Saturday, June 22, 2019

America’s Suicide Epidemic

Tomgram: Rajan Menon, The Death(s) of the Working Class in the Age of Trump
Posted by Rajan Menon at June 18, 2019
In early October 2016, as the most staggering presidential election campaign of our lives was nearing its end, I wrote this about the man whom, I suggested, heartland working-class whites might consider dispatching to the White House as an American version of a “suicide bomber”:
“In relation to his Republican rivals, and now Hillary Clinton, he stands alone in accepting and highlighting what increasing numbers of Americans, especially white Americans, have evidently come to feel: that this country is in decline, its greatness a thing of the past, or as pollsters like to put it, that America is no longer ‘heading in the right direction’ but is now ‘on the wrong track.’ In this way, he has mainlined into a deep, economically induced mindset, especially among white working-class men facing a situation in which so many good jobs have headed elsewhere that the world has turned sour.
“Or think of it another way (and it may be the newest way of all): a significant part of the white working class, at least, feels as if, whether economically or psychologically, its back is up against the wall and there’s nowhere left to go. Under such circumstances, many of these voters have evidently decided that they’re ready to send a literal loose cannon into the White House; they’re willing, that is, to take a chance on the roof collapsing, even if it collapses on them.”
And I wouldn’t take back a word of that, not in a country in which you can indeed feel a sense of decline still growing, in which, as TomDispatch regular Rajan Menon has recently made clear, epidemics of self-disrespect, self-loathing, and self-harm are distinctly the order of the day. And speaking, in fact, of suicide and presidents, as Menon makes strikingly evident today, in that very same heartland, among that very same white working class, suicide itself is rising to epidemic proportions and the suicide bomber in the White House is giving it quite a helping hand. Tom
America’s Suicide Epidemic
It’s Hitting Trump’s Base Hard
By Rajan Menon
We hear a lot about suicide when celebrities like Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade die by their own hand. Otherwise, it seldom makes the headlines. That’s odd given the magnitude of the problem.
In 2017, 47,173 Americans killed themselves. In that single year, in other words, the suicide count was nearly seven times greater than the number of American soldiers killed in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars between 2001 and 2018.
A suicide occurs in the United States roughly once every 12 minutes. What’s more, after decades of decline, the rate of self-inflicted deaths per 100,000 people annually -- the suicide rate -- has been increasing sharply since the late 1990s. Suicides now claim two-and-a-half times as many lives in this country as do homicides, even though the murder rate gets so much more attention.
In other words, we’re talking about a national epidemic of self-inflicted deaths.
Worrisome Numbers
Anyone who has lost a close relative or friend to suicide or has worked on a suicide hotline (as I have) knows that statistics transform the individual, the personal, and indeed the mysterious aspects of that violent act -- Why this person?  Why now? Why in this manner? -- into depersonalized abstractions. Still, to grasp how serious the suicide epidemic has become, numbers are a necessity.
According to a 2018 Centers for Disease Control study, between 1999 and 2016, the suicide rate increased in every state in the union except Nevada, which already had a remarkably high rate.  In 30 states, it jumped by 25% or more; in 17, by at least a third.  Nationally, it increased 33%.  In some states the upsurge was far higher: North Dakota (57.6%), New Hampshire (48.3%), Kansas (45%), Idaho (43%).
Alas, the news only gets grimmer.
Since 2008, suicide has ranked 10th among the causes of death in this country. For Americans between the ages of 10 and 34, however, it comes in second; for those between 35 and 45, fourth.  The United States also has the ninth-highest rate in the 38-country Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. Globally, it ranks 27th.
More importantly, the trend in the United States doesn’t align with what’s happening elsewhere in the developed world. The World Health Organization, for instance, reports that Great Britain, Canada, and China all have notably lower suicide rates than the U.S., as do all but six countries in the European Union. (Japan’s is only slightly lower.)
World Bank statistics show that, worldwide, the suicide rate fell from 12.8 per 100,000 in 2000 to 10.6 in 2016.  It’s been falling in China, Japan (where it has declined steadily for nearly a decade and is at its lowest point in 37 years), most of Europe, and even countries like South Korea and Russia that have a significantly higher suicide rate than the United States. In Russia, for instance, it has dropped by nearly 26% from a high point of 42 per 100,000 in 1994 to 31 in 2019.
We know a fair amount about the patterns of suicide in the United States.  In 2017, the rate was highest for men between the ages of 45 and 64 (30 per 100,000) and those 75 and older (39.7 per 100,000).
The rates in rural counties are almost double those in the most urbanized ones, which is why states like Idaho, Kansas, New Hampshire, and North Dakota sit atop the suicide list. Furthermore, a far higher percentage of people in rural states own guns than in cities and suburbs, leading to a higher rate of suicide involving firearms, the means used in half of all such acts in this country.
There are gender-based differences as well. From 1999 to 2017, the rate for men was substantially higher than for women -- almost four-and-a-half times higher in the first of those years, slightly more than three-and-a-half times in the last.
Education is also a factor.  The suicide rate is lowest among individuals with college degrees. Those who, at best, completed high school are, by comparison, twice as likely to kill themselves.  Suicide rates also tend to be lower among people in higher-income brackets.

