We Mustn’t Let COVID Undermine Progress on Sustainability

Among the many disturbing impacts of the global COVID pandemic is the backsliding in hard-won progress on sustainability practices, both personal and civic. More takeout meals mean more disposable waste, including Styrofoam, single-use plastic, and plastic bags. Concern for spread of the virus through touchable surfaces means more single-use condiments (in their own non-recyclable packages), retailers like Starbucks refusing to refill customers’ reusable coffee mugs, and grocery stores telling customers not to bring reusable bags. And of course, the tens of millions of single use masks and disinfecting wipes that were not part of the typical pre-pandemic product stream, the latter of which, according to a recent study, might actually be making the insides of our homes more toxic.

The impacts the pandemic is having on sustainable practices are tangible and significant all around the world. They might be short-lived. However, we fear that people may be reluctant to return to more sustainable ways. A “do whatever it takes” approach to getting life back to pre-pandemic normal is likely in tension with a desire to return to sustainable practices. Even as the best long-term outcome is to commit new urgency into returning to a different and more sustainable normal, a principle at the heart of the “Build Back Better” movement, this temporary backslide valley might be built in as the new base assumption. We can avoid this, however, if we are mindful and prioritize new supply chains, new practices, and a new philosophy toward consumption.

Ridership is down so much on public transit across the country that systems are facing huge budget deficits and considering permanent cuts. Researchers are using data from our cell phones to track requests for driving directions and questions about transit. The former are up, the latter are down and not rebounding. The dramatic decrease we saw in driving and vehicle emissions during the first months of the pandemic—which led to bluer skies and easier breathing in cities across the country—is no more. People are back in their cars, and in cars rather than on trains and busses. But according to a study by EBP US, Inc. in May 2020, US transit agencies are facing an overall funding shortfall of $48.8 billion between CY 2020 Q2 and the end of CY 2021. The CARES Act support will not cover the entire expected shortfall. Nationally, transit ridership and fare revenues were down in April 2020 from April 2019 by 73 percent and 86 percent, respectively. Tax revenues, which are a significant source of support for public transit, are also down due to the decrease in economic activity. But expenses are up, as systems keep the busses and subways running and rack up costs for intensive cleaning and protective equipment. A triple whammy on the income and expenses side. There are employment impacts too, with a predicted loss of 37,000 construction jobs in CY 2020 and 34,000 jobs in 2021 due to project delays and cancellations.  

And what about how COVID-19 will affect millions of workers who are finding it very feasible to work from home and who may not want to get back on the bus or train to commute to an office…. ever? A September 2020 survey by ADP Canada and Maru/Blue found that 45 percent of working Canadians surveyed say they would prefer to work remotely at least three days a week. San Francisco based software behemoth Salesforce has told its employees they should plan to work from home until at least August 2021. Our own institution, Indiana University, has made it clear that if we do not need to be on campus, we should stay home. And it turns out that many faculty, staff and students in universities around the world who don’t need to be in a lab or other physical location can operate pretty well from home and some may prefer it.

Finally, how will the reaction to COVID-19, and the fear of future pandemics, change people’s views about the kinds of communities they live in? In recent years, there has been an increased movement by younger generations away from the suburban lifestyle of their parents, with single-family houses, large lots—a car-dependent, no sidewalk environment—towards denser, multi-use communities, where your feet, a bicycle or scooter can get you to errands and entertainment. Denser urban neighborhoods have also been seen as at least a partial answer to the shortage of affordable housing in our cities. As the New York Times reported in May 2020, cities that were moving towards more transit-oriented, denser development may now be changing course. The Times quotes Isaiah Madison, a board member of Livable California, a nonprofit group that promotes local control, who said “The whole discussion about housing will change. A lot of the bills and laws the Legislature have been discussing will be looked at in a different lens.”

Transit ridership may be down, but trash is up. Way up. City waste haulers are finding more trash at the curb (a 50 percent increase was reported in Chicago), while city recycling programs are dialing back, due to safety or budget concerns. In July, city sanitation workers in Philadelphia collected 17,869 tons—roughly 35 percent more than they collected in May and a 50 percent increase from July 2019. So much trash is being produced that Philadelphia announced a suspension of recycling pickup so that the collectors could catch up.

