxic chemicals into the food chain.

In the end, though, many readers - especially New Scientist readers - are likely to find Moore unpersuasive. Partly that's because his book is a bit of a mess, rambling and disorganised. But the biggest problem is that Plastic Ocean comes across as a bit of a rant.

By his own account, Moore decided that plastic flotsam is a Very Bad Thing long before he gathered any solid evidence of any harm to sea life. And he is prone to making leaps: just because toxins can be detected in plastics does not mean that they are present in biologically meaningful doses. Moore my very well be right in thinking they are, but readers who are looking for a dispassionate conclusion based on the facts won't find it here.

The Other View
Truth be told, I had only read half of this review before I began copying it. So, when I got to the penultimate paragraph I started to have doubts as to whether I should post it or not. But, leap taker or not, Moore's book is surely going to be an interesting read. A shame that, as suggested by Holmes, it may not create many new converts to the plastic cause, but even if it creates one then that is one more person fighting in what I consider to be the right corner.

Two other books on the plastic problem have also been published this year, if anyone wishes to add them to their Christmas list. Firstly, Plastic: A Toxic Love Story by Susan Freinkel was published earlier this year - a copy is currently sitting on my bookshop waiting patiently to be read. Or for what looks like a lighter read there is David de Rothschild's Plastiki: Across the Pacific on plastic: An adventure to save our oceans. I'm eager to get a closer look at this as I love the website based on the Plastiki's expeditions.

The Parent Trap

2011-11-27T16:16:00.005Z

How does a girl persuade her mum to stop trying to make her throw stuff away?

Since moving out of my shared house with Bron, I've been having a bit of purge. While this is a good thing (I hope) for the charity shops, and for me, it's been an equally bad thing for the state of landfill. The amazing Mrs. Green over on the My Zero Waste blog would surely have a heart attack if she saw the things I've been recklessly throwing "away" of late. For the most part I'm talking small things, out of date medicines I found in the back of the cupboard, an ancient video tape or two, stuff like that, and stuff that I can't even remember now that I sit here trying to remember.

The worst stuff, though, the worst stuff are those things that you need when you have a house of your own, but when you move into another household, as Bron and I have both just done, he to share with a bachelor friend and myself to the alma mater. This is the stuff that neither of you wants right now, but are left with the question: what to do with it in the meantime? Stuff like two plastic waste bins, one from the kitchen, one from the bathroom. Two old tires that came off my car that I'd saved because I had this cunning idea that they could be used as garden planters. A microwave that's going rusty on the inside; ditto with a toaster. A bag full of plastic bags that - even when you don't accept plastic bags from shops - somehow worm their way into your home.

Mix this with:
(a) a set of parents who have unconsciously embraced the modern lifestyle of 'out with the old and in with the new', and
(b) a girl who really doesn't want to deal with the reality of dismantling her home,
...and you get a big trip to the local dump.

I watched those two perfectly good dustbins ("a charity shop doesn't want stuff like like that" and, "I'll buy you a new one", instructed my mum) go sailing over the rails and into the skip - there to sit for all eternity alongside all the other household items the local Cornish folk had gotten bored of this week. It felt so horribly wrong. But (yes, here it is, that 'but') they needed to be out of the house that day, there was/is no space left in my storage rental, and no more space at the parental home for them either. Although it felt wrong, I also felt like I had no other option at that particular moment in time. A word to the wise: never try to clear house from 40 miles away; this is what happens. And where was Bron? Well he, of course, had moved out all the stuff he wanted and left me, in typical Bron-stylee, to deal with the rest of it.

But back to my opening question. Despite the episode with the bins, I managed to save the draining racks from the kitchen sink. Or so I thought...

"I just can't get this clean," my mum tells me while I'm drinking my morning cup of tea. She's trying to clean off the natural accumulation of gunk that any draining rack gets after several years of use (honestly, I have cleaned it since I bought it, just clearly not to my mother's standards).

"That's ok," I said, "You don't have to clean it."

"But its unhygienic. It'll grow bacteria if you put it away like this."

"It's fine, it'll be fine."

"Let's just get rid of it. I'll buy you a new one." Ah, bless her. She absolutely means well. And yes, a new one would be nice. But that's not the point: there's nothing wrong with the old one. It's perfectly usable. And there really isn't that much gunk.

The final word? In this instance, mine. "It hasn't given me food poisoning yet," I commented. To which she, reluctantly, conceded.

The irony in all this is the fact that both of my parents grew up in a time when 'make do and mend' was the daily mantra. My mum comes from a low income background where nothing was wasted. In many ways she's still very much a proponent of this attitude, but - as far as I can tell - only so far as hygiene is not involved. Bacteria be damned if my mum is in the room.

Plastic Living

2011-11-15T19:02:00.003Z

People keep asking me: “How’s the writing going?”

To which my brain responds: Sorry, err, what writing?

After all, how can I write about trying to live without plastic when I haven’t been trying particularly hard to do the actual living without plastic part?

“Shock! Horror!”

Or so readers may say. “You’ve stopped watching your plastic intake? How could you?”

I haven’t actually stopped watching my plastic intake so much as watched it increase instead of decrease. I could say that I don’t know how it happened, but the truth is I do know. And there are two main reasons - whether they are good reasons or not, I don’t know, but they are my reasons.

1. I’m lazy and I like yummy things to eat. Most of the plastic in my life comes from food - takeaway sandwiches, yogurt, ice cream. Things that I gave up a couple of years ago have crept back into my diet (and, unfortunately, onto my waistline). And when I’m on my lunch break and I’m hungry and I have half an hour to consume enough food to get me through the rest of the day, popping to M&S for a salad or sandwich is quick and easy.

2. Boyfriends are difficult. When I first started my plastic kick, Bron was completely supportive. But, whether he intended it or not, there are, unfortunately, limits to his support. Mostly in the form of whether or not a change I want to make impacts on him and his lifestyle, his habits. And when you live with someone, there is only so far you can go before everything you do impacts on the other person.

Catch 22.
When someone is resistant to change, do you:
(a) try to force the change you want on that person and risk making them either unhappy or resent you for forcing them into something they don’t want? Or,
(b) try to appease them, to maintain the status quo. The risk here being that you wind up resenting them from preventing you from being the person you want to be.

Thus, after two years of studying for my MA and a year plus of that trying to significantly reduce the amount of plastic coming into our house, I was well aware that Bron was reaching the limits of what he deemed acceptable change. Solution: give it a break, have a treat or two, and stop trying to change his plastic habits. I - perhaps rather blindly - hoped that this would go some way to solving the little cracks I worried were forming under the surface of our relationship. Of course, the problem with relaxing a bit on the plastic front is that ‘a bit’ leads to a bit more, and then a little bit more again. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the plastic floodgates had opened, rather that they developed a bit of a leak. So how could I continue to write a blog about reducing plastic?

Unpredicatability
And now? Well, now everything is different. Those relationship cracks I mentioned? The act of not talking about plastic every day doesn’t actually act like polyfiller, no matter how much you wish it could. Especially when each crack needs a different type of polyfiller. And so, after five plus years of living with Bron, I now find myself back at my parents’ house.

You never can tell where life will take you. And the irony? If I thought Bron was hard to ‘train’ in the art of not buying plastic, my parents (as much as I love them, and as much as they are totally spoiling me right now) are a whole different level...

Welcome to 'A Life Less Plastic', stage 2.

Moomin Glory

2011-10-09T17:24:00.005+01:00

My heart goes out to anyone who has never heard of the Moomins. No Moomin story at bedtime is a childhood (and adulthood) only half lived. The day that Tove Jansson created Moomin, Moominpapa and Moominmama is one that should go down in the history books.

So imagine my joy on the discovery of these:

Moomin dishcloths! But not only Moomin dishcloths: they are plastic free Moomin dishcloths, made from cellulose material that can be washed and reused, and – when they can’t be washed any longer – can put in the compost bin. Genius! I am so going to buying some of these. My anti-plastic lifestyle just got a whole lot more stylish!

(Find Moomin at Waterstones)

Like Minded People

2011-05-22T18:22:00.011+01:00

Isn't it lovely to meet people who are thinking about the same things as you are? Despite the prevalence of 'green' today, it's actually been a while since I really met anyone I could have a proper discussion with about the environment. I love my family and friends, absolutely, but 95% of them are hardened consumers. So: thank you Cape Farewell and Shortcourse/UK for introducing me to like-minded thinkers.

When I was invited to apply for Shortcourse/UK (see post below), I really wasn't sure what to expect. The launch evening, held at Newlyn Gallery, and with presentations by Sion Parkinson, Daro Montag and Nick Edwards, was intersting, but - to my mind - decidedly 'arty'. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for arty stuff, I just find a lot of it to be beyond my understanding (or out of my zone of thinking, I guess), which means that I find it difficult to appreciate. But Shortcourse/UK sounded like such an interesting and unusual opportunity, I thought I'd apply for it anyway - and boy am I glad I did.

The truth of the matter is that firstly, despite being a writer (or attempting to be one, anyway), I've never thought of myself as an artist; and secondly, I found it hard to see how artists could really make a difference to environmental issues. I enjoyed the first two expeditions with Shortcourse/UK, but coming home each evening I wasn't really sure if I'd learnt anything or gained anything. This weekend, however, was the third and final expedition, a two day trip to the Isles of Scilly, and it rather feels as if everything has now clicked into place.

The beauty of Cape Farewell is that it brings together scientists and artists, enabling the cross pollination of thoughts. It changes artists' thinking by more concisely introducing the science behing environmental concerns, and it changes scientists' thinking by introducing the art and the beauty and - essentially - the naturalness of the environments around us. I think that without my even really being aware of it, being surrounded by artists for the last two days has got me thinking in a distinctly more 'arty' way. And where two months ago I would have been somewhat sceptical about this, today I feel really excited about it and I'm really, really hoping I can hold onto this feeling.

So what was so special about the Isles of Scilly expedition? Other than the Scillies being a pretty special place, it was immersion in the truest sense - immersion in the group of people I travelled with, immersion in the thinking and ideals of this group and its leaders, Sion and Daro, and immersion in the natural environment. After sleeping under canvas, right next to the sea, in a place with no light pollution, who wouldn't be thinking differently?

And as far as art and the environment goes, one of the best parts of the experience was listening to the presentations that the other students gave on their work, and discovering not only how art does communicate, but also how we're all like minded people. From Bryony, who is mid-way though a year rejecting consumerism, to Sonia's obsession with the sea, whales and plastic pollution, to Tom's research into the history of a field, generating some truly beautiful nature writing; Rob's investigation of ocean acidity, and Saffron, who is creating her own food range that highlights the absurdity of modern society's food attitudes. Each of them (and everyones else inthe group too) demonstrates that art and science do not have to be exclusive subjects. And I'm really looking forward to working with them more.

A bit of plastic here and there, but I couldn't find any nurdles (a good thing!). I imagine that the Islanders keepa close hold on the quality of their beaches. Interestingly, it seemed as if there was more glass than plastic around the beaches, though what that means, if anything, I don't know.

Clay Country Plastic

2011-05-08T19:38:00.006+01:00

I am very excited to have been given a place on a series of expeditions being organised by Cape Farewel l. Called 'Shortcourse/UK' and run in conjunction with University College Falmouth and The Eden Project, it's described as "an initiative that looks to question and reform society’s notions of what art education can be". The general idea is to combine environmental and ecological thinking with art - thus using art and creative thinking to communicate ideas and issues about the environment and climate change.

I am by no means a photographer and only possess a standard digital camera, nothing fancy, but I thought I'd share some of the photos that I took on the first expedition on Friday. After starting at The Eden Project with an early morning sweat lodge ceremony, we then spent the rest of the day following the trails around the site in 'clay country' and thinking about the ecology of the landscape around us.

I spent most of the day thinking about the tug of war between man and nature, but the other thing that kept jumping out at me was the plastic rubbish. Now, as a tourist trail, I suppose this is inevitable, but none-the-less it served to remind me again of the plastic impact.

Make Do & Mend versus Consumerism

2011-04-17T19:53:00.003+01:00

Needle and Thread
“If you get me a needle and thread I can fix it right now for you,” I say to my friend K.

We’re in her son’s bedroom, crouched over his cot mattress. The zip is broken, and the best idea Bron had for fixing the problem involved cutting a hole. Only a little hole, but a hole nonetheless.

K gives me a slightly blank look. Or is it a bemused one? “I don’t have a needle and thread,” she says.

Now it’s my turn for the blank look. “You don’t have needle and thread?” I respond, dumbly. I know K’s not one for recreational sewing, but: “How can you not have a needle and thread?”

“I don’t sew!” she says, “so why would I?”

“But what do you do if you need to mend something?”

“I don’t,” she says. “I throw it away.”

Okay, like I said, I know K’s not one for recreational sewing - a stark contrast to me, who has a whole linen chest full to overflowing with sewing stuff. But, a week after our exchange, I’m still dumbfounded. To not even have one of those teeny tiny sewing kits you get inside a Christmas cracker just sounds insane to me. Maybe she wouldn’t know how to fix a hole, but what if she has a button that needs sewing back on?

On Make-Do-and-Mend
Tidying out my sewing chest this afternoon, thinking about this, I realise that she simply must not have been brought up in the ‘make do and mend’ mind frame. I wasn’t particularly – at least, not compared to my mum’s post-war generation - but my mum always had a pile of mending waiting for her on the kitchen table, so I guess it's something I've always been aware of. If K's parents didn't think this way, then she wouldn't do either. Yeah, I definately can't picture her mum with a needle and thread. And her dad? Well, if there was such a thing as the Cornish mafia, I pretty sure he'd be part of it, and a needle and thread doesn't really sit with that either.

But mending is something I’ve started doing more of recently. Bad economy and all that. In the last three weeks I’ve patched holes in two pairs of jeans (one in the crotch, one in the knee), replaced a missing button on a favourite shirt, and fixed holes in three different t-shirts. Most of my favourite people at work are knitters or sew-ers and I’ve even witnessed my highly fashion-conscious friend S fixing holes in her clothes.

Start a new trend
So, how did the ability to use a needle and thread, or the need to keep one in the house, fall out of fashion? One word is all the answer I need: consumerism.

Why mend something when you can just replace it? Throw it away, get a new one! But: hello piles of rubbish, hello cheap goods that fall apart after six months of use, hello homes with no needle and thread. I couldn’t live without having a needle and thread in the house, not just for fixing things, but for my own pleasure too (no, not like that… for making patchwork quilts, silly!). I say: bring back make-do-and-mend! It should be the next big fashion craze. Make the most of your stuff before you chuck it and that means: spending less of your hard-earned money, plus less stuff going to the rubbish dump.

A Life Less Plastic

2011-03-27T17:34:00.003+01:00

Reading the email from my tutor made my heart sink and my frustration levels rise.

January 2011 and the deadline for the final submission for my MA is looming. The email tells me I have to hand in two hard copies of my final project, properly bound.

So what's the problem? Over the last two years I've gotten away with handing my coursework in simply tied together with interesting pieces of ribbon, but something tells me that's just not going to cut it this time around. Properly bound is all well and good, but it usually means a plastic binding comb to keep all the pages together, coupled with acetate covers. Which seems rather hypocritical given that my final project is all about quitting plastic.

There are always ways around these little problems though (well, nearly always; I still haven't solved half the problems I've got when it comes to plastic food packaging, but hey, that's a different story). A quick email to KallKwik revealed that they can bind manuscripts using a metal comb if I want, rather than a plastic one. For a few extra pennies, of course.

Well, I thought, that's a start. So when I finally got all my pages together I toddled down there - and then convinced them to not use the acetate covers. Instead, the very helpful lady photocopied my title page onto a piece of card to act as the front cover instead of using the ubiquitous plastic. Although I think she thought I was a little odd. Why wouldn't I want a nice shiney acetate cover?

And now I've finally gotten around to updating my website, where you can read the introduction to my project, A Life Less Plastic. Next stage in my grand plan to conquer the world: win over an agent and start writing chapter six.

Fictional Plastics

2011-03-04T19:18:00.005Z

In honour of Saturday's World Book Night, I thought I’d write a post about books. Alright, I admit it, I’ll jump at any excuse to talk about books. The challenge is to link books to plastic…

So I’ve just been reading The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi. It’s set in a future dystopian world which is essentially controlled by – surprise, surprise – American multinational corporations. At some point there was worldwide economic collapse and it seems that, in an attempt to regain control, two or three companies created a set of plagues that wiped out virtually all plant life around the world. Then, these companies kindly stepped into the breach with their genetically-engineered plague-resistant plants, saving the starving nations – at a price, of course.

At its heart, The Windup Girl is about politics and corruption, about what is right and wrong, and the grey areas in between. But it’s also very much about the environment and how humans manipulate and destroy it for their own needs. It has many lessons to teach. And the plastic? Well, this is a world where oil no long reins. No oil, no plastic. Well, except for cellulose-based plastic.

In short, The Windup Girl is environmental fiction at its best. Look for it in the Science fiction section of your local bookstore. Oh yes, on a book-geek note: the science fiction section? Why are some environmental fiction titles pegged into this genre when they are of equal literary value as those more commonly classified as fiction? I’m thinking J. G. Ballard (The Drowned World), Margaret Atwood (Oryx and Crake), Ian McEwan (Solar). Paolo Bacigalupi deserves to be considered with this stock too.

Anyway, pop out to your local Waterstone’s tomorrow night and you should find it open. And if you’re really lucky there’ll be someone there giving out free books. Unfortunately not Paolo Bacigalupi, though. Maybe next year?

The Gift Cards that Don't Keep Giving...

2011-02-27T17:43:00.011Z

I’m trying to remember the last time I bought or was given a paper gift voucher. Other than the £3 voucher I had courtesy of my Marks & Spencer credit card a few days ago, I honestly can’t remember. We get the odd Bonus Bond or High Street Voucher come through the tills at work, but these are, I feel, rather the exception today. National Book Tokens went electronic a year ago, and even the High Street Voucher company is producing a gift card version of the ‘old style’ paper voucher. I don’t have anything against electronic gift cards, per se, except for the obvious: They’re all plastic. It brings whole new meaning to the term paying by plastic.

The experiment
I’ve been running the cash office at work over the last ten days or so. A recent new rule introduced by our beloved auditor is that, instead of chucking them straight into the bin, any empty gift cards we’re left with at the tills go into the drawer to be destroyed in the cash office. The consequence? Suddenly there’s a clear trail highlighting the number of gift cards moving through the store.

Day one. I begin my cash office reign by cutting up each gift card as I lay hands on it. It seems like the quickest solution. Done and dusted.

Day two. Ditto.

Day three. I’m starting to wonder about the number of gift cards going through my fingers. There’s a little carpet of them forming in the bin at my feet. We’re quite a big store, spread over two floors, with eight tills. I guess four or five cards come out of each till, sometimes more, sometimes less.

Day four. It’s Monday and I’m cashing up the takings from Saturday 19th. Saturdays are always busier and there’s quite a handful of gift cards in the first till drawer, so out of pure laziness I decide to chuck them in a handy box that’s been left on the desk and then cut them all up in one go at the end. I cash up Sunday’s takings as well, adding more cards to the box. It’s quite full. Plastic that has no purpose other than to be used up and chucked in the bin. Immediately I start to wonder how many cards I could collect over a week.

Final tally
Number of cards collected over a seven day period (Saturday 19th February to Friday 25th): 317
Total weight of plastic collected: 1kg 529g (or 3lb 6oz)
Average number of cards per day: 45
Average number of cards per till: 39

Of course, the week in question covers half term, so it could be said that as a result, more cards might have been collected this week than on a week during term time.

The Gift Card Policy
Why electronic gift cards? Why have businesses changed from paper to plastic? There are lots of financial benefits to a company for producing gift vouchers, whether paper or plastic. When it comes to plastic, though, I think it’s generally favoured because:

. Money has to be ‘uploaded’ onto them. Before this is done, they essentially have no value, which means that if a box goes lost in the post, no money is lost.

. Retailers don’t have to issue change on them. With a £10 paper voucher, if a customer spends £9.99 the retailer is expected to give 1p change. With the gift card, that 1p remains on the card for the consumer to use again. But how often does this happen? Most of the people I serve say it’s not worth them holding onto the card for just a penny – ‘go ahead and destroy it’ they tell me, probably not realising that means the company gets to add that penny to it’s coffers. 1p may not make much difference on its own, but add up all those pennies and that’s a nice little bit of extra profit for the company.

. As every gift card has its own unique identification number, the cards are trackable.

. They are re-usable. Consumers can top them up and pass them on to friends and family as many times as they want, in comparison to paper vouchers which can only be used once. But how often do they get passed on? I have no official statistics to back me up, but considering the number of cards I’ve had to put in the waste this week alone, I’m confident in saying very few people. Actually, in the same seven days that I collected my cards, my store sold 140 new gift cards and only 9 top-ups. So, this week at least, just 6% of gift cards sold are being re-used. That means we’re sending 94% to the rubbish dump.

The Gift Card Legacy
Electronic gift cards represent another form of what I often think of as ‘hidden’ plastic. They’re so common today that little thought goes into their everyday usage. Customers who rail about plastic bags don’t give a thought to asking me to chuck their gift card in the bin. The company I work for, Waterstone’s Booksellers, say they can’t recycle them because – if I remember correctly (please do correct me if I’m wrong) - the magnetic strips contain confidential information, though I’m far from clear on the why’s and how’s of what exactly this confidential information is. Plus it’s ok for me to just cut them up and throw them in the bin? I know I’m not the only who’s thinking about the problem because at meetings I’ve been to, the question of recycling has been asked by others. So how can we change attitudes?

Recycling gift cards IS an option, despite other’s claims (read this article!). But: I remain adamant that, ultimately, recycling is not a solution to the plastic problem, only a stop-gap. The only real solution is stop using plastic altogether.

Which leaves me with two thoughts:
1. Don't buy electronic gift cards anymore!
2. For those companies who choose not to recycle the gift cards they recieve back, what else can be done with them?

"Stick 'em together to make bricks," Bron says. "And then build a house!"

NB. Covering My Ass
Please note that this blog posting is not a criticism of the company I work for, which has an excellent environmental policy. Rather, it is designed to highlight the high volume waste problem that electronic gift cards represent, and is a call for the retail industry as a whole to reconsider their practices. Please also note that following their collection, I destroyed each and every one of the gift cards by cutting them in half and putting them in the bin, as company policy requires. And yes, my hand hurts.

Thanks M&S

2011-02-25T16:48:00.002Z

This is what dreams are made of. Hot Chocolate Fudge Pudding. Mmmm.

Thank you Marks & Spencer for:
1. Sending me £3 worth of vouchers for me to go and treat myself.
2. Making Hot Chocolate Fudge Pudding in the first place.
3. Packaging it so nicely and packaging it so simply. Cardboard box and a foil tray.

It can be done! Look, Marks & Spencer have done it. Packaging with no plastic. And the food survived! I would say it’s like some kind of miracle, except for the part where it’s not. If there’s a miracle involved here at all, it’s only in the fact that plastic-free packaging for a rich and sticky pudding has been attempted. I applaud you, M&S. But maybe now you could try applying this basic principle to the rest of your range? The hot chocolate fudge pudding was, unfortunately, the only plastic-free pudding I could find anywhere in your store…

More please.

On Absences

2011-01-16T13:47:00.001Z

Reasons for the recent complete lack of blogging…

1. I am a Christmas humbug. Actually, that’s not true, I love Christmas, but I hate what retail and working in retail does to Christmas. It’s blimmin’ hard work, it makes me grumpy, and it’s hard to think about much outside of it.

2. In order to try and hold true to my earlier resolve to achieve a less plastic Christmas this year, most of my December evenings and days off were dedicated to hand-making a selection of Christmas gifts.

3. One poorly sick cat who, after falling off the sofa one evening in the middle of December because she couldn’t breathe, spent a week at the kitten hospital being prodded and poked to try and find out what was wrong with her. And as Bron and I have no human children, the Dora-cat is our baby, so we were a bit upset.

4. The problem with working full time whilst studying for an MA, trying to change your lifestyle, and trying to write a book about it, is that when you stop for what is ostensibly going to be just a couple of weeks, it’s really hard to get started again. And once you let one little bit of plastic in because you’re tired and stressed and upset about your cat, a lot more tends to follow, so I’ve been feeling a bit shameful about my efforts (or lack thereof) of late.

But… with my MA deadline looming (less than two weeks to submit the first six chapters of my book – aaarrghhh!) I am back in the saddle and ready to go. So watch this space, and I’ll try to be a bit prompter and more reliable in the coming weeks.

