The No Plastic Project

The value of a pen

    When I was in my early 20s, a friend gave me a fountain pen for my birthday. I loved it. It went everywhere with me through my undergraduate and graduate years. I used it daily in all my classes, taking notes, writing essays (those were the days before everyone had a laptop!). I wrote bad poetry with it and scribbled reams in my journal. My pen had a value that went beyond its material nature: it connected me to the friend who had given it to me, to all the words I had written with it. The familiar feel of it in my hand and against the paper was a comfort and a pleasure. 

    Then, one day, in the final years of my Phd, I lost it in Robarts Library at the UofT, on the 13th floor, somewhere in the PR section. I searched that section of the stacks for years afterward, but never found it. I've never quite gotten over the loss of that pen. I had used it for nearly 10 years.

    Fourteen years later, last June, my family bought me a fountain pen for my birthday. A new relationship has begun!

    In the 14 years between those two pens — estimating that I used, say, 15-20 disposable pens a year — I must have thrown away between 200 and 300 plastic pens. Without even really thinking about it. Crazy.

    When we started the No Plastic Project two years ago, I vowed never to buy another disposable plastic pen. Yet the house is still full of them! We had so many to begin with, and they seem to

multiply on their own. They walk into our house in loot bags. They are urged on us as give-aways from the bank, from our mortgage broker, from the local garage. Even Unicef included a cheap plastic pen in a fundraising package they mailed to us last year!

    The beaches of the Midway islands are littered with plastic pens, many of them washed up on shore, and many of them lying in the skeletal remains of the thousands of dead albatrosses there, choked to death on plastic garbage. I try to imagine the notes, the shopping lists, the to-do lists that were written with those discarded pens and weigh all those words against the terrible deaths experienced by these birds. 

    We've gotten so used to the convenience of disposable pens — that are made to be trash, that we can throw away without thought, that are always at hand — it's hard to imagine the world before they existed. Pens have become just one more item to add to the list of material things that have lost their intrinsic value through our plastic age of consumption. 

    Soon after my no plastic pledge, I bought a refillable stainless steel ballpoint pen that I quite like. I keep it in the kitchen to write cheques, notes, lists. I keep my new fountain pen handy in my purse. I use a lot of pencils (those ones made from recycled newspaper). Once all the disposables finally run out in our house, I will buy a few more good refillable ballpoints to have around. And I plan to buy each of my kids a beautiful fountain pen when they graduate from high school.

 

Stop using plastic produce bags -- please!

Pssst! Wanna hear a nice, simple way to reduce your plastic use? OK, here it is. Stop using plastic produce bags at the grocery store!

Despite being a self-proclaimed No Plastic Avenger, I am acutely aware that before I started learning about plastic pollution, I bought many products in plastic without even thinking about it. And I know I probably do a hundred things a day that would make someone else crazy, from an environmental perspective (not to mention all my other bad habits). So I don't usually judge people for their plastic consumption habits. Plastic is all around us, and lots of people simply don't know about the problems it causes for human health and the environment.

Nevertheless, watching people put fruit and vegetables into plastic produce bags at the grocery store really, really gets my plastic goat. Frankly, it makes my grocery shopping trips a nightmare. You may think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. Why do people do this? (Why did I ever do it?!) It drives me nuts!

You don't need to put a cucumber (and don't even get me started on the shrink-wrapped ones) into an extra bag. Oranges have tough skins and don't need extra protection. And besides, those flimsy bags don't protect anything. Nor do you need a bag to keep your produce clean. After all, were you really going to bite into that apple, or serve your family that broccoli, without washing it first? Nor has any cashier ever complained to me about ringing through a bunch of loose potatoes, kiwis, pears, or anything else.

Somehow I find it even more upsetting when the same people who put their lettuce and tomatoes and sweet potatoes -- or sometimes even a single melon or squash, for pete's sake! -- into disposable plastic produce bags say "no" to a plastic carrier bag at the cash register. Of course I think bringing your own bags (and not just for grocery shopping) is great. But doesn't it seem strange to avoid the plastic carrier bags and then fill up your reusable ones with a whole bunch of other plastic bags?

