I was recently turned on to the blog Fake Plastic Fish, and today author Beth Terry presents an artist's cogent comment to a representative of the plastics industry. I enjoyed reading it, and I think you will too! [Link]
Say you consider yourself a conscious consumer (and I suspect that many readers do). When given a choice between a traditional product and its greener counterpart, you buy the latter. Now, what if it turned out that you'd been misled about the sustainability of all but a few of your purchases?
That's pretty much the conclusion of "The Seven Sins of Greenwashing," published by Canadian firm TerraChoice: 98 percent of so-called natural or environmentally friendly products sold in the U.S. make false or misleading claims. The report garnered lots of headlines echoing its indignation when it came out earlier this year, and another wave of media attention came earlier this month in the wake of a congressional hearing on defining fair
green-marketing practices (TerraChoice vice president M. Scot Case was among the witnesses who
testified).
I think it's helpful, however, to think about the difference between marketing hype and out-and-out deceit. The greenwashing "sins" enumerated by TerraChoice's report include not only lies (like the supposedly Energy Star-approved refrigerator Case himself bought that wasn't) and the use of fictional third-party certification logos—in other words, deliberate disinformation—but also things like vagueness (claims that are "poorly defined or broad") and irrelevance (like proclaiming a product is "CFC-free" despite the fact that CFCs are banned by law).
I'm not so sure that those last two examples amount to greenwashing so much as they amount to greenhyping (if I may coin the term). I go back and forth on this, but recently I've begun to lean toward a stricter definition of "greenwash," in part because of sustainable-business guru Joel Makower's thoughts on the subject.
The way I figure, all kinds of products make all kinds of exaggerated claims. For example, this post in comedian Jennifer Dziura's blog points to a shampoo that says it gives hair a "mirror-like shine." If that were even possible, she writes, mightn't the product's maker incur some criminal liability for making looking at people's hair "equivalent to staring directly at the sun"?
Such hyperbole in traditional products is unfortunate, but the fact is, we're so used to it that most of us don't even give it a second thought. There's no reason we can't apply the same skepticism to products in the green marketplace. In fact, in many cases we already do. I'm reminded of this bag (at left) that I got at some grocery store or other. Not only did I laugh at the contention that the piece of brown paper in my hand could "save our planet" but I also knew perfectly well that the environment would have been better served if I'd remembered to bring a reusable sack from home. Greenwashing? Meh. Greenhyping? Definitely.
It's worth reading Makower's take on the "Seven Sins" report. He points out that it's hard to know what percentage of sins in the 2,000-plus products examined by TerraChoice are what he'd consider justified criticisms and what amount to "nit-picking" on the part of the authors, because the report is guilty of the same lack of transparency it complains about in some of the products it analyzed. "There are no products named, no sinners shamed," Makower writes. (To which I say: That's probably because TerraChoice is an environmental marketing company. Since it makes money by helping companies become greener, it wouldn't necessarily be in its interests to name names.)
I'm not trying to completely diss "The Seven Sins of Greenwashing"—in fact, I find its categorization of the different ways green marketing can go astray quite useful—I'm just saying its big takeaway comes across as a bit sensationalist. If every instance of greenhyping gets lumped into the "greenwashing" category, that has the effect of drowning out the true crimes.
Virtue may be its own reward, but it often comes with a hefty price tag.
This is true not only for individuals—witness, for example, the comparatively high price of organic vs. conventional produce—but also for businesses. Companies interested in making themselves more responsible rarely have the economic incentive to do so, especially in today's belt-tightening climate. In fact, more often than not, they have an incentive not to engage in practices that are better for people and the environment.
A new (well, relatively new) approach to consumer activism is out to change all that. It's called Carrotmob. A for-profit (though not-yet-profitable) project of San Francisco–based Virgance, Carrotmob aligns opposing economic incentives like a good mash-up makes disparate pop songs hook up.
How? By getting competing companies to list the green improvements they'd be willing to make to their business if they received a significant infusion of cash, and then getting consumers to band together on a given day and make coordinated purchases at the business with the strongest offer—thereby funding its commitment.