P.S. Praise be to pet insurance. It is sooo worth it.

Plastic Cars

2010-11-27T12:01:00.004Z

"They're only plastic," the nice garage man said to me this morning.

Plastic? They can't be made of plastic! The part he's referring to is a crucial piece of my car. So crucial that in order for me to get home from work last night I was too terrified to drive any faster than 20 mph because if I had to brake hard, or accidentally hit an unruly pot-hole, my wheel could fall off. Which would be bad. Plastic? It's no wonder they broke!

The part in question is a 'lower suspension arm rear bush'. "Your car is poorly sick," I was told yesterday. "Very, very sick." And, "I've never seen one this bad," the mechanic said this morning. Yikes. Lucky I decided to get new tyres fitted for the winter or I probably wouldn't have known there was a problem until I found myself in a ditch.

My 'bushings' are made of polyurethane, which is supposed to be more durable and hard wearing than rubber. Perhaps the advent of plastic has meant that mechanics such as this can be produced easier and cheaper and be - theoretically, at least - longer lasting. But I still can't help thinking to make such a crucial part out of a brittle material like plastic is a bit scary.

Cars... Can't live 'em, can't live without 'em. Ok, technically I can live without a car, but not without completely changing my lifestyle, my work, my friends, my living and shopping arrangements. Which I would love to do... but is easier said than done. And of course there is a lot more plastic in my car than just the inner workings of the suspension system. But I'm just not ready to give it up yet.

Bags of Disappointment

2010-11-12T17:47:00.003Z

The following 'clipping' is from the UK newspaper, The Times, yesterday (11th November), written by Ben Webster (environment editor):

Supermarkets have abandoned their commitment to halve the number of plastic bags they issue after a backlash from some shoppers.

Retailers are instead proposing merely to continue measuring the number of bags they give away and to reduve it over time, without setting any targets.

Shoppers used more than six billion single-use bags last year, an average of 100 for every member of the population. The bags take up to 1,000 years to decompose and millions litter parks and pollute rivers.

Seven of the biggest supermarket chains, Tesco, Sainsbury, Asda, the Co-operative Group, Marks & Spencer and Waitrose, clsimed last year that they had "narrowly missed" their voluntary target to reduce the number of bags by 50 per cent between 2006 and spring last year.

Over the financial year, from April 2009 to March this year, bag use fell by 43 per cent compared with 2006. But there are signs that usage is rising, with 23 million more bags handed out in May than during the same month last year, a 5 per cent increase.

Bob Gordon, head of environment at the British Retail Consortium, said: "The 50 per cent target is history. We are seeking contiunul improvement, with no specific target."

Some supermarkets had dropped their commitment to remove single-use bags from view at checkouts, he said. "It was too much of a flashpoint at the till and customers were causing too much of a scene about it."

My thoughts
It's a pretty sad state of affairs, really. I can understand that a small percentage of customers might rant about the removal of bags from view, but has it really caused huge scenes in the supermarket? The number of complaints can't surely be more than one in ten customers, if that (i.e. 10 per cent).

The progress that has been made since the initial pledge by retailers may not be as great as I would like, but it is progress none-the-less, and it's terrible to throw that away. Does it mean that customers have stopped thinking about plastic bags? Was it just a fad? I'm genuinely surprised, especially since WHSmiths started charging for bag usage.

I feel some letter writing coming on. In one of the letters I recieved from Defra (Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs), regarding the voluntary commitment made, David Hands says: "As this is a voluntary agreement it is up to each company to decide on their own strategy for the aims to be achieved. Whilst this is a voluntary agreement, the Government has reserved the right to take steps if the terms of the agreement are not met, though this will be subject to the Review."

So, are the goverment going to take steps seeing as the terms of the agreement have not been met - and seeing as the agreement has now been abandoned?

Use Less Plastic

2010-11-07T12:46:00.000Z

Use Less Plastic from TakePart on Vimeo.

A Christmas Resolution

2010-11-07T11:37:00.002Z

How did it get to be November? Christmas is just around the corner again. I try not to think about it too early, but it’s hard when we’ve been planning the Christmas retail season at work since August. And now most shops on the high street are launching their Christmas campaigns, mine included, so it’s getting hard to ignore.

Chicken
So, I’ve been thinking about Christmas. And I’ve been thinking about how worthless my Christmas was last year, how I essentially chickened out on my plastic challenge, and attached a whole raft of excuses as to why it worked out the way it did. And watching bits of yesterday’s TEDx Great Pacific Garbage Patch event has put me to shame. There’s no doubt in my mind that I use less plastic than I used to, but the truth of the matter is that I do still use quite a lot. That coffee that my manager treated me to the other day, the DVD I was craving, the pre-packaged sandwich I bought because I was too tired and hungry to be bothered with finding an alternative. I pledged to cut plastic from my lifestyle, but I fail continuously. I am a chicken.

Vote with your wallet
The speakers at the TEDx event were passionate and dedicated, and this has changed their lives. It’s truly inspiring, and it makes me want to be better, to be more serious. It is feasible cut out plastic; they do it every day. They “vote with their dollars,” as Andy Keller put it. And so, this Christmas I am determined to vote with my dollars – or, rather, my British pounds.

Hence my Christmas resolution: to buy gifts with no plastic. That’s no plastic packaging and not made of plastic. No DVDs or Xbox games, no calendars with their shrink-wrap. But what I really want to do is extend this resolution to my family and friends: any of you who happen to be reading this blog, can you avoid plastic in your purchases too? Or, at least, in any purchases you may choose to make for me?

Plastic Symposium Today!

2010-11-06T13:33:00.002Z

America's TEDx today hosts a day-long plastic extravaganza, including speakers such as Captain Moore, Fabian Cousteau, David De Rothschild, and Fake Plastic Fish's Beth Terry. I really wish I could be there. Luckily, though, it's going to streamed live through the TED website.

Watch the event or take a look at the day's agenda. For UK folks it runs from 3.30pm to 1.00 am (that's 8.30am to 6.00pm Pacific time).

Do I sacrifice the coursework that I'm supposed to be doing today to watch this? I really want to hear everything these people have to say, but I think I might have to cherry pick, as I'm not too keen on sitting in front of the computer until 1.00 am! Fingers crossed that the what I don't get to see today will still be there for me to watch another day.

Bron, meet Werner

2010-11-01T18:43:00.004Z

Bron is a huge fan of weird German director Werner Herzog. He will watch anything and everything made by, involving, or about Herr Herzog.

But is this inspired short about the life of a plastic bag, voiced by Werner (directed by Ramin Bahrani) enough to inspire him?

Tragically, no. Whenever I suggest he stops using bottled shaving foam, shampoo, deodorant, or shower gel, he immediately turns into Mr. Negative. The transition is so fluid and immediate, it's kind of fascinating to witness. Well, it would be if it wasn't so darn frustrating. I've been using alternatives for over a year now, and I'm still here aren't I? Why is he so closed off to the idea of change?

I've tried the tack of, "Just try it to see, and if you don't like it, you don't have to use it again." He does occassionally, grudgingly, agree to this, but because he always starts off with the mindset that he won't like using the new product, the result is, of course, that he doesn't like it! He knows why I want him to try it, he knows and understands all the problems with plastic, but somehow, somewhere along the line, he fails to care about it. And if Werner can't make him care, I don't know what will.

Sail the high seas

2010-10-10T18:45:00.006+01:00

One of the most exciting things about writing this blog is when people get in touch with me after reading it.

I started writing here simply because it was a requirement for my studies, but it quickly became something I could do for me - a way of putting thoughts into words and a handy tool for chronicling what has essentially become my plastic journey. But then people started reading it - and not just my mother, but people I don't know started reading it!

Play your part
This explains why I was very excited to recieve a lovely and encouraging email from Steve McPherson, whose artwork I mentioned a couple of posts ago (Making Lemonade). Even better: he told me how me, myself, and everyone else can contribute to plastic art and the plastic campaign.

Steve is creating a global depository of images of plastic items found washed up or discarded on the world's beaches. Next time I go to the beach I'll be taking along my camera so I can photograph what I find and help build up what will undoubtedly become a striking collection over the coming years. To take part, visit marineplastic.org and email him your pictures, along with the date the object was found and latitude/longitude location of where it was found.

Expand your knowledge
And for anyone who wants to learn more about what's going on in the high seas, the book Flotsametrics (Ebbesmeyer and Scigliano) looks at the history of ocean flotsam and the story of modern flotsam: floating garbage patches and the legacy of plastic waste.

Get involved
As part of my own need to feel like I am doing more for the coastline and the environment, I recently joined the Cornish based charity Surfers Against Sewage. They don't just campaign against sewage and not just for surfers, but for any changes that help mend the damage being done to the world's oceans, from marine waste to climate change. And it's not just about Cornwall either: they're making a big splash around the whole of the U.K.

There are lots of other plastic campaigns going on out there too, vying for supporters: the Marine Conservation Society and Plastic Pollution Coalition are just two of them.

Teamwork, baby!
I'm a little mouse who is generally happiest hiding out in her own home with a good book, or sitting here tapping at the keyboard and it's always seemed like the only way I can make a difference would be by becoming someone I'm not: outspoken and daring. I'm working on that (gently), but in the mean time, that doesn't mean I can't help others make a difference. Teamwork, baby!

It's Still Not Easy Being Green

2010-10-01T16:51:00.009+01:00

There are three reasons why most people residing in the UK know the name Dick Strawbridge. He is:
1. The man with the best moustache on British T.V. (and possibly the world)
2. The man behind BBC hit ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green’.
3. The man who was recently robbed of the winner’s crown on Celebrity Masterchef.

His eco house (complete with compost toilets, solar panels, windmill, chickens, and more) is based fairly near to my own home in Cornwall, so a few weeks ago when he popped into the bookshop where I work, my lovely colleague, L, lynched him and his son James (or, as he is widely known amongst the ladies working in our store, ‘Handsome James’) into doing a signing with us. And into judging our staff ‘bake-off’. And I lynched him into talking to me about plastic.

“We just take it for granted, it’s everywhere,” he tells me. “2010 and plastic’s all over the place.

“I’ve heard arguments where plastic can actually be described as being quite environmentally friendly. It doesn’t take a lot of resources to make something which is really quite capable – there’s not much plastic in a plastic bag, if you look at it as a single entity. Sum it up and we got a bit lazy.

“Nowadays,” Dick reminds me, “packaging is all. It’s the big P word; plastic and packaging come together. And it all comes together at a point where we’ve forgotten that is has an impact – and it’s got a detrimental impact, what we’re doing.”

In the Strawbridge household
The mission of Newhouse Farm, the Strawbridge smallholding, is ‘To live a 21st century lifestyle, but to produce little or no waste, and to remove our dependence upon fossil fuels’. With this in mind, I wondered how successfully he manages to avoid plastic creeping into the house.

“Do you know how it gets into our house?” he says. “The internet.” Yup, that sounds familiar.

“That’s a sort of stealth way of doing it. If I was in a shop and somebody tried to give me something, I’d say no; I just don’t even think about it. On the internet, you buy something, all of a sudden it turns up and you just wonder why the hell it came like that.”

I can definitely relate – I’m rapidly learning that, despite constant temptation, it is generally much safer packaging-wise to simply not buy from the internet – unless you contact the seller first and question their packaging policy, like I recently did with Natural Spa Supplies.

Curtailing the plastic mindset
“At the moment plastic is thought of as being cheap, when actually it’s a limited resource,” Dick comments.

Plastic manufacturers only pay for the resources that go into their product; they only consider this one cost of what they are making and sending out into the world, when the reality is that every given item costs the world – both people and the environment – a lot more than just the value of extraction, and manipulation, of resources. For instance, aside from the environmental costs of extraction, there are the costs for disposal of the product after its use: transportation, landfill or recycling, both in economic terms and environmental ones. Dick suggests that these costs be included in the original cost of the product.

“All the way through, these things have pennies and pennies and pennies added to them. Those costs, the person who doesn’t give a **** at the front end, the person who’s actually making it – charge them for the whole cost.

“There are alternatives, without a shadow of a doubt, to everything that we do, but at the moment it is the economics that are driving it. [Given current economic issues] can we afford to give businesses more limitations and make it more expensive?” he asks.

And: “I think actually we can,” he says.

This, essentially, is life cycle analysis. The producer should consider all the potential impacts of their product, and build the costs of those costs into the product. This may make everything a lot more expensive – but only because the monetary cost of what we’re consuming will more effectively reflect the real-world cost of that consumption. At the moment, what we pay for goods doesn’t reflect this. It makes so much sense the more I think about it. Perhaps by having to pay more for an item, it’ll make me question whether I really need it? More often than not, I don’t need it – I just want it, and that is something entirely different.

Innovation
There’s no doubt that Dick Strawbridge has got a big personality. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of our small staff room, tasting the various cakes and bread that have been offered up by the booksellers for his scrutiny, he makes jokes, tells anecdotes, and discusses ideas; his thoughts seem to travel a mile a minute. But when it comes to issues of sustainability and being green, he’s extremely earnest.

“We need innovation,” he tells me.

“In October I’ll be launching at St Austell Asda the first paper two litre milk bottle. It’s got some plastic in it, but it’s mainly compressed paper, from the Green Bottle Company. I’m getting involved because I reckon that in four or five years the plastic milk bottle and plastic bottles could actually be on their way out. Because if this functions the way it should do, if it does the job properly, how do you justify using plastic? Very exciting sort of move. We need something like that; we need innovation.”

And finally… the three R’s
“The old mantra, ‘reduce, reuse, recycle’, it’s not very sexy anymore.”

Do they still teach this in schools, I wonder, or has it fallen by the wayside? Innovation is important, extremely important, finding new ways of making things, but perhaps more important than new technology is to change our habits.

“Reducing what we use in the first place is much better than saying, ‘Ah, I’ve got this compostable bag’. We have to get into the frame of mind where people are actually using less. We don’t need to come up with another technical solution, just don’t use as much. That’s the way forward.”

Learn more!
Dick and James Strawbridge's newest book, Practical Self Sufficiency, is out now. And if you want to learn hands on about making your own home more sustainable, the Strawbridges are running a selection of courses from Newhouse Farm, or have dinner cooked for you!

Making lemonade out of lemons

2010-09-24T18:46:00.014+01:00

Richard Lang and Judith Selby
I recently came across a lovely new blog (well, new to me), Plastic Forever. The two authors, Lang and Selby, have spent the last eleven years collecting plastic from their local beach, Kehoe in California. Not just collecting it and storing it, but making art from it. The upshot of this is that (a) their blog is full of really beautiful and striking images, and (b) their art is now being used to promote plastic awareness, advertising the US Coastal Awareness day at the end of September.

Lemons and lemonade
A very cool project, but they are not alone. Plastic beach art is cropping up everywhere – which is almost certainly a reflection of the increasing problem of plastic waste on our beaches. More and more people are starting to notice it and be drawn to it. The images, sculptures, and displays that result are beautiful and bleak, simple and intricate, inspiring and worrying. Here are just a few examples.

Steve McPherson www.stevemcpherson.co.uk
My colleague, G, saw a postcard advertising an exhibition of Steve McPherson’s work whilst on holiday, very kindly thought of me, and brought it back for me to see. According to his website, he’s been collecting discarded plastic items and fragments from the Kent coast for over 15 years.

Georgina Maxwell
www.georginamaxwell.com
My mum is responsible for bringing Georgina’s work to my attention. Based close to my own home in Cornwall, she has, again, been collecting and creating for over a decade, and has plenty of colourful, striking, and attention grabbing ‘trash’ to show for it.

Tuula Narhinen
www.tuulanarhinen.net/
I met with marine scientist Richard Thompson in the spring to find out about his research into marine plastic, and he very kindly gave me an art magazine showcasing Tuula’s work, which varies from jewellery made from mermaid’s tears to strange animal-like sculptures, ‘Frutti di Mare’.

Diana Boulay
www.dianaboulay.com/
Diana is based in Canada which, along with Lang & Selby in California, Tuula in Finland, and the two British artists, just goes to show how widespread the problem is. And I’m sure there are plenty more artists out there making use of similar finds.

Jack Johnson Rocks!

2010-09-17T14:54:00.003+01:00

I just found this brilliant little ditty, 'No need to be such a fancy pants', by Jack Johnson, care of Plastic Pollution Coalition.

Visit Johnson's social action network, All At Once, to learn more about his eco credentials and to get involved yourself.

The Fine Plastic Line

2010-09-15T18:21:00.003+01:00

I have been thinking for a while now about where or if a line can be drawn between acceptable and unacceptable plastics. But the more I think about it, the more vague and sticky the subject seems to become in my mind.

1. Is it ok to buy products or packaging that is made from recycled plastic?
2. Is it ok to buy products or packaging that is made from compostable or degradable plastic?

Degradable…
I talked a little about my concerns regarding degradable plastic in July’s post, ‘Degradable Bin Bags’. I was very impressed to receive a comment from the manufacturer I mentioned, Symphony UK, but I still have some doubts. They included within the comment a link to a YouTube video showing the degradation of their plastic bags, ‘Plastic Bag Degrading’, which was cool to see, but I need to read up more on the science and how exactly, to quote Symphony, once the bag reaches fragmentation stage, “it is no longer a plastic.” Maybe I could visit your factory, Symphony, and see it in action?

Compostable…
Again, I talked about this recently, in my post, 'Life's little luxuries'. For a plastic in the UK to be defined as compostable, it must adhere to the EN 13432 certification. But this means that the plastic will degrade within very specific composting conditions, which are often only present in highly controlled commercial composting operations, and not so likely to be found in my own little garden compost bin.

The burning question in my mind is whether buying products wrapped in degradable or compostable plastics is a genuinely safe alternative? It must better to buy these rather than regular plastic, but is it good or wise to support them, or better to try and find a completely plastic-free alternative?

Recycled…
Recycled plastics add a whole new dimension. I think it’s really good that more and more manufacturers are producing things made from recycled rather than virgin plastic, and I want to support them because I feel that it’s a really important step. Using recycled plastic to make new things makes it worthwhile for me to put what plastic I do use in my recycling bins – to not buy things that have been recycled negates at least one of the benefits of recycling stuff in the first place. And there has to be a market for for recycled materials - otherwise what's the point?

A benefit of buying recycled plastic is that no new (or very limited new) materials have gone into its production. That means reduced environmental impact on the earth and in the air. Of course, there are energy costs involved, from the collection of the original products, to the remodelling of those products, and their subsequent redistribution – I haven’t seen any specific figures on this for plastic, but as far as I’m aware, it’s generally regarded that these come out somewhere below the energy cost of quarrying for fresh resources and initial processing.

But: most plastics that can be recycled can only be recycled once (though there are companies out there working on closed loop systems), so most products made of recycled plastic have hit the end of their lifetimes. And then all the same disposal issues apply as with virgin plastic – as in, there is no way to get rid of it.

The Fine Line?
Where does the balance lie? I’m leaning toward this order of preference:

1. No plastic (duh!)
2. Recycled or easily recyclable plastic is better than compostable plastic
3. Compostable or easily recyclable plastic is better than degradable plastic
4. Degradable plastic is better than ‘regular’ non-recyclable plastic
5. Never buy any plastic that’s not either recycled or recyclable

Biodegradable - or not?

2010-09-13T18:12:00.005+01:00

Seventh Generation has an interesting comment/perspective on the viability of biodegradable bags for the weekly rubbish vs. recycled bags...

"Ask Science Man"

Life's little luxuries

2010-09-05T18:26:00.003+01:00

Toilet roll. One of the nicest of modern conventions, yet in some ways another bane of my life. In my bid to be plastic-free, acquiring toilet roll is one of my ongoing problems.

Plastic-free toilet roll just doesn’t seem to exist. At least, not in the dark depths of Cornwall in which I live. Toilet roll is paper after all, surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to wrap it in a thin paper covering rather plastic? What do I do? Give up toilet roll?

The Moneyless Man
I have recently finished reading a new book by Mark Boyle, the founder of the Freeconomy community. Titled ‘The Moneyless Man’, it recounts a year spent – you guessed it – living without money. It’s a really interesting read which I highly recommend. Very inspiring in many ways, it forced me to consider my own views and wants in terms of the type of lifestyle I seek, though the ultimate conclusion I drew was that I couldn’t go as far as he has. Not without ditching Bron, anyway, as he’s made it very clear to me that that is well beyond what he deems acceptable.

So what does the moneyless man use for toilet roll? If I remember correctly, newspaper - for the most part. But more importantly are the issues he raises about the modern convenience that is the toilet. I won’t go into a lot of detail here as I’m getting off topic, suffice to say that using a resource as vital and valuable as water to defecate in is, frankly, a bit stupid. Compost toilets are the more sensible route.

Ecoleaf and Bioplast
So, newspaper. I have yet to suggest this idea to Bron, but I suspect I can already his reaction. ‘No way!’ would probably be the most polite way to sum up what I can imagine his answer would be.

Which leaves me rather limited options, given as I don’t think either he, our neighbours, or our landlady would go for the construction of a human compost area in our tiddly, heavily overlooked back garden either. For the time being, therefore, I have settled on Ecoleaf toilet rolls. The packaging on these, though plastic, says, ‘100% compostable wrap; 100% recycled paper; 100% commitment’.

100% compostable? This brings me right back to the degradable plastics debate started in my previous post, ‘Degradable Bin Bags?’ But, ‘Ecoleaf toilet tissue is wrapped in Bioplast, a plasticizer-free and fully compostable packaging. It will biodegrade TOTALLY under the influence of soil-based micro-organisms without the need for human intervention. Made from potato starch and natural co-polymers, it is both sustainable and renewable. This product has been designed to be fully compostable.’

This packaging sounds like a degradable plastic in the more real sense than the D2W bin bags. The packaging lists it’s manufacturer as ‘Bioplast’, but when I visit their website I find myself incredibly confused - the description of their manufacturing process is so badly written that I could barely make head nor tail of it - which leaves me clueless when it comes to the details behind this particular product. So I decided to email them, to which their response has left me even more confused. Their product isn’t yet on the market, they tell me, so I must be barking up the wrong tree. Humph. So I try emailing Suma, the company behind the Ecoleaf brand, but receive absolutely no response at all from them. Humph again.

EN 13432
The best I can do is extend from the quote on the packaging. Being made from potato starch is an excellent start – a truly natural and easily degraded material - although I’d like to know what exactly the natural co-polymers they refer to are. The packaging also states that the plastic certified EN 13432.

EN 13432 is an internationally agreed standard that defines a plastic’s ability to degrade under commercial composting conditions. The advertisement of this standard on a plastic product is a good sign. However, the key term in the standard’s definition is ‘commercial’. Commercial, or industrial, composting units are much more tightly controlled systems than what the average citizen is likely to have in their back garden, creating and maintaining the most ideal composting environment, from temperature to PH and oxygen flow. This means that the composting process will be much quicker and more thorough than if I use my own composting bin. The issue with this is that once I put my rubbish out for the bin men to collect it, I don’t know whether it’ll be added to landfill or thrown in a composter – and so, even though the process may not be as efficient in my own bin, that’s what I plan to use, because at least I can be sure it is at least being given the opportunity to compost. I’ll just have to view it as a personal experiment to find out what will actually happen.

Read more about EN13432 and the OK Compost standards.

Mmmm... Cupcakes

2010-09-04T19:44:00.003+01:00

1. Go to Lakeland and purchase some of their amazing silicone re-useable cupcake moulds. Ok, so they do come in little plastic tubs, but keep this packaging to store the moulds in whenever they’re not in use, and hundreds of cupcakes can be made without ever creating any waste.

2. Visit the local farm shop and purchase three free range eggs (or six for twice as many cupcakes!)

3. Purchase 6oz of butter, but do be careful with the selection as the posher butters are invariably wrapped in mixed materials packaging rather than paper – stick to something like Sainsbury’s basics for simple paper wrapping.

4. 6oz of sugar – Tate & Lyle may not be organic or raw cane sugar, but it does come in a paper bag.

5. 6oz of self-raising flour – more opportunities for going organic here as pretty much all flour remains available in a traditional paper packet.

6. A vanilla pod (should come in its own skin, no packaging required; well, theoretically).

7. Drop in to Co-op for some of their lovely fairtrade dark chocolate. 100g should do the job.

8. 1 tsp of baking powder. Now this is the tricky part. I haven’t yet sourced baking powder without the plastic packaging, but there’s no law that says baking powder must be used – try it without and they’re still pretty good.

9. 1 tbsp milk (preferably delivered by the local milkman in a traditional glass bottle).