The Economics of Stress
This surge in the suicide rate has taken place in years during which the working class has experienced greater economic hardship and psychological stress.  Increased competition from abroad and outsourcing, the results of globalization, have contributed to job loss, particularly in economic sectors like manufacturing, steel, and mining that had long been mainstays of employment for such workers. The jobs still available often paid less and provided fewer benefits.
Technological change, including computerization, robotics, and the coming of artificial intelligence, has similarly begun to displace labor in significant ways, leaving Americans without college degrees, especially those 50 and older, in far more difficult straits when it comes to finding new jobs that pay well. The lack of anything resembling an industrial policy of a sort that exists in Europe has made these dislocations even more painful for American workers, while a sharp decline in private-sector union membership -- down from nearly 17% in 1983 to 6.4% today -- has reduced their ability to press for higher wages through collective bargaining.
Furthermore, the inflation-adjusted median wage has barely budged over the last four decades (even as CEO salaries have soared).  And a decline in worker productivity doesn’t explain it: between 1973 and 2017 productivity increased by 77%, while a worker’s average hourly wage only rose by 12.4%. Wage stagnation has made it harder for working-class Americans to get by, let alone have a lifestyle comparable to that of their parents or grandparents.
The gap in earnings between those at the top and bottom of American society has also increased -- a lot. Since 1979, the wages of Americans in the 10th percentile increased by a pitiful 1.2%. Those in the 50th percentile did a bit better, making a gain of 6%.  By contrast, those in the 90th percentile increased by 34.3% and those near the peak of the wage pyramid -- the top 1% and especially the rarefied 0.1% -- made far more substantial gains.  
And mind you, we’re just talking about wages, not other forms of income like large stock dividends, expensive homes, or eyepopping inheritances.  The share of net national wealth held by the richest 0.1% increased from 10% in the 1980s to 20% in 2016.  By contrast, the share of the bottom 90% shrank in those same decades from about 35% to 20%.  As for the top 1%, by 2016 its share had increased to almost 39%.
The precise relationship between economic inequality and suicide rates remains unclear, and suicide certainly can’t simply be reduced to wealth disparities or financial stress. Still, strikingly, in contrast to the United States, suicide rates are noticeably lower and have been declining in Western European countries where income inequalities are far less pronounced, publicly funded healthcare is regarded as a right (not demonized as a pathway to serfdom), social safety nets far more extensive, and apprenticeships and worker retraining programs more widespread.
Evidence from the United States, Brazil, Japan, and Sweden does indicate that, as income inequality increases, so does the suicide rate. If so, the good news is that progressive economic policies -- should Democrats ever retake the White House and the Senate -- could make a positive difference.  A study based on state-by-state variations in the U.S. found that simply boosting the minimum wage and Earned Income Tax Credit by 10% appreciably reduces the suicide rate among people without college degrees.
The Race Enigma
One aspect of the suicide epidemic is puzzling.  Though whites have fared far better economically (and in many other ways) than African Americans, their suicide rate is significantly higher.  It increased from 11.3 per 100,000 in 2000 to 15.85 per 100,000 in 2017; for African Americans in those years the rates were 5.52 per 100,000 and 6.61 per 100,000. Black men are 10 times more likely to be homicide victims than white men, but the latter are two-and-half times more likely to kill themselves.
The higher suicide rate among whites as well as among people with only a high school diploma highlights suicide’s disproportionate effect on working-class whites. This segment of the population also accounts for a disproportionate share of what economists Anne Case and Angus Deaton have labeled “deaths of despair” -- those caused by suicides plus opioid overdoses and liver diseases linked to alcohol abuse. Though it’s hard to offer a complete explanation for this, economic hardship and its ripple effects do appear to matter.
According to a study by the St. Louis Federal Reserve, the white working class accounted for 45% of all income earned in the United States in 1990, but only 27% in 2016.  In those same years, its share of national wealth plummeted, from 45% to 22%.  And as inflation-adjusted wages have decreased for men without college degrees, many white workers seem to have lost hope of success of any sort.  Paradoxically, the sense of failure and the accompanying stress may be greater for white workers precisely because they traditionally were much better off economically than their African American and Hispanic counterparts.
In addition, the fraying of communities knit together by employment in once-robust factories and mines has increased social isolation among them, and the evidence that it -- along with opioid addiction and alcohol abuse -- increases the risk of suicide is strong. On top of that, a significantly higher proportion of whites than blacks and Hispanics own firearms, and suicide rates are markedly higher in states where gun ownership is more widespread.
