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Introduction
There are people on this planet—in different countries and cities and towns—whose discarded trash for a year fits tidily in one glass Mason jar. These environmental heroes have mastered the art of living as close to zero waste as possible.
I am not one of those people.
True zero waste, of course, is when everything humans produce or use either gets consumed in its entirety (like, say, a sandwich), reused (the ceramic plate the sandwich is on), recycled (the plastic bag the bread came in), or composted back into the land to fertilize the soil (the core from the lettuce leaf on the sandwich). Nothing gets incinerated or sent to a landfill or ends up in the ocean or air to pollute the environment.
In this way, we leave no indelible mark (or, honestly, scar) on our planet. No landfills teeming with discarded armchairs, dirty diapers, and food scraps buried so deep that they can’t decompose naturally and instead do so without air, creating methane that contributes to climate change. No industrial-size incinerators burning materials we no longer need and darkening our skies with smoke and chemicals. No plastics—from grocery bags to facial scrub microbeads—in our water supply, consumed by ocean life that we in turn eat for dinner.
It’s enough to make you want to slam the brakes on your current consumer lifestyle and grab that Mason jar, right? Except for most of us—once we start looking around our home, our workplace, and even our car—it’s incredibly easy to get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of waste being generated every minute of every day. While writing this paragraph, I used a tissue and threw it in the wastebasket, wrote a to-do list on a sticky note, took a sip from a plastic drinking cup, and considered making shrimp for dinner—shrimp that’s currently sitting in a sealed plastic bag in my freezer. I’m typing on a computer that will one day wear out, checking a phone that will become obsolete, and being shielded from the sun by lowered honeycomb window shades that will eventually break and need to be replaced.
But you know what? I have a rainwater collection system in my backyard, I buy secondhand furniture, and on countless occasions I’ve said to my little boy, “Why would we buy those packaged cookies/Halloween costumes/holiday decorations when we could make them ourselves?” In fact, many of the ideas in this book come straight from my own life.
To be honest, there’s no way I could ever take myself and my family from typical modern consumer household to zero-waste household in one giant lifestyle makeover. It’s a huge commitment in terms of time, budget, resources, and behavioral change, and it’s just not feasible at the moment. What is feasible, though, is incorporating more and more ways to reduce our household and personal waste, one lifestyle tweak at a time. Consider it (almost) zero waste.
You don’t have to adopt an all-or-nothing zero-waste lifestyle to live more sustainably and be more environmentally friendly. Every single step you take to reduce the waste you create—from car exhaust to plastic wrap—lessens your overall impact on your community and the planet. Actively striving toward zero waste is an accomplishment itself. The journey is the thing—it’s something to do in a world where, environmentally speaking, there’s a lot of bad news. Humans have driven greenhouse-gas emissions to unprecedented levels, which contributes to climate change. Globally, we dump 2.01 billion tons of waste in landfills1 each year. One quarter of the world’s population experiences extreme levels of water stress2—meaning they could be one short dry spell away from crisis. Here in the United States, water scarcity can happen for many different reasons, from not being able to pay one’s bills to local water supplies literally drying up.3
So if you’re feeling inspired to change your habits in order to reduce your consumption of natural resources, or to simply reduce the waste you produce, I’m here to tell you that you can easily do it. If shutting off the faucet while you brush your teeth can help save a little water now so that we have more later in case we really need it, do it. If using the broken shards of your grandmother’s serving platter to make a cool mosaic not only keeps them out of the landfill but also preserves a visual memory, do it. Every time one of us refuses a straw or a handful of plastic utensils, we’re reducing the amount of single-use plastics needing disposal in one way or another.
A Zero-Waste Cheat Sheet
Every little thing we do makes a difference, and in this book I’ve outlined more than one hundred changes you can make in your daily life that will reduce your environmental impact in terms of pollution, energy usage, food waste, and more. These actionable tips address unseen waste—the stuff we don’t “throw out,” like vehicle emissions, electrical energy, and water—as well as the tangible waste we do see, like worn-out running shoes and used kitty litter. Try one at a time, or start all of them tomorrow—the choice is yours. Only you know which options make sense for you.
In fact, I’m willing to bet that right this minute you could look around your home or your office and identify a handful of simple changes you could make. We know what we’re doing “wrong”; it’s a matter of identifying a way to do it “right” that fits with your individual lifestyle.
As you read the (almost) zero-waste strategies and ideas in this book, you’ll start to notice a pattern: each one fits neatly into one of the central behaviors of a zero-waste lifestyle. Darby Hoover, senior resource specialist for the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), sums it up succinctly: “Reduce, reuse, recycle.” That mandate isn’t new—it dates back to the 1970s. But it’s catchy and easy to remember, and it tells us all we need to know to start working toward zero waste.
Think about where you can reduce the materials or energy you use to get through your day. Bring your own travel mug to the coffee shop instead of accepting a plastic-lined paper to-go cup (they’re generally not recyclable, BTW).
