I Spy... With My Little Eye...

... the contents of the blue recycling carts being tossed into the same truck as the garbage! For shame, Streets and San guys! Yes, I am aware that there was a blizzard last week. Yes, I know that many of you had to work overtime to salt and plow all the streets in this city. And I'll even admit that, since the city doesn't plow the alleys, it's a crap shoot as to whether the garbage trucks can even get down the alley ways at all.

But this is Chicago. The city that works. So man up, boys; if you can collect garbage, you can collect recyclables. Our recycling rate in this city is shameful enough as it is; let's not use a couple feet of snow as an excuse to make things even worse.

Polystyrene Ban Proposed

Ed Burke, 14th Ward Alderman and Chairman of the Finance Committee, proposed a city-wide ban on polystyrene products-- better known as Styrofoam-- used in the food industry. Though this proposal-- spurred by the realization that Chicago Public Schools are throwing away 35 million polystyrene lunch trays each year; that's more than 250,000 trays a day!-- is a good idea in theory, every time a political figure tries to ban something in this city, people get all up in arms. And Alderman Burke has proposed to ban a lot of stuff: plastic bags, BPA, trans fats, and smoking inside public places. While I agree these would all be in the best interests of the city, the smoking ban was the only proposal to gain any traction. However, he's also had some proposals that were pretty "out there", such as banning carriage horses from pooping on the street (has anyone ever seen a horse in a diaper? Didn't think so) and limiting dogs to 10 minutes of barking within a certain time frame, which is ridiculous on a number of levels.

If passed, this proposal-- like all proposed bans-- would come with fines that would theoretically generate much-needed revenue for the city. However, it should be pretty clear by now that this simply doesn't work; nobody pays attention to these arbitrary new mandates, and few people are fined because these proposals are so hard to enforce. Didn't the city learn anything from the foie gras debacle that made Chicago the laughing stock of the culinary world? Restaurant chefs took pride in breaking that law, which was eventually rescinded. I personally disagree with foie gras from an ethical standpoint, so I don't eat it. Not everyone shares my concern, but banning the end product didn't solve anything, especially not for the force-fed geese.

No Foam Chicago, a grass-roots organization, is backing Alderman Burke's ban, but with the very thing his proposal is lacking: facts. Among the group's top ten reasons to ban Styrofoam, they cite the chemical styrene as a known environmental hazard to human health and reproductive systems. When heated (in the microwave, or by the addition of a hot food or beverage to the container), the chemical leaches into the food and is unintentionally ingested. Also, polystyrene recycling, while possible, is quite costly and largely impractical, so the bulk of these containers wind up clogging our landfills, where they take centuries to break down.

A number of eco-friendly, biodegradable alternatives to Styrofoam packaging in recent years that are more readily available and less cost prohibitive than they were in the past. Giant corporations like McDonald's have phased out their use of polystyrene products (remember when those fried, low-grade burgers used to come in watered-down, pastel-colored clam shells?) without losing profits, and the people who consume these sandwiches are *slightly* healthier because of it.

If Alderman Burke wants to make a change to the polystyrene problem in our public schools, he might be better off playing his "won't somebody think of the children!" card, and working with CPS to find a better solution. Heck-- have the high school science teachers address the problem in their lesson plans, and let the students figure out a better way. Help them help themselves! Do I think Chicago restaurants should get away from using polystyrene packaging? Yes. Is banning Styrofoam and riling up our vibrant restaurant industry the answer? No. I believe the good people of Chicago will respond better to helpful incentives than they will to heavy-handed influence; I'm no Alderman, but I think it's worth a try!

Giant Piles of Garbage

I hate to break it to you all, but waste management in this country is just that-- the management of waste. It's been likened to a shell game; we move piles of garbage from one place to another. Every year, the garbage trucks have to drive a little farther out to find a place to pile up all the trash we generate; in fact, the EPA estimates that all the landfills in the Chicago area will be full within the next 5-7 years. Cities like New York are already facing the space crunch; they sent out a "garbage barge" a few years back, with the intent of making their garbage someone else's problem. The barge circumnavigated the globe, and since no one was willing to take New York's trash, it wound up right back in New York.

According to the 2006 EPA report on the subject, of the 251 million tons of waste we generate each year (that's roughly 4 1/2 pounds of garbage per person per day), a full 55% of that was discarded. Only 32.5% was recovered (recycled), and a mere 12.5% was burned and the byproducts of combustion recovered as energy. We used to burn a lot of our garbage, but the gases and fumes that resulted were not properly filtered or recaptured, and the air pollution levels forced us to find another way. Many of the old incinerators in this city are now used as sorting facilities for our single-stream recycling program; city workers separate the materials that have been designated for recycling.

Our current method of waste management is to dump garbage into what they call "sanitary landfills". It sounds like an oxymoron, but basically all it means is that, once the landfill is full, it is covered with dirt. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Not necessarily. Old sanitary landfills are everywhere-- even if they no longer look or smell like landfills, it's hard for me not to call them what they are-- giant piles of garbage.

