Canadian governments, like many around the world, are once again in the grip of toxic plastic-phobia: an irrational and potentially harmful fear of plastics.
Proposals to ban “single-use” plastics (under varying definitions) are all the rage across Canada, where the plastic-phobes, like locusts, have re-emerged from the obscurity imposed on them by the imminent spectre of mass viral death.
Plastic-phobia is irrational because any sane person would understand that it’s a non-problem, particularly in Canada.
Even according to Oceana, a group dedicated to plastic waste elimination, 86 per cent of Canada’s plastic waste ends up in a landfill (where it’s not hurting anything), another nine per cent is recycled, and only about one per cent of the rest ends up as litter. That’s a 99 per cent rate of hygienic handling of plastic materials. This is the very definition of a non-problem. To obsess about this is the definition of irrationality.
On the other hand, virtually everything we use to protect human health involves plastics, because poor hygiene kills. And those single-use products that the plastic-phobes disdain serve a vast array of hygienic functions. Single-use plastics brought us those sanitary wipes we hoarded when gripped by first-wave COVID-19 terrors, the plastic bottles that held our hand sanitizer, the plastic wands used to test us for COVID, the plastic gloves worn by our first responders and medical professionals, the plastic IV bags they hook us up to in hospital and the tubing as well.
Plastics bring us the very insulation around the wires that make all the hospital machines work, and they bring us the materials in the medical masks that people are still being nagging us to wear today between hasty sips of our latte.
Single-use plastics delivered the serum used to vaccinate us, the syringes we were vaccinated with, and the materials used to make, package, transport and ship those vaccines to our arms.
If you’re in the hospital, you’re virtually encased in plastic. Want to share your water cup with your neighbouring ward mate? Maybe hand them over a used teaspoon of your gelatin or take one of theirs?
No, I didn’t think so.
The war against plastics, single-use plastics, multi-use plastics and even recycled plastics (which are no longer considered environmentally benign because, of course, climate change) is crazy.
Of course, there’s another potential explanation for the fixation on plastics: that the war on plastics is insincere, that anti-plastic activists and politicians don’t care about plastics, they’re actually against people having a lifestyle rich in the material goods that make for a comfortable and healthy life.
I’m not sure which irrational motivation is worse. I’d prefer to assume that people are simply irrational in their plastic-phobia, rather than anti-humanist, but it’s regrettably hard to tell in today’s political climate of fear.
They say it’s not helpful to tell someone who’s in the grip of an irrational fear to stop gibbering and think but, at a certain point, that’s an obligation of rational people in their self-defence. And that time is now.
When it comes to plastic bans, people need to ring up their politicians and say, “it’s time to stop your insane gibbering about my damn soda straws, my plastic forks, my hygienic wipes, the cling wrap that keeps my food sanitary, and the plastic bag I pack my kid’s lunch in and focus on things that will actually make the world a better place. Keep your grubby hands off my sanitary plastics.”
Ken Green is a senior fellow at the Frontier Centre for Public Policy.
© Troy Media
Troy Media is an editorial content provider to media outlets and its own hosted community news outlets across Canada.