Yogurt

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?

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

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

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

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

“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

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.