Some estimates show that by 2050 there may be more plastic in the ocean than fish (937 million tons of plastic versus 895 million tons of fish). So yes, plastic pollution is a genuine problem. But asking government to somehow regulate it out of existence is not the solution.
Plastic pollution is a big problem. Decrying our “throwaway” culture, people increasingly look to government to somehow regulate it out of existence. One-hundred and twenty-seven countries now have some sort of regulations on plastic, some stricter than others. In 2017, Kenya passed the harshest ban, threatening those who manufacture, distribute, or sell so-called “single-use” plastics with up to a $40,000 fine or four years in jail.
Some have applauded the ban as a success, the government claiming that 80 percent of Kenyans no longer use the illicit plastics. Yet, as one headline put it, “Despite [its] pioneering ban, Kenya is drowning in single-use plastic.” Professor Judi Wakhungu, who instituted the ban in her previous role as Kenya’s minister for environment and natural resources, reflected in 2020 that “Wanton littering is sadly a part of Kenya’s culture, irrespective of socio-economic status. And beyond this, no one wants to take responsibility for their litter.”
Whether or not this and other bans are working, many now acknowledge that such measures definitely do have unintended consequences. Although shoppers in Thailand began using wheelbarrows, luggage, and plastic buckets to transport their groceries following the country’s plastic bag ban in 2020, people elsewhere typically opt for paper bags. But, Wired reports, “One of the most comprehensive research papers on the environmental impact of bags, published in 2007 by an Australian state government agency, found that paper bags have a higher carbon footprint than plastic. That’s primarily because more energy is required to produce and transport paper bags.” . . .
Biodegradable plastic bags, often allowed as alternatives, cut down on litter. But, surprisingly, the UN assessment concluded that biodegradables “might be the worst option when it comes to climate impacts, acidification, eutrophication, and toxic emissions.” In short, they’re not the eco-friendly solution many think them to be.
Cloth bags are the most energy-intensive alternative, also requiring cotton and thus arable lands and the machines to tend them. Cultivating cotton requires about 5,000 gallons of water per pound which, Wired notes, is more “than any vegetable and most meats.” One study calculated that distributing cloth bags requires eighty times the number of ships as for plastic bags and, likewise eighty times as much fuel, resulting in eighty times as much emissions. “A cotton bag needs to be used 50-150 times to have less impact on the climate compared to one SUPB [single-use plastic bag],” says the UN assessment. Yet, a Canadian study confirmed that “re-usable grocery bags can become an active microbial habitat and a breeding-ground for bacteria, yeast, mould, and coli forms,” one reason many locales banned them at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.
What’s more, “single-use” plastics often are reused, and banning them from stores has had unintended results. A recent poll showed that most Americans save and reuse plastic containers and bags. When locales ban stores from providing these bags at checkout, people end up purchasing plastic bags to use instead, and these tend to be thicker and thus take longer to break down.
My town, Franklin, Massachusetts, for instance, banned plastic bags in grocery and retail stores. Have you ever seen someone pick up dog poop with a paper bag? Me neither. For the first time in my life, I’ve had to purchase plastic bags to clean up after my dogs and to use in the small trash cans in my office and bathrooms. A 2019 study shows that in places with bans such as that in my town, consumer sales of the typically thicker plastic bags jumped by as much as 120 percent. Overall, it concluded, “bag bans shift consumers towards fewer but heavier bags.”
