Recycling--Sorting Fact From Fiction

The following appeared as a column in the July 31 Princeton Packet, with the title "Sorting out the recyclables issue".

This past January, I wrote a column for the Packet about the disparity between what Princeton residents are told to put in the yellow and green recycling buckets, and what is accepted at the sorting plant that takes our recyclables. Mercer County, which runs Princeton’s curbside recycling program, excludes plastics #3-7, empty aerosol cans, and aluminum trays and foil from its list of accepted recyclables, even though the sorting plant accepts them. It was interesting that items I had long thought to be contaminants in the recycling stream were actually getting separated out and successfully marketed by the plant.

Much to my surprise, the column set off quite a controversy. Should these additional items be added to the county’s official list? Since many Princeton residents, from my observations, ignore the list and fill the buckets with whatever they think looks recyclable, the controversy was limited to the subset of humanity that is actually trying to do the right thing.

The discussion quickly became contaminated with dubious claims, demonstrating again the power of misinformation to needlessly polarize our world, locally and nationally. Truth has become devalued as just another opinion. People can claim whatever they want, and needn’t feel regret if the claim has no basis in fact.

As the plot thickened into a gumbo of mumbo jumbo, I decided to research the matter further, culminating in a trip to the Colgate sorting facility 12 miles up the road in New Brunswick, where our curbside recyclables are taken. Recycling, with its ever-changing markets and rapidly evolving sorting technology, provides an excellent training ground for developing humility, flexibility and detachment when seeking the truth. The path from uncertainty to relative certainty requires conversations with many sources, and what’s true now could always change later on.

Many municipalities and counties in the area accept all plastics #1-7 for recycling. Among these are Philadelphia, Newark, Montgomery, and Somerset. Morris County excludes #3 and 6, but includes the others. Though of lesser value than plastics #1 and 2, the 3-7 plastics do find markets, often overseas. Concern has been expressed about whether the plastics 3-7, most of which go to China or India, are being used in environmentally unfriendly ways. It’s nearly impossible to know. Given a global economy, neither Princeton nor Mercer County has any control over where its recyclables go, and destinations can shift with the markets. Since many other recyclables also go overseas, any concern about end usage would render much of our current recycling stream suspect.

After being sorted, our recyclables are sold to the highest bidder. Some 60% of recyclables in our region head overseas, often on ships that would otherwise be returning empty to their home ports. That cardboard you put out on the curb may be headed to China, where paper plants that are newer and more sophisticated than ours will make it into new boxes to fill with more stuff for us to buy. If more plastics #3-7 are collected, businesses closer to home might be more motivated to utilize it.

At the sorting plant in New Brunswick, our recyclables head up a conveyor belt into a cavernous enclosure filled with sophisticated sorting technology. Spinning wheels lift cardboard out of the mix, while smaller items fall through the gaps. Elsewhere along the way, magnets pull out tin cans and aerosol cans, which get baled together. When the recyclables pass over a roller energized to create an "eddy current", aluminum is repelled, rising upward and onto its own conveyor belt. Aluminum cans fetch the highest price, and may show up in the store as new cans in as little as 60 days.

Another sorting mechanism has 19 tiny air jets, each with a sensor that can recognize PET plastic (#1) in the recycling stream, triggering a micro-blast of air that pops the PET plastic out of the mix faster than you can say "PolyEthylene Terephthalate." Some materials, like large plastics and aluminum trays, are still hand sorted.

When asked what contaminants cause problems at the plant, the Colgate staff mentioned plastic bags and metal bars like crowbars, both of which can gum up the sorting equipment. Wet paper tends to drop down through the sorters and end up in the trash--one of a number of arguments for eventually replacing our yellow and green buckets with rollout bins with covers.

There are a number of changes that would make curbside recycling work better. One would be a regulatory expectation that manufacturers produce products and packaging that are easily recycled. Another would be to eventually replace the county’s yellow and green buckets, which tip over in the wind, roll out onto the street, and let the rain in. Rollout bins with attached lids are the industry standard.

Another important step will be the composting of food waste. Backyard composting is much easier than people think, and Princeton’s alternative curbside collection of foodwaste has gotten good reviews. Many trash cans in public places are stuffed with paper products that should be getting composted with the foodwaste rather than landfilled.

If all of this comes to pass--if manufacturers take more responsibility, if trash can be freed of foodwaste, and as sorting technology continues to improve--it is conceivable we may reach a point where the distinction between trash and recyclables will largely dissolve, and all of our discards outside of electronics and toxics will merge into one stream headed to a plant for sorting.