Day 20 of 20: Field trip to the county landfill

What better way to conclude this 20-day challenge than to take the day off from work to tour the local landfill. 

My garbage goes to a county landfill about 10 miles outside of the city. From the highway, I knew I'd found it without seeing the posted sign because of the hawks and other large birds circling in the sky.

Nonetheless, it wasn't entirely what I expected. I thought many months of accumulated garbage would be visible to the eye from great distances, and that the smell would be unbearable. In fact, from the bottom of the hill, I mainly saw a large expanse of wild grasses topped with dirt that was being pushed around by heavy machinery. There was a smell, but I didn't need to use the bandana that I'd brought to cover my nose.

Adam, the person in charge of operations, agreed to give me a tour. The landfill is staffed by just over a dozen people, a fourth of whom are engineers. Adam is a civil engineer himself, and has been with the county landfill operation for 17 years. He asked me if I knew of the sledding hill in one of the city's parks, or the 'duck park' at the convention center. Those sites, he said, are all former landfills, filled to capacity.  The landfill we were standing on is the 'new' one, built in 1985. 

You might wonder what it takes to build a landfill. This too, was not what I expected. Old landfills typically used low-lying ground outside of a town's limits. Once the 'hole' was filled, the landfill was considered 'finished'. According to the American Foundry Society:

"Prior to the implementation of the Resource Conservation and Recovery Act (RCRA) in the 1970’s, most wastes from municipal and industrial sources were dumped in unlined pits with little environmental oversight.  RCRA ushered in the era of the modern sanitary landfill, a repository for “solid waste” materials that allows them to be contained in a controlled environment, with particular attention paid to the potential for groundwater contamination."

My county's landfill was given the 'okay' to be built only after proof of compliance with a list of conditions, including a minimum distance of five miles from any airport. "Garbage attracts birds, which is bad for airplanes," Adam explained.

The construction of a landfill is mathematically complex. Adam explained that it must be ten feet above groundwater, since rainwater that settles in landfill becomes a contaminant called leachate, a highly acidic by-product that then has to be contained. A landfill has many layers, including four feet of compacted clay, a thick plastic liner, a fabric cover to protect the plastic from tearing, and one foot of gravel. While the model below may not be identical to our county's model, it will give you an idea:

From the University of Florida

The plastic liner comes in giant rolls, 23 feet wide by 500 feet long, made of high density polyethylene (HDPE). This is a product of crude oil.

When a landfill is 'finished' (i.e., filled to approved capacity), it must be covered with one foot of soil, two feet of clay, a sheet of plastic, a sheet of fabric, a second two feet of soil, six inches of topsoil, and finally grass seed. Grass prevents erosion.

Adding to the complexity: landfills must have 'slope stability'. Adam explained that for every 100 feet of landfill height, there must be 400 feet of horizontal breadth. This explains the vast expanse of land needed. Stability and safety are critical to landfill management.  
 
Landfills must also prevent greenhouse gasses such as methane (CH4) and carbon dioxide (CO2) from escaping into the atmosphere. These gasses are highly flammable. Adam told me the story of a house in our city that exploded in the 1980's, which prompted the DNR to increase regulation of landfills. (Turns out gas explosions in the 1980's occurred elsewhere too.)

Ultimately, greenhouse gasses need to be 'destroyed', either through conversion to usable fuel which is burned when used, or through simple burning such as in flare towers (which have the tendency to alarm passersby who think that the land is on fire, Adam said). I saw more evidence of the former at this landfill.
 
To transport these gasses safely out of the landfill, 'drilling rigs' are sent from the surface to the bottom of the landfill where gas wells are built out of PVC pipes. 

A small processing plant on-site generates negative pressure which creates suction to draw the gasses out through a network of lateral pipes back to the plant. 

Adam explained that while garbage needs moisture and air to decompose, the gasses produced by decomposing garbage can only be collected in the absence of air, so the drilling rigs and gas wells must account for that. This landfill has 52 gas wells, and each of them must cover a 150-foot "radius of influence".

