Being Green Isn't Always What It Seems
Products that claim to be environmentally friendly don't necessarily create a cleaner planet
It isn't easy being green.
Everything from computer terminals to woodworking glue to tampons with cardboard applicators is being sold these days with claims that it is "environmentally friendly." But what consumers widely believe is good for the environment--and what companies have been offering them in an attempt to cater to growing ecological awareness--doesn't always help.
Economists studying the ripple effects of product manufacturing are finding that common sense is a poor guide to what actually benefits or hurts the environment. In a surprising number of cases, "green" choices like paper bags and recycling actually use more energy and generate more pollution than the alternatives. "If people go off on gut instinct on something as complicated as the environment," concludes Lester Lave, director of the Green Design Initiative at Carnegie Mellon University, "they are as likely to do harm as good."
Take the choice of plastics versus paper. Plastics are often cast as environmental enemy No. 1. Environmental Action warns that buying plastic products adds to "the growing problems of toxic pollution," and countless checklists for responsible shopping put out by environmental groups urge consumers to ask for paper cups at fast-food restaurants and to pick cardboard packaging over plastics in the supermarket.
Energy. Yet when Lave and his coworkers traced the effects of paper manufacturing through the entire economy--an analysis that in effect captured everything from the fuel burned in chain saws as trees are cut to the air pollution generated by factories making tires for the trucks that deliver paper products to the supermarket--they found that a plastic cup takes half as much energy to make and results in 35 percent fewer pounds of toxic chemicals released into the environment than a paper cup does. Partly that's because a plastic cup uses a lot less plastic than a paper cup uses paper; plastic products typically weigh one sixth as much as paper products that do the same job. But it's also because pulp and paperboard mills, though much cleaner than in the past, still generate substantial toxic emissions.
To halt outright deception, the Federal Trade Commission has set guidelines for claims about a product's recyclability and degradability. But the real problem goes deeper: Just because something is recyclable does not mean it will be recycled, or even that it's a good idea to recycle it. A crash in markets for recycled materials and spiraling expenses have recently led a number of cities and states to cut back their recycling programs. Recycled newspaper, which sold for as much as $200 a ton a year ago, is now at $15; plastics have gone from 32 cents to 15 cents a pound. Costs of collecting and sorting recyclables average between $150 and $175 a ton, far more than the value of any recovered materials except aluminum.
Costs. Recycling advocates often argue that the extra cost is worth it because of the environmental good that results--reducing the consumption of nonrenewable resources and preventing pollution from landfills. But often such additional costs reflect the expenditure of additional energy, which depletes resources and generates pollution.
The complexity of the problem has posed a quandary for companies that want to help the environment. What is green in the public eye may not be as green as it seems; what is actually greenest may prove a hard sell. The trade-offs can seem almost endless. Plastic bumpers in cars are less recyclable than steel; but they are substantially lighter and improve gas mileage, reducing energy consumption and pollution. Making aluminum components is an energy-intensive and environmentally messy business; but scrap aluminum is valuable, encouraging recycling of the product at the end of its life. A few years ago, the owner of a junk car had to pay to have it towed away; now scrap dealers pay $25 to $50 a car for the aluminum, brass and zinc in them.
The Carnegie Mellon researchers argue that the real emphasis in recycling should be on designing products in the first place so that their high-value components can be easily recovered. And meanwhile, consumers ought to be more skeptical about paying extra for products that make green claims.
This story appears in the August 26, 1996 print edition of U.S. News & World Report.