On the label of an old painting, I came across a word we rarely see: “stooks,” meaning erect bindings of wheat or other sheaves dotting a field, ready for transport to granaries or ranches. You still see bales of newly cut hay spread over farm fields, but today they’re encased in massive wraps of plastic. How much of this packaging, on how many millions of acres of Plastic Prairie, is added to the world’s nonbiodegradable waste load every year? According to Statistica.com, the volume has reached eight billion metric tons.
Plastic, says oceanographer Charles Moore, is a worse threat to life on Earth than is climate change. And we don’t only have “Plastic Prairies” to worry about; the household garden, too, has become plasticized. We gardeners could do more to reject these products of the petrochemical industry in our own plots, but, judging from the volume of plastic goods being bought at garden supply store, “Home Hardware” has become Home Plasticware.
When was the last time you lifted a watering can that was actually a can? A “can” is a metal thing, but metal is scarce in most suburban gardens. Hoses used to hang on curved metal brackets, and chicken wire was actual wire. Walls were once made of the stones dug out of the cleared forest soil by homesteaders. Tool handles were made of wood, not rubbery plastic whose grip we have been persuaded we prefer. Gripping handles of wood creates a kinship with the early pioneers who fashioned tools from hand-hewn branches, but many young gardeners have probably never in their lives held a tool with a wooden handle.
Look around the garden supply centre next time you visit, and notice that not only are seedlings sold in plastic pots, but large plastic bins are sold as permanent plant containers. Patio “paving” is made of rubbery plastic mats and rose starter roots are sold in sock-like plastic bags. Even rakes have lost the long flexible metal fingers that delicately gathered up fall leaves; now the rake head is made of polyethylene.
Even the iconic “Adirondack” chair, is sold in a hard plastic form instead of its traditional wood. Designed in the early twentieth century by Thomas Lee of Massachusetts, the teak Adirondack chair with its wide arm rests and a sloping slatted back was meant for resting on after a day of digging, leaning back to enjoy the sunset after a hard day’s work. Somehow, you can’t rest properly on acrylic and sealants. A sunset doesn’t look the same from a plastic chair. Fanciful? Maybe. Much of what occurs in the horticultural world is fanciful and romantic.
We have been persuaded that plastic “weathers” better than wood, but that’s a misapprehension. It lasts for millions of years, yes, but only as garbage. It soon looks shabby, becoming stained, cracked and moldy years sooner than does cedar, hemlock or willow. Then it goes to the landfill, and from there as shards and chunks into rivers and oceans where the chunks may look to turtles and albatrosses like food.
“Poly” say the product labels, which may mean polyethylene, polyurethane, or the polypropylene-fiber which ends up in tap water, and in our garden hoses, with which we water our vegetables. I may be stepping on some latex-gumbooted toes here, but the popularity of “polytunnels” seems particularly disturbing. Yes, these transparent thermoplastic polyacrylates do allow for year-round gardening with controlled temperature and light, but so does the old-fashioned glass greenhouse, that iconic artistic Victorian-Edwardian staple found both on landscapes and in literature. (Apparently the first greenhouse appeared at Oxford University’s Botanic Gardens in 1637.)
The UN (www.unep.org) says there could be more plastic than fish in the oceans by 2050. That’s because, according to National Geographic, 91% of plastic is never recycled. That means that we gardeners (like consumers and businesses of all sorts) need to reject it at its sources. Once manufactured, it’s eternal. So now, at the garden supply centre, I ask where the “natural products section” is. (Sometimes I get puzzled looks.)
For centuries the great horticulturalists, from Capability Brown to Gertrude Jekyll, managed brilliantly with natural-fiber seed pots, rubber hoses, wooden birdfeeders and biodegradable twine—and their metal tools were robust enough to be passed down for generations. It’s time to bring these out of the museums and back to the household garden.
Well said. The horticultural definitely needs to get with the times and stop using plastic. Higher quality plastic can have a place, if cared for it lasts decades, but most is cheap and meant to be disposable. If you have plastic, care for it to extend it’s llfe, reuse it where possible and don’t accumulate more.
“We gardeners could do more to reject these products of the petrochemical industry in our own plots…”, which doesn’t address the fact that gardening can be an expensive hobby and plastic goods are far cheaper than other materials, reducing the cost of entry or continuance. They are also much lighter to transport and carry, which is not only why people buy them but why stores stock them, sometimes in large excess to goods of other materials (and they are so cheap that a store can realize a higher profit margin even without a large markup).
All true and written by someone who doesn’t know what it is like to be disabled by extensive arthritis of the back or who doesn’t have the money, as Jekyll did, to hire a stout backed English gardener.
