National Bottle Bill

According to studies conducted by the Container Recycling Institute, the recycling rate of beverage containers has fallen nearly 20% since 1990, from 60.9% to a dismal 41.5% in 2006. With industries and municipalities generating ever-increasing amounts of solid waste—and area landfills reaching capacity at alarming rates—the need to improve the reclamation rate of recyclable materials in Chicago (and throughout the nation) has reached critical mass. In fact, the Illinois EPA predicts that all of the landfills in the Chicago Metropolitan Area will be filled (and subsequently closed) within the next five to eight years.

Beverage containers make up nearly 80% of all containers sold in the United States, but traditional curbside recycling methods do not capture a satisfactory percentage of these containers. Perhaps this because more than one-third of these beverages are consumed away from home and emptied within minutes, which makes the containers particularly wasteful. In fact, 45-60% of litter in this country is comprised of used beverage containers.

Although the EPA reports that used soda containers (plastic and aluminum) make up only 2.7% of the Municipal Solid Waste stream, this is largely due to their small size and lightweight composition. More than half of the 200 billion beverage containers sold in the U.S. in 2006 wound up in landfills—58 billion of those containers were aluminum cans, one of the most easily recycled materials known to man.

Experts agree that the reycling industry would benefit from a multi-faceted approach, as no easy answer to this problem currently exists. First, recycling has to be convenient for consumers, which is why the Blue Cart Initiative (introduced in 2007, the program will be citywide by 2011) uses the single-stream recycling method. This means that recyclables are not separated until they arrive at the processing center. This method requires less effort by residents and takes up less space in the home, and it also reduces collection costs because crews are able to work faster when they don’t have to sort the recyclables going into the truck. The thought is that residents will be more willing to participate in a recycling program that requires minimal effort.

The second approach to the recycling dilemma is to provide consumers with an added incentive to recycle. One of the most successful incentive programs in existence is the bottle bill, which charges consumers five cents (ten cents in Michigan) per beverage container sold. The perceived added value of returning cans makes these programs more appealing than traditional buy-back programs, which fetch only one or two cents per can. The deposit is then refunded when containers are returned to the retailer. This program was first established in Oregon in 1971, and to date, eleven states have adopted similar programs (although only ten take back aluminum containers, which are exempted from the bottle bill program in Connecticut). Illinois, however, is noticeably absent from this list.

States with bottle bill programs report sharp increases in the recycling of beverage containers, averaging 75-80%. Michigan, with it’s hefty ten-cent deposit, boasts the greatest return rate of nearly 95%, while California, which offers only a three-to-five-cent refund, still has a 58% recycling rate, much higher than the national average. Litter from beverage containers was reduced by 70-83% in these states, with an overall litter reduction of 30-47%.

The money generated from unclaimed deposits (15-30%, as some of these cans are recycled through the municipal recycling program instead, and some are, sadly, thrown away) generally goes back to the state to fund environmental incentives, although some states give a portion to distributors and retailers to offset the costs of the take-back and pick-up. This translates into millions of dollars in most states—wouldn’t this be more effective than the exorbitant taxes imposed by Cook County and the City of Chicago? The current tax on canned beverages is 13.25%, and a liquor tax is added to alcoholic beverages on top of the initial tax. Many Cook County residents get around this by crossing county lines to purchase these items, (which makes the intended use of the tax as revenue generator less effective), and those who don’t never see a penny of that money back.

Last year, Massachusetts Congressman Edward J. Markey introduced the Bottle Recycling Climate Protection Act, a nation-wide bottle bill that would encourage large-scale recycling of glass, plastic, and aluminum beverage containers. Not only would the bill bring this program—its effectiveness already proven by 22% of the country—to the entire nation, it would also improve existing bottle bills, many of which have not yet been updated to include plastic bottles. As Representative Markey explains, “Congress can send the nation a global warming message in a bottle. We can still quench our thirst while reducing our thirst for energy. And we can have carbon dioxide in our fizzy drinks, while cutting down on heat-trapping carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.”

Some leading environmental and recycling organizations, such as the National Resources Defense Council and the Container Recycling Institute, have already backed the National Bottle Bill, and it seems like the majority of the public would be in favor of the bill as well. According to the Bottle Bill Resource Guide, 70-75% of Americans support a nationwide bill, while 70-85% of residents in states where bottle bills already exist would be in favor of expanding the program to include plastic soda and juice containers. These solutions, combined with the third approach—education and outreach—should help Americans recover many more aluminum cans from the waste stream in years to come.

