Bamboo pulp lunch box

Mushroom bowls, seaweed cups and food detergent capsules: designers create ephemeral alternatives to plastic. But are we ready to accept them?
About a dozen graduate students in the Department of Packaging and Industrial Design at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, brainstormed ideas over a table filled with Exacto knives, bowls, cutting boards, duct tape, funnels and packets of cannabis powder, mushrooms. pieces and sugar.
Their profile? Create new forms of food packaging to replace the unsustainable structures that modern life seems to depend on: disposable plastic drink cups, lids, straws and bottles.
Focusing on the long-lived detritus commonly found in takeout meals, the students baked and 3D printed straws from sugar and agar, a gel-like substance derived from seaweed. They make the bowls by hand from mycelium (the fibrous roots of mushrooms). The team developed sheets of black plastic that can be folded into takeout containers (pictured above) that can be returned to a collection point, sanitized and reused indefinitely by a consortium of food delivery chains. Another duo made an ingenious cardboard box containing a collapsible fork and spoon combination that diners can tear off from the perforated edges (above). After lunch, everything goes to the compost pit, which, of course, is never far off in an ideal world.
“As the unintended consequences of plastic use become more evident locally and globally, we are seeing a dramatic increase in demand for packaging alternatives,” said Kate Daly, author of Closed Loop Partners, a social impact investment fund focused on waste management.
Of the 78 million tons of plastic packaging produced annually in the world, only 14% is recycled. Uncollected lightweight floating plastic ends up in our oceans – nine million tons a year – most from developing countries that don’t have the infrastructure to manage it. As these countries get richer, they inevitably start consuming more packaged foods, and in a world that is becoming more and more obsessed with convenience, many more continue to buy meal kits and grocery services (which creates a lot of packaged foods and takeaways). ), and the problem is expected to grow. worst. food.
More conscientious recycling may have benefits, but it is not a panacea. Recycling requires energy, water, and transportation of materials. Most recycled plastic is shredded, melted down, and recycled into goods such as lumber, wool, or carpet, but ends up in landfills anyway. Manufacturers keep making bottles and shrink wrap thinner and thinner, but the fact remains that plastic is made from non-renewable resources (oil or gas) and most plastics will never have a second life.
But the plastic is so good that it is very difficult to replace it. Plastic protects food during transportation over long distances from pressure, humidity, light and decay-accelerating bacteria. (The shelf life of cucumbers can be extended from three to fourteen days by wrapping them in plastic. However, the packaging can last for over a century.) The plastic is strong and transparent, allowing consumers to see what they’re buying. Plastic raw materials are widely available and very cheap. At least until now.
Shortly after the turn of the 20th century, food companies began using a flexible plant-based packaging material called cellophane. Chemists later imitated this bio-based polymer with PVC and less toxic polyethylene, creating the Saran wrap. While cellophane can be composted, oil-based films and subsequent hard plastic containers cannot. All set for a one-time future.
In the 1970s, Capri Sun began bottling juice drinks in pleated bags that weighed less than a plastic bottle of the same size. Made from fused layers of ultra-thin plastic and aluminum foil, these bags come flat to save space and keep food fresh without refrigeration. Bags are ubiquitous these days, holding everything from tuna to ketchup, pet food to pickles. Every year, Americans consume about 92 billion bags. But their prospects at the end of their lives are grim. As it turns out, the bags are like kryptonite to recycling companies, unable to separate their heterogeneous layers.
Designers, engineers, biologists, investors and processors, often working together, are now working to create packaging that meets the requirements of the so-called circular economy.
Its design structure avoids the linear “take it, make it, throw it away” model from well to refinery, manufacturing plant to supermarket, consumer to landfill. Instead, it envisions a supply chain that continually recycles old materials into high-value products, focusing on sustainable design, remanufacturing and reuse, and business models that favor sharing and rental (washing machines, cars) over possession. In a circular economy, wealth circulates in two separate cycles. One is to recover technical nutrients such as metals, minerals and polymers for reuse, the other is to return biological materials (fibers, wood) to nature through composting schemes or convert them into carbon through anaerobic digestion of sexual energy.