Trump’s Faux Populism
The large increase in suicide within the white working class began a couple of decades before Donald Trump’s election. Still, it’s reasonable to ask what he’s tried to do about it, particularly since votes from these Americans helped propel him to the White House. In 2016, he received 64% of the votes of whites without college degrees; Hillary Clinton, only 28%.  Nationwide, he beat Clinton in counties where deaths of despair rose significantly between 2000 and 2015.
White workers will remain crucial to Trump’s chances of winning in 2020.  Yet while he has spoken about, and initiated steps aimed at reducing, the high suicide rate among veterans, his speeches and tweets have never highlighted the national suicide epidemic or its inordinate impact on white workers. More importantly, to the extent that economic despair contributes to their high suicide rate, his policies will only make matters worse.
The real benefits from the December 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act championed by the president and congressional Republicans flowed to those on the top steps of the economic ladder.  By 2027, when the Act’s provisions will run out, the wealthiest Americans are expected to have captured 81.8% of the gains.  And that’s not counting the windfall they received from recent changes in taxes on inheritances. Trump and the GOP doubled the annual amount exempt from estate taxes -- wealth bequeathed to heirs -- through 2025 from $5.6 million per individual to $11.2 million (or $22.4 million per couple). And who benefits most from this act of generosity?  Not workers, that’s for sure, but every household with an estate worth $22 million or more will.
As for job retraining provided by the Workforce Innovation and Opportunity Act, the president proposed cutting that program by 40% in his 2019 budget, later settling for keeping it at 2017 levels. Future cuts seem in the cards as long as Trump is in the White House. The Congressional Budget Office projects that his tax cuts alone will produce even bigger budget deficits in the years to come. (The shortfall last year was $779 billion and it is expected to reach $1 trillion by 2020.) Inevitably, the president and congressional Republicans will then demand additional reductions in spending for social programs.
This is all the more likely because Trump and those Republicans also slashed corporate taxes from 35% to 21% -- an estimated $1.4 trillion in savings for corporations over the next decade. And unlike the income tax cut, the corporate tax has no end date. The president assured his base that the big bucks those companies had stashed abroad would start flowing home and produce a wave of job creation -- all without adding to the deficit. As it happens, however, most of that repatriated cash has been used for corporate stock buy-backs, which totaled more than $800 billion last year.  That, in turn, boosted share prices, but didn’t exactly rain money down on workers. No surprise, of course, since the wealthiest 10% of Americans own at least 84% of all stocks and the bottom 60% have less than 2% of them. 
And the president’s corporate tax cut hasn’t produced the tsunami of job-generating investments he predicted either. Indeed, in its aftermath, more than 80% of American companies stated that their plans for investment and hiring hadn’t changed. As a result, the monthly increase in jobs has proven unremarkable compared to President Obama’s second term, when the economic recovery that Trump largely inherited began. Yes, the economy did grow 2.3% in 2017 and 2.9% in 2018 (though not 3.1% as the president claimed). There wasn’t, however, any “unprecedented economic boom -- a boom that has rarely been seen before” as he insisted in this year’s State of the Union Address.
Anyway, what matters for workers struggling to get by is growth in real wages, and there’s nothing to celebrate on that front: between 2017 and mid-2018 they actually declined by 1.63% for white workers and 2.5% for African Americans, while they rose for Hispanics by a measly 0.37%.  And though Trump insists that his beloved tariff hikes are going to help workers, they will actually raise the prices of goods, hurting the working class and other low-income Americans the most. 
Then there are the obstacles those susceptible to suicide face in receiving insurance-provided mental-health care. If you’re a white worker without medical coverage or have a policy with a deductible and co-payments that are high and your income, while low, is too high to qualify for Medicaid, Trump and the GOP haven’t done anything for you. Never mind the president’s tweet proclaiming that “the Republican Party Will Become ‘The Party of Healthcare!’” 
Let me amend that: actually, they have done something. It’s just not what you’d call helpful. The percentage of uninsured adults, which fell from 18% in 2013 to 10.9% at the end of 2016, thanks in no small measure to Obamacare, had risen to 13.7% by the end of last year.
The bottom line? On a problem that literally has life-and-death significance for a pivotal portion of his base, Trump has been AWOL. In fact, to the extent that economic strain contributes to the alarming suicide rate among white workers, his policies are only likely to exacerbate what is already a national crisis of epidemic proportions.

