In their Aug. 15 Blowback, L.A. County Supervisors Yvonne B. Burke and Zev Yaroslavsky argue that consumers should be charged a 25-cent tax for each plastic bag they use. The Times of London wrote in a March 8 editorial, “Many of those who have demonized plastic bags have enlisted scientific study to their cause. By exaggerating a grain of truth into a larger falsehood they spread misinformation, and abuse the trust of their unwitting audiences.”

Regrettably, the supervisors are doing precisely what The Times warned against — spreading misinformation. Burke and Yaroslavsky assert that “about $375 million each year is spent in California on cleanups and other efforts to mitigate the environmental effect of disposable bags, costing each household about $200.” Nearly 37 million people live in California, and $375 million divided by 37 million is $10.14. Are we to assume that each household has 20 people? Burke and Yaroslavsky do not state how the $375-million figure is calculated, but it is apparently the entire California litter cleanup budget — for everything. Why do they pin the entire state litter cleanup budget on plastic bags?

See, this is a bit of a bummer to hear. Do we not already have approximately a million reasons to put a limit on plastic bags? Why fudge the numbers? The plastic bag thrall is looking for any reason at all to discredit our mission as trivial and unreasonable, and we don’t do ourselves any favors by helping them out with exaggerations.

Not that this article is spotless, either — and of course, why would it be, when it’s written by our good pal Stephen L. Joseph? It’s full of all the same tired old ad hominem attacks, straw man fallacies, false dichotomies, and even subtly links reusable bag champions to… communism?!

Burke and Yaroslavsky criticize plastic-bag manufacturers for trying to “protect their profits.” There’s no shame in that; this is not the old Soviet Union.

Oh, well okay. So the point of this is most certainly not that the LA Times article is right — it’s just that, perhaps from now on, we need to choose our words much more carefully and stick to the hard and fast facts. The opposition makes up enough nonsense reasons to counter us every day. Let’s not help them by giving them real ones.

FALSE DICHOTOMY (n.) — A fallacy committed when the arguer claims that his conclusion is one of only two options, when in fact there are other possibilities. The arguer then goes on to show that the ‘only other option’ is clearly outrageous, and so his preferred conclusion must be embraced.

In contrast to yesterday’s update, some members of Riverside County are not too keen on speeding up any plastic bag reduction proposals in California (specifically the ban currently being proposed in Palm Springs). A few writers have at least switched tactics to attacking the price and recycling potential of reusable bags, but Riverside Press-Enterprise columnist Bob Pratte has apparently decided to keep things old-school with the false dichotomy: reducing plastic bag production must be outrageous because paper bags are worse.

I think plastic bags have been badly maligned. True, they take precious petroleum to produce, foul waterways and snag wild creatures, but their paper cousins have faults too. Heavy equipment used to log trees burns fuel. Paper plants create stinky pollution.

Not just any pollution, my friends: stinky pollution! Actually I suppose that would be a great point if anyone had happened to be arguing in favor of some sort of paper bag revolution, instead of trying to reduce pollution in various forms and just going after the most obvious and prevalent first? Who knows. Anyway, Pratte throws in a couple of paragraphs about donating food to the poor and homeless in plastic bags for good measure, but overall he seemed the most concerned about fitting in a mention that BOB PRATTE JUST BOUGHT A TOTALLY SWEET SAILBOAT.

Most importantly, plastic bags play a vital role on Mango Mango, our Corona-built sailboat that I bought from someone who won her on the “Price is Right.” The bags on board make handy receptacles for empty plastic water bottles and soft-drink and beer cans (but never glass bottles on a boat). I stow dozens of bags in a handy, long cloth tube with its openings at both ends cinched with elastic.

Before I cast off the dock lines, I hang a bag inside the cabin. When I return to the dock, I carry the bag up to a recycling container and dump in the cans and empty water bottles. If they’re not too mucky, I reuse the bags again.

Plastic bags help me recycle. They can be reused, unlike fragile paper bags. Instead of banning plastic bags, the city of Palm Springs should encourage their use — over and over and over.

Oh hey, bro! I was totally behind pollution reduction laws, but that was before I knew that plastic bags play a vital role on Mango Mango! How could we all have been so blind? Obviously, what with payments on your bitchen sailboat and all, you wouldn’t have any money left over to pick up the slack with garbage bags as needed (and no, the waste does NOT come out equal, let’s nip that argument in the bud) or, better still, cloth duffel bags that can be emptied and — wait for it — washed for reuse? (Because, seriously: how many times can a disposable plastic bag be reused before its inevitable stretching and tearing death? Twice? Three times? And, of course, that’s barring “muckiness.”) No, if Mango Mango demands plastic bags, then plastic bags are what Mango Mango shall have, and anything short would be an affront to Bob Barker. I’m glad that’s all cleared up, what a relief.