If you do want bags for your produce (and for green beans or brussels sprouts or other small things, of course you do need a bag), use cloth ones. Or re-use any plastic bag that you unfortunately still have on hand at home. The Metro in the Glebe has reusable nylon mesh produce bags for sale right in the produce section -- as does the Independent at Billings Bridge. Small produce-sized bags are also available in many other forms at many other stores (Natural Food Pantry, Arbour, etc.). You can even order them on-line through Amazon, or from Wakefield-based Life Without Plastic and many other on-line sources.

Pledge to stop using plastic straws and get a free glass one!

This month, Simply Straws in the US is giving away a free glass straw to anyone who pledges to stop using plastic ones. Just follow this link to their website for details. All you need to do is post your pledge against using plastic straws on their facebook page. I asked, and they do send to Canada, and they package their straws in recycled cardboard.

Check the streets and gutters: you'll see plastic straws everywhere. They're the ultimate in waste - not recyclable, not re-usable, and scarcely a necessity. Don't even get me started on all those craft projects that use them. My daughter recently brought home a "spring flower" perched on a plastic straw stem in celebration of the season. Ack.
Luckily, straws are one of the easiest single-use(less) plastic items to refuse. The main challenge is just remembering to say, "No straw please" to servers before the drinks arrive (and you have to be quick if you're in a place where they bring water as soon as you sit down). And, of course, refusing take-out drinks like slushies that come in plastic cups with lids and straws. My kids have managed to down thick milkshakes without any straw at all, but there are times when a straw is helpful or fun, so having glass or stainless steel ones handy at home and when you're out is a good idea.

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The flowers that bloom in the spring tra-la!

I walked to Cedars with my husband and daughter on Sunday to buy a few things for lunch. The crocuses are up, and tulips are poking through the earth in gardens all over the neighbourhood.

But not all the flowers that bloom in this early, climate change-induced spring are lovely.

The pictures here represent the plastic garbage I collected along the full length of Woodbine Place to Grosvenor, along Grosvenor to Cameron, and up Cameron to Bank. I didn't pick up anything on Bank Street or Sunnyside. A lot of what I found was poised over sewer grates, ready to begin its journey into our waterways. Much of the rest would eventually have worked its way into the ground, or blown directly into the river.

I suppose some of this stuff is litter that people actually dropped on the ground, on purpose. But I suspect a lot is accidental litter that blew out of recycling boxes or cars or public bins, or fell unintended or unnoticed from people's hands, or escaped from pockets or bags.

Avoiding plastic is the main way to reduce plastic pollution. But picking up what's on the ground is important, too.

It's hard not to feel odd about stooping to pick up bits of garbage from the street. I wondered what people thought when they stopped to pat my dog as I was waiting outside the store for my daughter and husband: "Cute dog, but what's with the bag full of muddy cup lids and plastic water bottles?"

But if we don't get this stuff safely into our own garbage or recycling bins, it will eventually find its way into our waterways and soil. Landfill isn't great, but it's better than the alternative.

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Fashion crime: plastic clothing

We don't usually think of polyester fabric as plastic, but it is. And while you probably already knew that natural fibre clothing looks and feels better, you might not have realized that "plastic" clothing is a source of pollution. Its fibres contaminate our waterways with microplastic particles, absorbing other toxic chemicals in the water, and introducing these and the plastics into the food chain through the animals that ingest them. (This article explains the process well.)

In a study published in 2011, scientists found microplastic from clothing in samples from eighteen beaches around the world. To establish the fibres' origins, they tested sewerage, as well as the water discharged from washing machines. According to Dr. Mark Browne from the University of California, "some polyester garments released more than 1,900 fibres per garment, per wash." (quoted in this BBC news story on the research).

Going naked isn't really an option for most of us, but we can try to reduce this plastic pollution by choosing clothes, bedding, towels, and other items made from natural fibres such as cotton (organic, ideally...), wool, and hemp.

