It was time for decision. The choice was clear. The lines were drawn. Passions sometimes run high in this game--so can the stakes. Now it was my  to choose, like so many before me...

     "Do you want paper or plastic?"  asked the checker.

     O.K., the skirmish was a minor one in the Environmental Battle for the Planet, but one repeated everyday in thousands of markets across the nation.  All-natural, brown paper bags labeled, "Keep the Earth Green...Recycle" compete for consumer loyalty against plastic ones emblazoned, "Save a Tree." It is hard to come away with a clear conscience when both sides seem so downright sincere. Of course, I could just shop in my own environmentally correct, reusable, dye-free 100% cotton canvas bag, but it's hard to spoon a week's groceries into one. Slowly but surely, we are being reminded of Newton's Third Law of Motion,  that every action produces an equal but opposite reaction.

     In our zeal to fix a problem, we sometimes fail to consider the consequences, often creating more problems than we solve. Current wisdom--or at least the latest scientific research,  quoted in this month's New England Journal of Medicine--is often accepted as absolute gospel, only to be disproved a generation or two down the road. McDonald's abandonment of plastic containers in favor of equally difficult-to-recycle coated paper wraps is a good example. Lest we forget, the polystyrene clamshells came about in response to a nationwide paper shortage and in concurrence with popular scientific opinion. At least, their efforts were voluntary. But how often have "solutions" been mandated? Remember cyclamates? First banned as potentially carcinogenic, cyclamates were replaced by then "safe", now proscribed for "causing cancer in laboratory animals" saccharine, which in turn, has been followed by safer-yet aspartame (now currently under fire for its potential side effects). Phenylketonurics beware. Meanwhile, cyclamates were quietly exonerated.

     Even recycling needs fine-tuning before it becomes a practical reality for many of us. On-premises recycling bins might have helped avert some of the bad publicity from McDonald's plastic containers.  (A good PR campaign that they were CFC-free and had been for years might have helped, too.)  Proctor & Gamble advertises that disposable diapers are now 80% recyclable; unfortunately, they require commercial treatment, and I am not aware of any treatment or disposal centers other than the nearest dumpster. Don't get me wrong, caring for the earth is responsible stewardship. I'd much rather live here than wallow here. Short of launching garbage scows into deep space, recycling is probably our best bet. The problem is cooperation and coordination.

     So, how to get 300 million, freedom-loving Americans to voluntarily do what is best for them? By making it CONVENIENT, of course. In America, if it isn't quick and easy, it probably won't get done. Recycling seems to have been most effective where it has been made as simple as taking out the trash (as opposed to collecting a car-load of empties until we remember to make a run to the nearest recycling center). Disposable goods were invented to accommodate our increasingly busy and time-crunched society. To harried, working parents (not to mention day care workers) who have neither the time nor the desire to wash out dirty diapers, disposables are not less a marvel today than when they were invented. As home ownership gives way to apartment occupancy for many, storage space is also at a premium. Most apartments are really not designed to accommodate either diaper hampers or recycling bins; however, most do discourage unsanitary living conditions brought on by letting garbage pile up.

     For corporate America to sign on, any change has to be practical...or should I say, profitable? "Out of the goodness of our hearts" is not a maxim generally taught in business school nor is it dwelt upon in most boardrooms. Business bows to the dollar. It can't afford to produce what the public won't buy. The bottom line is...well, the bottom line. If they could see it as a marketing tool, rather than a liability, perhaps P & G might someday run a collection service for all those disposable diapers, establishing both good will as well as their advertising claim. Can't you see it? A recycling truck lumbering down the street, sporting the logo of a popular brand of disposable diapers and the environmentally friendly motto: "No leaks!"
 
 

© Russ Brown, 1997