Wait, no. That is ridiculous and a horrible conclusion. Mr. Platte, I do concur that a solution should be found for passing out food at food banks and homeless shelters (a BETTER solution, but still). That said, perhaps making that the focus of your article, rather than an afterthought, might have had more profound impact toward making your point than building your centerpiece around Mango Mango. Although, congratulations on your sailboat, I guess. I’m sure it’s a pretty tasty boat. Next time, post pictures.

Photo via Flickr!

When it comes to new ideas in the world of the disposable shopping bag, innovation is crucial — that is to say, new ideas on how to reduce energy expenditure or waste is about as favorable as you can get. So can somebody please tell IBM that this is not what we had in mind?

On Tuesday, IBM was granted US Patent No. 7,407,089 for storing a preference for paper or plastic grocery bags on customer cards and displaying a picture of said preference after a card is scanned. The invention, Big Blue explains, eliminates the ‘unnecessary inconvenience for both the customer and the cashier’ that results when ‘Paper or Plastic?’ must be asked. The patent claims also cover affixing a cute sticker of a paper or plastic bag to a customer card to indicate packaging preferences.

Hmm. Obviously glaring is that, once again, the idea forces in the false-dichotomy of “paper-or-plastic.” But even beyond that: I realize that social anxiety disorder is more of a pressing concern than ever these days, but what does that say about our society when the simple, split-second human interaction of voicing a preference is seen as enough of a nuisance that we must find technology to eliminate it? Does it really kill us to have to mention where we would like our groceries stored for transfer? Second, what about the sticker on the customer card? Would it just be affixed to your standard Ralphs or Vons or whatever member discount card, or would you need your own customer card simply for travel-toting preferences? Even just the manufacturing of the cute preference stickers alone seems egregiously wasteful, to say nothing of if a whole new plastic card were required.

There’s no need to get too up in arms yet — it’s merely a patent at this stage, and not every patent winds up in production. That said, it still feels like a grand waste of time and resources to have had the patent produced. Do we not have better things to think about and research than a question that seems to grow less and less relevant every day? I should really hope so.

No, I jest. That would be rude. But seriously, homeboy here does have some issues.

This gentleman is Stephen L. Joseph, head of the controversial Save the Plastic Bag campaign and the focus of a recent article in Time Magazine. An attorney with a history behind him of fighting graffiti and litter and waging all-out war against trans-fats, he has mystifyingly turned his sites toward the uphill battle that is preserving the rights of the disposable plastic bag.

The former Washington lobbyist, who was born in England and reluctantly gives his age as 50-something, admits it’s an uphill battle trying to improve the image of a throwaway item that has been tied to everything from global warming to dependence on oil and the death of marine life. Especially in California. Particularly in ultra-liberal Marin County. It took him more than a year after the bag manufacturers came calling to take on the cause. “It’s very challenging to counter the myths and misinformation,” he says from his Tiburon, Calif., law offices. “I’m a one-man show.”

Joseph’s Save the Plastic Bag website is extremely comprehensive, with page after page in defense of the plastic bag, or at least in defense of the plastic bag not being quite as bad as its alternatives. This is where Joseph really shines with the prowess of a defense attorney in court, battling for his team at the expense of sound argument.

How can a former anti-litter activist support plastic bags? Joseph points out, and some environmentalists agree, that in many ways paper bags are just as bad for the environment as plastic ones. While paper bags decompose, they also release methane while doing so. While plastic bags are sometimes made with petrochemicals, paper bags require more energy to be made and recycled. The evidence that plastic bags kill marine life is not conclusive, and it’s generally acknowledged that the detritus from commercial fishing is much more damaging. “My research into this issue has proved to me that something funny is going on,” says Joseph. “The anti-plastic-bag campaigners are not being challenged. It’s like a court case where nobody’s representing the other side.”

Well, that is a beautiful tu quoque defense which basically amounts to, “yes, perhaps we’re bad, but we are not as bad as the other guys!” Should we be jumping with joy because plastic bags don’t harbor cockroaches? Maybe we should, because cockroaches are abhorrent, but any environmental activist worth their salt will tell you that paper bags are far from a satisfactory solution. When a practical solution is mentioned, Joseph’s arguments start to crack at the seams.

Against the use of cloth shopping bags, however, or the string type his grandmother might have taken to the high street, Joseph has fewer arguments. Plastic bags make handy trash-can liners, he says, or receptacles for cat litter. And, of course, they can be reused to hold shopping. “Do you know what I think is the best thing about them? You can shove about 12 of them in your glove compartment.”