10. In a glass bowl, melt together half the butter and all of the chocolate. Put to one side.

11. Mix together the rest of the ingredients (just a few seeds from the vanilla pod, not the whole thing!). Ideally an electric whizzer would be used here, but to be completely plastic free it could be done by hand. Hard work and serious elbow grease required, but it is possible. However, as I already own some plastic whizzers, I admit to not being dedicated enough to complete this particular task by hand just yet.

12. Mix in the melted chocolate and butter.

13. Spread cupcake moulds out on baking tray and spoon mixture into them.

14. Bake at 180 degrees for approximately 20 minutes.

15. Guilt free eating pleasure.

And back to deodorant again

2010-08-29T13:37:00.003+01:00

One of the very first posts I wrote was about changing my deodorant from the standard plastic encased roll-on to a plastic-free one (read skincare and the new deodorant). After struggling with Lush’s solid deodorants I eventually settled for a deodorant stone that I found in a green supermarket while visiting some friends in Totnes.

The deodorant stone works a treat. The methodology behind it sounds completely implausible, but the fact is it works. Made of mineral salts, they look like a piece of crystal pulled straight from a rock in a dark, damp cave. Wetting the stone and rubbing it directly on the skin causes it to leave behind an invisible layer of salts that apparently prevents odour-causing bacteria from setting up home.

"What the hell is that?" asked my cousin H when I left it out on her bathroom shelf during a visit earlier this year.

"Umm, my deodorant..." I replied sheepishly. I love H to bits, but I don't think she's really all that into alternative concepts, so I generally don't share these particular sensibilities of mine with her.

"Well, I haven't noticed you smelling yet, so I suppose it must do something," was her closing comment.

And then Disaster Strikes
All was good for a year. And then a couple of months ago I had to lay my beloved deodorant stone to rest and go in a search of a new one (in other words, I dropped it on the floor and it shattered into about a million pieces). That was when things started to go wrong. First I thought I’d buy one direct from the company that made/sourced my original stone. No can do, they’re out of stock. As is every stockist I could find that stocks this particular brand.

Alright, so I’ll see if I can find one locally, I decided. Errm, no. None of my local health stores stock them in their completely packaging-free state. Do I drive to Totnes to buy one from the store I got the first one from? Seems a bit wrong, and somewhat hypocritical, to exude evil exhaust fumes for that purpose alone.

Ok, so there must be other companies that supply them, I thought. Internet here I come. And yes, after much deliberation, I settled on ‘Tawas Crystal’, pictured in a lovely little bamboo basket. Great, I thought, no plastic. Sorted.

Or not. When the crystal arrived a couple of days later it was in a jiffy bag. But not only in a jiffy bag. In a plastic box, wrapped in bubble wrap, in a jiffy bag. ‘Darn’ would be the polite way of phrasing my reaction. There was probably more plastic involved in this one package than if I had gone out and bought a typical roll-on deodorant from the shop down the road. I’ll use it for now obviously, but, I wondered, what am I going to do next time?

Hark the Herald Angels
Thank you Mrs Green over on My Zero Waste. You are my saviour.

“Not all crystal deodorants are the same,” she pointed out, and sent me off to read the details about them on Natural Spa Supplies. And this lovely company, Natural Spa Supplies, also sells the good kind. But what about their packaging I wonder? Although the fact that Mrs Green had already recommended them to me indicated that the packaging would be sustainable, having learnt my lesson from previous experiences, this time I thought I’d better check.

“I use padded envelopes which are filled with recycled paper," they tell me. "And corrugated cardboard and string to protect the contents. I do tend to use a strip of cellotape to make sure the envelope doesn’t fly open, but that is all.” A strip of cellotape? I can live with that.

Yippee! I think. There are other people out there who are trying to change the world. And so I have just placed my first order. As well as the alum deodorant, I’ve ordered some other things to try too – Rhassoul clay for washing, soapnuts for the washing machine, savon noir soap for Bron to shave with, and a clay water purifier to replace my plastic Brita filter. I suddenly feel very poor, but I feel confident it’ll be worth it! Besides, it's always fun to try something different.

But what does 'Plastic' mean?

2010-08-22T14:13:00.004+01:00

I have been thinking about what the word plastic has come to mean within our society. In the research I’ve been doing for the book I’m trying to write about plastic, I keep coming across one particular quote.

‘I want to say one word to you; just one word,’ says Mr. McGuire to Benjamin Braddock in the iconic 1967 movie, The Graduate.
‘Yes, sir,’ replies Dustin Hoffman’s character, Benjamin.
‘Are you listening?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Plastics,’ says Mr McGuire.
‘Exactly how do you mean?’
‘There’s a great future in plastics. Think about it. Will you think about it?’

In the 1960’s plastic was just coming into its own. It was the way forward, the chosen material of the space age. Despite being mid-Cold War, the 50’s and 60’s are generally regarded as being optimistic and forward-looking decades, and – with the launch of post-war economy-boosting plans to get everyone buying, buying, buying – decades of material affluence. ‘The optimism of life in those decades was accompanied by a ‘throw-away’ approach to material goods, a short-term relationship between people and their possessions,’ writes Penny Sparke in The Genius of Design. And this is very much epitomised by the now famous article in Life magazine, ‘Throwaway Living: disposable items cut down household chores’. Plastic was the future, the ‘stuff of dreams’ (Penny Sparke).

So when did this change? I’ve started asking people what they think of when they hear the word ‘plastic’ – people who aren’t aware of my particular dislike of plastic, and people who I know aren’t particularly eco-warrior-esque, as I figured they wouldn’t have too many pre-existing ideas about the environmental connotations of plastic. Here are some of the responses I’ve had so far:

‘Barbie. Fragile, brittle.’
‘Lego, cheap, oil, chemicals, bags.’
‘Cheap and nasty!’
‘False. Cheap and nasty, cosmetic surgery etc…’

Hmmm, not too flattering, I must say. Cheap is true – after all, the cheapness of the material is one of the reasons why it’s become so ubiquitous. And nasty – perhaps nasty because plastic doesn’t age well, it flakes, it becomes brittle. And maybe nasty because it’s cheap. Even though many people seek to buy the cheaper things, being cheap is still an insult. As plastic products flooded the post-war market, quantity took over from quality as plastic was substituted for other longer-lasting and more expensive materials such as steel and ceramics. ‘Cheaper, lower quality plastic products had entered the civilian marketplace,’ writes Penny Sparke. ‘Doubts began to emerge about the materials’ relationship with good design; consumers began to be anxious that they were being sold ‘vulgar’ or tasteless goods, and disenchantment set in.’

But – and this is one of the most interesting things for me – this idea of plastic as cheap and nasty, and representative of bad taste, has led the word to take on a whole different meaning. ‘In the sixties, you could always insult a guy by calling him ‘plastic,’’ Elizabeth Royte tells her readers in Garbage Land. ‘The word became a kind of shorthand for a suburban life of conspicuous consumption and upward striving.’ Plastic people, plastic culture – it’s become synonymous with fleeting, throwaway ideas, with being shallow and worthless. Everybody understands this, and this concept has fully insinuated itself within society and language.

And yet the use of plastic has risen and risen, and is now the most produced material in the world, millions of tonnes of it every single year. If everybody hates it and looks down their noses at it, how did this happen? Five minutes after I asked a lady at work what she thought of plastic – to which her response was, ‘I don’t like it’ – she’s tucking into her plastic-sealed lunch. Is it because plastic as a material was just so innovative we couldn’t help but be tempted by it and what it could offer us? The more I think about it, the more I realise that humans are short-term thinkers. We look for easy solutions, the quick fix, the lazy option. Plastic has provided this for us in ways that were probably never even imagined a hundred or a hundred and fifty years ago. How could we say no once it was there?

Let’s face it, plastic revolutionised the way I live. It made things affordable to people who could never have afforded such things if they weren’t made of plastic, and who am I to say they shouldn’t be allowed to have them if they want them? Who am I to tell someone they can’t strive for a better lifestyle? And as long as people were buying plastic – despite the increasingly negative thoughts being attached to it – companies continued to make it.

And so here we are.

Penny Sparke’s book, The Genius of Design, was produced to coincide with a recent BBC2 series of the same name. It was a five part series looking at all sorts of different aspects of design, including a whole episode dedicated to plastic (‘Better Living through Chemistry’), which was incredibly fascinating. Unfortunately, the episode doesn’t seem to be available to watch online at the moment, but the whole series can be bought on DVD – ironic, given as DVD’s are a typical example of how plastic has shaped modern living.

The Joys of Retail

2010-08-18T19:23:00.003+01:00

I was sitting in on an interview at work for a new staff member the other day, when the manager all of a sudden threw the questioning over to me. Put on the spot, I found myself grasping to explain the complexities of being a Waterstone’s bookseller. Many people might ask how being a bookseller could possibly be complex, but bookselling is as political and money-driven as virtually every other profession out there. In this particular instance, the knot I was trying to unwind was the balance between being an individual whilst also toeing the company line.

Within every store we are strongly encouraged to promote the books we personally love, tailor the store to our own particular brand of customers, and strike up friendly conversations with customers left, right and centre in order to make them feel welcomed. However, in contrast to these freedoms, every member of staff is also expected to say a set of very specific lines to customers at the till point.

‘Do you have a Waterstone’s card? Would you like one of ours books of the week for only £4.49?’ And - my particular favourite - ‘Do you need a bag?’

Do you need a bag?
‘Do you need a bag?’ not, ‘Do you want a bag’ or ‘Would you like a bag?’ It’s an interesting choice of wording – the use of need rather than want is designed to make the customer think about their requirements rather than their wants. But does it work? Now that’s a loaded question. I get lots and lots of different responses to the bag question, but they can generally be grouped into the following categories:

Apologetic
Customers who want a bag even though they know they shouldn’t take one and feel like they should at least feel some fleeting guilt about taking one. ‘Normally I wouldn’t, but I’ve left mine in the car today.’

Mr and Mrs Average
Customers who genuinely consider the question and provide a direct answer – either yes or no. It’s probably about 50/50 either way, though this is often dependant on external factors – whether it’s raining, say, or the amount that they’re purchasing.

Eco-Warriors
Those who jump in and tell you they don’t need a bag before you’ve even had a chance to ask the question (sounds like me).

Ignorant
Customers who have no concept of the environment at all, responding with something along the lines of, ‘Of course I need a bag! Do you think I’m going to carry these around under my arm?!’ This is irritating because they talk to me as if I’m stupid. I’m not stupid – at the simplest end of the spectrum, I am simply doing my job as I have been trained to do by my company, never mind the environmental aspects.

Hypocritical
Customers who are carrying their own canvas bags, but seem to be doing so only as a fashion accessory. They take a plastic bag from each store they visit and then put each one inside the bigger canvas one – heaven forbid that their various purchases should all have to roll around together, touching each other. For me, these are some of the most irritating customers, because they’re pretending they’re eco-friendly by carrying their own bags, which often shout some anti-plastic message, yet they’re still using as much plastic as they would if they hadn’t brought their own bags.

Downright Annoying
‘Yes, if you don’t mind’ is one of the most annoying answers I get. I want to shout at them, ‘Yes, I do mind! You’re helping to destroy the world!’ But, meek as I am, I can’t help but do my job, smile politely and, simply, do as I’m told. ‘The customer is always right’ is the old saying after all. But what would happen if, one day, I rebelled? The company’s emphasis on customer service is so strong, that even contemplating the risk of alienating a customer over such an issue is enough to bring me out in a cold sweat.

The Waterstone’s Way
Carrier bags do seem to be a rather contentious subject at the moment, as I’m sure is the case among most high street retailers today. I attended a regional forum today, where the representatives from around ten stores gather together to share ideas and bring forward concerns or problems for later discussion at a higher level within the company.

‘Don’t talk to me about bags!’ our regional manager said toward the start of the meeting. Not because she didn’t want to discuss it, but because it’s already very much on the company’s agenda and griping about them at a regional level wasn’t going to achieve anything.

Whenever I want to talk about plastic bags, the discussion usually includes the word ‘ban’, and so my first assumption when other staff in the meeting brought up the subject was that this was what was on their minds as well. But, disappointingly for me, from the few comments that were made, I don’t think this was actually the case. Until about two years ago, the store used what could be described as classy bags. Good quality, strong, glossy, black bags. Today’s bags are much flimsier and they are white, but – and all credit to the company here – they are made from recycled plastic. I think this is fantastic. I believe that buying goods made of recycled plastic (actually, of recycled anything) is important because it helps to support the recycling industry. However, it seems that not everyone agrees with me.

‘They don’t look as nice,’ is a frequent comment. Or, ‘Can you double bag it because my boyfriend’ll be able to see what I’ve bought him,’ is another. Grumble, grumble is my general, internal, response. I can see their points, but nobody seems to respect the sound environmental decision that the company’s made to produce their bags from recycled plastic. Although I’d ultimately like to see them phasing out plastic bags altogether, I do think that until they do, their current policy is about as strong as it can be.

Carrier bags are on the agenda for the company’s upcoming Corporate Social Responsibility meeting. In what context, I don’t know, though obviously I’m eager to know whether or not the possibility of removing them altogether is under consideration – or charging for them, as WHSmiths currently does. I think probably not. Charging for bags can be viewed as being negative – it puts the customer in a bit of a bind, and those who don’t understand why the charge is in place (and my experiences tells me there will be plenty that fall into this category) are likely to view the company in a negative way as a result, which means that they’re less likely to come back and spend their money there in the future. And so Waterstone’s has gone for the carrot rather than the stick method. Instead of charging, they reward customers with extra loyalty card points for not taking a bag. Another idea that makes sound business sense. But does it work? Not every customer has (or wants) a loyalty card and of those that do, despite advertising the ‘eco-points’ scheme, most don’t realise it exists. I always try to make a point of telling customers who don’t take bags that I’m giving them extra points because of it, and nine times out of ten their response is surprise or mild bewilderment.

Plastic bags: valid issue or a distraction?
At today’s meeting, our regional manager did tell us that ‘bag costs are down by about half of what they were two years ago.’ She didn’t expand on the comment, but I assume this is a result of a combination of the change in bag production from glossy to recycled as well as the company-wide introduction of the ‘Do you need a bag?’ question. I wonder what the reduction in bags in terms of number are? Probably not as much as half, but I’m sure bag usage has gone down as it becomes a bigger and more widely acknowledged issue within our society. This, however, leaves me with two thoughts.

Firstly, when shopping in other stores on the high street I continue to be surprised by the number of companies who don’t appear to have a bag reduction policy in place – which, although I feel they could take the issue further, makes me feel proud to work for a company that is thinking about it.

And secondly I am reminded of an article written last year by The Guardian’s environmental commentator, Leo Hickman, on the subject of plastic bags. Is the ever increasing focus on them as an environmental concern detracting us from more serious environmental issues? Despite this being a subject that is close to my heart, I fear he is right. It’s easy to get wrapped up in one issue and forget about everything else. It’s also easy to forget that there’s a lot more to the issue of plastic itself than plastic bags – plastic bags are, after all, a long long way from being the only plastic pollution created by modern everyday living and I think there are lots of people out there who, while they may reject a plastic bag from their local Waterstone’s store, probably wouldn’t think twice about the fact that they’re buying a plastic booklight encased in plastic packaging, or that the cool cover of their new hardback copy of ‘C’ by Tom McCarthy is also plastic.

Oh dear, I’m never happy, am I?

Extra reading: Waterstone's carrier bag policy

All the King's horses

2010-08-01T18:40:00.003+01:00

Another great, informative little talk from Captain Charles Moore:

"All the King's horses and all the King's men," he says, "will never gather up all the plastic and put the ocean back together again."

Solution 101: reduce the pollution at it's source - i.e. us.

On Banning Plastic Bags - Part 2

2010-07-30T15:47:00.002+01:00

A couple of weeks ago, in 'On Banning Plastic Bags', I posted on here a letter I sent to UK Secretary of State for the environment, Caroline Spelman, asking for details on her waste and plastic bag policies, along with the somewhat disappointing reply I recieved from her department, DEFRA.

This is the letter that I sent back following DEFRA's response:

Dear Mr. Hands,

Thank you for taking the time to read my letter and for your reply. However, I do not feel that you read my letter fully, or that you have answered my questions.

1. I am aware of Ms Spelman's current review of waste policies and the aim of this to move England toward a zero waste society. The first question I asked in my letter was regarding more detail on how Ms Spelman and Defra plan to achieve the ideal of a zero waste society. What waste policies are under consideration in order to achieve this aim? And how are they going to be structured? For instance, are you investigating the policies of other countries (e.g. Germany) to see how they have achieved what they have?

2. You say that the government's aim is to end the "needless distribution" of the single-use carrier bag. Please could you define for me the term, "needless distribution"? Your use of this term implies that there are circumstances under which the distribution of single-use carrier bags is necessary, a statement with which I would have to strongly disagree.

3. You write, “We would like to see the single-use carrier bag, issued free at the point of sale, become a thing of the past.” Excellent. But how do you plan to achieve this? You provide some interesting statistics further on in your letter regarding the voluntary agreement of a number of supermarket chains to reduce their carrier usage. You explain that the supermarkets involved have agreed to a 50% reduction and that these supermarkets account for 85% of the grocery market. Taking these two numbers together, it accounts for only a 42.5% reduction in carrier bags within the grocery market.

Firstly, this is less than a 50% reduction of carriers bags within the grocery market alone – while, as you say, those who have made this agreement may represent a large portion of the UK’s carrier bag usage, and while a 42.5% reduction is a good start (everything has to start somewhere, after all), this is still an extremely long way from the making the single-use carrier bag “a thing of the past”. How do you plan to make up the 57.5% shortfall?

Secondly, it is important to note that this 50% target is a pledge and only a pledge. It is not written in stone that the signatories will meet this target, and if they don’t meet it, there won’t be any consequences because it is not a legal agreement – it is a ‘pledge’. Thirdly, this pledge does not take into consideration retail outside the grocery market – what about book shops, gift shops, music shops, chemists, etc etc?

4. You write, "The key to reducing the number of bags we use is reuse of bags of all varieties." I take this to mean that the manner in which you plan to end "needless distribution" of the single-use carrier bag is by making them multiple use? I take this to mean that the government’s main plan to reduce carrier bags is simply to encourage people to re-use them? Re-use is a good initiative, and I would agree that it would need to be an integral part of any policy, but re-use on its own does not a policy make. And how do you plan to encourage people to simply re-use all their carrier bags? A lot of people are likely to embrace this idea, but without a more solid injunction, you will never achieve a 100% reduction through this method alone.

5. You write, "The results of this earlier agreement were a 26% reduction in numbers of bags distributed by participating retailers, and a 40% reduction in the environmental impact of carrier bags." Please can you tell me how this figure of a “40% reduction in the environmental impact” was obtained?

6. The Defra website link included in your letter does not work. Using this link simply takes me to a page that informs me that the page I was looking for no longer exists (“error 404”). Please could you provide me with the correct link.

7. Lastly, the question which I felt to be the main gist of my letter was whether or not Defra has any plans (or has considered) introducing either a tax or an outright ban on plastic bags. I provided with my first letter an example of the success of a plastic bag tax, and a list of regions throughout the world where a ban is already in place (also attached here). In your reply, you have deftly avoided providing a direct answer to this question. I would be grateful if you could give me an answer please. And if you are not able to answer this or any of my other questions, I would appreciate you forwarding my letter to someone who can.

With thanks,
Isabel Popple

And here is the second reply I recieved:

Dear Ms Popple

Thank you for your reply of 1 July.

We intend to publish the detailed Terms of Reference for the Review shortly along with a Call for Evidence. As the Terms of Reference has not been finalised, I cannot answer as to which policies we will be looking at.

It is recognised that there will always be circumstances where it will be necessary to use a single use bag. For instance, if your own re-usable bags are full, then a single use bag may be appropriate. However, the Courtauld Commitment pledges that single use bags are kept to a minimum.

The 50% reduction in plastic bags only applies to signatories of the Courtauld Commitment. As this is a voluntary agreement it is up to each company to decide on their own strategy for the aims to be achieved. Whilst this is a voluntary agreement, the Government has reserved the right to take steps if the terms of the agreement are not met, though this will be subject to the Review.

The Courtauld Commitment covers 85% of the market. The Association of Convenience Stores (mainly small shops) has agreed to a ‘second tier’ agreement for smaller retailers and others who were not party to the main voluntary agreement. This ‘second tier’ did not bind signatories to specific targets but included a pledge to reduce the number of bags they give out via appropriate measures. This approach could be pursued, though any decision will be subject to the Review.

The first voluntary agreement on carrier bags (2006-2008) aimed to reduce the environmental impact of all carrier bags by 25%. The Waste Resources Action Programme (WRAP) collected and analysed data from the retailers' procurement statistics and monitored sector progress. Data submitted by retailers was reviewed by WRAP to check for any major anomalies and ongoing trends.

The target of ‘25% reduction in the environmental impact of carrier bags’ was measured by looking at a reduction in the number of carrier bags issued and the amount of virgin plastic used, which provided a simple way to measure environmental impact. The participants achieved a 26% reduction in the total number of carrier bags used and a 40% reduction in the amount of virgin polymer used. The total weight of bags was also recorded and reported separately.

Lastly, you asked whether or not there are any plans to introduce either a tax or an outright ban on plastic bags, this will also be subject to the Review.

Yours sincerely,
David Hands
Customer Contact Unit
Defra

Degradable Bin Bags?

2010-07-18T12:27:00.003+01:00

The biodegradability of biodegradable-classed plastics is a subject that I have a multitude of questions about. ‘100% degradable’ plastic products shout – but so often it turns out that this is not exactly true. For starters, they will often only degrade under very specific conditions and, secondly, ‘100%’ seems to be a description that is open to interpretation.

100%?
Take this photo (courtesy of Corbis), which shows how a biodegradable plastic fork disintegrates over a period of months. Cool huh? Ironically, though, the caption for the image on Corbis’ website reads ‘….. completely degrades’. Errr… Sorry to burst the photographer’s bubble, but there’s still quite a bit of visible material left in the final picture there, so I’m thinking it hasn’t ‘completely degraded’ at all. Maybe it’s no longer recognisable as a fork, but its basic materials are still pretty much in existence.

A biodegradable minefield
As far as I can tell, there are lots of different approaches that manufacturers of purportedly degradable plastics can take – some of them, I believe, are genuine; some not so. It’s certainly a minefield, and one that I’m still trying to find a safe path through, so I won’t go into a lot of detail here today. But, there are bio plastics that are completely composed of natural materials (rather than oil-based, though oil is, technically, a natural material). And then there are plastics that are made up of a web of traditional plastic molecules which are held together by degradable materials – the strands holding them together degrade, leaving lots of teeny tiny pieces of non-degradable plastic still floating around in the environment. The difficulty for us as consumers is figuring out which are really degradable, and which are pseudo-degradable.

And so to bin bags
Which brings me to the initial point of this particular post: degradable bin bags.

To be honest, degradable bin bags are a bit of a misnomer. This is because in order for fully biological bioplastics to degrade properly, they really need some good composting conditions: carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, heat and water. Without these, nothing will degrade – think of the permafrost men, frozen forever in virtually their original state. And in your average landfill, where most of our household bin bags wind up, these conditions are severely lacking. So even if you’re good and green and buy those special degradable bin bags, chances are they’ll never have the opportunity to degrade.

Unfortunately, Bron and I have yet to reduce our waste to a zero point – we’re not too bad, all told, but we still have our weekly deposit on the lawn for the bin men to collect, mostly thanks to the cat who, even in the summer weather, still steadfastly uses her litter tray. So when it came to deciding whether to use degradable bin bags or not, I really wasn’t sure whether there much point to it or not. Bron thought “no”, but I figured at least it’s slightly better than a completely non-degradable one. Off to Archie Browns I went, one of my local health stores, where they sell bags produced by Symphony Environmental.

The D2W additive
‘Fact,’ the packaging on these bin bags states. ‘This plastic really is 100% degradable. Fantastic!’

How? I wondered. ‘Our d2w® additive put into the plastic at the extrusion stage will make the finished product "oxo-biodegradable" so that it will degrade and disappear in a short timescale, leaving no fragments, no methane and no harmful residues,’ explains their website, www.degradable.co.uk

‘The degradation process is initiated at the time the polyethylene or polypropylene is extruded by the inclusion of a small amount of a special additive.’ So they still contain traditional polymers then? They’re not made from corn starch, or a similar alternative.

