Zero Waste

Conventional waste management systems are damaging to the health of communities and the environment. The more waste that we send to landfills or incinerators, the more we pollute our air, water, and land, and the more cancer, asthma, and other adverse health consequences we create for those living nearby. Dump sites are often built in or around low-income residential neighborhoods, meaning that poor communities and people of color are much more likely to suffer the effects of dangerous environmental conditions created by waste processing. The need for zero waste is, therefore, an issue of social and environmental justice.

The scale of environmental injustice resulting from waste management practices is global. North Americans consume over 326 pounds of plastic per person per year, while for Southeast Asians the figure is about 53 pounds. Yet the negative health and environmental impacts of waste are not as visible in the Global North as they are in the South, because more money is invested in hiding waste through landfills, incinerators, and exporting. Though recycling is an important component of transitioning to zero waste systems, it doesn’t address the underlying problems of overconsumption and disposability. What’s not buried, burned, or recycled in the North is exported through the waste trade. Canada and the United States ship vast quantities of plastic waste to other countries, mainly in Asia, under the guise of recycling.

The Philippines, for instance, has had to contend with the consequences of waste from wealthier countries, as multinational companies based in the Global North have saturated the Philippine market with products in single-use plastics. Those companies and their home countries shirk the burden of managing their waste, and the hazards that the waste brings, particularly for the low-income communities that live near the dumping grounds. Some impacts include increased risks of flooding from clogged storm drains, threats to the livelihoods of people who rely on fishing, toxic emissions from burning plastic, dangers for wildlife that ingest plastic, and health hazards from small pieces of plastic entering human food systems. Meanwhile, the production of plastic requires fossil fuels that exacerbate climate change, the effects of which are felt disproportionately in the Global South.

In response, Fort Bonifacio, a village-sized district in Metro Manila, decentralized its waste management system and completed a material recovery facility in 2011 that composts food and stores recyclables for resale. This reduced waste by 95 percent and created new jobs locally. The new waste workers earn three times more than they would have as informal waste pickers by getting a fixed minimum income from the city, in addition to any revenue they receive from selling the recyclables and compost. Waste workers still face many hardships—such as social marginalization and the lack of a social safety net. But it makes a real difference when governments formalize these workers, pay them a living wage, and engage with them to help steer the governance of a zero waste system.

This effort is part of a global zero waste movement that seeks to extend the lifecycle of products and eliminate the injustices in prevailing waste disposal systems. Zero waste doesn’t mean that there won’t be anything to throw away; the goal is to reduce waste wherever possible by reducing the production and consumption of materials that turn into waste. It also means that discarded materials will either be reused, repurposed, repaired, composted, or recycled. Zero waste is about rethinking the usefulness of waste materials and organizing their circulation differently.

Also in the Philippines, the city of San Fernando in Pampanga has over 100 small-scale material recovery facilities. Before implementing a zero waste program, the city spent 70 million pesos (approximately $170,000) in waste hauling and tipping fees alone. Since the program began, waste has been collected from all residents and costs have dropped to just 12 million pesos per year, leaving more funding for education and health services. Cleaner canals have also reduced the mosquito population, resulting in a steep decline in dengue fever cases.

While zero waste practices do not depend on state regulation, legislation can influence industrial choices over products and packaging and can prompt action toward better waste management practices. Further, when initiatives are built and managed by communities, rather than imposed upon them by governments, power shifts into the hands of locals and away from waste-promoting companies.

No single person can challenge corporate waste systems alone, but when community groups come together, they can create shifts. Zero Waste Boston in the United States, for example, is a coalition of environmental groups that developed a worker-owned waste management cooperative, Cooperative Energy, Recycling, and Organics (CERO). CERO collects food waste from restaurants and other establishments and transports it to local farms outside of Boston for composting. In Baltimore, what started as a youth-led campaign to stop the installation of a new incinerator near their school is now a collaboration with the city to move toward zero waste.

Many companies have distorted the concept by claiming to be a zero waste organization while failing to enforce basic zero waste precepts like a prohibition of trash incineration. The success of zero waste efforts requires creative, grassroots solutions to manage waste and move power to the communities most affected by failing waste management systems. Amplifying local stories from all over the world is crucial in changing false narratives, preventing harmful waste management practices, and avoiding community health and environmental catastrophes. From policy to grassroots action, in the Global North and South, everyone’s efforts can move us toward a zero waste future.