Another partial solution is secondhand clothes. Even if they're synthetic, at least you're not placing a demand for more new ones on the market - and you can find nice, non-synthetic clothes at good prices secondhand. In Old Ottawa South, we're lucky to have The Clothes Secret and Boomerang Kids nearby, but there are lots of other places to buy quality secondhand clothes in the city, too, like the women's consignment clothing stores on this list. (Just remember to bring your own bag so you don't undo your efforts by carrying your purchase out of the store in plastic - and as we pointed out in an earlier post, there are problems with "biodegradable" or "compostable" plastic bags!)

Also, we can buy fewer clothes, take better care of the ones we have - which may include putting them in the wash a bit less often - and do more fixing and mending. A lot of my kids' clothes are secondhand, anyway, but when I looked in my daughter's closet the other day, I had to ask myself: "Just how many fleece hoodies does one little girl need?"

When it comes to outdoor wear, Patagonia's Common Threads Initiative seems to show a good attitude and practice. And MEC is great about fixing their merchandise to extend its life, and has other sustainability initiatives like their on-line gear swap.

Of course, fabric isn't the only plastic in clothing. There are also labels, tags, single-use hangers, decorative add-ons, and packaging. And buying on-line often means more packaging you can't control, so it's worth asking about packaging before you buy, or going to the store yourself to avoid it.

Seeing the numbers

Sometimes it’s hard to connect to the numbers.

According to a recent article in The Guardian, 265 million tonnes of plastic are produced globally each year; and of this, around 170 million tonnes are largely produced to be disposed of after one use. According to the PlasticOceans Foundation, every year, around 500 billion disposable plastic bags are used worldwide.

These statistics are staggering. But they are just numbers. You can’t really see them. They aren’t personal. And as they pile up on each other, they stop having any meaning at all. They won't, in the end, motivate life-changing action. For that, people need to emotionally connect to the problem. 

 But how about something like this:

With the amount of plastic packaging thrown away globally every year, we could cover the entire US in plastic!

And this is after recycling at the (almost unmatched) EU recycling rate of 33%.  If we recycle at the US rate (15%), then the plastic garbage produced every year would be enough to cover China!*

(And of course even if we could recycle (or rather, downcycle) all that plastic into something else, we would still be stuck with 170 million tonnes worth of plastic things, generated yearly, to throw away in the long/short run.)

Now just think about the last time you went for a drive through the countryside. Imagine looking out your car window and seeing the landscape, as far as your eye can see, covered in plastic. Then imagine this extending from ocean to ocean. And then keep piling the plastic on, year after year. 

That is something I can see, and it is an image I will find hard to forget.  

So tell your grocer you don’t need those tomatoes wrapped in plastic!

*These estimates about the US and China are from the Guardian story cited above, which is definitely worth reading. 

Smooth legs; Plastic oceans

The following is from the Wikipedia entry on King Camp Gillette, the inventor of disposable razor blades:

 “While working as a salesman for the Crown Cork and Seal Company in the 1890s, Gillette saw bottle caps, with the cork seal he sold, thrown away after the bottle was opened. This made him recognize the value in basing a business on a product that was used a few times, then discarded. As existing, relatively expensive, razor blades dulled quickly and needed continuous sharpening, a razor whose blade could be thrown away when it dulled would meet a real need and likely be profitable.”

Fast forward to the culmination of Gillette’s vision: an entire razor—handle, head, blade and all—that can be used a couple of times and tossed away without a thought.

When we started the No Plastic Project in October 2010, I shamefully had a plastic bag of a dozen disposable plastic razors in my bathroom cupboard—bought on the fly, either because I didn’t want to dish out the $$$ for refill blades for my Schick razor, or I just happened to be in a rush that day, or they were easier to pack for the cottage. Basically, I bought them without thinking about it.

 Well, it’s time to start thinking about it.

Let’s think about the idea, expressed above, that a razor that could be thrown away “would meet a real need and likely be profitable.” Well, the second part of this is obviously true: the driving force creating consumer “need” is certainly the desire to make a buck, to turn a profit. But what is this need that disposable razors is meeting: The need for convenience? For ease? But what happens when we realize the costs of convenience—the reality that every discarded plastic razor will continue to litter the earth, in landfills and in our oceans, for ages to come. Do you really want to leave behind that pile of plastic for the sake of smooth legs? 