But wait, this is a good thing, they say, because it means the bags do ‘not need a biologically active environment to start degrading - this will happen even if the plastic is left in the open air! … For this reason in particular, d2w™ 'totally degradable' plastic is superior to 'bio-degradable' which requires the plastic to be in a biologically active environment (for example, by being buried in the ground) before the degradation process is initiated.’ Which gets us over the compostable-plastic-doesn’t-compost-in-the-landfill issue I suppose.

I’m really not sure what to think at this point. Is this stuff good or bad? Apparently the additive used speeds up the natural degradation of plastic that would otherwise take tens or hundreds of years, so that the bags quite quickly break down into flake-sized pieces. At this point, because the polymer chains have been reduced in length, oxygen is able to bond with the carbon in the chain, forming CO2. Is this just theory or does it actually happen in the environment? The next bit I don’t quite understand – the formation of CO2 further reduces the flakes in size which makes them ‘water wettable’. Water wettable? What does that mean? Despite my science degree, my biology and chemistry knowledge, I have never heard this term before. Apparently being water wettable means that micro-organisms can access the chemicals in the polymer chains.

Am I any the wiser? I still don’t know. It all sounds quite reasonable, yet I can’t help having my suspicions. Or am I just being negative? After everything I’ve read about how difficult it is for polymers to break down, this just sounds a bit too easy. I believe that the bags will break down into flakes, but I wonder how persistent those flakes ultimately are in the environment? Even if the bags don’t need composting conditions to get to this stage, thanks to the D2W additive, if the flakes then need micro-organisms to further degrade them, that does imply a composting situation – which, I mentioned earlier, won’t be found in a typical landfill situation.

The debate continues
Perhaps these bags aren’t the ultimate solution, but are they better than the standard bin bag? Is this ‘100% degrading’? What about the microscopic bits of plastic that wind up in the environment waiting for some happy micro-organism to munch on? When exposed to wider ecosystems, these are arguably more damaging to wildlife than more solid forms of the material are, as Professor Richard Thompson can attest. I am yet to be convinced by the eco-credentials of this particular brand of degradable plastic.

On Banning Plastic Bags

2010-07-01T16:49:00.004+01:00

On 19th June, I sent the following letter to Caroline Spelman, the UK's new Secretary of State for the Environment:

Dear Caroline,

This week you called for the UK to become a zero waste society, an issue which I whole heartedly support.

I am currently researching and writing a book about plastic. Loosely titled ‘A Life Less Plastic’, it will chart the story of plastic, from its manufacture, to the myriad plastic products we find in our homes, to its disposal, and all of the environmental concerns surrounding it. I was therefore particularly interested in your comments about encouraging manufacturers to reduce their packaging materials, which are often comprised of single use plastics, and was hoping that you would be able to tell me more about this proposal and how you will achieve it.

As Environment Secretary, please could you also tell me what plans, if any, you have regarding plastic bags. Although plastic now features strongly in every aspect of the average westerner’s daily lifestyle, from the packaging on the food we eat, to the technology we use, and even the activities we undertake in our leisure time, the plastic bag is probably the most widely recognised form of plastic pollution. Many countries have already taken steps to ban single use plastic bags, with often astounding results, or to introduce taxes on them. The Republic of Ireland, for instance, introduced a tax on plastic bags in 2002, which resulted in a 90% reduction in plastic bag usage as well acquiring significant extra revenue for the government. Are you considering a similar tax, or an outright ban, for the UK? For your interest, I attach a list of worldwide bans and taxes on plastic bags currently in place.

I understand that you are a person who is very much in demand and with a heavy workload, but I would very much like to enter a conversation with you on these subjects. As you are aware, zero waste and plastic waste are subjects very much in the public sphere at the moment, and they are obviously on the new government’s agenda as well, and it is in the public’s interest – and in the interest of the environment and our swiftly depleting resources – to tackle these issues openly and quickly.

I look forward to hearing from you and learning more about your own and the government’s plans and thoughts on this important issue.

Yours truly,
Isabel Popple

And here is the reply I have just recieved:

Dear Ms Popple

Thank you for your email of 19 June to the Secretary of State. I have been asked to reply.

It is encouraging to hear of your interest in this issue. You may have seen that the Secretary of State, Caroline Spelman, has recently announced a full review of waste policies in England. The overarching purpose of the Review will be to ensure that the correct waste policies are in place to enable us to move towards a ‘zero waste society’.

In line with the European Union’s revised Waste Framework Directive, the Government's aim is to end the needless distribution of carrier and, over the longer term, we would like to see the single-use carrier bag, issued free at the point of sale, become a thing of the past. The key to reducing the number of bags we use is reuse of bags of all varieties. All bags have an environmental impact - reusing them as many times as possible and disposing of them in an appropriate way minimises this impact. This could include a final use as a bin liner – displacing the need for a new bag/liner to be used instead.

The Waste and Resources Action Programme (WRAP) monitor the number of bags given out by the main supermarkets, and will present their next full set of data this summer.

On 18 December 2008, Britain's leading supermarkets, represented by the British Retail Consortium (BRC), signed up to an agreement pledging a 50 per cent cut in the number of carrier bags given out by the end of May 2009, based on a 2006 baseline, and to aspire to a longer term reduction of 70 per cent. The agreement covered seven of Britain's major supermarket chains in England, Wales and Northern Ireland and targeted both paper and plastic single-use carrier bags provided by the supermarkets involved. The supermarkets committed to the agreement account for more than 85 per cent of the UK grocery market and, therefore, a significant proportion of the UK's carrier bag usage. Bags will still be available, but retailers will be introducing various measures to reduce the number they give out, and encourage consumers to reuse the bags they have - whatever sort of bags they are.

The voluntary agreement builds on an earlier agreement with 21 leading retailers to reduce the environmental impact of carrier bags by 25 per cent between May 2006 and December 2008. The results of this earlier agreement were a 26 per cent reduction in numbers of bags distributed by participating retailers, and a 40 per cent reduction in the environmental impact of carrier bags.

More information on WRAP’s work on reducing waste and increasing resource efficiency in businesses and public organisations can be found on its website at www.wrap.org.uk.

For more information on Defra’s programme on reducing waste arising from carrier bags, please visit our website at www.defra.gov.uk/environment/localenv/litter/bags/index.htm.

I hope this is helpful.

Yours sincerely,
David Hands
Customer Contact Unit
Defra

First reactions
My first response to the David Hands' reply is: did he actually read my letter?

"You may have seen that the Secretary of State, Caroline Spelman, has recently announced a full review of waste policies in England," he writes. Err, well, had he read my letter properly, he may have seen that an acknowledgement of this forms the opening sentence of my letter, "This week [Caroline Spelman] called for the UK to become a zero waste society." Ok, so maybe my comment doesn't directly refer to an overview of waste management policy, but I do think it demonstrates that I'm aware of the review and the Secretary of State's movements on it.

Second reactions
"The Government's aim is to end the needless distribution of carrier and, over the longer term, we would like to see the single-use carrier bag, issued free at the point of sale, become a thing of the past." Ok, that's a start. But how does he define "needless distribution", and how does the government actually plan to end this needless distribution?

"The key to reducing the number of bags we use is reuse of bags of all varieties." I take this to mean that the manner in which the government plans to end "needless distribution" of the single-use carrier bag is by making them, errr, multiple use? So, no bans, no taxes, just encouraging people to re-use them? Doesn't sound like a very solid plan really does it? And how are they going to encourage people to re-use them?

"On 18 December 2008, Britain's leading supermarkets, represented by the British Retail Consortium (BRC), signed up to an agreement pledging a 50 per cent cut in the number of carrier bags given out by the end of May 2009, based on a 2006 baseline, and to aspire to a longer term reduction of 70 per cent..." Some nice figures here, that might be enough to satisfy a lot of people with similar queries. But it rather feels like he is simply quoting figures he's been told to brag about, rather than having properly read my letter and considered the issues I tried to raise within it.

Are you kidding me?
"The results of this earlier agreement were a 26 per cent reduction in numbers of bags distributed by participating retailers, and a 40 per cent reduction in the environmental impact of carrier bags." A 40% reduction in the environmental impact of carrier bags? How on earth can he quantify or prove this figure? Where does this figure come from and how was it obtained?

And finally...
The Defra website link doesn't work. At least, not today anyway. Which means I am unable to look at "more information on Defra’s programme on reducing waste arising from carrier bags."

It's a Compostable Life

2010-06-21T13:05:00.003+01:00

Yippee! Finally, we have set up our composting bin. It’s only been sitting in the shed since last October. Bron and I live in an area that’s quite exposed to the elements and the bin being as lightweight as it is, I was afraid it would get blown away during the winter months before we had a chance to anchor it with all our veg scraps.

‘But it’s plastic!’ you might be saying. Yes, I know, it’s plastic. Before settling on this particular bin, I did actually do quite a bit of research into my composting options. It all seems like quite a while ago now, but it is easy to buy wooden composters, and I certainly would have done had I thought it appropriate to do so.

My reasons for not buying a wooden compost bin are:

1. Our house is a small two-up two-down semi-detached new build-type on a small, fairly enclosed estate with a very small garden. Wooden bins are generally open and with slatted sides, and the neighbours (never mind our landlady) really wouldn’t have been too happy about the sight or the smell of our rotting foodstuffs. One day, when I have my own little cottage in the countryside with a big garden full of trees and bushes and winding walkways, I will certainly go for a wooden bin, because then I can tuck it away at the bottom of the garden where it won’t upset anyone.

2. Apparently plastic composters also keep the heat in - because they are enclosed and, well, plastic - which speeds up the composting process. Although maybe that will also keep the worms and the bugs out, so it might be a bit of a catch 22.

In the meantime, until I have that garden with it’s winding pathways where I can plant a luscious vegetable patch, and while I love that I am reducing my landfill waste further, I am wondering what I am going to do with the compost itself. I don’t have any garden plants or vegetables, or anything growing per se, that I can put it on. I’m not particularly green-fingered - the one plant I was really proud of, a white cyclamen widely known within our household as ‘Plant’, was killed off for good in January when I forgot to bring it in from the snow.

And what if we have to move house – how on earth are we going to transport it? Plus we haven’t told our landlady about it, so I hope she won’t mind us temporarily destroying a small patch of her lawn.

But for now I am going to stop worrying, and start basking in the good that is composting. I am returning my waste to the earth’s system - now that’s what I call recycling.

Football Fever

2010-06-14T20:17:00.003+01:00

I've been thinking about football the last couple of days. I'm not a football fan, but it's kind of hard to ignore at the moment. I don't have anything against football, it just doesn't interest me - despite the men in shorts, I'd rather read a book or watch an episode of Gilmore Girls. But, like I say, I've been thinking about football - or, more precisely, footballs.

Pig's bladders 'r' us
What are footballs made of, I wondered? The everyday balls being touted in all the shops look distinctly plastic.

'Inflated pig's bladder,' Bron declares when I ask him about footballs. That's what he reckons the first ever balls were made from.

'I wonder what would happen if in the final of the World Cup, the ref came out onto pitch with an inflated pig's bladder for them play with?' I suggest. Can you imagine? It would be great!

Despite this unlikely scenario, I thought I'd put my investigation head on and find out what footballs really are made of. And, according to Wikipedia, although early commercial footballs were constructed of vulcanised rubber, today's balls are more likely to be leather or - yes, of course - plastic.

Synthetic Leather?
As for the official 2010 World Cup football, Addidas is responsible. It even has it's own name, the Jabulani. SoccerWorld is a font of information - blimey, who ever would have thought I'd be reading SoccerWorld! Their balls, including the Jabulani, are constructed of synthetic leather. Synthetic leather? What's that? Synthetic leather may be made in a variety of ways, but is typically PVC and polyurethane. Hmmm - synthetic leather? Why don't they just call it what it is? Plastic!

Packaging Psychology

2010-06-06T12:30:00.001+01:00

Looking through some of my earlier posts on this blog, I found a comment in ‘Post’ that reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend a couple of weeks ago: is there a perception that better items are those that are wrapped in plastic?

Picture our friends’ small back garden, half paved, half gravel, predominantly taken up by a trampoline, several small children, and a barbecue. All the men are customarily gathered around the wild fires said barbecue, talking man talk, and gradually turning small hunks of meat into charcoaled burgers.

‘These are only cheap burgers,’ announces Bron’s best mate, P. ‘You can tell from the box,’ he says, nodding towards the discarded packaging at his feet.

Hmm, I think. Looks like a pretty good box to me. Paper, no plastic wrapping in sight, though I suppose that may have already made its way to the bin.

Despite my normal reticence when it comes to discussing plastic with friends, I can’t resist this particular opportunity.

‘What kind of packaging would you say expensive burgers come in then?’ I ask.

‘Well, the design of the box,’ he tells me. ‘The graphics, the colours. Plus the burgers would be in a plastic tray or something inside. These were just in the box as they are.’

So more packaging - and plastic packaging - equals better food? That is, assuming that more expensive also equals better. How did we come to have this mindset? Advertising, marketing; we’re right back to the debate about consumer society, how businesses manipulate us, and how we fall for it. Every day.

How can we break this vicious circle? I wonder. I see two possibilities:

1. The power of the individual. Those who are clued in, like you and me, try not to buy into it. If enough of us do it, eventually companies will notice demand for their products are falling. And teach our children the better path. The problem with this is that it’s a very long, very hard road, and I worry that any changes it effects will be too late to make a difference in terms of sustainable living – will resources hit crisis point first?

2. A change of heart by those who hold the top of the strings. In recent years, lots of companies have clued into the fact that consumers respond well to green credentials, so these are used more and more in advertising today. If these credentials are genuine, great. But how often do we get to see the whole picture? Of course, it is a start, but what I’d really like to see happen is for every business, and the government to boot, to stop telling us we need to buy their products in the first place, and why theirs is the best thing since sliced bread. Well, I can dream, can’t I?

A Plastic Mystery

2010-05-30T12:59:00.001+01:00

There’s a strange phenomenon sweeping my village.

I am sitting here at the computer looking out at the small estate I live in. It’s a cool day today, the clouds are piling over, I’ve had to bring the washing in for fear of rain, and the leaves of the trees are blowing in the wind. But across the way there is a house with a plastic bag hanging out of each open upstairs window.

Although it’s the first time I’ve noticed it myself, apparently it’s been going on for a while.

‘We went to your house first,’ C tells me as she arrives at a mutual friend’s who has organised a small gathering. She rolls her eyes towards her boyfriend D; clearly the blame for this little error lies with him. ‘Nice house,’ she says. ‘But why do all your neighbours hang plastic bags out their windows?’

This, at the time, was news to me. Obviously I’m incredibly unobservant, though Bron clearly isn’t.

‘I don’t know,’ he tells her. ‘It’s weird isn’t it?’

Weird indeed. One house flying bags on a solo basis would be unusual, but for a whole street to do it? Am I missing something? Why? The only possible explanation I’ve come up with so far is that it’s to deter flies from going in the open windows. Which actually is quite a good idea, but I think perhaps I’d rather have the flies than the unsightly and noisy bag flapping outside my window. Unless there is something particularly dangerous or nasty about Cornish flies that I’m not aware of… But then, another viewpoint would be that at least these houses are reusing their plastic bags for some (useful?) purpose rather than binning them.

And so the phenomenon continues, as I am now a witness. Does anyone have any alternative theories?

Girly Stuff

2010-05-28T14:59:00.004+01:00

This is my exciting new purchase. Plastic-free, all natural panty pads. It even says plastic-free on the box. How cool is that?

I’ve been putting off the sanitary pad issue for a while now, partly out of denial, and partly because I thought I was going to have to go the re-useable route. I don’t have any issues with the re-useable route – I did some research into it a little while ago, and there are plenty of options out there, from the Mooncup for those who prefer tampon-type protection, to handmade pads by companies such as Minki and Imse Vimse. S, my eco-knowledgeable MA tutor, even hinted at the sew-your-own option.

There's chlorine in my panty pads?
Why use re-useable or natural pads? Clearly, re-useable means less waste, plastic or otherwise. But while this is obviously a big concern for me, there are other reasons too. Where the typical modern pad is concerned, it all comes down to the chemicals used to make them. And there’re a lot of chemicals.

The main function of sanitary pads is absorbency, and today this is typically achieved through the use of wood pulp. Not any old wood pulp, but chlorine bleached wood pulp.

There’s chlorine in my panty pads? I had no idea. But it gets worse… Think about all those adverts for Always or Bodyform that shout about how their pads are thinner yet more absorbent, so you can feel comfortable doing womanly things such as playing volleyball, or cycling in hot pants and a bikini. How do they make this so? By adding polyacrylate gels. Yes, there’s that word, ‘poly’ – a plastic. In addition to these gels, there’s a leak proof barrier of polyethylene, and even the main outer is composed of polypropylene.

This is a bit scary: I hadn’t realised the pad itself was full of plastic, I was only thinking of the packaging it comes wrapped in.

And the consequences? Other than the environmental concerns – from extraction and processing of the materials, 90% of which are petroleum products, to the problem of disposal – there are health ones. The high level of synthetic materials used causes many women thrush-like irritation, and the chlorine-bleaching of the core produces dioxin as a by-product, a chemical that is linked to cancer, endometriosis, and immune suppression. Yikes, and I’m putting this against one of the most sensitive areas of my body.

In the olden days
I’ve been thinking about what women used for their periods before the advent of the modern sanitary towel. And it is a modern thing, especially as far as the plastic content is concerned, which has only come into use in the last twenty-odd years, well within my lifetime. Rags seems to be the general answer, which basically brings me back to the suggestion of making my own pads.

I guess the modern pad is a reflection of modern life and, to an extent, the emancipation of women. Women have both the right and the ability to do everything men can do, and the tampon or panty pad helps us to see this through. Before they were around, women often had to remove themselves from society during their period, whether out of hygiene or because of their culture. And still do today in some parts of the world.

So panty pads are a good thing; they enable me to live an active life. But there’s no reason why they have to poison me or the environment in the meantime.

Me and mine
Why did I put off changing my sanitary towels for so long? Firstly, until I sat down to write this entry, I hadn’t realised how bad my ‘normal’ sanitary towels were. Secondly because – as always – I was put off by the cost of re-useable pads. I know it’s a one off cost so once you’ve got a set, that’s that, at least for a while, but to buy enough to get me through a period without having to wash them every single day is going to set me back in the region of £50. I know it makes more sense in the long-run to make this investment, but that half of my brain has trouble computing with the part that says, ‘But it’s £50!’

So, when I visited my eco-hippy friends C&D a couple of weeks ago, I had an epiphany:

‘D, what do you use for your period?’ I asked.

‘Natural pads,’ she said, rummaging in the corner of the room for a moment before reappearing with a box of Natracare. ‘It’s better if you don’t use tampons,’ she says. ‘And you should never use branded pads because of the blue stuff,’ referring to the colour the polyacrylate gels give the liners.

Well, that told me. And I think it’ll change my life. These new Natracare pads are so soft and comfortable I keep forgetting I’m even wearing them. Ironically, this makes them even more successful at female emancipation than the typical brands. Ultimately, my plan is still to go the re-useable route, but at least for now I’m not putting any plastic in the bin.

Yogurt

2010-05-23T14:44:00.007+01:00

One of the first things I gave up when I decided to try and reduce the plastic in my life was yogurt.

When I was little I never even liked yogurt, but it had gradually become a staple in my life with Bron, from the Muller Stars I had in my lunch box at work, to the tubs of natural yogurt we kept at home for making smoothies or cooling all the hot curries we used to eat. Surprisingly, though, it quickly became something we just didn't buy anymore, and didn't look to buy either, once the decision had been made.

And then this week I found these little yogurt treats in cute glass jars. Delicious too! Thank you Loseley.

The French Method
A couple of summers ago, Bron and I took a trip to Carcasonne in the south of France. We went with our friend M to help her look after another friend's backpacker's lodge for the week - not that Bron and I helped all that much in the end, choosing to beome paying guests and sleep in a wonderful log cabin rather than the dank basement provided for volunteers.

It was a wonderful holiday, beautiful weather, beautiful countryside, and delicious food. One of the things that struck me most, though, was the array of little glass jars in the French supermarkets. Where in England you would see shelves of plastic pots, the French use glass. Yogurt, puddings, fresh juice: all in glass. Easily cleaned, easily recycled, and easily reused. The lodge where we stayed, Sid's Mums, had shelves of empties of these pots in the kitchen for guests to use as drinking glasses; and use them we did.

So I was pretty excited when I found glass-potted yogurts tucked away in Cornwall. Bron seemed a little bewildered by my high levels of enthusiasm when I produced these yummy little pots from my shopping bag, though obviously he didn't have any qualms about eating them. And now the jars are washed out and sitting in the kitchen cupboard ready for their next calling. There is just one little catch: although the lids were foil, they were sealed with a small amount of tear-off plastic. Presumably this is to prevent tampering, etc, though I do wonder how necessary it is given that 'normal', plastic pots of yogurt don't require them. Besides, if the French can do it, why can't we?

The Home Method
Of course, I could always make my own yogurt at home if I wanted to. It would be fun to try one day, but for this weekend at least I'm going to be lazy, sit back and enjoy the spring sunshine.

Do I Feel Proud?

2010-05-14T13:11:00.000+01:00

After spending my week cooped up in front of the computer preparing various pieces of coursework for my MA, last weekend I decided it was time to do some baking. I was dreaming of cake.

Just one problem: no baking ingredients! So I was a bad girl and ran off to the local Morrison’s supermarket. It was unsightly and it was heaving with people. But I still came out feeling rather proud of myself. Why? Because out of the trolley full of goods I wound up buying, only two of them included any form of plastic. And I’m not just talking plastic containers or bottles, there were no plastic lids on glass jars, and no plastic film sealing things up tight.

I bought foil trays rather than plastic pouches of cat food – I do try to buy the foil trays whenever I can, but when they’re full price and the pouches are on offer, it can be hard to turn down the saving. I bought some tinned tomatoes, some tins of coconut milk, some beer. And I went for the organic option wherever I could too: organic flour, organic squash, organic chicken for Bron.

So what were my two failures? Well, the chicken, unfortunately. But I haven’t yet found a way to get fresh meat and fish that doesn’t involve plastic, and I can’t imagine ever being able to persuade Bron to go veggie like me. He is a carnivore through and through.

Secondly, a little bag of mixed nuts – I know, I know, far from a necessity, but the cake recipe called for them, and as it was a new recipe I didn’t know whether it work without them. It would’ve, but hey, I know that for the future now. The cake was yummy, and I still feel proud.

Food for Thought

2010-05-09T16:33:00.004+01:00

Last night while I was watching T.V. – or rather skipping up and down the channels trying to convince myself that at least something was worth watching (it wasn’t) – I came across a new advert for Kenco coffee.

‘We tried 100% less,’ the crooning voice of Joanna Lumley says, to the accompaniment of pictures of people walking around trying to carry coffee granules in their hands, their bags, their bras.

‘But in the end we settled for 97% less.’

97% less. That’s not bad, now, is it? And how have they done this? With the new ‘eco-refill’ of course. Yes, I now have the option of buying my coffee in a re-sealable plastic pouch instead of a glass jar. So this is a good thing, right? Of course it’s a good thing; thinking carefully about and reducing packaging is always a good thing.

But there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. The type of plastic this pouch is made from isn’t currently recyclable in the UK.

Defining waste reduction
Waste is measured in tonnage, so when it comes to rethinking packaging many companies focus purely on this aspect, the weight. And the problem with this is that plastic is almost always lighter than any other form of packaging material, which is one of the reasons why so much of our food is packaged in plastic today. But of course this fails to account for the fact that plastic is much, much harder to get rid of than most other forms of packaging. In which case, how helpful is this singular approach?

The Waste and Resources Action Programme, ‘WRAP’, launched phase 1 of the Courtauld Commitment in 2005, ‘looking at new solutions and technologies so that less food, products and packaging ends up as household waste’. They’ve made a lot of progress, which anyone can read about on their website in this series of case studies. Retailers are making boxes and bottles smaller, reducing the thickness of glass, film and aluminium, switching from bottles to bags and plastic trays to film. And reducing packaging in this way has other environmental benefits too: making the packaging uses less energy and fewer resources, plus less carbon emissions when delivering the finished products to the stores.

But then there’s the plastic issue. Does swapping from a glass bottle that can be recycled anywhere in the country, to a plastic bottle that can’t be recycled reduce waste? Working on the basis that everyone does recycle everything they can - ok, I know I’m dreaming here and it’s not the case, but it should be the end plan, shouldn’t it? Well, working on the basis that maybe, one day, this will be the case – the glass bottle won’t be waste because it’ll be recycled, but the plastic jar or pouch will be, because it’s much harder to recycle.