At the first Carrotmob event, which took place last year in San Francisco (and which I, flailing about in the haze of new parenthood, unfortunately missed), a convenience store called K&D Market was inundated with hundreds of customers who lined up outside for the chance to spend money there. In a few hours, the shop raked in more than three times what it normally makes on a good day. Consequently, it was able to lower its carbon footprint by replacing its lighting system with a more energy-efficient one and making improvements to its refrigerators.
Since then, Carrotmob events either have taken place or are being planned in 21 other cities, 16 of them in the U.S. Any readers out there in Portland, Oregon? Help a local business get more energy-efficient by eating some pizza this Sunday.
As someone who's obsessed with the notion of helping consumers align their values with their spending habits, I love the concept of Carrotmob. I especially love the fact that it's reward-based rather than punitive. I mean, boycotts are all well and good, but buycotts are more fun—and, it seems, potentially more powerful. Carrotmob is basically a mass buycott on steroids.
I can see only a couple of possible downsides. One occurred to me as I watched the video of the San Francisco event (see it here). I couldn't help but wonder: Say I'm at a convenience-store-type Carrotmob; how many of the products on those shelves are made by companies I really want to support? Especially if I'm at the end of the line and there's not much left to buy. I spotted in the video a lot of little packages of junk food, as well as toilet paper that for all I know is made from virgin-forest pulp.
Also, for an establishment to attract a good mob, it's got to have mass appeal. So too bad, little vegan shoe boutique, I don't think you're ever going to get a Carrotmob.
But perhaps I split hairs.
Mainly I'm happy Carrotmob exists, I look forward to the next event I can participate in, and I'm curious to see how much momentum this movement gains.
Uh-oh, I just realized I'm falling behind on my goal of posting at least once a month. So here, pretend it's a week and a half ago, and allow me to link to a piece I wrote last year for Alonovo, back when they had a paid-blogging gig. Pardon the eye-taxing white text on black background...
Chalk up another victory for voting with your wallet and mouthing off to corporations: Earlier this month, the six largest American baby-bottle manufacturers announced that they'd voluntarily stop selling bottles containing bisphenol A (BPA) in the United States. BPA is an endocrine-disrupting chemical found in polycarbonate (as well as in canned food linings) that has been linked to a range of health problems, such as impaired neurological development in children, diabetes, heart disease, and obesity.
That's great news for American parents. However, I was surprised to learn from this article (thanks, Matt!) that the bottle makers will continue to sell the BPA-containing products in the U.K.
It's unexpected because of the wider pattern that characterizes the different approaches to chemical safety taken by the United States vs. Europe. Across the pond, it's the precautionary principle. If a growing body of research indicates that a substance is potentially harmful, you can't use it: The risks of not acting outweigh the risks of acting, even in the absence of scientific certainty of harm. In America, the philosophy is essentially innocent until proven guilty; if there's "no evidence" of harm (never mind the fact that oftentimes no safety assessments are ever performed, as is the case with so many personal-care-product ingredients), no problem!
What an intriguing reversal. Mind you, BPA is not banned in the U.S., where our applicable agency, the (insert your own characterization here: "lax"? "on crack"?) FDA still considers it safe; the baby-bottle victory occurred thanks to the court of public opinion. But usually—as happened with phthalates—such voluntary actions on the part of companies happen because Europe banned the chemical first.
Yet BPA is still permitted in the European Union. What gives? Are all those scientific reports raising suspicions about BPA not credible? Personally, I find that hard to believe. Yet STATS, a nonpartisan nonprofit affiliated with George Mason University, points to the European Food Safety Authority's 2006 report on BPA that concludes that the substance is safe.
Of course, that was a couple years ago; this is now. And while poking around online, I did find this letter (pdf) from four European NGOs expressing concern about BPA to the European Parliament last month.
This is something I'll be watching with great interest in the months ahead.
... But only in Britain and Ireland. Still, progress is progress! [Link]
I have to put up a quick plug for a new website by flour maker Stone-Buhr. Full disclosure: The company just paid me to write some copy about it on their packaging. But it's very cool and exactly the type of thing that I'm interested in!
