As I’ve written a few times over the years since I began this blog, packaging is the bane of my existence. On Monday morning, I was wrestling with a plastic package for a nasal spray that I use occasionally to clear my sinuses and reduce post-nasal drip and related cough. The thing was hermetically sealed. No way to open it without a pair of sharp scissors. And even that was a struggle. I ended up cutting off one edge, then slicing straight down the middle of the plastic, then adding a diagonal cut to release the treasure so ridiculously enclosed. Throughout this mission, I had to be careful not to hurt my fingers on the sharp edge of cut plastic.
Why is this necessary? Are the manufacturers that fearful of someone opening their precious package in the store and stealing the goods? As it is, you can’t even access this product in a CVS or Walgreens without summoning a sales clerk with a set of keys to open the plastic-covered shelving, which has become ubiquitous in recent months to prevent shoplifting (another dubious trend).
And must we really rely on so much plastic for packaging? All that discarded plastic eventually breaks down into microplastics, which have worked their way into the global ecosystem—and our bodies. Microplastics, defined as less than 5 millimeters across, have been documented in human lungs, maternal and fetal placenta tissues, human blood and breast milk. They have been detected on the top of Mount Everest and in the depths of the Mariana Trench. They are in the air, our food, our water. Here’s a really thoughtful overview of the extent of microplastics’ spread from Science News.
While research into the health impact of ingested microplastics is not yet definitive, there is ample reason for concern. At the very least, according to research immunologist Nienke Vrisekoop of the University Medical Center Utrecht, microplastics are a form of air pollution. We know that familiar forms of air pollution, such as smog and car exhaust, stress our lungs. Vrisekoop, who is quoted in the Science News article, expects the same will be true of microplastics.
What to do? We can’t avoid plastics altogether, not yet, anyway, but at least we can try to reduce their use in our daily lives. I’m looking at you, bottled water. I may not yet have an alternative to that nasal spray, but I’m considering writing to the manufacturer to let them know what I think of their packaging. And of course, recycling plastics is a no-brainer.
There’s a famous line in the 1967 film The Graduate, when a very young Dustin Hoffman, at a college graduation party hosted by his parents, is advised of the one word that should define his future: “Plastics.” Indeed, it has defined all of our futures. Just not in the way we expected.
Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.
Image: Naja Bertolt Jensen