Your article should acknowledge people whose bodies simply cannot garden with heavy wood and steel implements, I have a 30 year old Smith and Hawken spade and fork that I’ll gladly pass on to my daughter, which will fulfill one criteria of your “moral gardening” treatise. Meanwhile, I’ll look for the lightest, strongest, most ergonomically efficient tools so I can garden until my death. I also garden on my butt and belly. Whatever it takes. What I don’t need is moralizing from someone who ignores the reality that many others live with. All it would have taken is one sentence acknowledging that there’s reasons besides ignorance for using lightweight tools.
Thank you so much for this important reminder. I have been “pretty good” in sticking with natural materials in my garden, but lately, as I approach retirement, I have been looking around the garden for ways to reduce labor and I was contemplating replacing my wooden outdoor furniture, which requires annual staining and other maintenance, with plastic or metal (though even metal furniture often includes plastic). I will seriously reconsider the options.
Well written. Thank you for your reminder on ways we gardeners can contribute.
As an avid gardener for decades who is now struggling with assorted orthopedic challenges I found this article to be clueless to the needs of those with a disability. I loved my galvanized (and very heavy) watering can and wheelbarrow when I could lift it. Now I’m thankful for lightweight plastic. My plastic Adirondack chairs easily winter in the garage. I use bamboo stakes, twine, cotton gloves, and other supplies made of natural materials when I can. No thanks to the guilt trip implied in this article.
I read absolutely zero guilt tripping in this article. For me, it’s just a reminder that I must keep being thoughtful about how I garden, to maximize life and minimizing harm.
As someone older myself who wants to keep gardening despite a growing number of physical limitations, I appreciate that lightweight tools can be helpful. But they are poorer for developing & maintaining strength and endurance – though I do have to rest a lot more often than I used to, and am cutting back on the size & type of my gardens.
I agree with the reality that plastics – which are, let’s admit it, helping to wreck our planet’s current ecosystem, from extraction to production to marketing to disposal – are hard to avoid in our culture. (I have multiple tarps, watering cans, hoses and a lifetime supply of plastic pots).
I find it very reasonable, not ‘quilt tripping’, to make every effort to acquire mostly used plastic garden stuff & reuse it as long as possible before discarding it. Perfect? Of course not, but imperfection is our lot in life. Plastics exist. I refuse to accuse Sandra of trying to ‘make me feel guilty’ by simply pointing out the ubiquity and problems with plastics in the garden, and that we choose the tools we use.
The good/ironic news about plastics is that we humans are, collectively, doubtless providing the basis for Eaarth’s next (non-Anthropocine) biological era even as we contribute to the extinction of so many beloved plants, animal, insect, fungal etc species that we humans have co-evolved with. Already bacteria, probably viruses and more are starting to metabolize plastics, just like we eat cows and zucchini. Who knows what ecosystem they’ll evolve into?
As Kurt Vonagut liked to say, “And so it goes.” Speaking of going, I’ve rested up enough from greenhouse clean up, so it’s time to go water my garden. With a plastic hose.
Thank you, Wynne. I agree, Sandra was not trying to guilt trip, but to inform and encourage us to be more mindful when we buy for the garden. Yes, I’m 70, have arthritis and back problems but that doesn’t mean I can’t try to do better.
Jean
I do have a share in the plastic garden, but I have actively sought to not increase it. My two watering cans are metal – one from Ace Hardware, the other from a local nursery. My tools are metal and wood. For the most part, my flower pots are ceramic, terracotta, cement/hypertufa. A few large ones that get dragged hither and yon with the seasons are plastic/poly because the weight of the soil and plants are more than enough to break my back.
But, living in dry-and-getting-drier California, I have to have irrigation. And irrigation arrives via plastic, especially drip irrigation. And the best I can do about plastic nursery pots is to return them to the local nurseries that I know will re-use them into oblivion, because the other answer would be to never buy plants. I do want Adirondack chairs for my back yard, yes, but I’m holding out until I can afford the sturdy, long-lasting wood ones. The plastic ones are a no-go for all the reasons listed. I do have a plastic hose reel, but I’ve had it for 30 years so far & plan to keep it for 30 more if I can.
Long story short – I do what I can to eliminate plastic, but sometimes it is unavoidable.
let’s just keep doing the best we can
Amen. I have scoliosis (curvature of the spine) that was never braced but should have been, and I’ve had a hip replacement. I also have arthritis. My husband was a blind gardener so I feel somewhat qualified to address gardening with disabilities. Yes, plastic is lighter, but there are ways around it. Think of recycling. I have watered my potted plants for the last 3 years using empty plastic detergent bottles and yogurt containers. I make my own powdered detergent so I no longer buy plastic detergent bottles, but the two I saved are still going strong. You can also buy light weight aluminum gardening hand tools that have ergonomic rubber handles. It’s also possible to purchase rubber, not vinyl or plastic, hoses although they cost more. If anyone gardens frugally, it’s me. If items cost more than their plastic alternatives, there are ways to save money in other gardening areas to make up for it. Instead of buying plastic bagged fertilizer, how about making weed tea or growing comfrey to make fertilizer? Compost. I also make my own potting soil. All of this saves money that can be spent on other things. Return your black plastic pots to the Big Box stores who at least say they will recycle them.