To imagine the packaging of the future, many designers look to the past for inspiration. The Swedish research institute RISE has developed a prototype of an almost flat cellulose container that, for example, soup makers can fill with freeze-dried vegetables and spices. When visitors add hot water, the container’s origami folds expand into a complete and fully compostable bowl. Pratt’s students made a bowl of mycelium that grows in a week and turns into compost in less than a month.
The Weiss Institute at Harvard University has created a “piercing” inexpensive transparent plastic that is completely compostable. Made from shrimp shell-derived chitosan and insect-derived silk protein, shrill can be used to create thin films or rigid shapes. But unfortunately it is not yet used in food packaging as it requires manufacturers to tune their machines.
Of course, a compostable future depends on the popularity and participation of consumers in urban composting systems that collect organic material to turn it into fertilizer or energy. Hundreds of cities in the EU, Canada and the US are working towards this, but building a system can be a chicken-and-egg problem. In New York City, for example, the amount of material available far exceeds the capabilities of nearby processors. But investors do not want to build facilities without confidence in the source of financing.
There is also the question of humanity. Swedish product developer Fred Skeberg, founder of the food and design website Ateriet, once spotted vendors at a music festival serving food on “edible” cornstarch plates that should have been thrown into the compost bin. But people think their bowls and plates will get lost in nature, Skelberg said, “and they throw them all over the place. So it’s counterproductive.” viewed as a technological solution to remove personal responsibility.”
Until systems and people are in sync, many compostable packages will end up in landfills and generate greenhouse gases. Compostable materials are considered contaminants if they mistakenly enter recycling plants (many plant-based plastics resemble their petroleum-based counterparts). What if they drift into the sea? Compostable plastics decompose at about 135°F and exposure to ultraviolet radiation. Because degradable plastics are heavier than oil-based plastics, they can sink and get stuck for years.
With these issues in mind, some designers are choosing to stick with plastic since recycling systems already exist, at least in developed countries. There are currently over thirty different plastics in packaging, but some innovators are looking for a single group of polymers that can meet multiple performance requirements, be affordable to manufacturers, require little equipment change, and be used as widespread superplastics passing through municipal systems. recycled and easily converted into new packaging. But such a product still remains elusive.
At the same time, some designers intend to completely abandon disposable packaging. Take plastic straws, for example: Starbucks has committed to phasing out plastic straws by 2020 in favor of thinner, lidded straws. New cases are heavier than old cases, but large pieces of plastic are more likely to make it through recycling plants.
The same idea – no manufacturing – applies to pasta, which is often packaged in recyclable cartons with a non-recyclable plastic window on the front. “Just because the materials are there, you don’t have to add them,” says Dinah Baumeister, co-founder of consulting firm Biomimicry 3.8. “Why can’t we take pictures of pasta the same way we make dry cereal and shoot windows?”
Or the whole package? The American company MonoSol manufactures a range of water-soluble transparent vinyl polymers. The polymer most commonly used in dishwashers or linen drawers is also food safe and does not affect smell, texture or taste (unless flavors are added), according to European and US regulatory authorities. The food service industry is already using hot-melt packaging: MonoSol envisions a future in which retail servings of hot cocoa, oatmeal, rice, pasta or other hot-water-cooked foods will become commonplace.
Similarly, Swedish design studio Tomorrow Machine has designed a series of food packages called This Too Shall Pass, which includes a small bottle of cooking oil made from waxed caramel. The bottle cracks like an egg, releasing oil, and the wax casing is compostable (but don’t hold your breath: wax takes years to decompose). For chilled liquids, the company has developed a seaweed bag that is said to “wither at the same rate as its contents.” For rice and other dry foods, colored beeswax is used in pyramid-shaped wrappers that can be peeled like oranges. These designs have attracted a lot of attention for their beauty and perspective, but so far they are just concepts.
As part of his Disappearing Packaging dissertation project, New York-based designer Aaron Mickelson ditched the outer container and plastic shrink wrap of boxed tea bags, permanently affixing tea bags to accordion-style books. Users tear off one tea bag at a time, and the book eventually shrinks to zero.
American company Loliware uses seaweed mixed with organic sweeteners, flavors and colors to make its FDA-approved cups edible (and therefore compostable). Each contains 135 calories, can hold cold or room temperature drinks, and sells for a dollar each. Like ice cream cones, they come with paper sleeves “for user convenience,” says Loliware co-founder Chelsea Briganti. The company also produces edible kelp straws. In talks with major food and beverage retailers, Loliware is expanding rapidly, with plans to cut prices and replace 1 billion plastic straws a year.