The captured gas comes out of the ground "moist and hot", which can't be used for fuel, so back at the plant, "drip legs" and "chillers" remove moisture and cool it. The end product is used to power 15 county pick-up trucks, as well as to generate electricity.

"Your trash is my cash." 

The generation of electricity, which the county sold back to the electrical utility, netted 3.5 million dollars in 2013. This is a good thing, since running greenhouse gasses to the energy plant is an extremely costly operation. 

The landfill charges $50 for a ton of garbage and accepts 600 tons of garbage per day. The money for the land and for management of the landfill comes from consumers, either directly by those who drop off waste that isn't collected curbside, or indirectly via property tax payments to the city, which pays the county. (See also day #6.)  Federal and state taxes don't cover landfill, something Adam regularly has to tell trash-haulers who want to dump on demand. 

At the end of every day, what's dumped in the landfill must be covered by six inches of dirt. Heavy machinery works all day, every weekday and half of every Saturday, to spread the garbage out, break it apart and compact it before finally covering it with dirt.

  
My county's landfill is over 99% full, and Adam explained that the landfill is expanding to accommodate our garbage for another 15 years.  

I asked Adam what can be done to help mitigate the effects of increasing amounts of land being used to house our garbage. He responded: 

Buy only what you need, and recycle appropriately. 

For example, the county is able to recover construction waste that is separated correctly, and sends it to another facility where 80% of it is recycled. (Success!)  In the same breath, however, Adam noted that 20% of the landfill's total 'garbage' is paper, which can and should be recycled instead.

During the tour, we saw two television sets that had been dumped in the landfill by someone who didn't want to pay the recovery fee. 

This is an example of an increasing "e-waste" problem.  

"Due to the crude recycling process, many pollutants, such as persistent organic pollutants and heavy metals, are released from e-waste, which can easily accumulate in the human body through the inhalation of contaminated air.

...researchers have now linked e-waste to adverse effects on human health, such as inflammation and oxidative stress – precursors to cardiovascular disease, DNA damage and possibly cancer." - Retrieved from the Institute of Physics

We also saw two teenagers dumping  construction waste, including a sizable stack of large cardboard boxes, which should also be recycled.  

When I asked why they didn't separate it and take it to the bottom on the hill where there's a cardboard recycling drop-off spot, one of the boys said: 

"I pretty much don't want to deal with it."  

When I heard that, I felt hopeless for this world. Adam says it goes with the job. He added that effective landfill management depends on the honesty of its consumers. 

Adam mentioned that he's been to landfills all over the world. In some places, he said, "people go to the landfill to find a meal. Here, we're a prosperous country and people buy more than they need. Consume, consume, consume...."  

Where does it end? 

It ends one person at a time. 

Day 19 of 20: How many R's for a healthy planet?

Tomorrow is 'garbage day' in my neighborhood and the last of this 20-day challenge. In day #7, the deliberate order of the wording in the 'reduce-reuse-recycle' equation became clearer to me. 

Nondisposable living is not just about recycling, but about reducing the demand for endless creation of disposable goods and packaging. When we can't reduce, we can reuse -- except sometimes we're advised not to for health reasons. See day #5.

Some models put 'refuse' (as in 'abstain entirely') before 'reduce-reuse-recycle'. The Plastic Pollution Coalition says 

Collecting plastics at curbside fosters the belief that, like aluminum and glass, these will be converted into new similar objects. This is not the case with plastic. The best we can hope for plastics is that these will be turned into other products such as doormats, textiles, plastic lumber, etc. These products will still end at some point in the landfill – and do not stem the need for more virgin petroleum product. This is not recycling, but down-cycling. 

The Plastic Pollution Coalition encourages a 'refuse disposable plastics' pledge in order to minimize the demand for the creation of new disposable plastics in the first place.