From the standpoint of beauty, I feel plastic is butt-ugly. I try hard not to use it in my garden, but I’m not perfect. Maybe we can’t get rid of all plastic, but we can at least make an effort (disability or no disability).
Again, think recycling: I picked up two gorgeous outdoor wood chairs and a lightweight aluminum chair from the side of the road that simply needed an allan wrench to tighten them. Free. No plastic. I used the wood chairs for 7 years until they finally succumbed to the weather. I go to a local auction where they often have lightweight metal chairs at a reasonable cost.
Let’s differentiate between plastics that are used over and over and at at the very least, eliminate single-use plastics in our lives.
I agree that much of the plastic stuff on offer isn’t pretty or durable;for that reason I avoid it where possible and reuse when I can’t afford the alternative. In UK,one infuriating problem is that although black plastic pots can be recycled,automated sorting can’t pick it out and where I live,my nearest store that recycles is 25miles away. I avoid going there because I believe my garden shouldn’t add to my carbon footprint. As a result those pots and trays,even reused,soon mount up.I wish that garden centres would offer fibre pots for transit home.
Thanks for a timely article which has prompted interesting responses. Of course I sympathise with those who truly need lightweight tools, and I’m glad they’re available, but gardeners should be first in line to find ways of doing without plastic.
Thanks Lois and other commenters. I sympathise too with gardeners struggling with disabilities. I hope the professional gardening companies, who buy equipment in large volumes, consider the impacts of choosing non-biodegradable or non-LONG-reusable goods. It’s amazing how after thousands of years of humanity farming and tilling soil, the health of the planet has been completely changed by a product invented in only the past 70 years. Sandra Julian.
It’s not just the garden industry that needs to do better! Plastics are insidious.
Absolutely agree, Robin. They are everywhere (— car bumpers?! Seriously?) and we must fight back by reducing our consumption of them. And indeed, as several commenters have said, use them for much-longer times.
Style and fashion be damned!
Reduce, reuse, recycle!
This article seems to give a lot of people strong feelings! It’s hard being told we’re doing something wrong–even though everyone can agree that, worldwide, there’s too much plastic ending up in the wrong place. One can spend a lot of time trying to eliminate every bit of plastic in your life and still not succeed–it’s that ubiquitous. At some point the effort isn’t worth the result, in my opinion.
(And I tried pressed-paper pots for starting seeds and they all grew white mold! So I’m washing and reusing my plastic pots for seed starting for multiple years.)
What drives me a little crazy is the line “Then it goes to the landfill, and from there as shards and chunks into rivers and oceans.” Shouldn’t trash that’s sent to an actual landfill be properly buried and contained? So well-contained that the organics never decompose, even?
A quick Google search found me a great article showing that the US only accounts for 4.5% of plastic ending up in the ocean; most is from the Philippines. It was really interesting and backed by good sources. I highly recommend reading through it here:
Properly disposed of plastic in rich countries with good landfills (that’s us!) usually doesn’t end up even in local waterways. And almost never in the ocean. So don’t feel guilty about your necessary buying and careful disposal of some plastic! It’s not the main problem.
What can we do to help the plastic-in-nature problem locally? (My sense is that this is from littering and not landfills, but I have no proof.) Because, just speaking of my own local creeks and rivers, this is a problem that does harm the local ecosystem and wildlife. If you feel guilty about plastic and you’re able-bodied, consider volunteering with a local group to gather plastic out of wild areas and dispose of it properly. Or do it on your own. If you’re not able to volunteer yourself, consider donating to a local group that does so as your budget allows.
Oh hey, and if you’re interested in the problem of US landfills, reducing waste overall (including single waste plastics) is one of the things listed in this article from the University of Colorado:
Good point Summercloud, I too read that most of Earth’s 8 billion metric tons comes from underdeveloped countries. But we can only do what we can where we are.
A large amount also comes from the worldwide fishing industry. We on the west coast of BC, Canada, had mountains of plastic, Styrofoam etc. recently hoisted by helicopter from remote beaches — it had come all the way across the Pacific from Japan for years after an earthquake. And then where can it go? A lot to bury! I think the only hope (other than not manufacturing the stuff) is in plastic-consuming bacteria that some labs are trying to develop. Let’s hope ..
“Somehow, you can’t rest properly on acrylic and sealants. A sunset doesn’t look the same from a plastic chair.”
Truer words were never written.
I love wooden handles on tools! And, I dislike plastics intensely.