Shortly after we started the project last year, my husband put away his razor with the disposable blades and bought a straight blade razor. It's been a rather bloody journey, but he persisted and continues to use his straight razor to this day.

So I ask myself: Could I do that: shave with a straight blade razor?

Well, it seems that some women do! The blog Indecision touts it as "hard core and feminine. It is also surprisingly easy, affordable and promotes a self-care ritual that encourages you to know and love your body." And StraightRazorPlace, the "original shaving forum," devotes reams of space to advising women on how to shave with a straight razor. 

I haven't quite gotten there yet (although after researching for this post, I'm keen to try it out). Nor am I quite so revolutionary as to urge you to renounce shaving altogether. But I do urge you to choose a reusable razor and refill blades—and to join me in my pledge to never use another disposable plastic razor again.

 

Plastic-free food storage

Okay, so this is going to sound very boring, but the question still comes up in our house even after one year of trying to get the plastic out of our kitchen: "WHAT SHOULD I PUT THESE LEFTOVERS IN?"

I still open my fridge and every now and then find an old plastic container sitting on the shelf -- those ones that I didn't have the heart to throw out. They are the first thing that comes to mind in the frantic dash after dinner to get the dishes done and out of the way -- even though we know all about their toxicity. (see previous blog Personal health or planet health: it's nix on plastic either way)

So what are our alternatives?

Stainless steel food containers with lids. You can get these of various sizes from Life Without Plastic and most stores that sell environmentally friendly stuff (Arbour in the Glebe, for example). These containers are good, but expensive; and once the food goes into them, you can't see what's in there. In our house that means you more or less forget about those leftovers until they are well into their life as compost.

Glass food containers. You can get nice square ones of various sizes with stainless steel lids at Life Without Plastic, but they are also quite expensive. You can get cheaper glass food containers at most hardward stores, but they generally come with plastic lids that will crack within half a year and end up as garbage. 

Bowls with plates over them. Great idea, but again, out of sight out of mind. And the plates can slide off if you are moving things around in the fridge.

My  solution: Re-used glass food jars! I was gazing at my growing collection of assorted glass jars and lids (from jam, pasta, almond butter, pickles, etc.) one night after dinner and thought, I could just put the leftover pasta in there! La voila! They work for pasta, soups, casserole, veggies, even salads -- you name it. You can see what's in them. They come with their own lids. They are tall so they take up less space in the fridge. They are perfect. And they are free.

So. There you go. A boring little tidbit to get a little more plastic out of your life.

 

The dope on green plastic

The Stella Luna Gelato Café in our neighbourhood has a sign displayed by the cash register stating that the small, colourful plastic spoons they give out with cups of gelato are biodegradable. And further down the street, the Bridgehead offers salads in compostable plastic clamshell containers —  made from corn starch!

Biodegradable spoons ... Compostable clamshell containers ... Are we seeing the emergence of “green” plastic? Can all of us plastic activists relax and dip into our gelatos without compunction?

But what do all these labels actually mean — or, more precisely, what don’t they mean? Here are some facts to help you navigate the terminology.

 BIOPLASTICS:

“Bioplastics are just plastics made from plants.” They are derived from things like corn starch or potato starch, corn husks, or soy protein. Sounds nice and green, doesn’t it?

But it isn't quite so simple. The building blocks for making plastic are atoms of carbon and hydrogen, which you can get from oil, gas, or, in the case of bioplastics, from plant materials. But many chemicals are added in the process of “plasticizing” any of these, and as a result, plastics often contain a variety of toxic additives (such as BPA, phthlalates and other carcinogens). The label "bioplastic" doesn’t tell us what else is in the plastic, or even whether it is biodegradable. As the Plastic Pollution Coalition warns — “You could make non-biodegradable and toxic plastic out of organic corn!”

So, if you see the label “bioplastic,” it really tells you nothing about the plastic product’s environmental impact at all.