While I refused disposable plastics throughout the last 19 days, I definitely had plenty of it around the house when I began, especially in the kitchen and bathroom. Some things I'll be able to reuse, such as the shampoo bottles that I can refill at my food co-op.

Some things I won't continue to consume, such as condiment containers and plastic bags for fruit. Other things, such as vitamins and contact lens solution (pictured below), however, don't come in glass containers nor in bulk, so the decision to refuse these things is more involved.
 
Here's my recycling from the last 19 days:

Here's the garbage:

Bagged up, 19 days of garbage looks like this (tape and chopsticks on top for scale):

This is less garbage than I usually create in nearly three weeks, but far more than the family of four doing Zero Waste creates in four months (see day #6). 

The question that I'm sitting with tonight: 

How far am I willing to go? 

One-time disposables are pretty easy to refuse by bringing my own silverware and water bottle, minimizing eating on the run when the food is served on disposables, bringing my own canvas or cloth bags instead of taking plastic, using muslin instead of plastic bags for buying vegetables. Those are the big ones in terms of frequency of opportunity.

What about reducing consumption of other things that are sold in plastic? Will I make the time to my own yogurt all of the time instead of ever buying in it plastic tubs?  (See day #1.)  Will I find a substitute for packaging tape? What kind of toothbrush am I going to use?  Can I find a substitute for plastic-packaged dental floss, and dental floss that isn't nylon (a thermoplastic)?  Is carry-out dining a thing of my past? Will I just say no to beverages served in plastic cups at events in which glass is prohibited? Can I be the person who asks event planners how they could consider doing things differently - without becoming tiresome?

Day 18 of 20: This little piggy went to market...

Farmers Market is one way to purchase fresh food and other goods with less packaging than in grocery stores. The primary reason for this is that what's sold is grown or made locally and regionally, and sold directly to the consumer.

This morning I biked to the big Saturday market in my city with cloth bag and coffee thermos in hand. My goal was to find bread and cheese that wasn't packaged in plastic (and to find coffee). What I noticed was that while there was less individual packaging, plastic bags were everywhere for the taking.

If I'd wanted snap peas, for example, I could have dumped them in my cloth bag and returned the cardboard container to the vendor for zero packaging. Most vendors though put their products, packaging and all, into a plastic bag for consumers. 

For every canvas bag that someone had brought from home, I saw at least two plastic bags.

One vendor had a rack of biodegradable bags. I bought some of her organic kale and accepted the bag, thinking it'd be interesting to do an experiment (i.e., bury the bag in my backyard to see how long it takes to become 'one with the soil').   

The problem with most biodegradable packaging, however, is that most of us don't bury these bags in our compost or soil. Biodegradability requires aeration for decomposition. According to Packaging Digest, most 'biodegradable' packaging 

"...will end up in a landfill where it's unlikely that biodegradability will do it any good. In the oxygen-deprived enclosure of a landfill, things biodegrade anaerobically, which essentially is a big word meaning they generate a lot of methane as they decompose. Methane, you may have heard, is an extra-potent greenhouse gas. Landfills are the third biggest source of man-made methane emissions to the atmosphere. If trash didn't have that pesky quality of biodegradability, landfills would be a bit more benign."

Command Packaging, a producer of reusable bags, says it more bluntly: "The hype about biodegradable plastic bags is just that; hype. These bags will only degrade if disposed of in an organic composting facility which is unlikely in most U.S. cities today."

I should have said 'no, thanks'. 

The good news: I did find un-packaged bread and paper-wrapped cheese.

When I got home, I also found reusable muslin bags for sale online -- as well as a recipe for making one's own reusable bags -- for hauling and storing produce. Thanks to friend, Ginny, for mentioning that idea. 

Day 17 of 20: BPA with that H2O?

I've had this plastic water filter for over ten years.

The water in my city is generally safe to drink, in part because the city uses chlorine to lower the risk of microbial contamination.  

