The Power of the Deposit
I grew up in Michigan, the only state where aluminum cans and glass bottles have a deposit of 10 cents. In a handful of other states, the deposit is a nickel, but if you buy a twelve pack of Coke in Michigan, you're going to pay an extra $1.20 at checkout. The only way for you to get that money back is by bringing the empty cans back to the store, feeding them into big machines, and taking a little slip of paper to the cashier, who will give you back your $1.20.
It's not recycling by mandate. Instead, people are given a small financial incentive that encourages them to take the environmentally-friendly course of action or else the state gets to keep the 10 cents. And on the surface, it appears to work very well. As a result, very few aluminum cans end up in landfills.
There's a book that was written about ten years ago called The Skeptical Environmentalist. Among environmentalists, this book is fairly well known and despised because it's extremely critical of the traditional environmental movement. I actually read the whole thing a few years ago, not because I hate environmentalism, but because I was curious what a reputable detractor would have to say.
I'm not an expert, but the coverage of the material seemed, for lack of a better term, "incomplete". (So don't take my mention of the book as a recommendation.) The one lesson I took away from the book was that the most effective solutions to environmental problems tend to involve economic incentives. The deposit on aluminum cans is the perfect example. For each can, hold a dime ransom until people bring them back to be recycled. Money talks.
I remember being in high school, living at my parent's house, and not having a job. Every three months or so, I'd find myself needing some money for something and remembering that there two or three trash bags filled with old pop and beer cans (not beer that I was drinking) that I could take to Kroger to cash in. Easy money.
In Michigan, you'll often see homeless people rooting through trash cans looking for aluminum cans. They know that if they compile enough of them, they'll be able to turn them in and get enough money to buy a meal for themselves or their families. Some (but not all) use the money to buy alcohol or drugs.
So, an interesting emergent property of the deposit on cans is a small amount of wealth redistribution. The State of Michigan doesn't care who bought the can originally, and will return the deposit to whomever turns the can in. Since a lot of cans end up in the trash, thrown away by people who would be too inconvenienced to take it back themselves, Michigan becomes a sort of Robin Hood, taking deposits from the rich and giving them to the poor.
I was thinking about this yesterday, walking down a narrow alley off the street next to a Ralph's, which was covered in litter. Imagine taking the aluminum can deposit idea and applying it almost everywhere. Imagine almost every piece of trash on the street having a fixed dollar value. Imagine that we made everything recyclable, or failing that, made it reusable, and that we charged people a deposit on that stuff so they'd have to bring it back to get their money. If they don't bring it back, and it ends up in the trash, then someone else might bring it back for them. And if it ends up on the sidewalk or the street, then we'll have hoards of people who are willing to spend their days cleaning up the streets.
A lot of grocery stores offer reusable bags that you can buy for a dollar or two, which you can bring back on subsequent visits. If you forget them, though, you have to either buy new ones, or take the disposable bags. (I have this problem.) However, if they "loaned" you the bags, and charged a deposit for each one they handed out, then I wouldn't have to worry about how many I accrued. If I end up with fifteen of them, I can take the excess back. If someone throws them away, then someone else can bring them back.
Starbucks is working on a 100% recyclable cup. Why not make a reusable cup that people have to put down a 50 cent or dollar deposit for? They get it back when they bring the cup back, and it gets washed and reused again. (A friend of mine felt this seemed "unsanitary". She told me this as we were sitting in a restaurant drinking Diet Cokes out of glassware.)
This is one way you can market wealth redistribution to those who oppose it: sneak it in as a solution to a big environmental problem.
Now, I want to be perfectly clear: I'm not saying this is a solution to the homeless problem, or the litter problem, or any environmental problem. These ideas are imperfect because they accommodate some existing problems instead of solving them, and for any problem it solves, it likely creates a different kind of problem in its place.
You better believe that if you charged a deposit for each cigarette sold, and then gave the deposit back for each butt that someone returns, you'd start to hear stories of homeless people trying to collect cigarette butts on the highway getting hit by cars. Given the Starbucks example, you end up with less trash being generated in the form of paper cups, but suddenly, each coffee shop is using lots more water to wash the reusable cups, and freshwater is a very valuable and scarce global resource. And while it may give the disadvantaged an incentive to pick up trash, it would probably start fights between them on the streets over claims of territory. And some (but not all) of them would use the money they get to buy drugs and alcohol.
Michigan isn't the only state with a deposit on aluminum cans, but a lot of states don't have that yet. So they run silly little promos of cartoon butterflies designed to teach children the benefits of recycling. But we're already working really hard (for better or worse) to teach our children just how important money is, and if they don't learn it in school, the real world teaches them that lesson soon enough.
