Business As Usual

This story begins two years ago (21 months to be precise) when I first arrived in Pittsburgh. After a couple weeks surviving by the good graces of my friend Justin, who I had known in Colorado and come here to stay with after trekking it up from my residency in Florida, I landed a telemarketing job, which I abruptly quit after a one week stint. A week or so later, on the same day there was the possibility I could have been sent to operate an elevator, I was sent to an ad office downtown to fill an assistant position in the mail room -and there I have remained.

A few days into the job and the myriad amount of waste was undeniable. A few weeks later, after having asked some questions, I took it upon myself to place some used cardboard boxes by the four main copiers. A co-worker made a recycling sign that I taped to each of them, I sent out an office-wide email, and so began my recycling efforts for an office with two floors and more than 120 people.

The (24 story) building's loading dock has a massive dumpster and three other smaller bins that are meant strictly for cardboard. For the first few weeks I dumped our paper in one of these, knowing that it was a very strong possibility, though I was keeping it separate from the cardboard, it would end up in the landfill since this was not a site specifically designated for paper. Co-workers had been approaching me, thanking me for the effort and offering help, though only a few have ever followed through, but one who did, happened to have a truck she said I could use, as I don't own a car. I soon found a used-paper wholesaler who would take our waste if I dropped it off, they'd shred it and sell it off to god knows who or where -I never asked.

Newspaper and magazines were a no-no for the wholesaler, though he did me a favor and took ours since it was a minimal amount, a little bit in the mix wouldn't hurt, it was kind of their way of skimming from the top. Cardboard was the premium material, it was so good they could afford to pay for it, about fifty cents a pound. I usually walked away with enough for a coffee and bagel.

While the wholesaler was generous to the point that he offered to take my cans and bottles as well, though they'd literally pile up in the corner till he had enough to sell those off to some business acquaintance, I could sense that he was bit annoyed with my questions and my quiet insistence to drive onto the scale to weigh our waste. The scale, a metal platform embedded within the concrete parking lot, was clearly meant for much larger vehicles, not semis, but certainly dump trucks. Once a week for a month I drove my co-workers Dodge Dakota onto the scale, once when I arrived, and again after I unloaded around the back of the building, a warehouse where the shredding was done by five or six guys. The paper would amass in a pile in the center of the floor where, with the help of a bulldozer, they'd shovel it into a pit, where one or two of them would then direct it onto a conveyor belt that rose up dumping the paper through the shredder and into a compressing bin, where it would finally be loosely wrapped for shipping.

Every time I arrived I had to go into the office to let him know I was there, and then wait a few minutes in the car for him to come to the scale. He always obliged, but I could tell he felt he was too busy to be bothering with such a small truckload; only it was a task I felt necessary in order to know just how much waste was leaving our office (though obviously much more was being produced). That first month, and the only month I've taken any measurements, I recycled over 400 pounds. On average, as I can safely assure that the waste collection has increased as we've gone along, that's roughly 8,400 lbs (a few tons) in almost two years.

However, I stopped going to the wholesaler because I wanted to start recycling commingled containers as well and felt, though he had offered to take them, that I had trouble this man enough, and it wouldn't do for me to take the paper one place and the containers another, so I have since been making weekly trips to the low-tech drop-off center. For a time I used my co-worker's Dakota, then one day I was suddenly not allowed to drive anyone's car from the office. Making trips with the recycling was not the only time this was necessary, as I was often being asked to run errands to pick up various supplies. The decision I assume had to do with the president's concerns about insurance -I was never told specifics. My boss, who owns a small Ford SUV, thankfully started making the trips with me; we did this for a couple months and I was glad to have the company, but it wasn't good to have us both out of the office, and it was costing her money for parking. Luckily Flexcar started its operation.

After essentially going it alone for all this time, a few weeks ago, much to my pleasant surprise, I got a phone call from a complete stranger working for another company a few floors above who had heard of my actions and wanted to help pressure the building management into taking some responsibility. As I talked with her (and I don't find it ironic at all that's she's from San Francisco and not a local Pittsburgher) about my experiences I must have sounded rather skeptical. Last winter I had walked into the building manager's office and literally told her all I wanted for Christmas was a recycling program. It was a sweet moment to be sure, but a year later I'm still being told some variety of, "We're working on it."