Rajan Menon, a TomDispatch regular, is the Anne and Bernard Spitzer Professor of International Relations at the Powell School, City College of New York, and Senior Research Fellow at Columbia University’s Saltzman Institute of War and Peace Studies. His latest book is The Conceit of Humanitarian Intervention.

Is US economy under Trump really in good shape?

Reality does not add up to what Federal Reserve or Trumpsters would like us to believe...

U.S. Steel Plants Are Going Idle, but the Fed Continues to Perpetuate the Myth that the “Economy is in Good Shape”

Friday, June 21, 2019

United States of Plastic - America’s Dangerous Plasddiction

Promotional materials from America’s plastics industry encourage Americans to drop off their plastic waste at a recycling bin, suggesting that afterwards it will be whisked off to a factory where it is seamlessly transformed into something new. Curious about what actually happens, the Guardian sent reporters to 11 countries to track how US waste makes its way across the world.

Its investigation revealed that hundreds of thousands of tons of US plastic are being shipped every year to poorly regulated developing countries for the dirty, labor-intensive process of recycling.

The consequences for public health and the environment are grim. Failures in the recycling system are adding to a growing sense of crisis around plastic, a wonder material that is now found in enormous quantities in the oceans, and to a lesser degree, the human digestive system.

Reflecting grave concerns around plastic waste, 187 countries signed a treaty last month giving nations the power to block the import of contaminated or hard-to-recycle plastic trash. The US was not one of the signers. The Guardian scrutinizes the plastic crisis engulfing America and the world in this new series, United States of Plastic.
Where does your plastic go? 
Global investigation reveals America's dirty secret
by Erin McCormick, Bennett Murray, Carmela Fonbuena, Leonie Kijewski, Gökçe Saraçoğlu, Jamie Fullerton, Alastair Gee and Charlotte Simmonds
The Guardian, 17 Jun 2019


What happens to your plastic after you drop it in a recycling bin?

According to promotional materials from America’s plastics industry, it is whisked off to a factory where it is seamlessly transformed into something new.