Reuse materials wherever you can. Do you need to buy a black-tie outfit for that wedding, or can you rent one or borrow from a friend?
Recycle everything you possibly can to drive down the amount of waste that goes to the landfill, doomed to decompose anaerobically (without oxygen), releasing methane into our air and accelerating climate change even further.
The Myth of Throwing Things Away
We’re constantly throwing things away. The half-eaten office birthday cake? It gets thrown away at the end of the day. Candy wrappers and chip bags? They get thrown away. A pair of holey socks? Thrown away.
We don’t always think about what happens next, do we? We toss an item into the trash bin, and from there it goes to the garbage collectors, who bring it to the dump. The cake, the chip bags, and the socks are now out of our minds and our lives.
Except they’re not really out of our lives. Waste is overrunning our planet, says Hoover. “The idea that there is an ‘away’—our world isn’t big enough for that anymore,” she says. “There is no ‘away.’ ” And yet we continue to think there is. “Recycling has become the ‘good away,’ unlike the landfill, which is ‘bad away,’ ” she says. “But this can’t be our sole solution.” At a certain point, that landfill is going to be so large that it will literally be in our own backyard.
We need to reframe the idea of throwing things “away.” Consider the birthday cake: Could it have been offered to colleagues in another department shortly aft
er the birthday celebration was over? If the cake had been fully eaten, and the knife and plate used to serve it washed and put back in the staff kitchen, there would be nothing to throw away at all. Would that (clean) holey sock make a good mitt for dusting baseboards and other surfaces? Eliminating the chip bag might take a little more effort—slice and deep-fry your own potatoes, perhaps?—but at the very least, you can make sure to buy the family-size bag and eat a serving at a time, rather than laying in a supply of single-serving bags (which make for more waste per serving).
As you start to set aside your vegetable peels to add to a garden compost heap, reduce your reliance on single-use plastics like zip-top bags and flatware, and consider whether a damaged item could be fixed rather than tossed, you’ll find that you’re generating less waste in general—and relying less on both the “good away” (recycling) and the “bad away” (landfill). Zero waste? Maybe not yet. But almost.
Things You Can’t Unsee
Since writing this book, I can never look at my shampoo bottle the same way again.
Oh, I’ve been recycling the bright-pink plastic tube since recycling was a thing. And I felt pretty good about getting every last drop out before chucking it into the bin. I use cuticle scissors to cut it open at the end, swiping my finger around the half-tube to get another few days’ worth of product. (And then I give it a full rinse before recycling.) Not only that, I don’t even shampoo every day—more like every other. I’m so efficient in my consumption, I tell myself. I’m a conscious consumer!
Then I learned that only 14 percent of all the plastic ever produced has been recycled, and that even what seems like a small amount of contamination in a batch of recycling—say, peanut butter residue in a jar, or an unrinsed bottle of tomato juice—could get the entire batch rejected and sent to the landfill anyway. My efforts matter, but are they really having the impact I want?
So I’m faced with a choice: either keep doing what I’m doing, or try a different strategy. I could shop around for a larger-size bottle of my shampoo, on the principle that smaller packaging results in more waste overall for an equal amount of product. I could find a bulk beauty supply store near me that allows me to bring in my own reusable container and fill it with their shampoo. Or I could try bar shampoo and completely eliminate the need for plastic packaging or even a reusable bottle.
Once you open your eyes to the waste all around you, you’ll face a lot of choices like mine—and what you decide is ultimately up to you. You might think twice before tossing kale stems into the kitchen waste bin or throwing last summer’s worn-out flip-flops into the garbage can at the curb. There are tips in this book for all of those moments—different paths you can take, each leading you toward an (almost) zero-waste lifestyle. You might make your own trade-offs, and you’ll find certain tips easier to work into your life than others. But at every step, you’ll be more thoughtful about how you navigate through your life.
Don’t just rely on my permission, though. Darby Hoover of the NRDC offers her own take on things—and she’s been working in the field for more than thirty years. “The world isn’t going to end because you bought one bottle of water when you were thirsty,” she says. “Understand where you can do stuff, and forgive yourself for everything else. Don’t beat yourself up so much that you put your head in the sand.” Doing even one thing is always better than doing nothing.
A Modern-Day Rock-Paper-Scissors
When you set out to make changes in your daily life, you might find yourself choosing the lesser of two evils. Should you buy the ice cream in the cardboard carton or the plastic tub? Should you buy a leather jacket made from methane-producing, land-occupying cows, or a vegan one made from PVC (a plastic)? While doing research for this book, I found myself wondering whether there was a hard-and-fast hierarchy: is saving water more important than avoiding plastic, which is more important than wasting trees? (And if there was a hierarchy, how could I turn it into a cool graphic that we could all refer to daily?)
It turns out that there’s no real hierarchy. Instead, says Hoover, we need to ask ourselves these questions: Could I do this with fewer resources (like water or electricity or fuel)? Does one item have less packaging than a similar one? Does it contain recycled content? Look to make better choices, and those will be the right choices.