Thumbs up
I give my thumbs up to Quality Street. First, they reduced the size of their tins enough to save 237 tonnes of steel a year. And then they made the individual sweet wrapper compostable. Genius! And it's good for me because now I can go out and buy some Quality Street. Yummy!

Thumbs up too to Jacob’s cheese biscuits. They’ve switched from a non-recyclable plastic tub to a 100% recyclable cardboard box for their big selection pack, replaced the inner tray with one that is recyclable, and introduced non polycoated cardboard for other products in the range.

Celebrations, though, I’m not so sure about. They’ve switched from a tin to a plastic tub for their chocolates. Ok, they’ve rather cleverly made the tub dishwasher, microwave, and freezer proof, but still at the end of its life it’ll wind up in the landfill rather than going to a scrap metal agent. And, while they’ve reduced their transport packaging by 87% by replacing corrugated card with shrink wrap, the shrink wrap can’t be reused or recycled after use.

The counter argument
Kenco supports its eco-refill pouch by reminding it’s users that the lid on the old glass jars couldn’t be widely recycled either - the new packaging weighs less than the former lid did, so the eco-refill does mean less waste going to landfill. Secondly, they remind us that 40% of glass doesn’t get recycled anyway. And third, Kenco has partnered with a company that can recycle the pouches – send them three or more empty pouches and they’ll make a stunning, Kenco incorporated notebook, pencil case or umbrella for you.

So they have thought it all through quite carefully. But I wonder what the other options are? Creating a lightweight lid for the jar that can be recycled? Reducing the thickness of the jar to reduce its weight, like the Co-operative have with their own-brand ales and spirits? I wonder how many people are going to save up their refill pouches and post them off? How many are going to want a Kenco-branded umbrella or two?

Food for thought
Maybe I’m a cynic. Ok, I am a cynic. But I will re-iterate my earlier statement: reducing packaging is a good thing, and should always be a good thing. But maybe there are good ways and not-so-good ways to go about it. Balance is a word that comes to mind - but is it right to settle for the lesser evil? Why not go for perfect first time out? Maybe when it comes to packaging there is no such thing as perfect.

The Story of Stuff

2010-04-23T20:22:00.003+01:00

Is Annie Leonard the Rachel Carson for our generation?

Her new book, The Story of Stuff, carries the subtitle, 'How our problem with overconsumption is trashing the planet, our communities and our health'. That about sums it up, I think. Published here in the UK at the end of May, it should prove to be a very interesting read.

It all started with this little animation on YouTube... This basically confirms everything I was afraid of about consumer society. There's one or two things in there that I didn't either, like the fact that this was all planned! It must be a conspiracy theorist's heaven.

What the story made me think of most is Rachel Carson. Rachel Carson was the herald of the green roots environmental movement and her book, Silent Spring (which I have just finished reading) was instrumental in bringing to the world's attention the fact the pesticides and insecticides were poisoning the world. Perhaps it's an exaggeration to suggest that Annie Leonard is the new Rachel Carson, but what she has to say has the same importance and we should all be listening.

Watch the video, read the book, and take a look at her website, Storyofstuff.org

Message in the Waves

2010-04-13T18:33:00.002+01:00

Message in the Waves is a film made by the BBC Natural History Unit that set out to look at some of the environmental challenges facing Hawaii.

And what did they find? Well, plastic of course.

You can read about the making of the documentary, watch a trailer, and download a copy of it on the Message in the Waves website.

One of the team behind the documentary, Rebecca Hosking, was so appalled by what she saw during filming that it inspired her to launch a campaign in her home town of Modbury to ban the plastic bag. In May 2007 they became the first town in the UK to achieve this, and their actions have inspired many others to follow suit.

What about your town? Can you inspire them to do the same? There is all sorts of information out there to help, from Rebecca's book, Ban the Plastic Bag, to advice from the Marine Conservation Society, and their guide on being plastic free.

Fistral Beach Clean

2010-04-08T21:17:00.002+01:00

“You couldn’t have picked a better day,” I tell Imogen.

The sun is shining and the sky is blue as far as the eye can see, with only a wisp of cloud here and there. It is the first week of March and the first hint of spring is in the air; sitting in the car and looking out, it could easily be the height of summer, the illusion only broken by the cool air when you step outside. I am here on Fistral Beach in Newquay, surfer’s paradise, to take part in my first official beach clean.

The short stretch of straight road that leads to the car park has been inlaid with some sort of mineral that sparkles in the sunlight as you drive down it, creating a mesmerising approach. As I pull into the sand-blown car park, I am looking for anyone that looks as if they may be preparing to collect rubbish, but see no-one so decide to sit and wait to see who appears. In the distance there are one or two specks in the sea that could be surfers, and there are three shivering dudes wrapped in fleeces, standing with sandy surfboards just across from me. Soon, three girls emerge from a nearby car, each wearing a black fleece advertising Cornwall College. These must be the people I’m looking for.

Imogen is older than I was expecting – her college email address suggested student status – though she is no older than I am. She is a teacher at the Newquay college, and leader of the Newquay branch of team green. Until today we have only exchanged emails regarding meeting times for the clean-up parade. She looks very young to be a teacher, but I have to remind myself that I am certainly old enough to be one, even if I don’t feel like it, perhaps because teaching is such a grown-up job.

The long, crescent moon shape of the beach is exaggerated by the low tide, washing away at a distance. The surf is calm, flat, quietly breaking in the background. Four or five people are walking their dogs or enjoying the sunshine, but generally the beach is quiet and peaceful, with just the gentle swish of the sea. I am surprised to note a complete absence of seagulls. This is a very different beach to the tourist packed Fistral of high summer with screeching and giggling children, teenagers playing Frisbee, cricket, or football, and radios blaring.

Imogen hands me a plethora of bits and bobs: a pen, a record sheet, a clip-board, plastic gloves, and a bin bag. Because the information collected today will be passed to MCS (The Marine Conservation Society), it’s important to record everything we pick up. The record sheet is a form, detailing all the possible different items that might be found today, from plastic bottles and bottle tops to packaging, rope, nails, wire and – heaven forbid – condoms and tampons. Despite the fact that plastic items take up almost half of the form, I’m interested to note that plastic bags aren’t included. I wonder what this means: is it rare to find plastic bags in these cleans, or is it some strange oversight?

“Don’t touch dog poo,” she tells us. “And don’t touch anything biological.”

Most of the other people here seem to have come in twos or threes and know each other. There are several of Imogen’s students, and I am introduced to Amy, Cornwall College’s environmental manager. A chap from Serco is also here, and shortly after we start litter picking Dom from the SAS (Surfers Against Sewage) arrives, accompanied by his very boisterous Springer spaniel, Bob. Bob likes to bark and to run around, trying to convince everyone to play with him; he seems very excited to be here. We make 12 people altogether.

Imogen pairs me with Amy; Amy writes down on the form what we are collecting as I pick it up and put it in the bag. She is nice, easy to talk to, and I feel comfortable working with her and with my surroundings. I was worried I wouldn’t be. We find an easy rhythm, although we soon get bored of calling out the same things - plastic lid, foamy stuff, nylon string - and soon there’s a small competition developing between us and her two friends who are picking nearby. Who can find the most interesting items?

As well as the expected plastic and polystyrene, we find nails, barbed wire, and a pair of nail clippers. Even though Amy discovers an abandoned barbecue buried in the sand, complete with discarded food tins and beer cans, her friends win hands down with their shoe, light bulb, and half-decayed fish, complete with enormous teeth.

The sun stays with us, and it’s almost like a leisurely stroll along the beach, chatting and joking with everyone. As I pull a long stretch of orange string from the sand, Bob spies it and grabs it; we have a wresting match, much to his enjoyment. We find a lot of broken glass, but only one nurdle, perhaps because I’m not looking close enough, or perhaps because there are no rocks for them to shelter against in the area where we’re picking.

Two and a half hours later we take our black plastic bin bags back to the car-park to be weighed. Between us we have collected 42kg of mixed rubbish, plus an extra 15kg that is just metal and glass. The 42kg is contained in a half dozen bin bags while the glass and metal takes up just one small bowling bag.

This is interesting. Plastic is generally quite light, so even if there are more pieces of plastic, the weight compared to the same amount of glass or paper can be less. Commercial packaging waste is often discussed in terms of tonnage: making things with plastic reduces waste in terms of weight, which seems like a good thing when you see the numbers. Except for the part where plastic never returns to the natural environment, never breaks down, never disappears.

This is one small beach on one day, with just one dozen people picking a small area. Multiply that and it gets scary. Why are we doing this to ourselves and our world?

Happy Easter Chocolate Snufflers

2010-04-04T13:16:00.012+01:00

What does Easter mean to you? A religious celebration, the start of spring, some extra time off work? Or chocolate, chocolate, chocolate?

Over Packaged?
The ‘chocolate, chocolate, chocolate’ scenario is definately my forte. But over-packaging is a term that has become synonymous with Easter chocolate over recent years.

A typical chocolate egg in my mind includes: chocolate treats suspended in a plastic bag inside the chocolate egg, the egg wrapped in foil and then encased in a protective plastic mould that is nigh-on impossible to break into, the whole package topped off with an oversize cardboard box. Did you ever open out the box from an Easter egg in years gone past? They always had what must surely be the most complicated design in the world.

According to WRAP, over 3000 tonnes of waste is produced by Easter packaging each year, and in a poll conducted by Packaging in Perspective in 2009, 59% of British adults thought Easter eggs were over-packaged.

Madness! Madness!
When I was little, Easter was measured by the number of eggs I received. More eggs meant not only more chocolate, but more people who loved me, and a better standing with my friends when I got back to school after the holidays, ‘How many did you get?’ being the typical first greeting on re-entering the playground. I had no qualms about eating them – still don’t – but my big brother would save and save his to the point where Christmas would come around and he’d still have a chocolate bunny sitting on his bookshelf. What was the packaging like on these eggs? I don’t honestly remember – what was inside was always considerably more important, after all - so when did it begin? And is it just a UK thing, or are all western countries obsessed with over-sanitising their chocolate?

There is light at the end of the tunnel
‘Smarties have got plastic-free Easter eggs!’ Bron announced on his return from a shopping expedition a few weeks ago.

‘Are you sure?’ I asked, thinking it just doesn’t sound right. Maybe he was mistaken.

‘Well, it says on their packaging, ‘Plastic Free!’’

Huh, well that’s quite surprising and interesting. ‘Ooh, I’ll have to get one,’ was my immediate thought. ‘And then I can blog about it!’

Tempting as it was, I didn’t immediately rush out to buy one, but next time I walked into Sainsbury’s there they were, a big pallet of Easter eggs ready to greet me right inside the front door, piled high above my head, and each individual egg shouting, ‘Plastic Free!’ ‘Plastic Free!’ Of course, the slight irony here is that the pallet was still wrapped in thick plastic cling-film to keep all the eggs from falling off and scattering at my feet, but I guess you can’t have everything.

The Smarties Way
So if Smarties, care of Nestle, have seen the light and realised that chocolate eggs can survive the retail experience without copious plastic support, why hasn’t it been done before? Apparently commercial egg-makers were concerned that less packaging would make eggs look smaller. Smaller eggs equals less attractive to customers; being less attractive equals fewer sales. Seems a bit silly really, especially when you see this little video detailing consumer reactions to plastic-free eggs, care of The Zero Waste Checkout.

Furthermore, in an era where, at my guess, around 95% of chocolate and confectionary on the high street shelves have switched from classic paper wrappers to plastic, the Easter egg is not the only Smarties product to be plastic-free. In 2005 they switched from a tube with a plastic lid to simple cardboard.

Happy Easter
Thankfully, Smarties are not the only ones to be jumping on this particular bandwagon. Pictured here is my Easter gift this year from my parents, beautifully plastic free (Mummy, Daddy, maybe next year you could buy a plastic-free egg for everybody rather than just me?). And in 2009, Cadbury’s, Marks and Spencer, and Mars also took steps towards a plastic free Easter in the future; baby steps perhaps, but at least it’s a start.

P.S. Read about the Courtauld Commitment to learn more about which retailers are doing what to reduce their packaging.

The Printer Catastrophe

2010-04-02T13:24:00.001+01:00

I’m going to go back through time today, over the seconds, minutes, hours and days, way back to October 2009. It is portfolio time again for my MA in Professional Writing. Time to smarten up those sentences, tidy up my punctuation, and add some spirit to the submission I have been working on, before printing out two copies of the 30 odd pages and binding them together ready for the hand-in date.

But no, disaster has struck: my faithful printer has run out of ink! Oh how grateful I am to you, Amazon, for being one click away on my mouse, and enabling me to instantly buy the replacement cartridges. And there are even people on your website that offer remanufactured cartridges so I don’t have to feel bad about consuming the resource that is plastic. Not only cheaper on my pocket, but better for the environment. Perfect.

Life never quite works out how you expect it to, though, does it? Or at least, not like you want it to. First of all, I ordered a coloured and a black cartridge, but the kindly marketplace buyer from whom I purchased them considerately and helpfully sent me two coloured cartridges instead. ‘Well, that’s ok,’ I thought. ‘I won’t make a fuss, I’ll just save the second one for next time, and get another black for now.’

Ah yes, what a simple idea.

The coloured cartridge wouldn’t work in the printer. Bron had to follow a set of carefully written instructions enclosed with the cartridge on how to persuade my printer that yes, this cartridge really is compatible, its not a lie. Eventually the printer was convinced, but it meant that the printer controls were unable to read the ink levels, and it rather put me off the idea of remanufactured cartridges. So when it came to my second attempt at purchasing a black cartridge, that little voice in my head told me to stick to a normal, new cartridge rather than a fancy recycled one. Shamefully, I listened. Not that it did me any good. I don’t know why, but it turns out that installing an official printer cartridge alongside a remanufactured one is a really bad idea. Printer non comprende. Printer kaput.

At this point, having already spent over £50 on cartridges, I couldn’t face the idea of having to buy another, new coloured one, and discard the two recycled ones. And only with the vague possibility that that would actually fix the problem. So my printer sat, tucked away under the computer desk, refusing to work, for two and half months.

And so it would probably remain, if Bron, bless his cotton socks, hadn’t surprised me by buying a brand new printer for Christmas. It seems rather terrible to say it, actually: that instead of trying to solve the problem a new one was purchased to replace the old. Very modern living, very consumer society. I do have some feelings of badness and feelings of guilt over this, but my new printer is lovely and sleek and shiny, and it does – so far, at least – what I ask it to. Which is more than I can say for the old one, now consigned to the attic.

But I also can’t help but see the irony in the situation: I tried to do good, to do the environmental thing and use recycled or remanufactured cartridges. And it wound up costing the environment more than if I hadn’t tried.

The Shopping Dilemma

2010-03-26T14:34:00.003Z

Is it possible to not go food or household shopping ever again?

Reason One
‘Can I have some money please?’ seems to be my constant refrain to Bron these days. Poor chap, I really don’t like having to ask for it, and I’m sure he’s fairly sick of me always asking.

‘I can’t help it,’ was his hushed and irritated response yesterday evening when I pointed out the fact that April’s rent has now been removed from my bank account, but he has yet to finish giving me his share of March’s rent.

However, it did get me thinking: if Bron can’t afford to give me the rent, never mind his share of the shopping bills, then clearly we’re living outside of our means. Therefore, we (or I) should not be buying the things I do. Hence no more shopping ever again.

And, the more I think about it, the more I realise this would make a rather nice solution to everything.

Reason Two
As a general estimate, I reckon that I’ve reduced my plastic intake by at least half since last summer. I think this is fairly good going, but I know there’s still a long way to go, especially as I’m now getting onto the trickier things. For instance, although I only buy sauces in glass bottles, they still come with plastic lids; and pasta and rice always come packaged in plastic, but they’re such staples in our diet that it’s very hard to contemplate cutting them out.

If I stopped going shopping altogether, would Bron and I be forced to find alternatives? How long until we gave in?

Reason Three
I recently read the fantastic book Real England by Paul Kingsnorth. This investigates the multitude of ways in which corporate blandness and big business are taking over England, the English countryside, and English culture. Supermarkets are a huge part of this, and the inner workings of the minds who run them are officially scary. They are about as close to real evil as anything can get, in my book. If I keep on shopping there then I’m literally buying into and supporting this mindset, and effectively destroying my no-longer-quite-so-sturdy British heritage.

But if I stop shopping then what will we eat? Well, we still get fruit, vegetables, and eggs from Riverford, and we’ve got a cupboard full of tins that will take a little while to work through. Ideally, what I’d like to do is break our habits and go back to the absolute basics, all of which I know I can get from local health stores.

My real reason, secret and shameful though it may be
I wonder how long it will take before Bron notices that I’m no longer shopping? Perhaps then he’ll take the hint that if he can still afford to go out and buy the amount of tobacco, beer and wine that he does, then he really should be giving me the rent money first. I can’t decide, though, whether this makes me more practical housewife, or more bitch.

Quick Tips for Reducing Plastic

2010-03-24T18:33:00.002Z

1. Always take your own bags with you when you go shopping

2. Use solid beauty products, e.g. deodorant and shampoo

3. Use soap instead of shower gel

4. Join a vegetable box scheme

5. Never buy prepared or ready meals, instead cook from scratch using the lovely vegetables from the veg box

6. Buy products in glass rather than plastic containers (e.g. like squash or tomato sauce); believe it or not, they usually taste better

7. Avoid plastic containers by buying butter instead of margarine and not buying food such as yogurt

8. Find a friendly local baker to get bread from

9. Source a local store health store that provides refills for household chemicals such as washing up liquid

10. Use laundry powder instead of a liquid detergent for your washing

Out with the Old?

2010-03-14T16:46:00.003Z

This week Bron and I have consigned the following items to the local dump:
• One toaster (only toasts if I hold the bread down by hand)
• One microwave (paint peeling off and rust growing inside the oven)
• One vacuum cleaner (actually burst into flames when I turned it on; granted they were small flames, but it was still enough to make me run shrieking from the room)

I am a conundrum
The act of throwing these items away has brought to my attention that I’m a bit of a conundrum. Yes, me.

(A) I don’t like mess. Everything must have its proper home where it is tucked away out of sight when it’s not in use. If it has no use or aesthetical value anymore, then it shouldn’t be in my house.
(B) But I don’t like throwing things away that still have a function. It just feels wrong.

The toaster still worked even though I had to hold the bread down for it to toast, the microwave still did an excellent job regardless of the fact that it was possibly poisoning me in the process, and the vacuum looked on the outside as if it was perfectly fine, apart from the burning smell. Yet the act of throwing them into the big metal dumpster at the waste and recycling centre made me feel completely and utterly guilty, as if I was committing some hideous and unspeakable crime. Is this just me? Is it right to feel guilty?

What happened to ‘Make Do and Mend’?
I live in an inherently throwaway society. Everyone around me is throwing away the old and unwanted, replacing it with the new and shiny. It’s what the world of corporate marketing is telling me to do everywhere I look, and I often feel that goods today are not made to last – everything is designed to be used once, twice, three times, and then abandoned. Both the vacuum cleaner and the microwave were less than three years old, and I honestly believe they should have had a lot more life left in them. Perhaps that is why throwing them away felt so wrong.

My parents were both of the post war generation, and ‘make do and mend’ was the motto of their childhood. Although I’m from a different generation, I was still brought up within a similar concept, up to a point at least. Where did it all change, I wonder? Is it possible to get back to it? And how extreme will the triggering factor have to be?

The redeeming factor
The one thing that makes me feel better about throwing away these things is the fact that I have not replaced them with new ones. Not brand new ones, anyway. In this context I can almost convince myself that the manufacturers and marketing consultants have not won; I have not succumbed to their cunning salesmanship this time. This is thanks to my cousins, who are emigrating to the states and in the act of clearing out their house have donated their toaster, microwave, Dyson (ahhh, a Dyson!), bread maker, speaker system, garden spade, and several Xbox games to the worthy of cause of Bron and me. Ok, so I know that they’ll be buying new replacements for most of it when they reach their new home, but at least it wasn’t me who had to!

The 'I Deserve It' Feeling

2010-03-12T13:56:00.004Z

A blog I like to read, 365 Days of Trash, recently pointed me towards this amusing article by the Onion, How Bad for the Environment can Throwing Away One Plastic Bottle Be?

I find this farcical approach to be incredibly revealing, not just about everyone else out there in the big wide western world, but also about myself.

"It's not like I don't care, because I do, and most of the time I don't even buy bottled water," thought Missouri school teacher Heather Delamere, the 450,000th caring and progressive individual to have done so that morning, and the 850,000th to have purchased the environmentally damaging vessel due to being thirsty, in a huge rush, and away from home. "It's really not worth beating myself up over."

How many times have I thought these exact same thoughts? Far too many times is the simple answer. Especially lately. It’s that, “Well I’m normally so good and I’ve had a really hard week and I haven’t had anything like this for ages so I really deserve it,” feeling. The real concern for me is the frequency that this has been popping into my mind of late. That plastic treat in my weekly shopping has become two treats, three, four; it’s almost as if I’m trying to buy plastic, not trying NOT to buy it. Oops.

There are two ways to look at it.

1. Everyone else out there is buying plastic and throwing it away, so what difference is it really going to make if I stop doing it? It’s like taking out one very small piece of straw from the middle of a haystack that’s the size of my house. So, why should I bother?

2. But if everyone, or even half of everyone, stopped buying plastic and throwing it away again, then that would make a very real difference. And someone has to start the ball rolling somewhere: there’s no reason why I can’t be that someone. Besides, I already know I’m not the only someone. Eventually – I hope – the snowball will take hold.

A Mobile Quandary, Part 3

2010-03-07T16:16:00.003Z

I have committed an evil deed.

Over the last few weeks I have been conducting an internal argument with myself over the ethical and environmental considerations of replacing my mobile phone: a mobile quandary, and a mobile quandary, part two. Tragically, this weekend temptation got the better of me, and I am the guilty new owner of a posh touch screen phone. I know, I’m sorry, but it was just so much prettier than the eco version. I’m bad. Very bad.

Out with the Old
But what to do with my old phone now that it’s life with me is at an end? I don’t like throwing away what is essentially still a usable piece of technology, never mind the hideous impact such an act is likely to have on the environment.

Anybody who watches TV on a frequent basis is bound to have seen one of the many adverts that seem to be being constantly rolled out on how to exchange your old phone for money. I’ve got to admit this is tempting. Firstly, though, I don’t think any of the phones I’ve got kicking around in my drawers are going to be worth that much. Secondly, what do they do with them? I suppose they must reuse the parts somehow, otherwise their business wouldn’t exactly be a viable one. A second option could be to send the phone back to the original manufacturer, though the latter question applies here too. And – stingy as I am – I’m not too keen on the idea of enabling this wealthy multinational company to make even more money.

Mud Between Your Toes
No, I’ve decided: if I’m going to be bad and get a new phone, the least I can do is try to enable someone less well off than myself to benefit, rather than the other way around. So I’m going to send my old phone, and the others I’ve been saving up over the years, to the Eden Project. They’ve teamed up with an initiative called Corporate Mobile Recycling (CMR) to recycle phones and convert the money received for them into donations for environmental causes, specifically Mud Between Your Toes, an educational programme designed to get children out of their houses and exploring the natural environment. Actually, I’ve got a suspicion that this programme is run by my MA cohort, Philip Waters. Go Philip.

Here is what CMR actually do with the phones they receive. Though I wonder how I can get my hands on one of these reused phones? I don’t recall having ever seen them in the shops.

And if you’re not too sure about Mud Between Your Toes, there are plenty of other charities who would like to recycle your phone as well, from Oxfam to the Woodland trust.

I Recycle, Therefore I Am

2010-03-04T22:45:00.001Z

These three, stackable, white plastic trays are our recycling corner. They are the only real evidence we have of our – or, at least, my – attempts to live a more eco lifestyle. In today’s western world, in the average household to recycle is to be all you can be to the environmental movement. I recycle, therefore I am.

The boxes sit, inert, on top of our small grey freezer in the kitchen corner, tucked away behind the door, hidden and yet visible for all to see. They are solid and they are stable, much like we expect our waste and our recycling collection services to be. They were bought from Argos, a store that is the epitome of warehouse catalogue shopping, a place I had never set foot in until I met and moved in with Bron. Cheap and cheerful, plastic central. No offence, Bron.

In our old home, we dreamed of these boxes. Of somewhere neat and tidy to put our bottles, paper, tin cans, and plastic trays. To keep this pile of rubbish, of unwanted material, out of sight and out of mind instead of thrown on the floor at the side of the sofa, waiting to be tripped over, and waiting to be sorted and tidied into rain-soaked plastic bags outside the back door. These boxes are our recycling salvation and I look upon them with pride.