This is not the experience of Nguyễn Thị Hồng Thắm, a 60-year-old Vietnamese mother of seven, living amid piles of grimy American plastic on the outskirts of Hanoi. Outside her home, the sun beats down on a Cheetos bag; aisle markers from a Walmart store; and a plastic bag from ShopRite, a chain of supermarkets in New Jersey, bearing a message urging people to recycle it.

Tham is paid the equivalent of $6.50 a day to strip off the non-recyclable elements and sort what remains: translucent plastic in one pile, opaque in another.

A Guardian investigation has found that hundreds of thousands of tons of US plastic are being shipped every year to poorly regulated developing countries around the globe for the dirty, labor-intensive process of recycling. The consequences for public health and the environment are grim.

A team of Guardian reporters in 11 countries has found:

    Last year, the equivalent of 68,000 shipping containers of American plastic recycling were exported from the US to developing countries that mismanage more than 70% of their own plastic waste.

    The newest hotspots for handling US plastic recycling are some of the world’s poorest countries, including Bangladesh, Laos, Ethiopia and Senegal, offering cheap labor and limited environmental regulation.

    In some places, like Turkey, a surge in foreign waste shipments is disrupting efforts to handle locally generated plastics.

    With these nations overwhelmed, thousands of tons of waste plastic are stranded at home in the US, as we reveal in our story later this week.

These failures in the recycling system are adding to a growing sense of crisis around plastic, a wonder material that has enabled everything from toothbrushes to space helmets but is now found in enormous quantities in the oceans and has even been detected in the human digestive system.

Reflecting grave concerns around plastic waste, last month, 187 countries signed a treaty giving nations the power to block the import of contaminated or hard-to-recycle plastic trash. A few countries did not sign. One was the US.

A new Guardian series, United States of Plastic, will scrutinize the plastic crisis engulfing America and the world, publishing several more stories this week and continuing for the rest of 2019.

“People don’t know what’s happening to their trash,” said Andrew Spicer, who teaches corporate social responsibility at the University of South Carolina and sits on his state’s recycling advisory board. “They think they’re saving the world. But the international recycling business sees it as a way of making money. There have been no global regulations – just a long, dirty market that allows some companies to take advantage of a world without rules.”

Where America’s recycling lands

Plastic only came into mass consumer use in the 1950s, but in the Pacific Garbage Patch it is already thought to be more common than plankton. Officials around the globe have banned particularly egregious plastic pollutants, such as straws and flimsy bags, yet America alone generates 34.5m tons of plastic waste each year, enough to fill Houston’s Astrodome stadium 1,000 times.

Of the 9% of America’s plastic that the Environmental Protection Agency estimated was recycled in 2015, China and Hong Kong handled more than half: about 1.6m tons of our plastic recycling every year. They developed a vast industry of harvesting and reusing the most valuable plastics to make products that could be sold back to the western world.

But much of what America sent was contaminated with food or dirt, or it was non-recyclable and simply had to be landfilled in China. Amid growing environmental and health fears, China shut its doors to all but the cleanest plastics in late 2017.

Since the China ban, America’s plastic waste has become a global hot potato, ping-ponging from country to country. The Guardian’s analysis of shipping records and US Census Bureau export data has found that America is still shipping more than 1m tons a year of its plastic waste overseas, much of it to places that are already virtually drowning in it.

A red flag to researchers is that many of these countries ranked very poorly on metrics of how well they handle their own plastic waste. A study led by the University of Georgia researcher Jenna Jambeck found that Malaysia, the biggest recipient of US plastic recycling since the China ban, mismanaged 55% of its own plastic waste, meaning it was dumped or inadequately disposed of at sites such as open landfills. Indonesia and Vietnam improperly managed 81% and 86%, respectively.

“We are trying so desperately to get rid of this stuff that we are looking for new frontiers,” said Jan Dell, an independent engineer, whose organization The Last Beach Cleanup works with investors and environmental groups to reduce plastic pollution. “The path of least resistance is to put it on a ship and send it somewhere else – and the ships are going further and further to find some place to put it,” she said.