Inspired by how nature separates the inside from the outside, like the skin of a grape, scientists are experimenting with edible membranes to retain liquids. Startup Skipping Rocks Lab created an unpackaged sip called Ooho by dipping ice pucks into plant and kelp extracts to create a waterproof membrane. The consumer bites off the balloon, takes a few sips of cold water, and then swallows the membrane itself. The balls will be produced on compact machines at the point of sale, eliminating the need for cups.
David Edwards of Harvard University has created his own version of edible skin called WikiCells, using fruit and other organic molecules to coat balls of soft, perishable food. Stonyfield used this technology for their frozen yogurt pearls, which debuted in 2014, but sales were tepid and the pearls disappeared. “This is a great experiment,” said Gary Hirshberg, chief executive of Stonyfield. “But consumers find it incomprehensible to take unpackaged product, even if they can wash it.” (The company is now experimenting with bamboo-based yogurt cups, a material that degrades in backyard compost piles, which is better than just industrial yogurt cups. Materials , compostable at the facility, advanced.)
Today, WikiCells revolves around PerfectlyFree Fruit Snacks. But consumers aren’t taking these foods out of bulk containers: treats come in non-recyclable plastic bags or trays. Marty Koleve, director of research and development at Incredible Foods, owned by PerfectlyFree, said: “We tried some products with very minimal packaging design, but it turned out that consumers and commercial food distribution infrastructure no longer accept truly unpackaged products. “.
Ultra-packaged food delivery services (delivery of food ingredients and recipes) is a $1.2 billion market that some analysts predict will more than quadruple by 2023. But with that comes a flood of non-recyclable or hard-to-recycle trash ice packs, bubble wrap and Styrofoam packaging.
Three-year-old Temperpack solved this waste problem by creating a fully recyclable insulated shipping crate that eliminates the need for Styrofoam to pack oil and gas-derived peanuts, which is not welcome in processing plants.
How does Temperpack, used by America’s largest food kit company, prevent Camembert from crushing or melting? Its layers of kraft paper are filled with Climacell, a bio-based foam that melts into cellulose fibers that are placed in the pulp mill along with the box itself. According to Temperpack, the production of Climacell foam emits ten times less greenhouse gases than the production of peanuts from polystyrene. But there is still a lot of non-recyclable waste: An industry study of three different mail-order meals found a total of 72 plastic packages, of which only 23 could be recycled.
While designers and psychologists work to solve these problems, governments can develop policies to reduce packaging waste, such as raising taxes on fossil fuels used to make single-use plastic. They could introduce minimum recycled content laws, require manufacturers to make new materials from old materials, and require a packaging deposit to ensure that more material is recycled. Sure, they could ban single-use plastics, including bags, straws, and cups.
Some retailers are already doing this: the aisle at the Ekoplaza supermarket in the Netherlands is for more than 700 “plastic-free” products packaged or contained in cardboard, metal, glass or certified compostable plastic. British retailer Iceland plans to phase out plastic in all its own-label products within five years, switching to recyclable glass bottles, paper and pulp trays and compostable plastics such as pulp.
Some critics say a better solution will force people to adopt a completely different consumption model: one that doesn’t involve single-use packaging.
MIWA, the Czech packaging and distribution system that won the Ellen MacArthur Foundation circular design competition, looks like it could do the job. After ordering food using the MIWA app, manufacturers and wholesalers put their goods, whether crackers, chopped liver or celery, into durable reusable containers and capsules and ship them to nearby stores or to consumers’ homes. When the capsules are empty, MIWA collects them, sterilizes them and returns them to the manufacturer for refilling.
So far, MIWA has been little more than a thought experiment, but it points to solutions that are already in use today: using washable bags and cans to sell bulk products, or wanting to put sliced ​​provolone and salami on the go. containers; buy naked cucumbers at the farmers’ market; buy beer in reusable bottles; avoid semi-finished products whenever possible.
“Technology will not rid us of the waste problem,” says Daina Baumeister. “The human psyche must change. At some point, you just have to say enough is enough.”
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