By Russell Klein
What is going on with your plastic, America?
Are you someone relying on those little numbers in a recycling symbol? Whether your relationship involves curbside collection, 10-cent refunds, grocery bag fees or foam container bans, as a consumer you’re probably winging it when it comes to managing the largest parts of your plastic habit. Be it resolved right here and today, if you’re not a recycling professional what you know about plastics recovery is wrong.
Do any of the following statements sound familiar? “My building only recycles 1s and 2s!” “Doesn’t that bag have a triangle on it? Put it in the recycling bin!” “Oh! If that bottle has a 7, you need to put it with the compostables!”
If you have uttered any of these things, in fact if you’ve even thought about it, you need to stop. Why? If you will bear with me for the next two minutes, I’d like to guide you to become a better-informed steward for the environment. How? Why? For the past 25 years, our modest national efforts to do-the-right-thing by recycling plastic products have suffered from widespread misunderstanding and even marketing disinformation. Don’t want to be part of the problem? Consider this an intervention.
To start off, this is not an indication of recyclability. Nor are any of these:
In fact, just to be clear, these emblems are not indicative of:
As a result of these pressures, in 1988 the Society of the Plastics Industry (an American trade association) introduced the Resin Identification Codes (RICs), pictured below. This was a once-in-a-generation, sector-wide initiative, intended to address the concerns of environmentalists, industrialists and state governments seeking a way to tame and organize the matter of plastics recovery. Placed on the bottom of plastic bottles, markings depicting numbers inside a triangle of chasing arrows identified the six most commonly used plastics (also known as resins), with a seventh class as a catchall for everything else.
At the time of their launch, these marks were solely intended to help waste sorters identify the plastics used in bottles. The markings were placed on the bottom of the bottles so they would not affect consumer purchasing decisions. Indeed, they were never meant to be used by the general public at all! Bottles were the original target of the Resin Identification Codes as they were the most readily collected, sorted and remarketed plastic scrap available. Nonetheless, it was only a year after the RICs' introduction that manufacturers of other forms, so-called “rigid plastics” (e.g. buckets, baskets, wide-mouthed jars), were invited to participate in this marking system as well.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the system to outgrow its cradle. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, states all over the country rushed to adopt language to drive public recycling in the wake of a famous national garbage scandal (Homework: look up The Mobro 4000). As a result, community messaging and commercial product marketing aimed at the general public began to reference the RICs to define plastic recycling opportunities and to guide consumer behaviors. Unfortunately, this simultaneously created two major, national misperceptions: Forever after the public would a) look for the chasing arrows for reassurance of end-of-life product options, and b) rely upon RIC numbers as the end-all be-all arbiter of which plastic container should go where. Thus, even communities who in the early days may have known enough to ask exclusively for bottles marked with 1s or 2s nonetheless eventually found their recycling containers filled with all kinds of dissimilar — and ultimately useless – packaging forms.
Why is it useless? What is it that thwarts recyclability when plastics of a single number are lumped together? There are two things; the first is chemistry. Think of it this way: Every major product shape represents a different manufacturing process. A bottle, a laundry basket and a trash bin may all contain the ingredient high-density polyethylene (HDPE, or No. 2), nonetheless, their chemical recipes are as different as their forms because each was manufactured for a different purpose, in a different manner, by a different machine. The recipe that works for a machine that air-inflates bottles all day is not the same as that which is required for a machine injecting plastics into molded cups. Nonetheless, because each manufacturer began with high-density polyethylene, both objects are marked on the bottom with the No. 2 triangle. However, melt these products together for recycling purposes and you get … a smelly, chunky mess that's useless to either manufacturer.
So, now the resin codes (RICs) are applied across products of all shapes and chemical variations, occasionally for the misguided, commercial advantage of ‘green credentials.’ So how does one know when a number in a recycling triangle is a legitimate indication of something? The answer is: By and large, you don’t. Assuming a single recycling program would attempt to recover only all No. 1s, or only all No. 2s, thereby including bottles, cups, buckets, wall trim, action figures, etc., as we said before, manufacturers downstream would quickly find that melting such products together produces only a colorful, chunky, contaminated mess. To reiterate: Within the RICs, there are too many chemical variants distributed among too few categories.
At this point, as a concerned consumer, you’re beginning to recognize two major problems: a meaningless number and a misleading recycling sign. If you’re still determined to use these marks to understand what is recyclable in your home or office collection, ask yourself a question: How could a bottling company 400 miles away possibly know what’s acceptable in this particular neighborhood or office building? Alternatively, was the product imported from manufacturers abroad? In that case, a meaningful indication of recyclability is even less likely.
The bottom line is: this numbered system so beloved – or hated – by consumers everywhere wasn’t meant for you, the consumer, and fell apart early on. It’s time to let it go in favor of something better. And to those of you who continually argue with your spouse – or your local recycling office – over the recyclability of a strawberry container “because it has a number one!” … Cut it out. Let it go. It’s over.
To keep the dialogue going, if you can find your municipality’s list of required recyclables online, please paste it below in the comments section or share the link.
Image credit: Shutterstock.com
Before his recent move to private industry, Russell Klein was the District of Columbia's only municipal recycling educator for over a decade. During this tenure, he made hundreds of presentations before the public regarding waste reduction, municipal regulatory compliance and stakeholder engagement. Russell was also responsible for directing (and co-founding) the Material Resource Sustainability Internship (MRSI). This initiative leveraged dozens of public-private partnerships to aggressively prepare college students for environmental stewardship roles as well as future career opportunities. Follow Russell on Twitter @WasteWhys