What I’ve just described is the linear economy we live in now. But what if there’s a world where the polyester and nylon threads of my lime green shoes could be separated from each other, undyed, and then transformed into something brand new, like a rain jacket? And when that rain jacket was made, the company responsible for producing it created a plan for the end of the jacket’s life as detailed as the plan it made for selling it? In this alternative world, the company factors in the ugly external cost of disposal into the price of the jacket. Intentionally designing the jacket to be efficiently recycled might make it slightly more expensive, but it can help extend the value of the jacket. Not only are buyers more likely to take care of items they pay more for, but designing a product to be recyclable also literally extends that product’s use — exponentially so. That jacket could be taken back for repairs or company resale. Or it could be transformed again and again and again through innovative recycling processes, ensuring that the material in the jacket is no longer seen as disposable.If it costs money to throw something away, just as it would to make something new, well, hopefully you would choose the option that doesn’t require so much extraction of new materials and waste. Instead, you’d opt to reuse the materials you already have.
This is one way a circular economy — an economy where waste is designed out — might work. When I first heard about the idea of circularity, I thought it was a load of hogwash, a lofty buzzword that corporations across several industries have latched onto to sell their latest products or trick consumers into believing they’re operating ethically for people, animals, and the environment. As my colleague Sam Delgado reported for Vox, voluntary corporate social responsibility programs are notorious for being vague about the actual impacts of their supply chains (and lately, some companies pledging to be more environmentally friendly have abandoned efforts to do so). International regulation certainly isn’t where it needs to be to ensure the rights of workers and those who bear the burden of living near factories and landfills. Yet according to industry experts, designers, activists, and even the United Nations, a circular economy would help separate consumption from some of its ills and get us back on track to meeting key climate goals. (About3.3 percent of global emissions originate from the waste sector, but that’s not including the emissions during the production process in the textile, plastics, and technology industries. Textiles, for example, are responsible for about 2-8 percent of emissions, according to the UN.) It’s not a far-off idea, either: There are government-led initiatives and programs dedicated to solving how circularity would work. Scientists are figuring out how to recycle synthetic fabrics and lithium batteries and all sorts of materials. Brands are trying to design products that take end-of-life into consideration. These are all steps in the right direction. There’s just one question: Is this really possible?