Ah yes, there it is. Back to the old “cat litter” argument. And of course, plastic bags can be reused for shopping… once or twice, if they haven’t torn yet, or gotten dirty or leaked on. (Limp, filmy bags are not the easiest things to wash in the sink, and they certainly aren’t dishwasher-safe.) Of course, to not reuse disposable bags at all would be practically criminal once you have them at your disposal, but shouldn’t it be a goal to cut down? Even if, somehow, plastic bags aren’t the worst pollution plaguing our country, wouldn’t we see benefits in the long run from cutting out even a small aspect of our problem?

Joseph doesn’t seem to think so, asserting that above all he is fighting for truth. So that’s interesting. Keep dreaming the impossible dream, Don Josef, and fight that good fight for the honor of the plastic bag. Try not to hurt yourself.

…and a hat tip to World on the Web!

In my domestic world view, you can never have too many filmy bags close at hand.

At the grocery checkout, I always request plastic, never paper. If a clerk at the drugstore asks me if I need a sack for a small item, I say, “Yes, thanks.” If I spot a plastic bag floating around like a white jellyfish – and it’s not too filthy – I snag it like it’s my lucky day. Same thing goes for the slick sleeves protecting the daily newspaper. They go right into the bin underneath the kitchen sink.

Every now and then, our supply of bags runs low – and panic sets in. Time to go shopping to restore the essential stockpile.

What? Seriously? Who says things like this? Logan Jenkins does, apparently, and he has an excuse at the ready to explain away his raging obsessive-compulsive bagophilia:

Frankly, I can’t imagine urban life without the convenient bags that conform to the human hand as it grasps – and then quickly reverses into a clean, tidy, knotted sack – what our golden retriever regularly leaves behind with shameless gusto.

Oh, well sure. That makes perfect sense. As a cat owner, I too keep a vault of grocery bags that I fished out of the ocean to deal with her litter box needs… oh wait, no I don’t, because that’s crazy. So I guess that would be fine if Mr. Jenkins just wanted to air his personal issues, but of course he has a further agenda. Perhaps you can deduce what that agenda might be?

If Solana Beach and now Encinitas are true harbingers of San Diego County’s future – and I fear they fit that futuristic bill – then my days of copping free poop bags appear to be numbered.

Our coastal paladins are on a crusade to banish from the planet the most useful, flexible, sublime – and cheapest – packaging device in human history. Yes, there are those who might call this anti-plastic campaign a responsible reaction to an inconvenient truth about the earth’s health. I, on the other hand, call it an atrocity, the mass extermination of a noble species of human invention. In a (new) word, it’s . . . bagocide.

Oh, for the love of… well, there it is. Bagocide. Now, don’t get me wrong — I can understand how one might appreciate the convenience of disposable plastic bags. They really do have their own certain charms (when one overlooks the costs, anyway). But the second one starts throwing around words like “sublime” and “atrocity” and “bagocide” (and no, I did not add the italics for emphasis, they’re italicized in the original piece), it all starts sounding a little preposterous. Further frustrating is that Jenkins spends an entire section outlining the cons and environmental detriment caused by plastics and their paper counterparts. After this, however, he reiterates his passion for polymers (“I’ll cherish every free bag and value it like stolen gold. I’ll hoard the sacks like a survivalist stocking up on bullets and beans…”), blames “litterbugs” for all the world’s environmental issues ruining his doggy quality time, and snidely comments that he expects San Diego will have no choice but to shop “Euro-style” with reusables — as if following Europe’s lead is somehow supposed to be an insult. To round out the article, Jenkins really — to borrow his own phrase — goes for the gusto himself with this gem:

Before it’s too late, dog owners and free-market libertarians must form packs, as well as PACs, in support of this threatened industrial species. Who knows? Sanctuary cities, while imposing and enforcing Draconian anti-litterbug laws, could declare themselves plastic friendly – and proud of it.

Maybe the tide will turn if millions of Americans get off the whale bandwagon and wail in unison:

Save the Bags!

There you have it: damn the whales, save the plastic bags. So there are two options here. Either Logan Jenkins fancies himself some sort of modern-day environmental Jonathan Swift, or he truly believes what he’s writing. The former seems plausible — some columnists build whole careers on being incendiary, and it’s made some very wealthy indeed. A certain demographic seems to love reading characters, especially a good cantankerous Andy Rooney-type. Perhaps this is just an over-the-top article meant to stimulate discussion on the subject. Maybe he wants his readers to think about their everyday actions and perhaps look into ways to better their routines. Or maybe he just wanted, like Swift, to write a shocking and scandalously black-humor piece on a serious subject — an attempt that this time sadly missed the mark, as it fell short of humor and comments are already cropping up in a show of support for his “cause.” Are any of these it, Mr. Jenkins? Can I have the relief of knowing that you’re just trying to be lighthearted, or at least instigating and subversive? I really would like an answer.

Because the only alternative is that you really believes this, and the only relief that can bring me will come in the form of two headache pills and a dark, quiet room.