Whenever I get the chance, I try to encourage people to recycle. I have always been a proponent of conservation efforts and, because I know it may not be a high priority for most people, I find that it’s an easy way to give a quick reminder about the protection of our planet.
Despite my awareness of the general apathy toward the environment, I continue to be shocked at the amount of people who tell me they have never recycled, not a single time.
I try not to push it, but I always express my surprise, show some confusion, and spout off a few pointers and facts just in case they decide to throw a soda can in a recycling bin at some point in the future.
Usually, people brush it off as if it means nothing to them. We change the subject and move along with whatever conversation was already happening.
Sometimes I receive a response that seems to convey boasting in the inactivity of recycling. Those people tell me that they have never seen the point, that it causes them inconvenience. Occasionally, I will encounter someone who feels inclined to prove to me that recycling causes more harm than good and that they would rather not “waste the water” of rinsing out containers.
If it just so happens to be my lucky day, however, I will have raised a fun topic for someone who truly prides the fact that they do not give a flying flip about the environment and I’ll get my favorite response of all: “I don’t care if my grandchildren never see a polar bear.”
I have tested multiple strategies in response to this quip, although I am unsure if any of them have really made a difference. I have found it difficult to explain in a casual conversation why that excuse is uninformed, inconsiderate, and wrong on multiple levels, especially with people I may not know very well.
I contribute most of this difficulty to the various directions this dispute can take, whether they (do or do not) care most about the physical Earth’s wellbeing, animal distinction, economies and their advancements, or humanity in general.
For anyone who has ever heard this phrase and would like a viable response for next time, you have clicked on just the right link. For readers who have, themselves, muttered this statement, I urge you to read the following facts and commentary with special attention.
First of all, the polar bear is one of the lucky ones. Humans noticed that polar bears were disappearing at alarming rates and took action, leading to results in recent studies showing a comeback of the polar bear populations (at least in areas scientists can monitor them).
As for the rest of the world’s species of animals and plants, 40% have not fared as well and are currently at risk of becoming extinct. Today, 9,794 species are endangered, with almost half of those considered “critically endangered.” While there are a multitude of criteria that can put a species on that list, it is important to note that some exist in that capacity with the additional tagline: possibly extinct. There are so many endangered species of plants and animals on our planet that scientists are unable to count the remaining population of one before another disappears.
So actually, your grandchildren might have a chance at seeing a polar bear, just not an orangutan or a Beluga whale or any of the tiger species. That is, of course, if they have the luxury of spending their days doing anything other than trying to find water.
Right now, only 1 in 10 people lack access to safe drinking water. I say "only” because it is estimated that two-thirds of the world’s population will live in water-stressed regions by 2025 and 1.8 billion people will experience water scarcity in their daily lives.
Just to be clear: that is less than 9 years from today. That is a majority of the world experiencing thirst on a regular basis, either in their own lives or in the lives of those around them.
Oh, and we will also have another billion mouths to feed by 2025, the agricultural water requirement of which will be the equivalent of 100 Colorado Rivers’ annual flows, not to mention drinking water, sanitation, production of goods, transportation, and bathing on occasion.
In January 2015 the World Economic Forum announced that the water crisis is the #1 global risk based on its projected devastation to society compared to every single other possibility of risk on the planet. In 2016, however, “failure of climate change mitigation and adaption” took its place. Either way, environmental issues beat out all others in human impact (the list includes weapons of mass destruction, fiscal crises, large-scale involuntary migration, and severe energy price shock, in case you were wondering).
But how do we get out of a water crisis that projects such devastating outcomes? How do we reduce our water consumption without making ourselves absolutely miserable?
Well, we can start by recycling. According to Waste Management, recycling aluminum takes 95% less energy than making it from raw materials, including rinsing items out if needed. Recycling one ton of paper saves 7,000 gallons of water and 17 trees, and one ton of recycled newsprint saves 71 gallons of oil and another 7,000 gallons of water. Additionally, producing recycled paper creates 35% less water pollution than paper from raw materials.
Moreover, recycling means less waste going to sit in a landfill, less methane released when the sun bakes that landfill, and less gross trash juice seeping into our - you guessed it - water supply. See how that works?
Recycling is no longer some hippie thing that tree huggers do to try and save the planet, it is a necessity. Every little action to save water or natural resources or to reduce the amount of pollution released makes a difference, however small.
Americans are blessed to have access to (theoretically) unlimited resources, but literal billions of people across the globe are not so fortunate, and we are not far behind. We have treated our planet as an endless community resource, and the global community is about to feel the consequences – as a whole. Thirst does not see borders between countries, it does not care about economic status. The world has an extremely limited amount of water left and once it’s gone, it’s not coming back.