Water was chlorinated as early as 1908 in the U.S., which changed the landscape of public health:

"A 2004 statistical study of disease rates in cities found clean water to be the reason for rapid declines in urban death rates during the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. The study concludes that clean water was responsible for 'nearly half of the total mortality reduction in major cities, three-quarters of the infant mortality reduction, and nearly two-thirds of the child mortality reduction.' The study puts forth a striking finding -- that chlorination and filtration reduced typhoid fever by 91percent within 5 years, leading to its near-eradication by 1936." -Retrieved from Water Quality & Health, based on a 2004 study by National Bureau of Economic Research

The U.S. passed the Safe Drinking Water Act in 1974 which regulates and enforces disinfection of the public water supply with chloramine and chlorine dioxide, as well as chlorine.

While chlorine disinfects, it also adds a distinct taste and smell, which is the primary reason I've used a filter for drinking water. Ten years ago, however, no one was talking about bisphenol-A (BPA) in the plastic; it was officially recalled from baby bottles and sippy cups just two years ago, in July of 2012.  

In day #9 of this challenge, I learned that while there's been a more wide-scale movement toward the use of BPA-free plastics, researchers are now concerned that BPA-free substitutes are also unsafe.

I have no idea whether the pitcher filter I've used all these years is BPA-free or not (probably not), but during this challenge, I began researching alternatives for the removal of chlorine. My criteria include the following: 

• The container or mechanism shouldn't be plastic (if I'm going to bother replacing the one I've got...)
• Replaceable filters should generate zero to minimal waste 
• The filtering unit would ideally be economical in size (i.e., not take up a lot of space)
• If the unit requires installation, it shouldn't be so complicated that I have to hire a plumber (this one's negotiable)

Apartment Therapy offered a good overview of drinking water filters. Brondell, for example, produces a product that is easy to install and which offers long-lasting filters (two require replacement every six months and the third has to be replaced once per year). I was curious about the filters themselves though, so I emailed the company. They responded:

"As of now, no, we do not recycle our filters, and our filters are not recyclable.  We do not have a filter recycling program in place for our customers, either.  Though it is regrettable, we are working hard toward creating compostable filters. However, it's still too early in the development stage to be able to give an accurate estimate of when these filters will be available and in our systems."

Soma offers a highly portable filtering carafe that uses filters "made entirely from biodegradable materials, including coconut shells, silk, and a plant-based casing." It appears that the Soma doesn't filter as wide a spectrum of contaminants as the Brondell and its filters have to be replaced every 60 days (similar to a Britta). 

New Wave's 10-Stage faucet filter is also a possibility. It filters a wide spectrum of contaminants, and the filters are meant to last for a full year, but their filters come in heavy-duty plastic, and the water travels through plastic. (Update July 6: This company has not yet responded to either of the emails I sent asking if they take back their filters for re-use/ recycling.) 

I found another refillable kind of filter (similar to the Soma and common Britta) from a company called Big Berkey. They produce a line of filters for various household sizes. The containers are made of stainless steel and the filters are carbon. Their FAQ states that the filters are "made of organic materials and will not leach contaminants back into the ground." When I emailed to ask how they are cased, they replied that "there is no plastic but the base of the filter is nylon." The units require counter space and are expensive compared to the commonly-available 'pitcher-style' filter. However, the portable, stainless steel container with low-waste replaceable filters is definitely a more sustainable option. 

A friend also mentioned that her husband purchased a simple carbon filter from a home improvement store and installed it under the sink. At first glance, most if not all of these are made of plastic, however. 

I haven't decided what I'll use to filter my water when I replace the pitcher, but when I do, I'll send the pitcher to Terracycle's Britta Brigade.  

If you use a filter, what do you use? Any tips?

Day 16 of 20: Big hair is fine, big packaging is another story...