FindTheFarmer.com lets you type in the lot number on your package of flour and see where the wheat that went into it came from. Most wheat that we consume is an anonymous commodity hailing from who-knows-where, but Stone-Buhr has cultivated relationships with bona-fide independent family farms in the Pacific Northwest and is, I believe, the first company to offer identity-preserved flour, as it's called. Not only that, but these farms are using sustainable methods certified by the Food Alliance. Interestingly, the flour is not organic, but it's still considered sustainable. That's a post for another day...
... and every day, especially if you are hoping to conceive a child. That's according to this UCLA study (pdf), mentioned in this L.A. Times story, which my friend Ben forwarded to me. And since Valentine's Day always makes me think about the birds and the bees, I thought I'd pass it on. I've blogged about perfluorinated compounds (PFCs) before, but this is the first I've heard of the infertility angle.
The other day, my father-in-law sent me a clipping of this article from the Wall Street Journal, about the flight of entrepreneurs and investment capital from California. (My in-laws had been thinking of moving here, but the high cost of living has made them reconsider.)
One part of the story struck a particular chord in me. The writer, Republican lawmaker Devin Nunes, chose the following as an example of a particularly burdensome state regulation: "this year a new law enacted by ballot initiative bans cages chicken farmers use on the grounds that it is inhuman[e] to put birds in cages that prevent them from spreading their wings. Complying with the new law will cost farmers hundreds of millions of dollars..."
Now, I know the economic basics at work here. Of course the law will cost farmers money and no doubt force some of them out of the egg business. And that's a shame.
However, I found it funny that Nunes would choose the new cage law to personify burdensome regulation. Surely there must be hundreds of equally onerous laws that aren't quite so inviting of sympathy on the face of them. Birds having space to spread their wings? What an outrageous notion!
Is my world view really so different from the intended readers of Nunes's opinion piece? Yes, apparently. As my father-in-law put it, "To these people, letting chickens spread their wings is just as ridiculous as the idea that people with brown hair and blue eyes should pay more income tax than others. To them, compassion for sentient beings isn't even on the list of things one should care about."
That may be so, but I know I'm not alone, because on the door of the egg refrigerator at the food co-op where I shop is a chart showing which farmers use cages, which debeak the birds, etc., and it's the brand that exemplifies the most humane practices that's always in highest demand.
A few points about the new law on lead and phthalates in children's products:
A minor furor erupted about it recently on my local parents' email list. Everyone is in favor of protecting kids from hazardous substances, of course, but people worried about some pretty important unintended consequences of the law's vague wording.
The Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act, which goes into effect on Feb. 10, applies to all products intended for people under age 13—including apparel. Under the law, all such products must be certified as complying with the new lead safety standard. Any untested items are considered hazardous and therefore illegal to sell.
Would secondhand stores like the one in our neighborhood where many of us outfit our kids be forced to send perfectly good used clothes to the landfill, and either stop selling children's clothes or go out of business because they couldn't afford the costly tests?
No, thankfully. This past Thursday the Consumer Product Safety Commission issued a press release clarifying that resellers are not required to do the costly tests. It will still be illegal to sell products containing lead, of course, so stores must carefully screen their offerings to guard against, for example, shoes adorned with lead charms.
***
However, there's more at stake here than used-clothes sellers. What must also be considered are the livelihoods of Etsy sellers and small natural-toy makers, like the guy I met at the Green Festival last year who complained about having to limit his line of wooden vegetable-themed figurines because he would have to spend money testing not only, for example, the jalapeño toy but also the lettuce one, even though they were made from the same materials, right down to the paint.
Here's a great Z Recommends post about the issue; it includes a bunch of actions you can take to help spur reforms before the law goes into effect, including submitting a comment to the Consumer Product Safety Commission.
***
Finally, there's the phthalates loophole. As this story details, this past November, three months after the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act was passed, a legal firm successfully petitioned the Consumer Product Safety Commission to apply the phthalate ban only to products manufactured on or after Feb. 10 (when the law goes into effect)—which means stores can keep selling phthalate-laden products for who knows how long after the law takes effect, and consumers have no way of knowing the items aren't free of the endocrine-disrupting chemicals.
So, the NRDC and Public Citizen have sued.
Lucky for me and other California residents, a new state law protects us from such shenanigans. As of this year, in the Golden State, it doesn't matter when the product was made; if it doesn't meet the safety standard, it doesn't get sold here.
I just hope the feds get on board with that.
Change is good