Alternative Gift Registry

Although I have spent a great deal of money on shower gifts and wedding presents for friends and relatives who have gotten married over the years (and am starting the process all over again now that they're starting to have kids), the coolest gift I ever gave was one that the bride and groom couldn't register for. Instead of fine China, my friend was determined to collect place settings and serving bowls of a pattern her grandma used to have-- one that hasn't been manufactured since the 1950s. So my roommate and I scoured antique malls and thrift stores and managed to put together a tea set, replete with a tea pot, sugar and creamer, and four cups and saucers. She was so excited to receive the set, and we had so much fun finding all the different pieces; best of all, our dollars went much further than they would have in a department store.

I've kept that great idea of hers in the back of my mind-- if and when I ever get married, I would love to find a new use for old products, or at least give my friends and family a choice of where they purchase gifts. I can't imagine that I'll need to ask for nearly as much as a young couple who gets married right out of college would, for I've scraped together enough to fill my kitchen and apartment. I don't have a need for everything to be shiny and new-- some of my most prized posessions and one-of-a-kind pieces of furniture once belonged to someone else. In fact, I might not need to register for much stuff at all-- I'd love to be able to "register" for more abstract things, such as having someone feed my cats while we're on our honeymoon, make a donation to a favorite charity in our name, or offer up their musical talents during the ceremony in lieu of money or gifts.

I learned this spring that, thanks to the (non-profit) Center for the New American Dream, such a registry now exists. Known as the Alternative Gift Registry, engaged couples and expectant parents can now create such a list, free of charge. The sample registries include great ideas such as asking for recipes or volunteer babysitters. For material items, the registry makers may suggest a store or Web site where the item is sold, although gift givers may purchase it anywhere. When an item is purchased, found, or donated, the gift giver enters the information into their computer, and the registry is updated.

The site also includes environmental tips, statistics, and checklists for having a "green" wedding! It's such a neat, yet simple idea-- the bride and groom (or new parents) can customize the registry to include items from several different stores, and to ask for non-material gifts that are more meaningful to them than crystal goblets or toaster ovens, and it gives friends and family the opprotunity to donate their time, knowledge, or services without putting a strain on their wallet. I mean-- for me anyway-- when given a choice between receiving napkin rings and DVDs or having a group of friends spend the weekend helping us renovate our first home, the choice seems clear-- I'd much rather have the help and the memories than the meaningless stuff!

A Good Deed Gone Bad

In a rare moment of financial stability, I made a $20 donation to an environmental non-profit organization last summer. Before I became a contributing member of this group, I distinctly remember reading the fine print on the donation slip about how they would NEVER sell my name to third parties, etc. I even got a free tote bag for my generosity. So I was saving the planet and saving plastic bags from the landfills-- what could be wrong with that?

Plenty, apparently, because the group I joined didn't sell my information-- they gave it away.

Shortly after my free gift arrived, I began receiving unsolicited mail from other environmental organizations. Wouldn't I join their efforts as well, to save the polar bears, to curb deforestation, to keep our wild places wild? I could become a member for just $25, just $16, just $9 a year, and would receive a free ruck sack, plush toy, or umbrella in return for my donation.

Before I know it, this deluge of charitable donation requests has expanded to include animal rights groups, scientific research labs, and even childrens' charities. Then I start receiving duplicate mailings from persistent organizations that had asked for (but did not receive) my help in the past. Next, the group I joined starts reminding me that they've been able to count on me for $20 in the past-- won't I give an additional $30 now to stop drilling in the artic before it's too late?

Some groups are so confident that I will contribute to their worthy cause that they send the free gifts up front-- I am the proud owner of three monogrammed pads of paper, five window decals, a handful of cards, three calendars, and more mailing labels than I can hope to use in a lifetime. I also get pre-printed petitions, addressed to my senators and congressmen, expressing my presumed outrage over some bill that has not been passed, or some policy that has not been enforced. All I have to do is sign at the bottom, print my credit card number on the back, and send it in.

Past presidents, prolific authors, and famous actors are writing to me almost daily about the plight of one underrepresented group or another, each plea more heartbreaking than the last. Wouldn't I like to save the blue-footed booby from extinction, give children with cleft lips a chance at a normal life, or feed and vaccinate scores of homeless animals? Of course I would, but I'm not willing to put myself in the poor house to do so.