Plastic bottles, lids, and odd bits and pieces are unceremoniously added to the top box on a daily basis, along with tin cans and, this week at least, foil trays emptied of Felix cat food. Carefully lifted down on a Tuesday evening, it is emptied into a large purple, plastic bag by Bron’s strong hands. The box returns, empty, to its lofty heights just below the kitchen ceiling, while the purple bag takes up its place on the front lawn, alongside a clear bag of paper and card, a green one of bottles, and the obligatory black bin bag. It’s always a surprise to see how few of our neighbours produce as many full and coloured bags as we do. Are they failing in their environmental duty? Can they just not be bothered to recycle? Or perhaps we are the failures. What if these neighbours, somehow, manage to produce less waste than us?

This is where my doubts kick in. How much of what I’m sending off with the recycling men actually gets recycled? The glass, the paper, the plastic, does it actually get to become something new, or is it going to wind up on the side of the road in a suburb of India? ‘Check with your local authority,’ packaging tells us now; and ‘All plastic is recyclable,’ yell the industry execs, but I can’t help but wonder how much of it really is in practical terms.

And so these three, stackable, white plastic trays link me to the products I put in them, to the food industry, the beauty industry, to consumer society. They link me to Bron, to the dustbin men, to the Council, to the rest of the country and the factories where my plastic goes to be sorted out, melted down, and made into new things.

They are the central causeway; they are the eye of the storm.

Totes and Tote Tags

2010-02-27T12:54:00.001Z

‘Are we supposed to be keeping those?’ someone at work asks me, pointing to a little pot full of yellow and green plastic tags sitting on my desk.

‘No,’ I say, ‘But I’m trying to collect them.’

These tags are from the new boxes that the shop’s deliveries come in. Goodbye cardboard and tape, hello blue plastic totes.

Gritting my teeth, I prepare for the inevitable follow-up question: ‘Why?’

I’m going to be deliberately vague; I don’t feel like explaining myself in too much detail on this particular day. ‘Just to see how many I can get,’ I say.

Every tote has four tags. On average, we receive forty totes a day, five days a week; more at Christmas. That’s eight hundred little inch-long plastic tags a week. And there are three hundred stores in the company I work for. The math on that one is pretty scary: 240,000 each week. Or 12,480,000 in a year; twelve million, four hundred and eighty thousand. I can’t help but wonder where on earth they’re all going to go.

People put them in the bin or in the little collecting pot I’ve got going. They get spread across the floor, both in the stockroom and in the shop, where they get in the way of book trolleys, prams and pushchairs. Or they get thrown back into the bottom of the totes they’ve come from in the first place.

As the weeks go by the totes coming into the store develop a layer of plastic tags along the bottom, damaging the books that have been thrown in on top, sticking between the pages. I picture the day when I’ll open a tote to find it full of just these plastic tags, and not a book in sight.

What a strange system to have devised. The company’s new ‘Hub’ – a central warehouse where all publishers deliver orders to be sorted, repackaged and sent out to stores in one bulk delivery – is supposed to streamline the business. There is less cardboard coming into the store, sure, but that’s only because it all goes to the Hub instead. And it’s quite likely that there is less road mileage, as each publisher makes one delivery to the Hub rather than delivering direct to three hundred stores. That can only be a good thing. But all these plastic tags? What a classic example of corporate business failing to see the bigger picture.

A Mobile Quandary, part 2

2010-02-21T18:33:00.004Z

I wrote a few weeks ago about my mobile quandary: my current mobile phone is on its last legs and, as hard as I try, I can’t envisage my life without a mobile phone these days. Especially given as my landline has, for no apparent reason, randomly decided to give up the ghost.

The Bamboo Alternative
I mentioned before that I didn’t think it was possible to get a phone that wasn’t plastic. It still isn’t possible for me to get one, but a little further research has revealed that such phones do exist, thanks to the wonder of bamboo. In fact, it seems that there are several different versions of bamboo phones out there in the internet ether. There is the wind-up bamboo phone which won the 2008 Greener Gadgets design competition, or the Chute Smartphone by Michael Laut. Problem is, there doesn’t seem to be any way to actually buy one of these, though I’m sure it would cost me a good chunk of my month’s rent even I could. But they’re very pretty and sound like they have excellent eco credentials, so if anyone knows how I can get my hands on one please do tell me.

Eco Options
It also turns out that Sony Ericksson are not the only phone manufacturers testing out the eco waters. Nokia, Samsung, and Motorola have all been up to it as well. I particularly recommend taking a look at the Nokia site, if only for an example of a beautiful piece of marketing and presentation. And it does the job: I want one of these phones. A pity that it’s several years old and now appears to be obsolete. At least, no network I can find lists this particular phone, the 3110 Evolve, as being available.

But…
What each of these phones have in common is the use of bioplastics, plastic engineered from plants, such as corn, rather than from petrochemicals. While this is generally a good thing, bioplastics have their own problems too, and are not as clear-cut environmentally friendly as many people would like to think. Perhaps the most obvious of these is the use of what would otherwise be a food crop for constructing technology. Is this ethical given the number of people in the world who don’t have enough to eat?

Either way, the question I asked before has changed slightly. If everyone has the capability to produce mobiles that are at least slightly more environmentally considerate – as a mobile phone goes, anyhow – then why not apply this technology to all phones?

Babies!

2010-02-17T18:20:00.003Z

My best friend, B, just had her first baby. A beautiful little girl with a shock of dark hair weighing in at a nice seven pounds plus. It’s very exciting. Well, it’s exciting for me – as a young woman of certain breeding age that is surrounded by friends and colleagues having babies left, right, and centre. Literally.

What does B having a baby mean? Presents! Off I toddled to Mothercare in search of that perfect gift. Boy was I disappointed. Plastic, plastic, plastic. I swear practically everything in that shop was covered in plastic or had some sort of plastic accoutrement attached to it. Why would I want to surround a delicate newborn child with this nasty and often toxic substance?

It’s no secret in my household that, to Bron’s increasing terror, I’m getting a bit broody. And it makes me wonder, what on earth am I going to do when/if I am lucky enough to have a baby one day? Can you get baby bottles that aren’t plastic? What did mothers used to do? Just breastfeed until the babies were weaned? What about babies that had trouble breastfeeding? Did they just have to struggle on without? Maybe these questions are terribly naïve, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have to research the child rearing methods of South American rainforest tribes, find out how they do it. I don’t think I’ll suggest this to B, though – after a 60 hour labour she might just keel over in shock.

Meanwhile, thank goodness for the local businesses that survive in my local town. There are two wonderful children’s shops full of a more traditional style of toy and mother’s goodies, Laurie’s Toybox and Mums and Little Ones. After considerable deliberation I chose a beautiful, soft rabbit-come-snuggle-blanket for baby E, made by Moulin Roty. No plastic labels, no plastic packaging, just a lovely chunky cardboard presentation box. I hope both B and E like it; I quite fancy one for myself.

Bron Gets the Message?

2010-02-14T13:46:00.002Z

‘I bought this entirely based on it’s packaging,’ Bron tells me, holding up a six pack of beer.

Yes! I think. Does this mean he’s finally starting to get the idea?

‘Well, and because they were cheap,’ he adds.

Ok, I guess that was inevitable, but at least he still chose the plastic-free ones. He goes on to tell me he had three options, going by the price: a four pack of cans, which were held together with those horrid plastic rings that are always pictured in the news getting wrapped around some poor creature’s neck. Or there was another brand, which was entirely cased in plastic and so even worse.

So, congratulations to the company whose beer comes in green glass bottles, the pack held together by cardboard. And congratulations to Bron for thinking through his options and actually going for the plastic-free choice. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

To Graze or not to Graze

2010-02-11T13:45:00.004Z

I am addicted to Graze. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. I’d like to think it’s more of a good thing, but…

What is Graze?
Before I get to that ‘but’, for anyone who has never heard of Graze, go and take a look now. Graze describes itself as ‘healthy eating by post’. I describe it as yummy.

Each week my graze box arrives through the door. Four little pockets of yummy goodness, from olives to nuts, to sultanas, to fruit. No artificial colourings, flavourings, or preservatives. The idea is that by quietly grazing on natural foods that release their energy slowly, the body’s blood sugar levels are kept at a more constant and stable level, rather than the see-saw effect that eating one big lunch of processed foods has. This is better for my body, better for my energy levels, and better for my ability to concentrate on whatever task I have in hand. It stops me from running after that chocolate bar for a late afternoon boost. This can only be a good thing.

Graze Plastic
But – yes, here is the but – the little pockets that hold all this tasty goodness are, you guessed it, plastic. As plastic goes, it’s quite a good kind of plastic, though. At least, that’s what one side of my brain is telling me – the other side is yelling at me that there is no such thing as good plastic. And this is something that I’ve been struggling with quite a lot recently: where is that line between what is acceptable and what isn’t?

The plastic in the Graze boxes is 80% recycled, and they claim it can be recycled again. I have been washing out the little tubs and putting them out for the weekly recycling collection, but do they actually get recycled at the other end or do they wind up in the reject pile? Saying they can be recycled doesn’t necessarily mean they will be. But I also feel that it’s good to support companies that have such careful and ethical packaging policies – and Graze really are trying, it’s just that they still have to work within the copious food hygiene laws and restrictions.

To Graze or not to Graze?
The plastic pockets are housed in a plain cardboard box which is made from sustainable forests and is completely biodegradable and recyclable. There’s no fancy artwork or clever gimmicks; what you see is what you get, and there is something inherently beautiful in that. But plastic is plastic and this experiment is supposed to be about living without plastic, not talking myself into it, or into ‘good’ kinds of plastic.

Perhaps the real question is, do I really need Graze? I survived without it before so I’m sure I can do again. I just have to persuade my fingers to click on that little ‘cancel delivery’ button.

The Little Things

2010-02-05T18:22:00.002Z

One of the many interesting things about trying to live without plastic is the balance of the big plastic things and the little plastic things.

Big things are the everyday things, like not taking plastic bags when I’m out shopping, finding plastic-free food, or shampoo that doesn’t come in a plastic bottle. And in lots of ways they’re easier to solve than the little things. Once I’ve given them up or found an alternative, that’s pretty much it - well, theoretically at least.

The little things are those items that I don’t use very often, or need only occasionally. New knickers, for instance. I have to buy them singly now, rather than in a pack, because packs tend to come in plastic bags. Or they do in Marks and Spencer’s, which is my staple underwear-buying destination.

This week is a typical example of one of the little things. It is portfolio time on my MA course. That means writing up, printing out, and handing in a big chunk of coursework. Said coursework is expected to be presented in a certain way, all of the pages held together in a nice, neat folder. But could I find a cardboard folder for my work? Could I, heck. Or, where I was lucky enough to track one down, they were in a pack of five that’s sealed in plastic, which rather defeated the object of the exercise.

The solution? No folder was the only solution I could find. I resorted to backing the pile of pages with a piece of plain card, threading the pages together with a piece of ribbon. Hopefully my tutors will find it acceptable… I thought ribbon was prettier than string anyway.

Plastic Water

2010-02-01T17:59:00.005Z

I've just been reading about a group of Japanese scientists who have created 'elastic water'.

Elastic Water?
By mixing a little bit of clay and organic material with water, they found it turns into a sort of jelly - except it's clear and has elastic properties. Weird.

Or Plastic Water?
They say that this elasticky jelly substance could become a long term tool in medical technology, e.g. by helping to keep wounds closed. But, more interestingly, if they increase the water's density, it acts more like a plastic, and has the potential to become the 'eco-plastic' of the future. What do you reckon?

Read the news article about it here: Japanese Scientists Create Elastic Water. Or for those who are more scientifically minded, here is the original report that appeared in Nature.

Addicted to Plastic

2010-01-19T19:03:00.003Z

I have just found this amazing documentary called Addicted to Plastic, about a chap who realises he is - like the rest of us - addicted to plastic. The documentary is the culmination of his three year journey around the world looking at all things plastic and their impact.

You can see a quick trailer on YouTube, or watch the whole kaboodle online for free, care of The Documentary Log.

Or you can read an interview with the man himself, Ian Connancher at PSFK.

Go and make a cup of tea (black to avoid the plastic milk bottle), select that foil-wrapped choclate bar from your cupboard, settle down, and watch it now!

A Mobile Quandary

2010-01-15T12:23:00.003Z

Are mobile phones anti-environment?

They kind of scream modern corporate living and they certainly contain all sorts of nasty things that are bad to dig up and bad to dispose of.

But I'm not sure I could live without one in my current lifestyle. Having it there in my pocket makes me feel safe. If I get into trouble I can whip it out and phone someone to come and rescue me. Take all the snow last week, for example. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to attempt driving to work in it without my trusty communication tool. Except for the part where my current communication tool isn’t as trusty as I’d like it to be anymore.

Yes, I’ve decided: I need a new phone. But this, obviously, throws up all sorts of problems. Aside from the stuff that goes into making a new mobile phone there’s the packaging that it comes in, and then there’s the question of what to do with my old one.

‘Can you get phones that aren’t plastic?’ my trusty eco-friend, C, asked me yesterday when I mentioned my quandary.

No, is the simple answer. At least, not that I’m aware of.

But then I found Sony Ericsson and their ‘Green Heart’ eco-friendly range. Well, more eco friendly than your standard phone anyway. Not plastic-free, but made using recycled plastic. What a simple idea. As well as this, the use waterborne rather than solvent based paint; they have engineered a low energy charger and a low energy screen; and the phones are 100% PVC free, 100% beryllium free, and 99.9% free of bromine and antimony.

Sounds pretty good to me. But I’m afraid it’s in my nature to question it: how much of this ‘greatness’ is marketing? It’s easy to trump up the bits that sound good, whilst glossing over the rest, and leaving out what they don’t need to tell you. This phone is 100% PVC free, but how much PVC is there in your average phone normally? And what if, by virtually removing beryllium and antimony, they have had to use something else instead that is actually more harmful?

Maybe I’m just a cynic, I don’t know. Maybe I should learn a little trust. The good thing is that at least they’re trying, at least they’re thinking about it. And I definitely like the recycled plastic part of it – it’s such an obvious, but largely ignored, concept. And the thought I’m ultimately left with is: If Sony Ericsson can do it, why don’t more companies do it? And not just with mobile phones...

Snow Days

2010-01-10T18:52:00.003Z

I have very mixed feelings about snow. It’s gorgeous, beautiful, soft, quiet. It scares me.

Driving in it scares me. A lot. The police on the news warnings tell us not to drive in it and they tell us that for a very good reason. So when I got up to go to work early last Tuesday morning to find not just a snow-covered village, but heavily falling snowing, obviously I didn’t go to work. Or Wednesday, or Thursday. The problem with this – other than upsetting my boss – is that I also didn’t go shopping. And I had missed the order deadline for my Riverford veg box the night before. Result: no fresh food in the house. Well, with the exception of one courgette and half a cabbage.

Fortunately, the village I live in is significant enough to have a greengrocer come butcher, a Spar, a corner shop, and even a pharmacy. So Bron and I put on all our outdoor togs and ventured out to these local facilities on foot. Unfortunately, these village shops aren’t into stocking goods that don’t come in plastic. Actually, they don’t seem terribly interested in stocking vegetables either. We managed to rustle up a few onions, potatoes, carrots, and parsnips, but nothing green. And we had to settle for plastic-covered cheese and plastic-covered bread.

Could we have survived without cheese and bread for a couple of days? Probably, but the cold had at this point settled into my brain for the long-haul and was telling me I must buy these things while I could. So I did. Sorry and all.

We live at the top of a hill and so, since the cold snap started, even before the snow came, I’ve been leaving my car in the village so that I don’t have to worry about driving up and down an icey hill. Am I paranoid? Possibly. But these fears are not unfounded – one little slip in these conditions and you’re done for. My previous car got written off in the snow of February 2009, and three of my colleagues having crashed their cars so far this winter trying to get to work.

Result? When I finally left the village on Friday and went to Sainsbury’s I bought – oh no! – coke bottles wrapped in plastic! Yes Bron is still addicted to coca cola, but if he wants to drink it I usually make him buy his own so I can keep it off my plastic tab. This time it was one step worse – a pack of four bottles bundled together in plastic with a handy plastic handle. Perfect for lugging them up the hill to the house.

A Plastic Christmas?

2010-01-05T08:42:00.002Z

So, is it possible to have a plastic free Christmas? Ok, so I expect it is, if you really try, but apparently not for me. Not this year anyway.

To be or not to be plastic free?
As Christmas approached, I found myself debating the different options open to me:
1. try really and genuinely hard to have a totally plastic free Christmas, or
2. view it as an opportunity to treat myself with all those forbidden things I’ve been trying to avoid for the last few months.

Which side of the line do you think I fell? Well, I did want to try, honestly I did, but the closer it got to Christmas the more downhill it went. And do I have a valid excuse for this terrible failure? That probably depends on your perspective. Hopefully, anyone who has ever worked in retail over the Christmas period will be able understand my perspective. It’s awful. Crazy, manic, utterly exhausting. Holiday time? Pah, not likely. All my carefully laid, plastic-free plans went swiftly out of the window as I suddenly found myself in the last week before Christmas with no more time off work to concentrate on anti-plastic presents.

The good and the bad…
There were some successes, though, which I am now going to big-up as best I can in order to make me look better. My plastic-free purchases included: a wooden, heart-shaped photo frame, a wonderful Emma Bridgewater metal lunchbox, beautiful decorated glass earring dishes for each of my sisters-in-law made by Jo Downs, an interestingly shaped vase complete with a bulb to grow in it from Daisy Roots, a brilliant local ‘ecoflorist’. I also made my own Christmas cards using a torn up sheet of reindeer wrapping paper, although I completely ran out of time to post any of them. Oh, and I gave lots of books too, though sometimes I wonder whether there is some form of plastic in the glossy covers.

And the failures? Cds and Dvds were the biggest culprits. A few items had a little bit of plastic packaging – a tea infusion gift set I bought had a small plastic bag inside, and a flagon of cider I bought for my secret Santa offering, though in a glass bottle, had a plastic label. I had intended to try and find alternative wrapping paper that wouldn’t involve any plastic packaging, but ran out of time and ideas; and I originally thought of trying to wrap gifts without sellotape, but again time and energy just weren’t on my side. That really does sound like a pathetic excuse, doesn’t it? I say again, though: retail at Christmas, aarrgghh!

As for treats, well, they came into their own on the food shopping side of things. Roses chocolates, smoked salmon, Pringles, different cheeses… Actually, thinking about it, it’s not as bad as it could have been. Not perfect though, and I haven’t included the gifts I received either. But wouldn’t it be boring if I were infallible?

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree

2009-12-24T08:05:00.004Z

Hands up if you have a plastic Christmas tree. Ok, if you’ve got a hand in the air, then maybe this is the best time for you to step out of the room.

Fake Plastic Trees
I hate plastic Christmas trees. And I say the word hate with as much venom as I can muster. Ok, maybe I’m being a bit harsh. If you want to have a plastic tree, then that’s your choice. But, personally, I don’t see the point. Christmas for me (well, part of it anyhow) is coming down in the morning and getting that beautiful waft of Christmas tree smell. It’s having those pine needles all over the sitting room floor, and it’s watching the cat go mental chasing after them. Aside from the fact that it’s ugly and plastic, you just don’t get any of that with a fake tree.

Or the Real Thing
I’m sure there are downsides, ecologically and environmentally speaking, to having a real tree in my house at Christmas, and I really should look into them, but right now I’m pretty much just thinking: Christmas! Tree! Christmas! Tree!

Bron and I went to buy our tree last Friday. There’s a farm on the edge of Newquay that sells them, where we go each year. I don’t know where their trees come from – they don’t grow them themselves – but I figure at least this way I’m supporting the local community more than if I bought a tree from, say, B&Q.

Now, as you may have guessed by my earlier rant, in my world choosing the right Christmas tree is a serious business. There was uproar a few years ago, when I still lived at home, and my parents decided to buy a teeny tiny one that would sit on the coffee table. ‘I want a BIG tree!’ was pretty much the repeated refrain. I got used to the little one (kind of), but they’ve never taken that route again.

So come Friday, there Bron and I were, at the farm, going round looking very carefully at all the trees to find the most perfect one for our little home. After some very careful consideration – and after our running favourite got stolen away from under our noses by some other punter, the decision was made. Take it up to the barn and hand it over to the man, who pops it through his special machine to tie it all up.

Say No to Netting
Hang on a second, did I say tie it up? Yes, I did. And I knew it was going to happen – we’ve been there every year for the last four years, after all, but I just didn’t stop it. So now our lovely bright, fresh tree is wrapped up in plastic netting.

It’s a bit of a conundrum this one. Though, having said that, maybe it shouldn’t be. People have been buying trees and lugging them home in their unwrapped state for decades, why can’t we do that today? Because it’s easier to have it wrapped up. It goes in the car easier (or, in this case, Bron’s van) and it’ll lose fewer needles and twigs along the journey. So I get more for my money. Which is a good thing, right?

But what about all that plastic netting? Not just from my tree, but from the hundreds and thousands of trees that have been purchased in this country alone over the last couple of weeks. It’ll all go into the bin and off to the dump, and then we’ll all do the same thing again next year. What a waste.

And from this perspective, I have to wonder, are plastic trees really that bad? At least they go away into the attic at the end of the season each year. Oof. No. Sorry, I just can’t do it. But next year I will have to promise to be strong and take my tree as it comes. Maybe I should start a campaign: Say No to Netting.

A Real Plastic Tree?
On the side of alternative trees, though, here is one that I saw at the Eden Project a few days ago. It has a metal frame, but other than that it’s made entirely of plastic bags. Not only a cunning statement, but pretty effective. I’d love to see it all lit up in the evening.

Post!

2009-12-18T12:42:00.004Z

Ah, post. Who doesn’t love getting post? Well, I’m not so keen on bills or scary looking letters from the Inland Revenue, but hand-written post is a different story. Post lets you know that someone is thinking of you, maybe that someone even loves you.

And what’s better than post? Parcels!

So when I dragged myself through the door after a long and frustrating day at work to find a parcel sitting on my doormat, my interest was immediately piqued. Hmm, I thought. I don’t recognise the hand-writing, so it’s not from my mum or anyone else I know…

In the world of post, is there anything better than a parcel? Well, duh: a parcel with chocolate in it of course!

‘I tried so hard to find chocolates without plastic,’ the accompanying card said. ‘And all the best ones were sealed up.’ I beg to differ: these chocolates are not only yummy, but organic and fair-trade, care of the Organic Seed and Bean Company. I’d take a picture of them for you if I hadn’t already ripped into the packet and eaten half of them.

And the mysterious benefactor of the chocolate? My MA tutor, Susy, to say thank you for giving her full-time students a tour of the bookshop I work in. Effectively, she’s sent me chocolate for doing my job – not that I’m going to send it back! Thank you Susy. It is a really nice and thoughtful thing to do.

But: here’s my dilemma. To tell her or not to tell her that, after all her effort and consideration into my plastic plight, her careful selection of chocolate without a plastic seal around the box – something that is much easier thought about than found – do I tell her that hidden away inside the cardboard the chocolate was sealed in plastic?

I do find it both sad and ironic that this particular chocolate company, having considered so carefully where they will source their fair-trade ingredients, how to flavour their product, and how to present it in as natural way as possible, have hidden the plastic away underneath. I know and understand that in many cases food products are sealed in plastic today for hygiene purposes, but surely that’s not really necessary with chocolate – it’s just what we’re used to these days, what we’re told we need. But do we really need it with everything?

And as I write this I’m wondering how psychological it all is, too. Is there a perception that the better items are those that are wrapped in plastic?

How clean is your beach?

2009-12-10T14:30:00.011Z

This is the plastic that Bron and I collected during our Sunday afternoon walk on the beach a couple of weeks ago.

This pile represents less than an hour of selective picking by the two of us – we left behind the big stuff, the water bottles and crisp packets and the things that I wasn’t prepared to touch without a nice, sanitary pair of (plastic?) gloves. And so this pile represents just the tip of the iceberg.

How clean is clean?

The beach that we collected this from – Fistral in Newquay, Cornwall – is a clean, tidy, well cared for beach. And yet look at what we found. As soon as you start to look a little closer, it’s right there staring at you.