And that brings me to this book itself. If you’re reading it on a device, you won’t need to figure out what to do with it once you’re done. If you’re reading a paper copy, please know that I tried to keep all the advice here as concise and specific as possible so that I didn’t waste pages and pages made from precious wood pulp by babbling needlessly. In the spirit of zero waste, once you’re done with this book, donate it to a library or a used bookshop, or share it with a friend. Encourage your friend to lend it to another friend once they’re finished, and so on and so on. Not only will that keep this book out of the landfill or recycling center but it will also spread the message that every choice we make can bring us one step closer to living (almost) zero waste.
ONE Eat and Cook (Almost) Zero Waste
There was a time, generations ago, when the majority of the country ate zero waste. When you raise your own animals, grow your own food, and prepare meals from scratch, you generate very little waste (especially if you compost the food scraps to fertilize your next crop). However, we live in modern times, and many of us buy a week’s supply of food at a time, bringing home animal protein packed in plastic wrap and Styrofoam, cookies and crackers sealed in plastic bags within cardboard boxes, dairy in plastic containers, and fruits and vegetables bagged in plastic. What we don’t eat, we often throw out once it’s past its sell-by date, and what we don’t buy in time, supermarkets, restaurants, and other retail food stores must throw out or donate to charity (they’re not legally allowed to give it away at the end of the day). According to the NRDC, 40 percent of food in the United States goes uneaten, and food waste is the largest component of the solid waste in landfills.1
So how do we get back to that more efficient way of eating—and still enjoy the convenience of everything from supermarket-prepared meals and fine dining to theme-park snacks and road-trip eats? There are big and small steps we can all take, every day, to reduce the amount of food- and food-related waste in this country. This list is a great starting point, but as you challenge yourself to tweak your lifestyle habits and embrace an (almost) zero-waste diet, you may find even more ways to scale back on what you toss, while enjoying every bite.
DITCH THE STRAW.
Plastic straws are an iconic example of the ubiquity of single-use plastics in modern living. One commonly cited stat (based on data from straw manufacturers) is that in the United States alone, five hundred million straws are used per day (which averages out to roughly 1.6 straws per person).2 Unfortunately, some of those straws become litter when people don’t discard them properly. Others make it into the recycling bin, but because straws are lightweight, they may not be properly sorted at the recycling plant and could end up as refuse. When plastic straws get into our oceans, they eventually break down into microplastics and are consumed by marine creatures like fish and seabirds—with often fatal results.3
For many of us, the answer is simple: use stainless steel, glass, silicone, or bamboo straws at home, and bring travel straws when on the go (give them a quick rinse after you’re finished, and then clean them thoroughly once you’re home). While some people with special needs or specific circumstances must use plastic straws specifically to drink effectively, the rest of us can do our part to reduce the amount of plastic straws used daily.
Which Reusable Straw Is Right for You?
STAINLESS STEEL: This fully recyclable metal is durable, nonbreakable, and dishwasher-safe. It also gets supercold when you sip cold beverages, and equally hot when you’re drinking warm liquids (whether that’s a problem for you is a matter of personal preference). Stainless steel is also opaque, so if you want to see that your straw is truly clean, this isn’t the material for yo
u.
GLASS: Quality versions are made with borosilicate, an especially sturdy ingredient that’s also used in Pyrex glassware. This makes them resistant to heat and cold; they won’t crack in extreme temperatures. But they can crack or shatter if dropped, so clumsy people and children might want to choose another option. (On the plus side: you can easily see how clean your straw is after that peanut-butter-and-banana smoothie!)
BAMBOO: Sustainable bamboo makes an ideal straw in its natural state; no extensive manufacturing required. These straws are also biodegradable and compostable, so if you want to compost one after a single use, feel free. However, they do wear out (usually by starting to splinter), so they’re not as durable as other options.
SILICONE: The big pro here is that you can bite on these straws the way you might on plastic straws without chipping a tooth. Additionally, these dishwasher-safe straws don’t leach chemicals when subjected to extreme temperatures (as plastic can).
PAPER: While this alternative to plastic straws may not immediately threaten marine life the way plastic will, it’s not really a zero-waste option. Once used, soiled paper straws are likely to go into regular garbage (rather than recycling), where they’ll head to a landfill and decompose, releasing methane gas into the atmosphere.4
ORDER ONLY AS MUCH FOOD AS YOU CAN EAT.
It’s a classic piece of advice from budget-travel experts: to cut down on dining-out costs, order an appetizer (or two) instead of an entree. But it’s not just a money-saving tactic, it’s also one that can reduce food waste. Anything you leave on your plate, of course, will go right into the trash once your server removes it from your table. And given that the average restaurant meal contains 1,205 calories—about half the recommended daily intake5—chances are you’re definitely not cleaning your plate. Overall, the restaurant industry generates about 11.4 million tons of food waste annually.6 Help reduce that by ordering only what you can eat in one sitting.
The (Almost) Zero-Waste Guide Page 1
