The Story of Stuff - Annie Leonard [47]
Back to my T-shirt: a final impact to consider is its carbon dioxide (CO2) footprint, or its contribution to climate change. To grow the cotton for just my one shirt, about 2 pounds of CO2 are generated—to make petrochemical-based fertilizers and pesticides, and for the electricity used in pumping irrigation water. The cleaning, spinning, knitting, and finishing processes add another 3 pounds. So in total my little T-shirt generates about 5 pounds of CO2. That’s before it gets transported to and from the store and then gets washed and dried over its lifetime, which at least doubles its carbon footprint.31
When I visited the website of the clothing company Patagonia recently, it allowed me to calculate the footprints of several of their items, including one of their organic cotton T-shirts. The site told me where “nearly half” of the cotton came from (Turkey); that’s a long way away. The next stop listed was Los Angeles, for knitting, cutting, and sewing in one factory and dyeing in another, using oil-based dyes, some of which are not PVC free. Patagonia explains: “Although plant-based dyes would seem to be more environmentally benign, they can be hard to harvest in sufficient quantity for commercial use. Plant-based dyes often lose their colorfastness after very few washings.” Then the shirt was driven up to their distribution center in Reno, Nevada. According to their calculations, Patagonia’s T-shirt travels about 7,840 miles and generates 3.5 pounds of carbon dioxide, even before it gets sent to your local store.32
Now, I don’t mean to imply that organic cotton T-shirts (and other clothes) aren’t worth the extra dollars you’ll likely need to spend on them. Organic cotton avoids the use of pesticides and chemical fertilizers, which avoids the carbon involved in making those chemicals, keeps the groundwater and soil cleaner, and safeguards the health of animals and humans (farmworkers, residents of neighboring communities, and consumers). Organic farmers claim that the healthier soil (with the aerating services of earthworms that have not been killed by chemicals) causes less water to be lost in runoff, although biotech proponents say their genetically modified crops use less water. Factories like the ones Patagonia uses for the spinning, weaving, and sewing processes are at the forefront of energy conservation and also minimize toxic runoff. And if you see a fair trade logo, it means that the cotton farmers got fairer prices and the fabric workers got better than sweatshop conditions and were compensated more fairly than the women I met in Haiti.
For all these reasons, organic and fair trade cotton products are the better choice. But the best choice of all? Cherish the T-shirt you have. Wear it and care for it with the same persevering love you have for an heirloom piece of jewelry. Resist the urge to replace it with the newest color or neckline. I keep my T-shirts until they’re too worn to wear even to the gym, and then I turn them into rags. It’s what my grandparents did, and it’s good enough for me. Because even though the price tag said $4.99, or even $12.99 at Patagonia, that doesn’t come close to reflecting all the hidden costs of one plain white cotton T-shirt.
A Book
I have shelves and shelves of books. An entire wall in my bedroom is books. I have books on the kitchen counter, books spilling off my daughter’s shelves, books piled by the unused fireplace. Books occupy an odd space in my relationship to Stuff: while I feel uncomfortable buying new clothes or electronics, I don’t hesitate to pick up the latest recommended title. I asked my friends about it and found I’m not alone in feeling like books are somehow exempt from the negative connotations of too much Stuff. Do we feel the value of knowledge and creativity embodied by a book