Mermaid’s Tears

I think what surprised me the most were the nurdles. Perhaps more commonly known as mermaid’s tears, these are basically how raw plastic is transported: little plastic pellets that can then be melted down and melted together to make plastic items. I've included a five pence piece in this picture to give you an idea of their size. They’re tiny, they easily blend in with the sand, and you only notice them once you really start to look hard – and then they’re everywhere. It’s no wonder creatures so often mistake them for food.

And Bottle Tops

Aside from the nurdles, the other type of plastic that seemed to show up more than any other were these cover lids from, probably, bottles of water.

Collecting this plastic was certainly an interesting and useful exercise, but Bron asked me the ultimate question:

'What are you going to do with it now?'

I've had to put it in our bin, unfortunately - it really is not too nice and I'm sorry, but I don't want it lying around the house forever. I know I'm just adding to the waste pile, but my reasoning is that at least it'll be marginally better there than kicking around on the beach.

Praise be to Archie Browns!

2009-12-06T13:51:00.002Z

We have an almost unspoken deal in our household that one person cooks and the other washes up. We don’t have a dishwasher, so we wash our dishes the old fashioned way: fairy liquid and a green scourer. Although it’s not actually that old fashioned when I come to think of it: the scourers come from the shop in plastic wrapping, the fairy liquid in a plastic bottle. And giving up doing the washing up isn’t exactly an option at the end of the day, no matter how much I wish it was.

Thank goodness for Archie Brown’s, then. This wonderful little health store and vegetarian café opened up in Truro about a year ago. Before I decided to give up plastic I’d never been there, but in my search for plastic alternatives it was an obvious place to visit. The main ethic behind the store is to be eco and ethically friendly, so they sell a range of products from ethical make-up and beauty products to gluten free pasta, health supplements, and local veg.

Most of what they stock comes in plastic packaging, but the most beautiful thing I’ve discovered they do is Refills. Yes, Refills with a capital R. This is such a simple idea and I wish, wish, wish that there were more shops out there that do it and with a greater variety of products. As for Archie Brown’s, they do refills for cleaning products – laundry detergent, toilet cleaner, washing up liquid.

A few weeks back, when I first discovered them, I bought two plastic litre-sized bottles of their ‘Bio D’ washing up liquid. Yes, plastic, I know, but I’ve no intention of putting these bottles in the bin or the recycling because I’ll be taking back each bottle once it’s emptied and having it refilled from the tank in store. Wonderful! Not only does this save on packaging, but it’s cheaper too, and they only use ecological products such as Bio D, Ecoleaf, and Ecover.

And as for the green scourers? Lakeland saved me there: I bought a pack of four Lancashire cloths which came wrapped in a simple cardboard band. No plastic packaging and every time they start to get manky, instead of throwing them in the bin and opening a new packet, I simply stick them in the washing machine and start again.

Disaster! No More Ice Cream!

2009-12-02T21:24:00.002Z

The Death of Ice Cream?

Noooo! I have just discovered that what I thought was a paper wrapping around my daily choc ice isn’t paper at all. It looks like paper, it feels like paper, and it tears like paper, but according to the box it’s actually plastic. And I thought choc ices were safe. What on earth am I going to do now?

The thought of going without ice cream after my dinner each evening feels me with so much dread I’m sure I’m having palpitations. Beads of sweat are breaking out on my forehead and my hands have started to shake.

To Ben and Jerry’s – or not ?

I can’t buy supermarket brand ice cream or brands like Carte D’or as they’re all in plastic tubs. Haagen Dazs has a plastic lid and even Ben and Jerry’s (mmm, my mouth is watering just thinking about their Baked Alaska) is a no-no. The tub may look like card, and although most of it is, paper and ice cream don’t really mix that well, so it’s coated in a virtually invisible layer of polyethylene to stop it from leaking. I guess that’s the same reason why the choc ices I’ve been buying are wrapped in plastic rather than paper, too.

Looking at Ben and Jerry’s website, though, I’m very impressed with the environmental attempts. Despite the plastic coating, their tubs are made of 90% renewable paper stock, they use water based inks for printing, and in their ‘scoop shops’ they’ve switched to corn-based cold drinks cups that are compostable. It’s not rocket science, and there’s still lots more that they can do, but at least they’re thinking about it and they’re trying. Which is more than I can say for Haagan Dazs – take a look at their website and there’s nothing about their environmental policies or their packaging.

So, are there any options left - at all?

In the meantime, though, on my last shopping trip I found myself staring, glassy-eyed at the range of ice cream and lolly goodness arrayed in the freezers in front of me. None if which I should allow myself to buy. Ice cream is out, Magnums are out, choc ices are now out. The supermarket brand cornettos say they use mixed materials for their wrappings, which probably means the same cup of tea as the Ben and Jerry tubs.

‘Oh, but they’re sooo yummy,’ the little voice in my head says.

‘But you mustn’t!’ my conscience rallies.

‘They’re not entirely plastic, though,’ the other voice says. ‘So it’s not all bad. Maybe buy them just this once more, and make them last a really long time so you can wean yourself off gradually…’

‘Dammit!’ the good voice says, as I look in the trolley again. ‘How did those cornettos sneak in there?’

What Happened to my Toothbrush?

2009-11-29T14:33:00.003Z

It is nearly four weeks since I ordered a ‘Natural Toothbrush’ to try – made from the root of the Araak tree rather than plastic (see my previous post, I'm a Pink Toothbrush). But there is no sign of it. I was so excited about trying this out, and now it doesn’t look I’m going to be able to.

Searching for the toothbrush truth

Well, I thought, I’ve got a copy of the receipt, I’ll just email them with my order number and find out what’s happened.

But: no reply, not a peep.

Humph.

Ok, so I’ll check out the website, make sure I’ve emailed the right address.

But the website no longer exists! Every which way I try to find it, whether through Google or typing the address into my browser, I get the same, stomach-dropping error message.

I check my bank statement. And yes, the payment has been deducted. But still no toothbrush, and no contact from the people I ordered it from.

Bigger humph.

So now what?

Have I been duped, I wonder? I can live with letting the £5 fee go - though I think it's more than a bit cheeky to take my money and then disappear off the edge of the planet - but what am I going to do about getting a new toothbrush now?

The Olive Problem

2009-11-22T13:37:00.004Z

Mmmm, olives are yummy. At least, I think they are – I know not everyone out there would necessarily agree.

There was a time when I bought fresh olives every week and would put them in my sandwich for lunch (I highly recommend them with a bit of Boursin and lettuce on tiger bread), but since July I've had to resist the temptation because, if you want them fresh, they come in little plastic tubs. It’s a bit like the takeaway issue (see my earlier post, Evil Take-out) – the tubs aren’t bad, you can clean them and reuse them, but they never last that long and always wind up in the bin eventually.

The Lunchbox Problem
My lunchbox as a whole has gone through quite a metamorphosis since I started giving up plastic. From a cling-film wrapped sandwich, a couple of Muller Star baby yoghurts, and a Mars bar, it now generally consists of a couple of pieces of bread and… well and nothing. Maybe that explains why I'm always hungry! I’ll add butter or some cheese to the bread when I get to work from my little stash in the staff fridge, then go and get a pastry from Baker Tom or the farmer’s market for something sweet.

Bread and cheese is all well and good, but it does get a little dull after a while. I looked up from my plate the other day to find everyone else in the staff room laughing at me. Apparently, watching me cut up the end of my slightly dried out goat’s cheese into evermore smaller pieces, and then laying them very carefully and precisely onto my measly looking slice of bread is the new and best entertainment in town. So hopefully you can understand it if I tell you I’ve been craving olives lately.

The Olive Solution
But how to have olives without the plastic?

Every Wednesday and Saturday the Farmer’s Market arrives in Truro. Not only do they have the best cake stall ever (The Cornish Mill and Bakehouse), but also the best olive stand. I don’t know their name, but they sell a variety of fresh olives, feta, and baklava. Mmmm.

So yesterday I went along to the olive stall well prepared.

‘I have a weird request.’ This is my standard opening statement to a lot of people these days.

‘I’d like to buy some olives, but would you mind if I used my own tub?’

Easy peasy. Apparently quite a few people bring along their own tubs. Yay! So yesterday I got to have bread and cheese and olives for lunch. Oh, and a chocolate brownie from the cake stall too.

The Eden Project

2009-11-20T14:18:00.010Z

On a recent visit to the Eden Project I was interested to see how they use plastic. I can’t help it, I’m starting to notice it everywhere. But the Eden Project was a real conundrum for me – there are some really interesting examples of where they are thinking about waste and plastic, and the opportunity to make the most of their waste and use alternatives to generally accepted practices.

WEEE
Here is the WEEE Man. ‘WEEE’ is Waste Electrical and Electronic Equipment. He’s basically made of the electrical stuff we chuck away when it stops working properly, from mobile phones to electronic mixers, to washing machines. You may not be able to see it all that clearly from the picture, but a whole chunk of what he’s made of is also plastic. Pretty scary.

Plastic Alternatives
I found this little display really interesting – a pity that it is tucked away in a part of the garden that I’m sure the majority of visitors miss. Picture yourself inside your car: how much of what you can see is made of plastic? So it’s interesting that designers are starting to think about alternatives – even if it’s mostly only from an economical point of view.

So, lots of good things that Eden is thinking about and drawing our attention to.

But then…
When you get to their shop there’s lots more examples of thoughtful and alternative ideas. But maybe the manufacturers haven’t entirely thought this process through. Here are just two examples.

1. The Eco Stapler. Doesn’t use staples and so cuts down on wastage. Great, but look at the amount of packaging they’ve put around it!

2. The Indy Bag. Encourage people to stop accepting plastic bags from stores, but take their own reusable ones. Great, but don’t sell them wrapped in a plastic bag!

Not quite as ecological as they set out to be, methinks.

Why I Hate Plastic

2009-11-12T19:40:00.004Z

Wondering why I'm trying to give up plastic? What's so bad about plastic, after all?

Well, take a look at these videos on YouTube to see why, The World's Biggest Garbage Patch and Modern Marvels: Pacific Gyre

Or read this article in Tuesday's New York Times, Afloat in the Ocean, by Lindsey Hoshaw. Below is the second paragraph from Lidsey's article to give you a taster.

"Light bulbs, bottle caps, toothbrushes, Popsicle sticks and tiny pieces of plastic, each the size of a grain of rice, inhabit the Pacific garbage patch, an area of widely dispersed trash that doubles in size every decade and is now believed to be roughly twice the size of Texas. But one research organization estimates that the garbage now actually pervades the Pacific, though most of it is caught in what oceanographers call a gyre like this one — an area of heavy currents and slack winds that keep the trash swirling in a giant whirlpool."

I can only hope it scares you enough to think about giving up plastic yourself. For me, it serves as a stark reminder for why I should keep putting in the effort.

Tortillas

2009-11-08T18:25:00.002Z

I recently banned Bron from buying tortillas in the supermarket, because they come in plastic. Well, maybe banned is too strong a word, but I stopped buying them, and whenever he asked if we could get some I moaned about the plastic.

‘But I really miss them,’ he told me the other day.

‘So why don’t you try making them yourself?’ I said. ‘It can’t be that hard. And if it doesn’t work then I suppose we can get some as a treat.’ Which seemed to appease him. Surprisingly, actually, as he usually ignores my moaning about most other things he wants (don’t even mention supernoodles, for instance – this is a real bug-bear of mine that he just refuses to acknowledge).

And so to today. While I have been beavering away upstairs at one of my MA tasks, he has cooked up a batch of fresh tortillas using a recipe he found on the internet. And they are yummy. The yummiest tortillas I’ve ever eaten, I’ll tell you that much. There’s no way I’m ever going to buy them from the shop again – Bron’s are just too good!

Shampoo

2009-11-06T20:42:00.002Z

No more bottles of shampoo
All my various bottles of shampoo are finally empty. I’ve eeked them out as long as possible, but I can’t hide from it any longer. How am going to wash my hair now? With raw egg, or shall I just let it get greasier and greasier until the natural cleaning kicks in?

This reminds me of way back in July, when I first embarked on this anti-plastic campaign. I wrote then about my first challenge: deodorant. Maybe you’ll remember my notes on the dreaded transition period. Well, while I was visiting Lush to purchase the solid deodorant I had the foresight to buy one of their shampoo bars as well, and it’s been sitting on my bathroom shelf ever since.

To Lush, or not to Lush
One of the side discoveries of the whole deodorant episode (I now use a crystal deodorant, which is amazing), was finding out Lush frequently use Propylene Glycol in their products. Propylene Glycol comes from petroleum, which is almost as bad as buying plastic itself – in my book, at least. So now I’m wondering, is this stuff in my shampoo bar, too?

Wait, wait… no! It doesn’t! Thank goodness for that. I am home and dry.

Shampoo Bar
So, out comes my ‘seanik’ shampoo bar. It’s quite small, smaller than the size of my palm, circular in shape, like a squashed sphere, and bright blue. Smells quite nice, though.

How does this work again? Just like soap: you rub it direct onto your hair and scalp, and voila. Froth. I’d been warned that they don’t really lather up, but this one is nice and foamy and my hair feels pretty clean already. And it’s got that nice clean squeak to it, too. Seems good so far, and my scalp hasn’t turned blue yet.

All I need now is a conditioner that will prevent my hair – which is quite long, very thick and pretty curly – from turning into an impenetrable bird’s nest every time I wash it. I still have a spray-on conditioner at the moment, but I don’t know what’ll happen when that runs out, and I’d rather not have to shave my head.

Tom, Tom the Bakerman

2009-11-03T17:45:00.003Z

Bread without the plastic wrapper

‘That smells amazing,’ my colleague, A, says as she walks into the staff room where I’m preparing my lunch: fresh rosemary foccacia, with olive oil and balsamic vinegar to dip it in. Mmm, it makes my mouth water just thinking about it. What could I do but give her some to taste?

The supermarket scenario

There really is nothing quite like the smell of fresh bread. You just don’t get that in the supermarket unless you get there early enough in the morning for the bakery to still be on the go, but then they wrap it and seal it plastic before they put it on the shelves, shutting the smell away.

Yeah, I know, they do have their little nods toward the old ways, with the baskets of fresh rolls you can choose from, but the only way to get them home is by dropping them in one of the provided bread bags: even those that are mostly paper usually have a clear plastic window in them, just in case you forget what you put in there.

And then there’s the bread brands: Hovis, Kingsmill, Supermarket-own; it’s impossible to buy these without the plastic bag. Which is why I now buy all my bread from Baker Tom.

Baker Tom

I walk in the door and there’s an array of bread baskets against the opposite wall, all the different smells leaping out at you. From your basic white, wholemeal or granary, to Irish soda bread, olive bread, cinnamon and raisin bread, even honey and lavender bread, Baker Tom makes it and Baker Tom sells it. It’s baked fresh every day, and they use organic and local ingredients wherever they can; there are no additives or preservatives, and if there’s anything left at all by the end of trade, it goes to the local homeless shelter.

I um and ah over whatever is left by the time I get there, and when I’ve finally made my decision, the assistant wraps it up in paper and, if it’s foccacia, puts it in a nice paper bag to stop the grease escaping. I hand over my 80p, or whatever is required that given day, and leave the shop a plastic-free and happy girl, trying not to be tempted by the Danish pastries, pain au chocolat, or almond tart cunningly laid on the desk by the till. All I have to do now is convert Bron.

I'm a Pink Toothbrush, You're a Blue Toothbrush

2009-10-28T18:22:00.006Z

Is there such a thing as a plastic-free toothbrush?

Help! I need a new toothbrush! Desperately. But how on earth am I going to find one that's not plastic? I really don’t fancy having to use a twig to clean my teeth for evermore.

My trusty internet asearch engine is the only way forwatrd, and so off to Google I go. I type in ‘non plastic toothbrush’ expecting a total of zero results. But, aha! I am not the only plastic freak out here…

A little toothbrush history

According to The Daily Green: The Consumer’s Guide to the Green Revolution, “The toothbrush as we know it was invented in the 15th century in China and was originally concocted of boar's hair or horsehair and bamboo or bone…

“If you consider that the average human life expectancy today is about 78 years and then multiply that by the times one might replace a toothbrush (every 4 months or so) you get a grand total of 312 toothbrushes used and then discarded by any given individual during his or her time on the planet.”

That doesn’t sound horrendous on its own, but when you consider how many people there are on the planet, well, it really starts to add up.

So what alternatives are actually out there?

With a little perseverance, I find there’s quite a selection of biodegradable and/or natural toothbrushes to choose from: Peelu, Acca Kappa, Swissco. None of them are quite perfect, but here are my top finds:

1. Radius: made from wood or flax, or even dollar bills, with changeable heads. But the heads and bristles are plastic and nylon. Though this is better than nothing because at least I’d only be throwing away half a toothbrush each time, rather than a whole one.

2. Preserve: made from recycled plastic. They come in a reusable travel case instead of regular packaging, plus you can send them back to the manufacturer afterwards to be recycled again, into park benches and the like. This is brilliant, though I do wonder whether constant recycling is really solving the problem. But it’s a good start and it offers a lot more than your regular toothbrush. And apparently I can pop down to my local Sainsbury’s to get one; handy.

3. Wooden toothbrush: with natural bristles from allthingsgreen.net "The head of each toothbrush is covered with a small piece of biodegradable plastic for hygiene reasons and secured with a paper/metal clip that is 100% recyclable," the site tells me. This seems to tick all my boxes - except they’re a whopping £9 each.

The Natural Toothbrush

Finally: jackpot! The Natural Toothbrush is literally what it says: made from the root of the Araak tree. And it resembles… well, a twig. As far as I can tell from the website, you peel off the bark and chew the ‘bristles’ inside. You don’t even need toothpaste because the fibres contain all sorts of natural nutrients. The tree it comes from is widespread in the Middle East which, theoreticall at leasty, means that taking these twigs shouldn’t cause too much undue harm.

Bron walks in while I’m looking at the website. ‘How much is it?’ he asks.

‘£1.99’

‘Cool. Get one. And get one for me, too.’

Wow, I’m gobsmacked. This’ll be one of my easiest Bron conversions yet, and tough to ignore.

‘It’ll still come in a plastic pouch, though.’ I say.

‘Of course they will. They’ve got to, for hygiene,’ he reminds me.

I know he’s right, it’s just a bit annoying. But I let impulse take hold, and click the magic button on the computer, ordering one for each of us. So much for saying I'm not prepared to clean my teeth with a twig.

Bron's Breakfast

2009-10-19T19:31:00.002+01:00

In the three plus years that Bron and I have been together, I’ve never known him to have more than a banana for his breakfast before going to work in the morning. Actually, neither of us have ever really bothered with breakfast, as that little bit of extra sleep has always won out over food. But suddenly, since being made redundant in August, he’s discovered the power of breakfasting.

It sounds like a good thing – and it is a good thing, I suppose. That mysterious ‘they’ always say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all. Except that Bron’s new breakfast fetish means he - or we - have started buying three key ingredients we never really bought before: milk (plastic bottle), Kellogg’s Special K cereal (cardboard box, but plastic bag inside), and walnuts (plastic bag). Not exactly reducing our plastic intake.

How did this happen? I can’t exactly stop him, but I must admit I feel somewhat annoyed about it.

And then I find myself pouring out a bowl of cereal when I get home from work, ‘Just to tide me over until tea is ready.’ Damn! So now I’m helping him get through this plastic badness even quicker. Besides which, I’ve been reading Felicity Lawrence’s book ‘Eat Your Heart Out’ which has some very bad things indeed to say about cereals. I feel so wrong on so many counts, but temptation is such a hard thing to conquer.

I must try harder to convince Bron of his evil plastic and breakfasting ways, except my track record on this count is rather slim to date as he seems to have developed immunity to my charms. I guess he knows me too well and can see what’s coming… I’ll have to think up some new tactics.

Pen and Ink

2009-10-11T13:25:00.004+01:00

‘What’s up with your hands?’ Bron asks as he comes in the door. I look down, wondering what he means, when I remember: ah, yes, my fingertips are kinda blue right now…

Okay, so I’m an old-fashioned girl at heart. While I may be computer friendly and blog happy, I still like to use a more traditional writing method on occasion. I have my writing routine, of course: a propeller pencil for rough stuff; a black gel ink pen for the neat. But the other day I suddenly found I’d run out of leads for the pencil, and all of my pens had dried up and so into the bin they had to go.

Most pens these days pretty much represent the epitome of our throwaway culture: use them once and then they’re done. Plus all these throwaway pens are made of plastic, of course. So when my last pen ran out I thought, easy, I’ll dig out my old fountain pen. It wasn’t far either, just sitting in my pencil case, waiting to be rediscovered. But, alas, my fountain pen uses cartridges. Plastic cartridges. Are these any better than buying a new pen every couple of months I wondered? It’s probably 50:50. At least they’re smaller, but maybe this means I’ll go through them quicker. And besides plastic is plastic at the end of the day, isn’t it?

How am I going to get around this one, I wondered. I wasn’t quite prepared to resort to using a feather quill. In the end, I took myself off to WHSmith to see whether or not you can still buy traditional, refillable fountain pens with little glass pots of ink. Well, you can, sort of. Instead of having to buy a whole new pen, I came out with a ‘cartridge converter.’ It fits in my Parker pen just like a cartridge does, except it’s got a little mechanism built into it that enables me to refill it every time it’s empty. It’s made of plastic, of course, but at least it’s going to be staying in my pen for the foreseeable future.

As for my propeller pencil, new leads come in little plastic tubes, packaged on cardboard, but with a plastic bubble over the top. I can’t do it, can’t buy this, it’s silly when there are plenty of perfectly good wooden pencils in the world. I go home and take a peek in my pencil case: yes, there’s one already in there. But wait: shock! Horror! It’s made of plastic! How weird.

On closer inspection, it turns out that this pencil – a left over stocking filler from last Christmas - is made of recycled plastic. So that’s where all those plastic bottles go. I wonder how many bottles it takes to make one pencil? It looks like it needs a good sharpen, though, and so it’s back to the shops for me. I’ll just get a nice little silver sharpener, I think. Of course, it’s not that simple. WHSmiths has loose plastic sharpeners, or packaged metal ones. Why aren’t the metal ones loose? They’re no more in need of protection than plastic ones – less if anything, seeing as they’re considerably less brittle. Eventually I choose the metal one that comes with slightly less packaging, even though it’s a little more expensive.

My cartridge converter came in plastic, too, as did the bottle of ink. The pot of ink is in a glass bottle – great – but the sheer amount of plastic wrapped around it gave me a bit of a scare. In the end I bought it, figuring the pot would last me a while, at least, and in the meantime I can try sourcing pots without the packaging. When I got home, I opened it up with glee, ready to fill up the special cartridge – and forgot about how messy ink is and how easily it spreads itself around on desks and over fingers. Well, at least I haven’t knocked the bottle flying. Yet.

Visitors

2009-10-04T18:55:00.002+01:00

Our friend, M, was on the phone in tears the other night. She is genuinely one of the unluckiest people I have ever met. To cut a long story short, she was suddenly homeless. Panic had set in: she’d have to sell her new business and go back north to live with her mum.

‘Don’t do that!’ we told her. ‘Come and stay with us for a couple of weeks until you can get things sorted out.’

And so that’s how we came to have her and her three year old little boy, K, staying with us. A bit of a shock to the system, and in more ways than one. For starters, K is 25% cute, 75% whirlwind. But the other side of the story is that M, like most of our friends, has no idea of my plastic obsession.

I admit it right now, it’s a bit mean of me, and if she ever reads this blog I hope she’ll forgive me, but when she went out the other day, I made a little list of all the stuff that’s appeared in our kitchen and bathroom that I no longer buy. Actually, it was quite a long list. Which made me feel really good about myself. Maybe I’m doing better with this no plastic deal than I thought I was.

I won’t list everything I found - that would be far from fair to M. But in the meantime, I’m planning on making the most of consuming all these hitherto forbidden foods that have appeared in their plastic trays and wrappings in my little kitchen: strawberries, grapes, croissants, scotch pancakes, and meringues. Mmmm.

Curses!

2009-09-29T18:43:00.001+01:00

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about how much over-packaging there is in the world. At Bron’s barbecue at the beginning of August, one friend turned up with a big pack of beer – something like 24 cans all in one box. Sounds great – after all, buying in bulk is usually better because it cuts down on packaging, and thus on rubbish, in the long run. But what really threw me was the fact that this perfectly adequate cardboard box was wrapped in plastic. Why? It just seems so completely unnecessary – what purpose does it really serve when the cardboard box alone does everything you need it to, i.e. hold all the cans together. And the more I think about it, the more I see it going on.