Part of the issue concerns the fact that the building was put up for sale some time ago, though I understand it will be under new ownership beginning next year. This has been a stifling factor in many ways. It not only seems to have somehow contributed to the stalled efforts of recycling negotiations, but it's also put a damper on my attempts to maintain and update amenities in our office. Our lease expires in less than two years, and as ironic as it may seem, having been through three layoffs, there is talk of expanding to another floor, or moving entirely to a new building. With our executives unsure of where we'll be in two years, they're understandably unwilling to pay for some updates, like cleaning the carpet, or replacing the lighting fixtures which continually burnout or brownout, costing us thousands of dollars in maintenance every year.

Having just read a recent article in BusinessWeek about the trials and tribulations of Aspen Skiing Company's Sustainability Coordinator, Auden Schendler, it's becoming evident to me that, even as a person with such a title, unless you actually work for a company that specifically deals in environmental sustainability, you're going to be blessed with responsibility, but absolutely no power to help you claim it; you can be sure there will be no specific operating budget for which you will be responsible and allowed to use as you see fit.

It's not necessarily a naive point of view to believe that this kind of trust and cooperation could one day become a widespread practice for eco-friendly ventures in the common workplace. Employees, unless working under a vigilant and watchful eye of a micro-manager, are often trusted to do their job with little supervision; this in fact provides a good standard measure for an employee's personality and commitment to the company -for whatever reason it may be, a person's motivation or lack thereof becomes quite apparent when they're essentially left to their own devices, those who flourish under high stakes will continue to raise them, while others will simply continue to take what they're given because they're workin' for a livin'.

One word can describe the notion that this kind of business ethnic can be more widely incorporated: incentives. Yes, to some it may seem a slightly sad necessity, but for the most part it's certainly true. The environmental movement, though it's continuously in the media limelight, essentially continues to be a grassroots production -in a way this is the essence of Paul Hawken's book Blessed Unrest, the green revolution, though happening worldwide, is a semi-voluntary endeavor being made by independent and unconnected individuals and organizations. Yes, the scientific data of human caused climate change is indisputable; yes, people are changing their lifestyles; yes, companies are changing the way they do business; but as Hawken has explained time and time again, you can look at the people involved and feel optimistic about our chances, but if you look at the data and are optimistic, you're not looking at the data.

If our efforts to curtail global warming are to equal and offset the disastrous rate of ecological decline we are witnessing at this point in history, the green movement can longer afford to be spearheaded from the ground up; we must begin to get leadership from the top down, from our elected officials, be they local or national, and from many many more business owners, large and small. I don't know how many times, when discussing my efforts, that I've been told, "These things take time." My response is simple, "It wouldn't take time if the boss said we're going to do it."

The current environmental crises isn't something that will work itself out in a positive manner given time, which is exactly how the cookie is crumbling, because I can assure you, as Schendler relates in the BusinessWeek article, there is rarely a day that goes by when I'm not teased about "making a difference" and related to from a myopic viewpoint which condescendingly refers to me as a "treehugger." The green movement may be on everybody's lips, but lip service it remains, as it seems to me it is widely and blatantly given little serious consideration by the majority of our culture.

All that being said, I have to now admit, as it may have been slowly becoming noticeable -my spirit has been fading. And so this past Friday, after having started as I said almost two years ago, I decided I was going to reduce my recycling efforts, and no longer collect paper and magazines for weekly trips to the drop-off. I'll continue to recycle cardboard in our loading dock, and also collect containers, which I'll drop off on a more limited basis, as they accumulate much slower than paper.

It's a decision I've yet to fully comprehend beyond the fact that it's evident I'm physically tired from lugging of all that waste to and fro, and emotionally drained from the continual isolation I feel within a company whose leadership feigns support for my actions, yet quite simply, for one reason or another, abdicates its responsibility.

Still, whatever regret I may develop won't come from any fear of power, considering I feel they have absolutely no right to scorn me for discontinuing a practice I alone started and carried out; but I do know my efforts are/were appreciated by my co-workers and they'll certainly be disappointed, which just may prove to isolate me further. Though I've made no announcement, one person did already notice the recycling boxes weren't by the copiers and asked me about it. When I told him I wasn't going to do it anymore, he was understanding and rather pleasantly thanked me; he also expressed his wish, as many have before, that the building provide the service.

As I packed the Flexcar with the recycling that day, I stopped, as I always do, to talk with the security guard in the loading dock, an older gentleman who was at one time an architect for industrial farms in the Midwestand, and I told him that this was going to be it for a while. He was rather confounded and exclaimed, "I thought if I could count on anybody, I could count on you." Sadder words have rarely been spoken. I told him I was tired, and that, though we both jokingly knew it to be naive, I hoped it would serve as a bit of reverse psychology and move other people to action. You tell me, what are the chances?