The disconnect between the wealthy writers, readership, and editors of the New York Times and the blue-collar American is generally obvious but still occasionally unbelievable. The most recent example of this bemusing oversight is the Times‘ discovery of refillable cleaning supplies — which the publication lauds for having environmental benefits superior to the single-use spray bottle.
Susan Shain writes:
Today, the pressure to reduce corporate carbon footprints is forcing a second look at all that plastic packaging. “Reuse, for some types of products and packaging,” Mr. Prindiville said, “can put a huge dent in reducing those climate impacts.”
Household cleaners seem particularly primed for a refill revolution. Whereas shampoo and conditioner involve complicated chemical formulas, many cleaners can be easily concentrated and reconstituted with water. In fact, that’s what makes up the bulk of traditional cleaning products, leading Mr. Prindiville to describe the current system this way: “We’re just shipping around water. And that’s dumb.”
In contrast, the concentrated surface cleaners sold by Grove Collaborative each contain 1 ounce of liquid, far less than a standard 16-ounce bottle of ready-to-use cleaner, and thus require less fuel to transport. Grove’s spray bottles are meant to be reused, and its concentrates are packaged in glass or aluminum — materials that, unlike plastic, can be recycled over and over.
Every Midwestern grandma is shaking her head at the foolishness, having maintained a pantry full of cleaning concentrates such as vinegar, Pine-Sol, Fabuloso, and bleach for the past 50 years.
That the Times then suggests a concentrate product that sounds like a Berkeley cult, the Grove Collaborative, is hilariously on-brand. If I’m getting my math correct, Grove Collaborative costs 25 cents per ounce of mixed cleaning solution (32 fl. oz. for $7.99), while Pine-Sol costs half a cent per ounce of mixed cleaning solution (3,840 fl. oz. for $15.53). The bulk of the buying public is not shopping around for bespoke refillable cleaners; they’re shopping for stuff that’ll get the mud off the linoleum and the oil out of a work shirt.
I look forward to the report about artisan leftover containers. I’ll read that while eating two-day-old hotdish out of a Cool Whip tub.