For example: those "mountains" along the Bishop Ford freeway into Indiana? They're not hills-- this is Illinois!-- they're covered mounds of trash. Ditto for the hilly landscape around Calumet City. The Brickyard Mall was built over a filled-in garbage pit, a large clay pit that was originally used in the making of bricks, hence the name. While that sounds like a good use for a former landfill site, the mall had to be closed down a few years back and was ultimately rebuilt, because the trash upon which the foundation was laid settled and compromised the structural integrity of the building. I'm not sure, but I suspect that the massive hill in the park across the street from me-- the one cross country runners dread-- was also created from garbage. And the popular sledding hill in the ritzy community of Evanston? The locals who remember call it "Mount Trashmore"-- it is aptly named.

We've become an undeniably "throwaway" society, but how do we reverse the waste and recovery percentages and slow the formation of these giant piles of garbage? There's not a single answer to that question; it will require a multi-faceted approach and the full cooperation of the American people to turn those numbers around. It will undoubtedly take time, but the effort is becoming increasingly necessary. Can you imagine what future civilizations will think of us when they excavate mound after mound of trash? I shudder at the thought.

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.

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.

Covered trash, recycling bins now in area parks

Earlier this summer, I noticed that the black wire trash bins in the park near my house had been replaced with large plastic carts, much like the ones that line the alleys in Chicago's residential neighborhoods. The carts are color-coded-- trash carts are green, and the recycling carts are blue. The lids help to prevent trash from blowing out, and the recycling option is a great and much-needed addition to our parks.

Unfortunately, the program doesn't seem to be as successful as one would hope-- there are only a handful of blue carts in the park by my house, and many of them are either empty or filled with regular trash. Another park down the street from me seems to be faring much better-- almost every green trash cart is paired with a recycling cart and people in that neighborhood seem to be making more of an effort to separate what they throw away.

How can we improve participation in the Chicago Park District's recycling efforts? Through awareness, education, and publicity, of course, but I really think that, for public recycling programs to be most effective, we need to make recycling as easy as-- if not easier than-- just dumping everything in the trash.

I think restaurants such as Potbelly's and Schlotzsky's and retailers like Ikea have the right idea. Their trash cans and recycling bins are in one big receptacle. These restaurants make the openings for the recycling bins just large enough to accept bottles and cans and reduce the size of the garbage cans, and Ikea's receptacles are brightly color-coded and even post pictures of the items that go in each compartment (for those who still can't figure it out).

If all trash bins also had recycling compartments, I think it would be hard not to recycle. Maybe someday even the garbage trucks will be compartmentalized-- the recycling company in downstate Springfield, for example, has trucks like this (minus the garbage portion) so I think it could work. That way, the city won't have to continue to try and make us believe that our recyclables get sorted out of the trash once it's been collected and compacted and arrives at the waste management facility (sorry people, I'm still not buying it!) In the meantime, though, compartmentalized receptacles would certainly be a start!

"One man's trash..."

This report, which aired on NBC Nightly News earlier this summer, really caught my eye. It details the robust, booming business at one garbage-collection service turned sorting and shipping center of recyclables, which is based in Chicago Ridge. This company collects recycled plastics, metals, and paper products and ships them-- 700 tons worth each day, in fact-- to Asian markets such as China and India. These countries apparently have an insatiable desire to turn our discarded recyclables into new products and packaging. The on-air reporter went so far as to say that recycled materials are currently our largest export.

The report goes on to describe the pros and cons of exporting recyclables, like how it helps the environment by reducing deforestation, mining, and the processing of raw materials. It also costs less to make new products from existing scraps, and it's currently cheaper to send these scraps overseas (in the same ships that brought us craploads of imports) than it is to process them here. In an age where we're not making many products that other countries want to buy, it's nice to know that at least we have something on the trading table.

Among the downfalls are the fact that we don't yet have the ability to recycle all these products ourselves, which would create new jobs here at home in a growing and necessary industry. Some who commented on the story speculate that the recent increase in recalls of imported products are because of lax recycling standards overseas. Ergo, by sending them products to recycle, we're bringing this problem upon ourselves. I don't know what those standards are, and personally, I don't see the connection-- I thought most of the recalls were due to lead-based paint, not recycled plastics-- but I'm no expert, and anyways, that's not my focus here.

Whatever the glitches in this current system are, I am confident that they can and will be resolved, or at least improved upon, in the future. In the meantime, the main points that jumped out at me (and embedded themselves in my brain) are these:

• The economy sucks and we don't export many products anymore
• Somebody has found an export that is in very high demand
• The country's largest export facility of its kind is in our own backyard
• Developing countries are paying top dollar for this export and they can't seem to get enough of it
• While the export isn't appealing or glamorous, it is keeping tons upon tons of garbage out of area landfills

Chicagoans could very easily help to bring more-- a LOT more-- money into the local economy simply by recycling, which would help to supply the continual and overwhelming demand from overseas. I've seen studies that report a dismal 8% to 15% participation rate in Chicago's recycling programs. Even a modest doubling or tripling of that number would significantly increase the number of products available for export. So, Chicago... Save the economy! Save the planet!