To me, it makes more sense to piggyback any environmental message you want to spread, or action you want people to take, on that very lesson. It's easier than coming up with your own lesson. The deposit is the perfect example of that.
It's not recycling by mandate. Instead, people are given a small financial incentive that encourages them to take the environmentally-friendly course of action or else the state gets to keep the 10 cents. And on the surface, it appears to work very well. As a result, very few aluminum cans end up in landfills.
There's a book that was written about ten years ago called The Skeptical Environmentalist. Among environmentalists, this book is fairly well known and despised because it's extremely critical of the traditional environmental movement. I actually read the whole thing a few years ago, not because I hate environmentalism, but because I was curious what a reputable detractor would have to say.
I'm not an expert, but the coverage of the material seemed, for lack of a better term, "incomplete". (So don't take my mention of the book as a recommendation.) The one lesson I took away from the book was that the most effective solutions to environmental problems tend to involve economic incentives. The deposit on aluminum cans is the perfect example. For each can, hold a dime ransom until people bring them back to be recycled. Money talks.
I remember being in high school, living at my parent's house, and not having a job. Every three months or so, I'd find myself needing some money for something and remembering that there two or three trash bags filled with old pop and beer cans (not beer that I was drinking) that I could take to Kroger to cash in. Easy money.
In Michigan, you'll often see homeless people rooting through trash cans looking for aluminum cans. They know that if they compile enough of them, they'll be able to turn them in and get enough money to buy a meal for themselves or their families. Some (but not all) use the money to buy alcohol or drugs.
So, an interesting emergent property of the deposit on cans is a small amount of wealth redistribution. The State of Michigan doesn't care who bought the can originally, and will return the deposit to whomever turns the can in. Since a lot of cans end up in the trash, thrown away by people who would be too inconvenienced to take it back themselves, Michigan becomes a sort of Robin Hood, taking deposits from the rich and giving them to the poor.
I was thinking about this yesterday, walking down a narrow alley off the street next to a Ralph's, which was covered in litter. Imagine taking the aluminum can deposit idea and applying it almost everywhere. Imagine almost every piece of trash on the street having a fixed dollar value. Imagine that we made everything recyclable, or failing that, made it reusable, and that we charged people a deposit on that stuff so they'd have to bring it back to get their money. If they don't bring it back, and it ends up in the trash, then someone else might bring it back for them. And if it ends up on the sidewalk or the street, then we'll have hoards of people who are willing to spend their days cleaning up the streets.
A lot of grocery stores offer reusable bags that you can buy for a dollar or two, which you can bring back on subsequent visits. If you forget them, though, you have to either buy new ones, or take the disposable bags. (I have this problem.) However, if they "loaned" you the bags, and charged a deposit for each one they handed out, then I wouldn't have to worry about how many I accrued. If I end up with fifteen of them, I can take the excess back. If someone throws them away, then someone else can bring them back.
Starbucks is working on a 100% recyclable cup. Why not make a reusable cup that people have to put down a 50 cent or dollar deposit for? They get it back when they bring the cup back, and it gets washed and reused again. (A friend of mine felt this seemed "unsanitary". She told me this as we were sitting in a restaurant drinking Diet Cokes out of glassware.)
This is one way you can market wealth redistribution to those who oppose it: sneak it in as a solution to a big environmental problem.
Now, I want to be perfectly clear: I'm not saying this is a solution to the homeless problem, or the litter problem, or any environmental problem. These ideas are imperfect because they accommodate some existing problems instead of solving them, and for any problem it solves, it likely creates a different kind of problem in its place.
You better believe that if you charged a deposit for each cigarette sold, and then gave the deposit back for each butt that someone returns, you'd start to hear stories of homeless people trying to collect cigarette butts on the highway getting hit by cars. Given the Starbucks example, you end up with less trash being generated in the form of paper cups, but suddenly, each coffee shop is using lots more water to wash the reusable cups, and freshwater is a very valuable and scarce global resource. And while it may give the disadvantaged an incentive to pick up trash, it would probably start fights between them on the streets over claims of territory. And some (but not all) of them would use the money they get to buy drugs and alcohol.
Michigan isn't the only state with a deposit on aluminum cans, but a lot of states don't have that yet. So they run silly little promos of cartoon butterflies designed to teach children the benefits of recycling. But we're already working really hard (for better or worse) to teach our children just how important money is, and if they don't learn it in school, the real world teaches them that lesson soon enough.
To me, it makes more sense to piggyback any environmental message you want to spread, or action you want people to take, on that very lesson. It's easier than coming up with your own lesson. The deposit is the perfect example of that.