Wallet Mouth

Of tubs and tubers

Pardon the gush, but I just have to share this fantastic, anti-plastic-licious tidbit with you: The folks at Straus Family Creamery are working on replacing their plastic yogurt tubs with a biodegradable potato-based alternative by the end of the year.

Ever since I recently internalized the fact that plastic recycling isn't very green (in terms of both people and the environment), I've been trying to decrease the amount of the stuff that comes into my life. I'm no Beth Terry, though, and my refrigerator in particular is home to a fair number of plastic containers: tubs of hummus, salsa, and especially yogurt.

Mostly I buy Straus yogurt. I love the way it tastes and the way it's made (organically, but beyond that, it's cooled in metal vats, not the plastic tubs you buy it in). And, as you can tell from my two entries on the company in the Boycotts & Buycotts section of this blog (lower right), I have a lot of respect for Straus's business practices. For example, I'm really into the fact that I can buy its awesome milk in a returnable glass container.

Now I have even more respect. The reason Straus is pursuing the potato-based tubs instead of what's emerging as the standard compostable packaging, corn-based PLA—which isn't as environmentally friendly as it seems—is that, as marketing manager Liz Scatena told me, Straus has "a very strict policy against GMOs. We do not want them in our products, nor do we want to support their growth." The corn in PLA is genetically modified, and lots of pesticides are used to grow it.

I look forward to seeing Straus's totally tubular tubs whenever they hit the shelves. In the meantime, though, I just discovered another local company, Saint Benoît, that uses glass and ceramic containers for its yogurt, so I'll probably branch out and give it a try. Cost-wise, it's only one penny more than Straus (as long as you return the containers).

Plastic: an albatross of disposable culture

al•ba•tross  2a: something that causes persistent deep concern or anxiety  b: something that greatly hinders accomplishment

Thanks to my friend Ben for pointing me to this video. As one of the narrators puts it, "Throwaway living may be profitable, but the consequences are intolerable.... Sadly, these birds are giving their lives to show us what we're doing to the oceans."

The shun has begun on BPA

At long last, the FDA is getting a clue on bisphenol-A (BPA).

After blowing three deadlines to revisit its stance on the endocrine-disrupting chemical, which is found in canned-food liners and many other products, the agency finally spoke on Friday, saying it had "some concern" over BPA's effects on fetuses and children. Setting aside the fact that it's also a concern for adults, this is a huge admission, given that the FDA had always contended that BPA was safe in the past (relying on industry-funded studies).

However.

In its report, the FDA also said it can't regulate the chemical because "current BPA food contact uses" were approved under regulations issued more than 40 years ago that give the agency very limited oversight in the matter.

My first reaction is, Well, jeez, why didn't you just say so in the first place? Here we've all been, waiting with bated breath for years for you to ixnay the stuff, and now you say your hands are tied? As Tom Laskawy puts it on Grist, "this report is a bureaucratic cry for help." What we clearly need, he goes on to say, is for Congress to pass the Senate's Feinstein-Schumer bill (also known as the Ban Poisonous Additives Act).

I agree, and I would end this post right there, but first I want to share something I came across (via Safer Cans) that gives me more hope about the FDA's statement.

This story on Our Stolen Future explains why the phrase "some concern" represents positive repercussions "for all of FDA toxicology, not just BPA." Remember those outdated rules from 40 years ago that the FDA says ties its hands? Apparently government research guidelines are also outdated.

I recommend reading the piece to learn why GLP (good laboratory practices), standardized assays, and large sample sizes aren't necessarily as good as they sound, but the positive take-away is that, according to the authors, the FDA will now consider "all relevant data"—not just studies that, for example, are more like "using binoculars instead of the Hubble Space Telescope to study distant galaxies."

Onward and upward!

Take action: Urge your lawmakers to get on board with the Ban Poisonous Additives Act by signing this petition.

Amuse-bouche: 'Slow Death by Rubber Duck' reading tomorrow

In these days of greater awareness about chemical safety—and in the wake of the FDA's new concern about bisphenol-A (BPA)—here's an appropriate event that readers in the Washington, D.C., area might want to attend. The authors of the new book Slow Death by Rubber Duck are reading from 6:30 to 8 p.m. tomorrow at Busboys and Poets.

