Materials Minimalism Redux

The statistic that shattered my materials blindness was that out of the 400-500 million tons of plastic we produce each year globally, only 9% is recycled.

That's the plastics crisis neatly encapsulated in a single statistic right there.

We are using our longest-lasting material, a material that doesn't break down (it only breaks up into smaller and smaller microplastics), for some of our most temporary commodity goods.

But even a statistic as powerful as that can come across as one-dimensional. If we're only recycling 9%, what's happening to the rest?

The science of material flows is incredibly complex, so we are lucky that the data visualisation geniuses at Information is Beautiful have pulled together this helpful schematic (though it is based on 2017 data).

Recyclable vs Recycled

The low-hanging fruit for us to reduce waste and improve these pathetically low recycling rates is implementing policies and infrastructure to unblock the pathways from 'recyclable' to 'recycled'. These two terms are often used incorrectly and interchangeably when they are very different things.

Recycled is the clearest of the two. It simply means that the material has been colllected, reprocessed and put back in use. The circular economy ideal is that the material is then used again to make the same or similar product. The complexity and, in many cases, the Achilles heel of this process is that often, the material is of inferior quality and unable to be used for the same or similar product.

An example is the chemically-based method of recycling soft plastics. The offtake material resulting from that process isn't of a standard to make more soft plastics, but instead is only good enough for applications such as making park benches. So the demand for the material is lower, as is the price, reducing the incentive for the investors, businesses and consumers to get involved (as happened with the Redcycle collapse here in Australia).

This outcome is known as 'downcycling'.

Recyclable is a term so vague that it has left the door wide open for greenwash. Many products and materials feature the recycling symbol with a number that hoodwinks many consumers. They see the symbol and feel like it will be recycled, so they purchase the product and dispose of it in their recycling bin. But, and this is a huge BUT, in many cases, these materials are difficult and costly to recycle and can only be recycled by specialist plants that are inaccessible to most communities.

Let's take this symbol, for instance:

This is the symbol for polystyrene. Incredibly lightweight, mouldable, and versatile, it protects many of our precious cargoes in transit and, until recently, has been widely used as single-service cups and containers for food service. But it is an environmental menace. It sheds microplastics, such as those little beads all along the lifecycle, leaches chemicals when heated, and is incredibly bulky to dispose of.

But this symbol is deceptive because, while No. 6 polystyrene can technically be reused and recycled,  the process is difficult, costly, and not widely used. Importantly, most curbside recycling programs will not accept polystyrene.

You're likely 'wishcycling' your drink cartons

Another example of the Recyclable vs Recycled dichotomy is the ubiquitous Tetra Pak.

The environmental downsides to plastic bottles are mostly well-known:

• They are expensive to recycle.
• Recycling rates are low.
• There are limited options for the use of recycled plastic material.
• Plastic litter can wreak havoc on the environment.

This heightened awareness of the plastics crisis has resulted in an increase in the use of metal and cardboard for drinks and liquid containers—like Tetra Pak.

You would be forgiven for thinking that the coconut water, juice or oat milk carton in your fridge is a cardboard box. It certainly feels and looks like a waxy cardboard.

But tear it open, and not only will you find an aluminium-lined interior, but if you look closer, you will notice the layers of other materials—a total of six layers in fact, and in this order: polyethylene, paperboard, polyethylene, aluminium foil, polyethylene and polyethylene.

Given that most of us see a cardboard box, once you've finished your tasty beverage, you might turn it over, see the recycling symbol, and throw it into your recycling bin without a second thought. 

But that would be 'wishcycling'. That is, putting things in your recycling bin, hoping they'll be recycled when they cannot or are unlikely to be.

If the materials that make up a tetra pak were on their own, like an aluminium can or cardboard box, there wouldn't be an issue.

The problem arises when these materials are fused together. Separating the mix of materials in Tetra Paks—paper fibres, aluminium, and polyethylene—requires specialised equipment and significant inputs like water and energy to separate and recycle, which many facilities lack.

While Tetra Pak claims its cartons are "100% recyclable," this is only true if processed by recyclers with the right machinery—something not widely available.

Globally, 75% of Tetra Paks end up in landfill or incinerated, with rates nearing 100% in some countries. The Guardian recently called out Tetra Pak as a major contributor to plastic pollution. Even in Vietnam, where the company is working towards a 15% recycling target, 85% of cartons will still go unrecycled.

The monstrous hybrid

The Tetra Pak is only one example of a materials and packaging problem known as "monstrous hybrids': products made from numerous different materials and assembled in a way that makes it all but impossible to reclaim the materials without loss of quality or substantial reprocessing pollution.

According to the Sustainability Dictionary, 'monstrous hybrid' is:

A term coined by Michael Braungart and William McDonough for a product, component, or material that combines both technical and organic nutrients (such as recyclable paper and poly-vinyl-chloride) in a way that cannot be easily separated, thereby rendering it unable to be recycled or reused be either system. Most monstrous hybrids can only be thrown out and contribute to the waste stream and cannot be reused.