In day #2 of this challenge, I began to notice and collect all of the disposable stuff in my house. Little stuff, everywhere:
  

I especially took notice of the stuff made of plastic in the kitchen and bathroom. For the first time ever, I turned the toothpaste tube over to discover that the manufacturer participates in the TerraCycle Program, which collects 'hard to recycle items' (postage paid!) and makes new things with them.

"TerraCycle will take traditional non-recyclable items like potato chips bags, pens, cookie packages, drink pouches, and candy wrappers. They then turn them into consumer products like insulated coolers, picture frames, pencils, placemats, flower pots, and laptop holders...."

The more I read about the program, the more I'm inspired to tell others about it. 

Did you know that TerraCycle does its work in 23 countries? 

The links on the TerraCycle World Map reveal the kinds of products that are consumed in each country and what waste becomes when it's reused. (Sociologically fascinating!) 

Discovering TerraCycle prompted me to investigate which other manufacturers offer recycling of their own waste by-products, in the event that they're not traditionally recyclable. Aveda is an example of a company doing cool things. They'll not only take their own Aveda product containers, but they collect caps from many other products: 

"This includes caps that twist on with a threaded neck such as caps on shampoo, water, soda, milk and other beverage bottles and pharmaceutical lids, flip top caps on tubes and food product bottles (such as ketchup and mayonnaise), laundry detergents and some jar lids such as peanut butter. Click here to download a Cap Collection Guide."

Recently, I emptied two different Aveda hair care product tubes. I sliced the bottles open to access the last, surprisingly ample blobs of product lingering at the bottom of both tubes and set them aside for a time when I could find a location that would take them.

 

Tonight, I took the empty containers to a nearby Aveda hair salon which gladly accepted the return. What does Aveda do with the waste? According to Dave Rapaport, Vice President of Earth & Community Care at Aveda: "All materials will be recycled, reused or burned for energy recovery—with the intention of utilizing collected material to create new Aveda packaging or accessories." (From the Jan/Feb issue of Beauty Packaging)

Another product in my bathroom doesn't have a similar program, and its caps are seriously heavy duty. 

While I like this product, I prefer supporting companies that share responsibility for their waste by-products. Imagine which companies would prosper if we all did this.

Reducing the need (or desire) for products that have to be recycled in the first place is still the primary goal of nondisposable living since recycling is itself an energy-intensive process (see day #7). 

Sometimes though, making your own or buying in bulk is not a realistic option. When purchasing things in disposable packaging, recyclable options are generally preferable to those which are destined for landfill. This garbage could become your next toothbrush:

 

Day 15 of 20: The art of eating

It's day #15 and I haven't written about how I shop for groceries. There are a few reasons for that. 

First, I'm lucky to work in a place with a cafeteria. I generally eat there at least once a day, which makes daytime choices for food easy. While disposable food containers are commonplace, there are always options served on ceramic dishes, and I keep a silver fork in my office. 

Second, I'm lucky to have access to a food co-op which sells regionally-grown produce as well as 'staple' items in bulk. I tend to make more frequent trips for smaller amounts of whole and fresh food rather than 'stocking up' on non-perishable goods which are highly packaged. I recognize that this is a class issue. If I were poor, I would likely not have convenient access to a grocery store at all, much less a co-op. The Food Trust's "Fresh Food Initiative" is one group working to change this.

Third, the busier I am, the more I eat out because it requires less planning and no clean-up. Before the challenge, I also relied on 'carry-out', although I've curbed that habit. No restaurant that I know of allows carry-out in one's own reusable containers (unless you're taking leftovers after a meal). Some establishments, such as the University of Maryland's Green Dining Program, are creating innovative ways to encourage patrons to reuse portable food containers. I'd hesitate to use those containers, however, if they're plastic. See post #9 about the risks of BPA and BPA-free plastics.