BIODEGRADABLE:

“Biodegradable” simply means the plastic will break down or disintegrate into carbon dioxide, water, and its other component parts (“inorganic compounds and biomass”) — no matter what the other parts may be, how long it takes, and what the conditions have to be for it to happen. Biodegradable plastics can be made of either plant or petroleum products, and, like all other plastics, they contain many other undisclosed chemicals, some of which may be toxic and harmful to the environment and human health.  

So, if you see the label “biodegradable,” it really tells you nothing about the possible toxicity of the plastic's component parts.

COMPOSTABLE:

According to the American Society for Testing and Materials (ASTM), in order for plastic to be labelled “compostable” it has to biodegrade within certain time and temperature limits within a "compost site of an available program" and not leave any toxic residue. Compostable plastics are usually bioplastics, but you can now also find them made from petroleum and petroleum by products. These must all decompose back into carbon dioxide, water, and “biomass” and the resulting compost must meet the criteria for eco-toxicity and support plant growth.

Sounds good, right?

But —  and it's a big but —  it seems you have no way of knowing if the product has followed ASTM standards unless it is certified by BPI (Biodegradable Products Institute). There are currently no legislated regulations with regard to compostable plastic standards. If no BPI label is visible, the consumer looking at a plastic thing that is simply labelled “compostable” has no way of knowing whether the ASTM standards have been or haven’t been met.

So, if you see the labels “compostable” and BPI certified together, they tell you that the plastic is biodegradable and nontoxic (to certain scientific standards); but if you see the label “compostable” alone, it only really tells you that the plastic might be these things. 

However — and this is the kicker — Nothing biodegrades or composts if it goes into a landfill. Landfills are not designed to promote decompostion. Because of lack of oxygen and moisture, as BPI tells us, “trash entering landfills essentially retains its original weight, volume and form for the entire active life of the landfill.” 

The only way to compost “compostable” plastic (apart from at home in your backyard composter over a very, very long period of time) is through a commercial composting facility, which Ottawa currently doesn’t have. The City of Ottawa does not accept any kind of plastic, compostable or not, in the green bin program.  

What this all boils down to is that your compostable plastic spoon  — no matter how certified it is —  becomes plain old garbage when you throw it away. It goes straight to the landfill, where it will not biodegrade but remain a plastic spoon until the end of time.

Okay, okay, you say, so what if tomorrow the City of Ottawa acquired the facilities to process compostable plastics?  Would a plastic spoon made from a non-food plant source that was totally compostable, biodegradable, free of toxins during manufacturing, and manufactured and composted in a sustainable way be the answer?

In fact, it wouldn’t. In the end, we would still have to ask ourselves, "Do I really need to use this piece of plastic for ten minutes and then throw it away?" The hard truth is that “everything we consume comes from the natural world — it is extracted, mined, farmed, grown, fished, cut down — and the resources on this planet are limited” (Worldcentric). If I can choose between using 1 stainless steel spoon for my remaining years (with a little effort) or thousands of disposable spoons (with no effort), I would choose the first option. 

PPC succintly sums it up: “With almost 7 billion people in the planet, a throwaway culture addicted to disposable plastics is likely to continue harming our environment, whether these are made out of oil, or of plants. We believe that rethinking our habits and our uses of plastic is as important as rethinking the material itself.”

Bring a spoon with you to eat your gelato. Or ask for a real spoon — which, I am happy to say, Stella Luna is pleased to offer to their eat-in patrons. Or choose a cone and avoid the packaging entirely!

Personal health or planet health: it's nix on plastic either way

We're posting a link again -- this time to a short article from the Psychology Today website, dealing with some of the effects of plastic on human health. Motivation for change on an issue with broad social or ecological ramifications can start with thinking about how we, or those we love, are personally affected. From there, maybe we can move on to thinking about broader effects.

Making your Home a Plastic-Free Zone was written by Conner Middelmann Whitney, a nutritionist, chef, and health writer who publishes on anti-cancer living and diets. We found it  thanks to Beth Terry's blog, My Plastic-Free Life -- a great resource on this topic (see the sidebar link).

Whitney's tips are clear and really useful. And her final message: For so many reasons -- health, environment, and financial -- it's worth the effort to get into your kitchen cupboards and make them plastic-free!