The appeal of monstrous hybrids is easy to understand: they allow designers and manufacturers to combine the best attributes of different materials to create products that are lighter, stronger, cheaper, or more attractive. But the environmental cost is immense.

The challenge lies in recognising that monstrous hybrids are not just an design and engineering flaw—they are a systemic problem rooted in how we prioritise convenience, cost, and aesthetics over circularity and reuse.

The path to circularity begins with materials minimalism

The fundamental shift that is required (and starting to gain traction) is to embrace the principles of material purity and separability.

This means designing products with either technical or biological nutrients, but not both—at least, not in ways that prevent their separation at the product's end of life.

For example, a 4-pack of craft beer in recyclable aluminium cans, held together by a cardboard jacket, achieves this balance because the materials can be easily separated for recovery. In contrast, a paper carton with a plastic lining—a classic monstrous hybrid—offers no such simplicity, effectively locking its components in an unusable state at end-of-life.

Designing out monstrous hybrids will demand innovation across the entire supply chain. It starts with material selection, where manufacturers must choose options that support circularity. It also requires rethinking product assembly, ensuring that components can be disassembled and recovered with minimal energy or resource input.

Equally important is fostering collaboration between designers, material scientists, and waste management experts. When these groups work in silos, we end up with well-intentioned products that fail in practice. By aligning goals and sharing knowledge, industries can create solutions that balance performance with sustainability.

Incentivising materials minimalism

The problem until now is that the industry has been moving slowly. Sure, there is consumer demand to fix this issue, but ultimately, the market incentives aren't there to shift the behaviour of the big players.

But the worm of global regulations is slowly turning, largely through a regulatory approach known as Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR).

The basic premise of EPR is simple: if companies profit from making and selling products, they should also be accountable for collecting and managing the waste those products create—instead of externalising the cost to society (council rates) and the environment (pollution).

EPR is a policy approach that holds producers accountable for the entire lifecycle of their products, particularly at the end-of-life stage.

It goes beyond covering waste management costs; it incentivises producers to rethink how they design, use, and choose materials. By making products easier to recycle, reuse, or repair, EPR helps reduce waste at its source and will be a key step in the shift towards a genuine circular economy.

The mechanism that sits at the core of EPR is a fee-based incentivisation known as 'eco-modulated fees'. Eco-modulated fees are levies based on our ability to recover and recycle.

The concept is simple: The easier your packaging is to recover and recycle, the lower the fee.

The eco-modulation approach increases the need to simplify and streamline the number of materials placed on market (POM) to ensure they can be collected, processed and recycled. The faster a company transitions, the faster it will reduce its costs—providing a market incentive that will ultimately reduce the materials going to landfill over time. 

In the meantime, the fees being paid by companies while they transition funds improved collection and recycling infrastructure. Thus creating a virtuous loop that is, funnily enough... circular.

I'll have more to share in the coming weeks in terms of what materials minimalism looks like through the lens of materials innovation.

Bonus: Thoughts on the failure of the INC-5 plastic treaty negotiations in Busan

I didn't want to dedicate this week's post to venting my frustration and bitter disappointment about this outcome. Besides, there is some excellent reporting and first-hand accounts out there that can be accessed via Google.

But I also felt it would be conspicuous in its absence if I didn't address it... looming over this post like a big plastic elephant in the room.

So, I thought I'd share my post from LinkedIn on the matter:

A silver lining glimmering around the global plastics treaty (INC-5) failure

In 2018, Fiji was the first country to call for a global treaty to tackle plastic pollution. Now, not only are more than 100 countries standing with them, but those 100 countries refused to accept a bad treaty pushed by a handful of petrostates.

These petrostates pushed for a second-rate treaty that focused on recycling and excluded any mention of plastic production caps and the banning of toxic chemicals. A bad treaty, pushed in bad faith by bad actors, is worse than no treaty.

It looks like these negotiations will be finalised next year in an INC5.2. And since INC-1, more than 800 million tonnes of plastic has been produced, over 30 million tonnes of which have leaked into our ocean, according to WWF.

We cannot kick the can down the road any further.

Off the back of the failure of COP29 and now this, it's clear that we've reached the limits of the consensus model.

The consensus model is great in theory—when every party walks away with not everything they wanted but at least something substantial. But fossil-fuel lobby, petrostates, and plastic-producing nations are no longer acting in good faith.

If they're refusing to play by the rules and play their own zero-sum game... we need to change the game.

We've gone from Fiji to 100 nations. We need to harness that momentum and take that into the INC-5.2 negotiations next year.

We have to stop letting a handful of petrostates stop progress. Let them rebel, but don't let them stop us from doing what needs to be done.

If they won't get with the program, the UN must be bold, break with convention and proceed to a global treaty without these bad actors.

The health of our planetary systems depends on it 🌏