At this point in time I should probably admit to falling off the plastic wagon with our shopping again yesterday. Baked beans were the main culprit this time. This time, rather than the peer pressure of the cheese, it came down to economics. A single tin of Heinz baked beans costs 65p. Or I could buy two packs of four tins for £3. The math is obvious: 8 tins at 65p each comes to £5.20. Of course, the tins in each pack are kept together by plastic wrapping.

Again, there was the umming and ahhing, the dilly-dallying, but the money side won out. As someone who lives on quite a small budget, it was probably inevitable, but I do feel annoyed about it. What annoys me most – other than the fact that I let the special offer win out over my plastic challenge – is the fact that it’s perfectly feasible to pack the tins together in paper rather than plastic. Companies do it often enough with tomatoes, with beer, why not baked beans?

Cut Plastic: Get a Veg Box

2009-09-22T18:50:00.005+01:00

Caterpillars? Yummy, just what every good diet needs.

Or not: I now feel a little scared to eat my broccoli without completely mushing it up to make sure it really is just broccoli. But, that said, caterpillars are the only downside I’ve come across with ordering a weekly veg box.

Riverford Farm is my new big thing. Bron and I have been ordering fruit and vegetables from them since the start of summer, and they are amazing. Each week a beautiful cardboard box almost miraculously appears in my shed, full of organic vegetables that are so fresh they still have the earth on them. Oh, and the occasional caterpillar.

Even better than the vegetables (and eggs, and bread, and wine) is Riverford’s packaging policy. Send the veg box back each week and it gets re-used. Tomatoes and mushrooms arrive in lovely little cardboard punnets that can go in your recycling, or can be re-used as seed trays, for storage, or for your child to make that robot they’ve been going on about for the last three days. Bananas, apples, courgettes, and that caterpillary broccoli all come in paper bags.

I’ve never received that bane of vegetable packaging, the plastic punnet, but I should probably confess that they do, on occasion, use plastic bags. But it's not an absolute disaster because Riverford recycles them. Therefore, I don’t count them as plastic entering my home because I know it’s only on a temporary basis. They never go anywhere near my bin: I simply send them back with the empty box. I’m always wondering how much of the plastic that goes out with my recycling actually gets recycled, but by sending these bags back to their source, I feel confident that they really are.

Evil Take-out

2009-08-31T13:01:00.001+01:00

This first hint of badness was when Bron got into the car carrying a plastic bag.

‘I asked her not to put it in a plastic one,’ he said. ‘But she said she really had to because the paper one wouldn’t hold it.’ I looked at what he was handing me: a bog standard, weak white carrier bag, inside of which was a classic, brown paper bag. Inside the paper bag was our food.

Other than fish and chips, the last time we had takeaway was when we moved to our current abode last October, so it’s not exactly a common occurrence in our household. But a couple of weeks ago, we were driving back from a visit to Totnes, it was late and we were tired and hungry and really didn’t want to cook, so we decided to treat ourselves. Indian won the coin toss. Stupidly, I didn’t even think about what our food was going to come in when I made this decision.

Why bother using a paper bag at all if you’re going to insist on putting that inside a plastic bag afterwards? That’s already twice as much out packaging than is necessary.

The worst shock came when I looked inside the paper bag, though. I had completely forgotten that Indian takeaway comes in plastic containers.

‘I know,’ Bron said. ‘But you can re-use them’. Which is true, and we are, but it’s left me wondering. How many people out there have takeaway like this on a regular basis? For starters, that’s a whole lot of plastic boxes that are being put into circulation. And how many of those people actually re-use their containers? Washing them that first time can be tricky because of the oils in Indian cooking, and there are probably lots of people who can’t be bothered. Plus, if they get takeaway every week, then that’s a lot of plastic containers sitting in their cupboards – probably more than they know they’re going to use. So how many wind up in the bin?

The other thing I’ve been wondering is how hygienic is it to repeatedly use these containers? There are tales of chemicals leaking out of plastic containers into the food they’re storing, especially if you’re using them in the microwave. They get scratched after a while, which makes them harder to clean, and it’s just a general downhill rollercoaster as far as I can see.

So what’s the solution? I don’t know; maybe the only solution is don’t have takeaway. I can manage that, but what about everyone else out there? And what would happen to the take-out businesses?

Plastic or Chemicals?

2009-08-22T17:58:00.002+01:00

I’ve got a terrible sweet tooth. Chocolate, cake, you name it, I’d probably eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I could.

Chocolate-free plastic is fairly easy to come across. More and more confectioners are packaging their chocolate bars in plastic ‘stay-fresh’ wrapping (err, why? It’s not exactly as if chocolate goes off, after all, is it?), but if I avoid snack bars like Mars and go straight for the proper slabs of chocolate I’m pretty safe. The paper-clad brands are usually more expensive, but they’re also usually the organic or fair trade brands, so although it costs me a little more, I feel better for buying it, and better for eating it too.

Sugar for home baking, though, is a different story.

Sugar Sweet
I am standing in the baking goods aisle, one bag of sugar in one hand, one bag in the other hand.

Bron just looks at me. I think he’s really starting to get fed up with my whole indecisive nature, although you’d think he’d have gotten used to it by now.

‘It’s supposed to be about plastic,’ I say to him. ‘So I should get this one. Right?’ I hold up my left hand. The bag I’m holding is made of paper. Perfect. Right?

‘But do you really want to be eating the chemicals?’ he asks.

‘Well, I always have white sugar in my tea at work, don’t I? So what difference is it really going to make?’

He raises his eyebrows at me.

I’m starting to feel a bit self conscious; I’m sure that all the customers around me have been listening to my little rant and are now skirting their trolleys in as wide a berth as they can manage.

‘I’m not even sure that they do add bleach to it,’ I say, lifting up the paper bag again. ‘It’s just that that’s what I’ve always thought. Raw sugar’s got to be better for you, hasn’t it? Because it hasn’t been processed.’ I’m going over old ground again. What I really wish is that Bron would make the choice for me, but I’ve learnt by this point in our relationship that that probably isn’t going to happen. At least, not unless he gets really pissed off at me. I wonder how far I can push it? But the supermarket on a Friday evening probably isn’t the best time to test that.

A pound of golden, copper-coloured raw cane sugar in my right hand, packaged in plastic; a pound of white caster sugar in my left hand, packaged in paper. They are both fair trade, so we’re on equal ground as far as that goes. Raw, or unrefined sugar, means that it contains more of its natural minerals, and that it hasn’t got any of the extra chemicals that get added to it during the refining process, such as phosphoric acid. Or the dreaded plastic bag.

I am koo-keed down, knees bent, balancing on my toes, literally weighing up the pros and cons of each sugar both in my head and in my hands. I want raw cane sugar in a paper bag. But, of course, I can’t have that. That would be too simple. So which is it going to be?

Plastic or chemicals?
It seems so unfair that I have to choose between the two – why can’t I have my unrefined sugar in a paper bag? Obviously it’s possible to supply sugar in paper, because of this other brand that’s on the shelf.

In the end, I choose the unrefined sugar in the plastic bag, and it was a choice I really didn’t like to have to make. But it’s set me a new challenge for the coming days: source the right sugar in the right packaging from another store. Even if Sainsbury’s doesn’t do it, hopefully one of my local health stores will.

Mmm, Salty

2009-08-14T13:26:00.003+01:00

'That is ******* disgusting. I am not using that.'

Ah, the immortal words of Bron.

And what spawned them? Toothpaste. Yes, indeed. Well, to be more specific, Weleda's salt toothpaste. This is my latest 'less plastic' aquisition - it's less plastic because it comes in an aluminium tube, rather than the typical Colgate plastic one. Although it still has a plastic screw-top lid, so it's not ideal.

And he's right: it is disgusting, but hey, I've bought it now so I'd better knuckle down and use it. Though, if Bron is going to refuse to help me out, it may take a while to get through it. Yikes. Maybe I'll get used to it? At least Weleda make a whole range of natural toothpastes so at least next time I can choose a different one... Although it does occur to me that as there's still a plastic lid invloved maybe I should keep looking for something else that is even less plastic. Or admit to the fact that perhaps I'll just have to go back to basics and make my own.

Unless that tastes even worse...

Eco Warriors

2009-08-09T15:16:00.004+01:00

When I first started this blog I wanted to call it 'A Life Less Plastic,' but - darn it - someone else beat me to it. My first thought was 'argh!' but my second was 'oh good, at least I'm not the only one.' And now I know that that is such a long, long way from the truth: there are loads of people out there with the same idea, and most of them seriously put me to shame. In fact, my rather meagre attempts so far have left me feeling rather pathetic compared to everyone else out there.

So, I'm going to add a list of other blogs to check out. There's a myriad of green bloggers out there and I'm pretty sure I've only just scratched the surface, so right now I'm going to keep my links to just those that involve plastic or waste, rather than general eco-blogs - well, except for one in particular that I really liked, Planting Milkwood, which is all about water resources and permaculture, and which made me feel very jealous.

A couple of the links are no longer being updated, but they've got some really interesting information and ideas in them that I want to read in greater detail some time soon. Take a look at Junk, for instance, which is about sailing to Hawaii on a boat made of plastic bottles.

I also really like 365 Days of Trash, which is about one guy and his family trying to create zero waste. Yup, I definately think I need to start working harder - especially after last night's party, which has resulted in me having to change both the bin bag and the recycling boxes three days earlier than usual. It really is scary how much waste a group of just 10 or so people can create in only one afternoon.

Say Cheese

2009-08-08T14:02:00.005+01:00

I am standing in the supermarket aisle. Dairy produce. Artificial lighting glares down at me and the surrounding fridges hum as blinkered shoppers trundle past, pushing their metal trolleys full of brightly packaged goods.

A myriad of cheeses are trying to attract my eye: soft cheese, grated cheese, fancy cheese, goat cheese, even little mini cheeses. There is milk, there is butter, margarine, yoghurts, and cream.

‘Cheese,’ Bron reads off the scribbled shopping list in his hand.

I want the organic cheddar that is sealed in simple waxy paper. Bron wants the ‘plastic’ cheese: floppy, processed cheese slices. I’m not sure how much actual cheese they contain. A pack of ten for 99p, each slice individually sealed in its own little protective plastic cocoon. I can see myself tearing off this outer layer and reverently laying my plastic slice across the top of my freshly barbecued burger; I can see the edges of it melting and melding with my tomato sauce, and I can taste its fake cheesey goodness as I bite through the soft roll and into the hot burger. I can’t help but salivate.

I want the plastic cheese too.

But I’m not supposed to be buying plastic if I can possibly avoid it.

‘We could get this one,’ I say, holding up the organic cheddar. ‘And slice it up really thinly so that it melts properly over the burgers.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Bron looks at me.

‘Or we could grate it. That would work, wouldn’t it?’

‘Maybe.’

I’m grasping at straws – even Bron knows what I really want is the plastic cheese.

‘Do you think people would really care?’ The group of friends we’ve invited to Bron’s birthday barbecue probably have quite specific expectations as to what will be provided for their eating enjoyment.

Bron is not going to commit either way. Damn. He really, really wants the plastic cheese. It is his birthday, I tell myself.

‘Ok, but we won’t ever buy it again,’ I say tossing it into our trolley as quickly as I can. I already feel guilty. But then: ‘We’d better get two packs to make sure we’ve got enough to go around.'

Oops.

Aarghh! (aka, Skincare part 2)

2009-07-17T17:11:00.001+01:00

I always knew this no plastic thing wasn’t going to be easy, but that little voice inside me kept on hoping it wouldn’t really be that complicated when it came down to it.

Firstly, The Soap
This is disappearing far too rapidly for my purse strings to keep hold of, so no matter how nice it is I won’t be buying it again. I visited two of my three local health shops yesterday and had a good peruse of all the different products and came out with a soap produced by a company called Faith in Nature. I’d never heard of them before, but it didn’t come in a wrapper, it smelt nice, it was a reasonable price, and it’s got aloe vera in it, so I figured it would be a good bet, and it seems to be quite nice so far, although I feel very squeaky after using it. Yet, following my tutor’s revelations about product ingredients (see below), I’ll be looking into what actually goes into my soaps before I buy any more.

Secondly, The Deodorant
A Transition Period. Yes, there certainly is a transition period. I don’t really smell nasty, but there is definitely something different going on under my arms. Over the weekend they started to feel a bit funny, and then a bit more funny, and then last night they developed a full blown rash. Yuck. I blamed the new deodorant straight away, deciding I’d have to try one of the other ones Lush has on offer. But first I was a bad girl - worried about going to work with no deodorant on, I succumbed to temptation and put on a little bit of my old antiperspirant. I know I shouldn’t have, and I felt guilty about it all day, but I really didn’t want to smell.

After work, I went back to Lush to look at their other options. One of the girls came over and started talking to me, so I told my sorry tale. What did she say? ‘Transition Period.’ She suggested that it’s more likely to be the exiting toxins causing my rash than the deodorant. I said maybe she was right, seeing as it wasn’t an immediate reaction, but anyway I found the deodorant block I had been using to be really hard and difficult to apply, as it has a sort of crust on it (yes, not too pleasant, I grant you). Apparently, though, you’re supposed to slice this bit off to reveal a fresh, smooth inside.

I should persevere, she said. Ok, I said, but until my rash goes away I want something else to interchange with the block. I came out with deodorising ‘coconut powder’, which is a bit like talc. But then comes more guilt, because of course talc needs to be kept in a little pot. It’s a cardboard pot, so that’s something, but it’s got a plastic top and bottom. I told myself I can reuse the pot for something else when it’s empty, and that I really needed it, and that I’ll find something else for next time. And it is really nice, and feels soft on my skin, but now I’m telling myself it should only be a one-off purchase to ease this sticky transition. Because packaging is packaging at the end of the day.

And then, to add insult to injury, when I get home there’s a comment from my college tutor, S, subtly hinting at the fact that maybe Lush isn’t the best way to go. Yeah, thanks S. She’s absolutely right, though, because a little investigation led to the discovery that a lot of Lush’s products use something called Propylene Glycol. And what’s propylene glycol? No, not a plastic. But it is a petroleum derivative. That means oil. Maybe the main idea behind this whole exercise is to be plastic free, but what’s the point in being plastic free if the products I use are bad to the environment in other ways?

Thirdly, the Suncream
Only one of the three companies I emailed about my suncream search has got back to me so far. Thank you Love Lula. Lula recommended a sun lotion her website sells that is made of organic and natural ingredients, plus it comes in a glass bottle. Yippee! Right?

Lula’s sun lotion, as lovely as it sounds, is a whopping £28.50 a bottle. Now, that might possibly be worth it if it was a normal sun-cream sized bottle. This one, however, contains so little actual lotion that I’d probably use the whole thing up in just one sunny day. Maybe when I win the lottery… And I’m assuming, by the lack of response from Spiezia and Lavera, that they don’t have the right answer to my question. Hence the aarghhh.

Right now it seems to me that nobody does the whole package when it comes to ethical skincare: all the right ingredients without the packaging and at an affordable price. This is only the beginning, though, so I’m going to try and stay positive. There are a couple of other companies on my radar that I’m going to check out, and I’ve decided to not buy anything else like this (unless I have to) until I get to The Big Green Gathering – I’m holding out hope that there will be lots of things to choose from there that will meet all my needs. Please?

Challenge 2: Sun Protection

2009-07-15T22:18:00.001+01:00

Euch. I have just spent the last hour trawling the internet trying to find some sun cream that doesn’t come wrapped in plastic, and I’m feeling entirely disheartened. Bron and I are off to a festival in a couple of weeks time – The Big Green Gathering – and sun protection is an absolute must. Aside from the obvious issues with skin cancer, etc, I always burn. Yes, my skin generally has two tones: white or red.

I was hoping to be able to find a solid cream, like Lush’s solid shampoo, or at least something that comes in a glass bottle, but haven’t been able to find anything. There are a couple of companies I found that come near, but not quite. Spiezia Organics make a range of skincare products that use purely organic ingredients with no chemicals or additives, plus most of their products come packaged in glass. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it? And yes it is, except that they don’t seem to make any sun block – after-sun, yes, great, but not the protection you need beforehand.

I also found a company called Lavera that, again, make skincare products without the yuck. But it looks like all their products come in plastic tubes or plastic bottles. There is a sun protection spray that looks promising, but I can’t tell from the picture whether it’s in a plastic or a glass bottle. I’ve emailed them to ask, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be plastic.

And then there’s Badger, who’ve got a great range of balms for all sorts of things. You can buy some of them in Boots. For the most part they come in little metal tins - they’re pretty good and they do what they say on the tin. If you ever have trouble sleeping I can definitely recommend their sleep balm. However, like Spiezia, they only do an after-sun balm – there is a sun protection lotion, but as it’s not a solid balm it comes in a little plastic tube. They do an anti-bug balm, though, so I’m thinking I’ll see if I can a pot of that, as I’m sure there’ll be some midges to contend with at the festival.

But that still leaves me without any sun cream. With any luck, one of the companies I’ve tried contacting will get back to me with some good news, but if not then I’m afraid the plastic will not be able to be avoided. If I do have to buy plastic, though, I’ll be making sure that it’s an ethical product that contains only natural ingredients.

The New Deodorant

2009-07-15T21:24:00.003+01:00

‘A transition period? What sort of transition period?’ I ask the assistant in Lush. She is explaining to me that swapping from a plastic-packaged chemical antiperspirant to one of their more natural deodorant bars may not be as simple as I thought.

‘Well, because you’ve been using an antiperspirant, there’ll be a build-up of sweat toxins that are waiting to come out, so you may find that in the first couple of weeks these will all be released,’ she explains.

‘So basically I’m going to smell?’

‘Err… yeah. But don’t worry,’ she adds hastily, ‘it’ll only be for a bit until your body gets used to the change. I just have to warn you in case you think it’s not working.’

Hmm, maybe the middle of July isn’t the best time to try this? But now is as good as ever. I’ll know the transition period has kicked in when everyone at works starts sitting on the opposite side of the staff room from me at lunch time…

Challenge 1: Skincare

2009-07-15T21:21:00.001+01:00

The first real challenge arrived a few days ago. I knew it was coming, but I spent several days in denial beforehand, wondering whether I could possibly get away with ignoring it and just buying what I usually do.

I’ve never really used shower gels, but instead for the last couple of years I’ve been washing with aqueous cream. I have a tendency to get patches of eczema, so aqueous cream is great because it’s soft and doesn’t dry out your skin like soap can. Also it’s pretty cheap at only £1.99 for a big tub full. But those nice big tubs? They’re plastic of course.

I struggled for several days thinking about what I could use instead – something moisturising to protect against eczema won’t come back, but that doesn’t come delivered in a plastic bottle, and ideally as packaging free as possible. Regular soap, maybe? It’s easy to find soap in just a paper wrapper, but what effect would this have on my skin? At first I thought about making my own, so I went to the health shelves in the bookstore where I work and found some books on natural beauty.

These books have got lots of interesting hints and tips, but boy does it sound time consuming. And expensive. Aside from getting hold of the various ingredients (whilst trying to avoid the inevitable plastic packaging), there’s a whole list of equipment that you need just to get started. I wound up having a good moan to my friend, C, about it. And she said: ‘Lush.’ And I said: ‘Lush? Really?’ Because I walk past the door of our local Lush store everyday and I have never once been tempted to go inside. In fact, more often than not, I complain about the smell emanating from the doorway. But C said: ‘Really.’

So I went to Lush. And guess what? I was quite impressed. Solid shampoo that doesn’t come in a bottle, lots of nice moisturising soaps and creams, and even solid deodorant. Lots of their products are solid so don’t come in anything other than waxed paper, plus if you do buy something in a tub, you can return said tub when it’s empty and the Lush team recycle them. What a genius concept: so simple, really, when you think about it. Why don’t more retailers do this?

So, I chose a soap, great, but I also came out with new deodorant. I’ve been using the same brand of antiperspirant for a good ten years simply because it’s the one that worked for me so I kept buying it. A roll-on in a little plastic pot. But as soon as I stopped to think about it (thank you, C) I realise what an antiperspirant really is: anti = against, + perspirant = sweat; ‘against sweat’. All these years I’ve literally been preventing my body from performing its natural function of sweating. That can’t be good, surely. The Lush assistant explained to me that by using antiperspirants we prevent our bodies from sweating, which results in a build-up of toxins inside that can’t get out through their normal escape route – and there have been some tentative links made between this and the occurrence of breast cancer. Goodbye antiperspirant, hello deodorant bar.

My Big Bad Plan

2009-07-14T19:01:00.000+01:00

The big question is where to start. There’s lot of plastic in my life right now, a lot more than I ever really think about on a daily basis. Food, toiletries, cleaning products, you name it and it’s probably been wrapped in plastic at some point during it’s life.

The fact is, I’m too much of a chicken to turn around and change everything all at once. This is because (a) Bron would probably have a heart attack, (b) it would probably be quite expensive, and (c) I figure that too much change in one go is less likely to stick in the long term. Little steps, one challenge at a time, is much easier to contemplate.

So, my Big Bad Anti-Plastic Plan is simple: each time I need to replace something, whether it’s a loaf of bread or a toothbrush, I’ll try to find that item without plastic. If you’re superstitious, keep your fingers crossed for me, and hopefully it really will be that simple!

Before We Begin...

2009-07-14T18:45:00.003+01:00

If I’m going to find a way of not letting any plastic into my home or my life, there’s a certain set of assumptions I’ll have to work from. I’ve thought quite long and hard about these over the last few weeks, and tried to apply some logic to it. So here goes…

1. I’m not going to start throwing out everything made of plastic that's already in my home. That would mean getting rid of the casing of this computer that I’m writing on, which definitely isn’t going to work. Besides, throwing plastic out just for the sake of it is only going to make matters worse – it’s only going to add to the piles of waste that are already out there, and it’ll be wasting the products that are within those plastic bottles and bags. So, I’ll work my way through all those little bottles of bubble bath sitting on my bathroom shelf, and when they’re empty I’ll save the bottles to use for something else or I’ll recycle them. What I will be doing is not buying any more to add to the collection.

2. There may be certain things that it’s not practical or appropriate to give up, or possible to avoid. Hopefully there won’t be too many circumstances that fall into to this category, but the main thing I’m thinking of here is medication and medical equipment. I'm fortunate that I'm a young and healthy individual and don’t rely on medication for anything, except for the occasional allergy such as hayfever. But if something should go wrong and I or my partner need medical care, I won’t be turning that down if they bring out a plastic tube or something wrapped in a plastic bag.

3. I will try and talk to people about what I’m doing, why I’m doing it, and what my aims are, but I’m not going to force it upon them. And I’m not going to expect my friends to try and avoid things that come in plastic for my sake – if they want to then that’s great, the more people I can get involved the better. I know some of them will, but I also know some of them won’t, and the last thing I want to do is ostracise them. So if I go to a friend’s house for dinner and they produce salad from a bag, I’m going to eat up, thank you very much. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s their rubbish after all, and they’d probably produce it whether I was there or not. Maybe I can convert a few along the way though!

4. On the subject of friends, there’s my boyfriend, Bron. We live together and so he’s going to be involved in the changes I make whether he likes it or not, but I’m not going to force him to make all the same changes for himself unless he wants to. I really hope he will want to, of course, but I know certain things are going to take longer for him to come around to than others. He’s happy to watch me try, though, which is great, and he’ll have to come along for the ride if we’re buying anything that we share, such as food, but if it’s his personal things (shampoo for instance), then I’ll leave that decision up to him.

Ok, well I think that’s it. At least, I hope that’s it...

A Life Less Plastic

2009-07-14T18:35:00.001+01:00

I’ve been thinking about plastic more and more over the last few years. The evils of the plastic bag had been on my radar for some time, but you know how it is, you just think ‘Everybody else is using them, is it really going to make a difference if I stop?’

Then I read ‘The World Without Us’ by Alan Weisman. Seriously, I would recommend this book to anyone. And in that book there’s a whole chapter about plastic. Not just plastic bags, but all sorts of different types of plastic and the horrible things they’re doing to the environment. I was shocked. And that’s not really a strong enough word – try 'disgusted'.

I’ve always thought of myself as being fairly environmentally aware, even though I know I don’t live a particularly ethical lifestyle, but there are some things in this book that I hadn’t ever thought about before. But what could I possibly do about it? Well, at the end of the day, I figure you’ve got to start small, and the most obvious place to begin is to stop buying plastic in the first place: if I’m not buying it, then I won’t be throwing it away either.

So here I am and this is my blog on giving up plastic. Well, trying to give up plastic, anyway. I guess time will tell to see how I do, and how possible it even is in this world of modern convenience. I’m feeling pretty determined, though.