Now, instead of feeling good about supporting a worthy cause, I feel like crap, because I can't afford to donate to every organization I feel passionately about. And because of my financial ineptitude, I will not be able to right all the wrongs in this world. One of my favorite sayings is "...to give freely of your time, your effort, and your means." I don't have any means, but I feel that I more than make up for it in the other areas, and c'mon-- two out of three's not bad, right?

Most annoying of all is the amount of paper wasted by these futile mailings. The gut-wrenching letters are sometimes three or four pages long, then there's a postage-paid envelope, a donation slip, glossy pictures of the free gifts I could receive, and more.

Some of the letters proudly state that they were printed on recycled paper using soy-based inks-- but since I never wanted these mailings in the first place, who cares!?! It's still junk mail that clogs up the postal system, that I have to take the time to shred and/or recycle, and it's cluttering up my life. I had signed up for all sorts of opt-out services a few years back, services that I will now have to find and sign up for all over again.

In the meantime, however, my course of action is to NOT renew my membership with this group, thus letting the polar bears drown and the grey wolves be hunted to extinction-- and hope they eventually forget my name and lose my number-- at least until I can afford to make a donation to another group-- one that won't exploit my good intentions.

Dryer Balls

I don't intend to post many product reviews on this blog, mainly because I can't afford to test all the new products on the market boasting "green" and "environmental" qualities, but also because writing about such inane things bores me to no end. For the most part, I'll leave the testing and polls and feedback charts to the folks at Consumer Reports, but tonight, I want to tell you why I have decided that the Dryer Balls I purchased last winter were a good buy.

I hate dryer sheets. I hate the way they smell, I hate the way they leave a thin film of chemical residue on my clothes, and I especially hate how quickly I go through a box of those little papers, disposing of multiple sheets each week.

I got my first set of Dryer Balls for Christmas, and gave them a test run for about a month, using them only when I dried linen loads. I noticed a little more static with some fabrics than I did with others, but the overall difference was not that noticeable. What impressed me more was the marked improvement in the fluffiness of my towels-- my linen closet looks much fuller than it did at this time last year. Granted, some of the towels are new, but even the old ones look more inviting than they have in ages.

Satisfied that they worked well enough for my liking, I bought another set a couple months later and made a complete switch. My fingers no longer feel weirdly sticky when I finish folding my laundry, and my clothes smell clean-- not like a "spring rain", a "tropical breeze", or even like "fresh linens"-- just a good, pure clean. Not quite as good as if I had hung them on a clothes line, but pretty close!

While dryer sheets may seem like a relatively insignificant addition to our overall waste output, eliminating even this wisp of a chemically laden solid helps with waste minimization efforts. Good for up to 1,000 uses, these Dryer Balls will last me 10-15 years will keep me from buying 20-30 boxes of disposable dryer sheets. I'll save money in the long run, so I approve!

Abt Electronics-- Pleasing the Planet...Since 2006

Earlier this spring, I spent a blustery Saturday morning searching the Internet for a place to recycle the small pile of broken electronics and appliances that had been accumulating in my dining room all winter. I had a toaster, a cell phone, two cameras, a tuner, and a handful of batteries that didn't qualify for Walgreen's recycling program. Nothing big, but nothing I wanted to trash, either. I found places that recycled computer parts, and others that accepted obsolete (but still functional) electronics, and even a site that charged exorbitant amounts of money for me to pack my e-waste in their special box and ship it to some recycling company in another state.

Frustrated, I was about to give up when I stumbled across this small, inconspicuous link on the Abt Electronics web site. Their flagship store in Glenview has a stand-alone recycling center, located on the southwest side of their lot, slightly behind their main building. Not only would they accept all the odds and ends in my bag of miscellaneous electronics, all but a select few appliances (such as TVs, computers, air conditioners, and refrigerators) are recycled free of charge. They are also one of 75 drop off centers for Sony-- meaning that all Sony products may be dropped off for "e-cycling" at no cost to the consumer.

According to their web site (and some related links), they also accept cell phones, cardboard, and styrofoam-- STYROFOAM!-- and recycle "...five tractor-trailor loads of appliances each day". Much of this volume includes the old appliances they haul away when new ones are delivered, but word is spreading and the public is catching on fast. They also recycle much of the packaging the new appliances arrive in, as well as the wooden pallets on which they are delivered. The company has implemented an impressive number of other green initiatives, but I'll try and limit my focus here, so I don't get all giggly about solar panels and green fleets. You can read a number of articles on their environmental prowess, linked from their site, provided you can find it!