I haven't read Slow Death, but it looks interesting. And if I could teleport myself to the East Coast tomorrow, I would ask the authors about their choice of title and symbolic icon. You see, I intentionally bought Mini-Mouth a natural-rubber duck bath toy instead of the far more common plastic ones, because I didn't want to expose her to phthalates.

I know some people have serious allergies to rubber (latex), but Slow Death seems mostly focused on the tens of thousands of untested synthetic chemicals that people come into contact with via countless everyday products—chemicals that may well be carcinogens, mutagens, or reproductive toxins.

The answer is probably that the duck is simply more photogenic.

Nudge nudge, think think

On the heels of my New Year's resolution, I'm still pondering the big picture. You could argue, however, that my 2010 pledge represents nothing but small-picture myopia.

And if you're Alex Steffen, you probably would make that argument. Lately I've been reading a bunch of Steffen's old Worldchanging posts criticizing "light-green" environmentalism—the notion that by taking small steps like shopping with reusable bags and buying organic cotton sheets, we can somehow get ourselves out of the huge mess our planet is in—and the experience is not unlike taking a cold shower: extremely unpleasant at first, but ultimately invigorating.

"In the developed world," Steffen writes in this post from 2006, "even those of us who have committed ourselves to change, consume more resources and energy than our sustainable share.... Most of the harm we cause in the world is done far from our sight, created through ... vast systems whose workings are often intentionally hidden from us, and over which we have very little influence as single individuals."

Ouch, that smarts, doesn't it? If you, like me, are indeed committed to change, it's not fun to be told that your green actions don't amount to a hill of beans. (Especially if you, um, happen to write a blog about how individuals can make a difference through strategic consumption.) But there's no denying the truth in those statements, and it's good to have a reality check.

I know that in my daily life, I spend a fair amount of time looking inward at my own habits and those of my family. So do other people I admire, like Colin Beavan (a.k.a. No Impact Man) and Beth Terry of Fake Plastic Fish. It would no doubt behoove me to put more focus on bright-green efforts I can engage with.

But I don't agree with Steffen when he writes that "Consumer-based approaches and 'simple things' lists tend to reinforce our sense that the only sphere in which we can act is our own little private lives, and that isolates us."

Au contraire. For me, anyway (and undoubtedly for Beavan and Terry, too), making an effort to live more consciously is all about forging connections. Because I'm interested in sustainability, I naturally meet other people who are too. They turn me on to efforts, issues, and resources that I find fascinating and therefore pass on to yet more people. It's an ever expanding process, and one that the internet and digital tools make more and more expansive.

Furthermore, while it's true that you cannot buy a better future, by supporting companies that are doing things right, we help put out of business companies that are doing things wrong.

"You quite literally cannot shop your way to a one-planet footprint," Steffen writes. "The best you can do is nudge the market in that direction." 

I say, let's keep nudging—and let's not stop thinking.

New Year's evolution

I'm always amazed at how quickly November and December blow by. Life's been so crazy that I never even managed to write a holiday-consumerism-themed post.

But I have managed to think of a New Year's resolution (a two-pronged one, even!), and I'm just going to throw it up here, all quick-and-dirty-like: From now on, I will no longer buy paper towels or paper napkins. The paper industry is supposedly the third-largest contributor to global warming, and I've been rather enjoying using rags, dish towels, and Skoy cloths to clean up messes. Also, Mr. Wallet Mouth and I have some pretty cool cloth napkins (see above) that make us feel classy when we use them.

Part 2 of my resolution is to buy and consume fewer things packaged in plastic. Ever since learning that "plastic recycling" is a misnomer (plastics are actually downcycled into unrecyclable objects) and that the entire enterprise is not very green, I've been more aware of my relationship to the stuff. I even remembered to bring my stainless-steel water bottle on my holiday plane flights (hmm, speaking of global warming...) so I could say no to the plastic cup. I'm lucky to live near a grocery store that offers a wide range of bulk goods, but for some reason I haven't been in the habit of buying non-food items—things like lotion and laundry detergent—in bulk there, so this year I'm going to try to change that.

Happy 2010, everyone!