Alas, the art of eating nondisposably in my case is several parts luck, combined with some planning. This evening, unlike last evening in which I met a friend for dinner, I did some light shopping. I started with reusable cloth bags and glass containers:

The small jar is the perfect size for nut butter, freshly extruded from a bin of almonds that rests on top of the machine:

I used the large mason jars for granola and pecans from the bulk food bins:

While I would have loved to have purchased grapes and blueberries, they were all plastic-packaged, perhaps because they come from farther distances where the growing season is longer, or perhaps because plastic is simply more convenient than any alternative.

The farmer's market might have blueberries that I could get in my own container. Not sure about grapes. In the meantime, I chose loose apples, apricots and kiwis sold by weight, and shifted to the unpackaged bonanza of vegetables for a few complements to the greens I still have at home.

Everything but the almond milk and tonic water, which aren't sold in bulk, will be eaten or reused. The disposables include waxed cardboard and glass, which can at least be recycled.

One of the best parts of the whole evening was meeting a fellow shopper who is also trying to live without producing unnecessary garbage.

The reusable bags in our carts reminded me of the scene in Albert Lamorisse's book, Le Ballon Rouge (The Red Balloon) in which Pascal meets a playmate with a blue balloon. Don't the bags look as if they are socializing?

Day 14 of 20: Hurry now! Offer ends soon!

Years ago, I wrote to the Direct Mail Marketing Service to "opt-out" of receiving junk mail, and it worked. For a long time I didn't receive any. Failure to renew that opt-out, coupled perhaps by a magazine I once purchased with expiring frequent flyer miles, means that I'm now getting enough junk mail to insulate a house. In just the last two weeks, I've received a hefty stack, none of it wanted:  

When I first started noticing that I was getting more junk mail, I simply put it in the bag with paper recycling, except that unwanted mail increasingly comes with plastic cards stuck to the paper with gummy adhesives, stickers, glossy return-address labels, greeting cards, laminated maps, and other stuff that isn't necessarily recyclable.

So, in addition to sorting junk mail into recyclable and non-recyclable waste piles, I started returning some of it with a polite note asking that the organization remove my name from their mailing list. I sent those back using their own postage-paid envelopes:

That hasn't seemed to help at all either, although the guys at my local post office say that they're grateful for the business.

There are a few aggressive internet companies that send a 'hurry now! offer ends soon!' letter every other week. Earlier this year, I pooled their solicitations until I'd accumulated an impressive stack for each company; wrote a formal business letter to the head of their respective direct-mail marketing centers requesting that they stop sending me unsolicited mail; and included the stack for evidence. I continue to get their mail. (Do they really think I would give them my business at this point?)

There's some evidence that paper waste is on the decline since many marketers have shifted to cyber-advertising. Still, waste is waste. Why cut down a tree for something that I won't even bother to read? 

Here's another example: I haven't used a phone book in years. When I researched how to 'opt out' of those, I found instruction on my municipality's website:

“All you need to do is simply place your phone book in your green recycling cart.”

That, folks, is not an opt-out. Said the tree.

So, I'll be renewing my opt-out with the Direct Marketing Association's Mail Preference Service again (sigh). Doing this in writing by old-fashioned letter is free; online costs $5.00.  This opt-out lasts for five years, so one has to remember to renew, which I didn't and accounts for the pile of mail on my table.  
***Update: the web links I provided in June no longer worked in November. When I searched for the Direct Marketing Association, I found new 'opt-out' links: one for dmachoice.org (which appears to be a new web link for the Direct Marketing Association) and another for directmail.com. Both enable opt-out online without a fee.

For better or worse, I won't be submitting my information to the Yellow Pages Opt Out. Read this if you want to know why.

There are other things one can do, such as opting-out of pre-screened insurance and credit offers through the Federal Trade Commission. Online opt-out lasts five years. Permanent opt-out requires printing and mailing a form. 
 
If I don't want to do the work myself, I can pay a fee for a company to do it for me.
41pounds.org is an example. They'll even donate some of their profit.  

Is it me, or does living in a world in which companies make money by helping people to stop getting mailings from other companies that are trying to make money make you wonder if we've lost all perspective?