While in college working for peanuts in the cafeteria dish room, I heard two opposite and striking attitudes toward food waste.
One student complained about the food service’s admonition to “take one and come back for more.” The idea, of course, was that eyes are bigger than stomachs and that students who right away grab two portions may end up wasting one. This student’s attitude was, “I’ll take as much as I want, when I want, and if I waste the food, so what? I’m paying for it.”
On a different day, an international student from Africa expressed shock at the volume of leftovers headed for the garbage disposal: “People in my country would kill for this food.”
It seems that here in the States we have a less extreme but still significant divide on the subject of wasting (or conserving) resources in general. This matters in the water industry because, first of all, water is precious, and second, to a meaningful degree, water and energy are the same (it takes one to produce the other).
Forget the politics
We hear a lot about energy these days in the context of greenhouse gas emissions and climate change. I won’t get into the politics of global warming, except to say that what fights climate change (mainly using less fossil fuel) is highly beneficial whether climate change exists or not. That is, it cuts pollution, saves money, and reduces reliance on fuel from unstable regions. (Have you ever seen a “Support Our Troops” ribbon on the back of a Hummer and wondered if the owner sees any irony?)
Anyway, this is where we run into the divide about conserving resources. Some people want badly to conserve and will spend lavishly to do so. Others act almost as if being frugal with energy is somehow un-American.
Remember the first oil crisis in the late 1970s? President Jimmy Carter was drummed out of office in the 1980 election in part for having worn a sweater in a televised speech and suggesting we might have to use less fuel.
It’s fashionable in some circles to revile trains and sneer at bicycles. Yet it’s common for people in big cities to spend one hour, two hours, each way every day, commuting for work, much of that time simply idling in place. What could be more wasteful than millions of cars and trucks on a given day, across the country, sitting still on gridlocked freeways getting 0 miles per gallon? But don’t dare suggest we downsize our vehicles, carpool or use transit. Gas is cheap. Drill, baby, drill!
Taking it home
At home, we’re still addicted to huge houses. And a hue and cry went up when federal legislation outlawed 100-watt incandescent lightbulbs. Nevermind that compact fluorescents and especially LEDs can save us money despite their higher cost (and free us from the annoyance of changing bulbs).
Most of us could meaningfully save on energy at home with a few simple measures, especially if we live in homes built before the latest energy efficiency codes took effect. But we don’t make it much of a priority. (And here I must admit that initial investment is a barrier and payback can be slow.)
And how about water? People who live in areas of scarcity “get it.” But what about those living where I grew up, next to a Great Lake with an infinite supply? Why should they conserve? Well, because it costs energy and money to convey, treat, and deliver drinking water, and to collect and treat wastewater.
No one suggests that everyone drive (so-called) Smart Cars, or that we freeze (or swelter) in our homes to save on gas, oil and electricity. I do wish, though, that we could agree in principle that efficient use of energy is good — maybe even patriotic — and that wasteful habits are not something in which to take pride.
And if we did so agree, maybe it would be politically easier to free up investments in energy-saving technologies for water systems. Like cogeneration at the many wastewater treatment plants that at present don’t make good use of their biogas. Or hydroturbines in more gravity-flow water transmission pipes. So ends my sermon for February.
