The privilege of defining waste.
The first modern disposable cup was called the Dixie Cup1. It was introduced in 1908 in response to hygiene concerns of people sharing glass and metal cups at train station and school water fountains. A number of regions in the US started to ban their use and the paper disposable cup became a pioneering piece of bad endineering. It also started a blending in the needs of hygiene and disposability in consumer everyday life.
Once people enjoyed this new-found convenience, they looked for it everywhere. The introduction of new throwaway products such as paper towels, cups, straws, and the common use of commercial toilet paper sealed the trend. Companies like Kleenex emphasised to consumers how good it was to have convenience in throwing waste away. The volume of disposable products has grown ever since alongside the experience of the end being quicker, easier and less meaningful.
I was reminded of this history recently on a trip to the US with the family. At one point we stayed in a State that didn’t recycle anything. All household waste went in the same bin. It was interesting to observe our kids reaction. Who had grown up in the UK and Sweden where they have only ever experienced the decision needs of multiple recycling bins. Their new feeling of conflict was a shadow from the past. On one hand, they enjoyed a freeing of the burden of responsibility. At the same time overwhelming guilt in knowing its all going to landfill.
Privileged consumers
I was struck by this statement in Ilona Cheyne of Oxford Brookes University and Michael Purdue of University of Newcastle upon Tyne in their work around waste. “The essence of the legal definitions is that the owner does not want it; thus waste exists only where the product is not wanted.”2 It captures well the ease of disposability, but it also alludes to the privilege in throwing stuff away. Removing that burden of responsibility from todays individual, to a distant, or future groups of people. Who will no-doubt curse our ease and often reckless disposability.
Decision tree
Maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to blame the individual. After all they have been taught this behaviour over decades. As the consumer and provider relationship breaks apart at the end, so does the support and instruction the consumer receives from that relationship. This leaves defining waste to be done alone, uninstructed. Therefore leaving disposability wide open to interpretation. If we consider the decision tree along the consumer lifecycle we can see emotions and purpose change from desired object and functional product, to unwanted burden. Where the consumer is encouraged at earlier stages to think individually and selfishly. At later stages they are asked to think altruistically and regard ongoing value. Clearly conflicting behaviours.
Creating better endings can improve this situation. Bonding the consumer and provider relationship until the ultimate neutralisation of the product. For example setting up reverse logistics to take the product back to the producers dismantling facilities. Keeping a dialogue between the consumer and provider, to guide them through the best decision making path. Informing the consumer of consequence of landfill or recycling overseas and the damage it can do to people who process waste in countries without protection.
There are lots of opportunities to improve the consumer off-boarding experience.