Plastic waste is of particular concern, due to its longevity and ubiquity in every corner of the global environment, the use of fossil fuels as its feed stock, and the emissions of toxic pollutants in its manufacture and disposal. Yes, plastic is critical in personal protective equipment and medical equipment needed to treat COVID patients and protect health care workers, but the amount of plastic waste from other types of activities is also soaring. The production and consumption of single-use plastic, such as disposable cutlery, containers, bottles, packing materials, is projected to increase by 30 percent in 2020 over previous years. With low recycling efficiencies seen in across the US, averaging roughly 12 percent for plastics the limited capacity to recycle some high number plastics, and low price for plastics, there isn’t much capacity to capture this product before it ends up in incinerators or landfills.

In Thailand, agencies report that “plastic waste has increased from 1,500 tons to 6,300 tons per day, owing to soaring home deliveries of food.” The knee-jerk reaction that single-use is safer has meant more unneeded single-use tableware for people getting takeout to eat at home. CDC’s guidelines for restaurants and bars is to “Use disposable food service items (e.g., utensils, dishes, napkins, tablecloths).” This concern about contact infection is certainly understandable given earlier science behind the virus’ longevity on surfaces, but research points to the dominance of aerosol droplet transmission in driving infection, thus tipping the practical scales of prevention more toward reusable cloth masks than single-use plastic forks.

The global impact of the trashnado goes far beyond trash collection, landfills, and recycling facilities, and into the depths of the oceans. Oceans are already burdened with significant trash and plastic pollution. The famous Pacific Ocean Garbage Patch, a floating testament to unsustainable practices, is largely composed of plastics. Brutal images of migratory sea birds dead, bellies full of plastic, impart a shock value. But organisms large and small are severely impacted by marine plastics and the decomposed bits and pieces of plastics that are collectively called micro-plastics. The fallacy behind the term “biodegradable plastic bag” is clearly seen in the tissues and blood streams of marine organisms. These materials are only “biodegradable” in the sense that they can be broken up into ever-smaller bits of plastic, and seem to disappear, when instead they are being converted from a single unsightly bag of nuisance into millions of tiny plastic particles with as-yet unknown ecosystem impacts.

It’s understandable—in a crisis like the pandemic, all norms are abandoned, including habits of riding the bus, recycling and prioritizing low waste food, all while mountains of Amazon delivery cardboard piles up in the garage. But let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Transit systems are absolutely essential to many of our most vital economic centers; they are essential to people too poor to own cars; they are an essential part of the solution to climate change. Transit cannot be a casualty of COVID. There has to be ongoing federal relief distributed based on need, and a long term commitment to robust public transit. Reduction in single use plastics and recycling what we do produce must increase if we are to deal with the filling up of our oceans and bodies with plastic waste.

Moreover, these practices, and indeed the pandemic itself, are inextricably linked to climate change. The destruction of wildlands, by deliberate deforestation to support animal agriculture or resource extraction or by the droughts, floods, temperature shifts and wildfires resulting from climate change, are forcing wild animals into greater contact with humans, thus enabling the spread of viruses like COVID-19. Perhaps climate change awareness and response can provide the roadmap to refocusing our priorities at the local and global levels.

With climate change, some people choose to avoid flying and stop commuting to work via a personal automobile to lessen their personal carbon footprint. It makes some difference—you are saving a small amount of carbon, you are setting an example for others and sending signals to the market, and it helps us feel that we are contributing to the solution. But consider this—with the recent complete shutdown of the global economy, which effectively meant that none of us were flying or commuting to work, how much were our carbon emissions reduced by? Only 17 percent, and that is with nearly everyone committing to these personal actions because they had no choice otherwise. What this means is that 83 percent of our carbon emissions are systemic, built into power generation, large-scale transport of goods, deforestation, industrial production, and other processes. And emissions have ramped back up again as some areas have recovered, with the final 2020 emissions projected at only 5 percent below 2019. While the levers to control carbon emissions are beyond an individual’s ability to pull, they are not beyond a collection of individuals, and this where community actions can make a difference in climate as well as waste, public transportation, and so many other areas.

Much like the systemic issues that drive climate change, we need to come to terms with the systemic issues that throw up obstacles to achieving more sustainability. Perhaps the global disruption of the pandemic will help us leapfrog to a new normal. By spending time in a simpler mode, often with family, cooking meals at home, walking the neighborhood streets (at a distance, of course!), growing food for the first time, and dearly missing the connections with our fellow humans, perhaps we are arming ourselves with a new understanding of values. As stated by Rahm Emanuel, former Mayor of Chicago, “Never let a serious crisis go to waste. And what I mean by that is it's an opportunity to do things you think you could not do before.” We can, and should, not just build back, but build back better.