The recycling center opened in 2006, and-- according to the guy who helped me recycle my sad old TV, a styrofoam cooler, and a friend's broken printer last week-- "e-cycling" was made available to the public late last year. From 2:00-7:00, Thursday through Saturday, people can just drive up and drop off whatever they want to recycle. The only complaint I have with this program is that the information isn't posted more prominently on their home page, and that they don't really advertise these services. If it were me, I'd be shouting it from the roof tops!

While I try to avoid a trip to the North Shore as much as the next city dweller, I have yet to find a place in the city that accepts such a wide range of appliances. Some chain retailers of electronics and office supplies do accept a few of these items for recycling, but the fee they charge is pretty steep by comparison. So, in my mind, the remarkable environmental service that Abt Electronics provides to the Chicagoland area at little to no cost to the public makes it well worth the drive.

Old Linens get New Life

I feel like I've been taking a lot of pictures of trash cans lately (which I have), so I want to take things in a different direction today, because recycling glass, plastic, aluminum, and paper is only part of (what can be) a much broader solution. I like to think of the mantra "Reduce, Recycle, and Reuse" as the three R's of the twenty-first century, and any discussion of recycling would be incomplete without addressing this triumverate of waste-reduction techniques in its entirety.

I volunteer at a local animal shelter, and one of the ways I help out is by doing laundry. I wash, dry, and fold blankets, sheets, towels, throw rugs, and even placemats, which are used to line cages and provide soft places throughout the shelter where residents can sleep, hang out, and play. These linens are washed daily, which is a seemingly endless task, and an astounding number of them are needed to replace the soiled linens that are being washed and readied to use again the following day.

At home, I've recently replaced my threadbare towels, and now that I've upgraded to a queen-sized bed, my full-sized sheets are obsolete. Since the towels are no longer fit for human use, and my sister only needs so many sets of sheets for her guest bed, my first thought was to donate them, along with some bathmats and throw rugs given to me by my mother during her "you can never have too many bathmats" phase. This way, I won't feel guilty about giving crappy towels to Goodwill or anything, and I know they'll be put to good use for a bunch of deserving and grateful recipients.

Shelters always have a need for blankets and towels and the like, and they always welcome donations-- not all donations have to be monetary. In fact, many shelters have "wish lists" posted on their Web sites-- they can use more than just pet food, toys, and blankets! A perfect solution to the overstuffed linen closets of America, donors can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy about providing a touch of home for some warm fuzzies, still awaiting a home of their own.

A True Architectural Feat....

You know how, in my last post, I was saying how nice it would be to have compartmentalized trash/recycling receptacles in our parks? Well, it turns out that we do. The city installed eleven of these shiny new receptacles near "The Bean" in Millennium Park earlier this summer. These 40-gallon receptacles are the result of a design competition. Not just any design competition, mind you-- this contest pitted teams of young architects-- ARCHITECTS!-- against each other.

These brilliant structural engineers put their heads together, sketched blueprints, and toiled for more than three years to come up with the object you see here-- an elliptical catch-all with a trash bin on one side and a recycling bin on the other. The magnitude of this competition reminds me of a contest held back in the early 1890s before Chicago's Columbian Exposition. The object of this competition, however, was to design a structure that would rival the Eiffel Tower in Paris, which was unveiled at their World's Fair back in 1889. The winner of that competition was a bridge builder from Pennsylvania, George W. Ferris, who invented-- you guessed it-- the Ferris Wheel.

All sarcasm aside, these receptacles are pretty cool. They look sharp, incorporate some recycled and reclaimed metals in their design, and seem to work pretty well. The winning team of Deborah Kang and Amanda Smith calls their design the EcoTrio "Millennium" model. The original design had three compartments, but was later scaled back to two. I assume this was done to increase capacity and to reduce the risk of confusing the tourists.

The duo has several different models out, including receptacles for home and office use, with more models in the works. I am particularly excited about the "Restaurant" model (I cringe every time I think about the amount of recyclables that enter the waste stream at food joints every day, simply because these restaurants don't have the time/space to source separate). The different-shaped slots on the recycling sections are not new, but as the designers explain:

"The receptacle has a circular opening for containers and a rectangular slot for papers. These openings invite users to recycle. The waste section of the container has a lid that is opened by an attractive elliptical foot pedal. The extra second it takes for users to access the waste section of the container will give them a chance to think if the material they are throwing out could be recycled instead."

The "Pricing available upon request" part leads me to believe that these snazzy bins cost a pretty penny, but I still would like to someday see more of these receptacles (or something similar) throughout our great city. The idea is so deceptively simple, it's brilliant. And c'mon-- if the tourists can figure it out, we all can.