Take Vietnam. Minh Khai, a village on a river delta near Hanoi, is the center of a waste management cottage industry. Rubbish from across the world, inscribed in languages from Arabic to French, lines almost every street in this community of about 1,000 households. Workers in makeshift workshops churn out recycled pellets amid toxic fumes and foul stench from the truckloads of scrap that are transported there every day. Even Minh Khai’s welcome arch, adorned with bright red flags, is flanked by plastic waste on both sides.


In 2018, the US sent 83,000 tons of plastic recycling to Vietnam. On the ground, America’s footprint is clear: a bag of York Peppermint Patties from Hershey, with US labeling, and an empty bag from a chemical coatings manufacturer in Ohio.

“We’re really scared of the plastic fumes, and we don’t dare to drink the water from underground here,” said Nguyễn Thị Hồng Thắm, the plastic sorter, wearing thick gloves, a face mask and a traditional Vietnamese conical hat to protect herself from the sun. “We don’t have money so we don’t have any choice but to work here.”

While the exact health effects of workers’ exposure to plastic recycling operations have not been well studied, the toxic fumes resulting from the burning of plastics or plastic processing can cause respiratory illness. Regular exposure can subject workers and nearby residents to hundreds of toxic substances, including hydrochloric acid, sulfur dioxide, dioxins and heavy metals, the effects of which can include developmental disorders, endocrine disruption, and cancer.

Once the plastic is sorted by workers like Tham, others feed the scrap into grinders before putting it through densifiers that melt and condense the scrap so it can be molded into pellets.

The Vietnamese prime minister, Nguyễn Xuân Phúc, ordered a tightening on scrap standards in July 2018, and legal monthly imports were cut to one-tenth of what they had been. As of April, more than 23,400 shipping containers of scrap remain held up in customs. But business continues to boom in Minh Khai. Tham said that scrap is still arriving from Haiphong, northern Vietnam’s largest port, and other parts of the country every day, and records show a significant rebound in imports.

As countries like Vietnam, Malaysia and Thailand banned imports, records show the plastic waste fanning out to a host of new countries. Shipments began making their way to Cambodia, Laos, Ghana, Ethiopia, Kenya and Senegal, which had previously handled virtually no US plastic.

The Guardian found that each month throughout the second half of 2018, container ships ferried about 260 tons of US plastic scrap into one of the most dystopian, plastic-covered places of all: the Cambodian seaside town of Sihanoukville, where, in some areas, almost every inch of the ocean is covered with floating plastic and the beach is nothing but a glinting carpet of polymers.

“I cannot accept plastic being imported into our country,” said a resident, Heng Ngy, 58. Ngy and his wife live in a wooden house on stilts that seems to hover on a sea of plastic. A pungent stench wafts up to the open-aired rooms.

Cambodia’s waste problem is believed to stem from its own use of plastic and a lack of any system for dealing with it. No one interviewed in Sihanoukville had any idea that plastic recycling was being exported from the United States, and what happened to the plastic after it arrived is unclear.

Experts estimate that 20% to 70% of plastic entering recycling facilities around the globe is discarded because it is unusable – so any plastic being recycled at Sihanoukville would inevitably result in more waste there.

Alex Gonzalez-Davidson, the co-founder of the Cambodian environmental organization Mother Nature, said his organization had not been aware of the issue. But “if it works, they will bring more and more”, he said. For now, shipments of plastic appear to have tailed off.

How plastic waste fuels a global business

How does your plastic get from your curbside to a village in south-east Asia? Through a trading network that crosses oceans and traverses continents. It’s a network that is complex, at times nefarious, and in which few consumers understand their role. Now, that network is at a breaking point.

Plastic’s first stop on its months-long journey is a recycling facility where it is sorted into bales based on its type – soda bottles, milk jugs and clamshell-style containers, for instance, are all made of subtly different kinds – and readied for sale.

Waste plastic is a commodity, and recycling brokers search across the US and abroad for buyers who will want to melt the plastic down, turn it into pellets, and make those pellets into something new.

In the past, it made economic sense to ship the plastic to Asia, because shipping companies that transport China’s manufactured goods to the US end up with thousands of empty shipping containers to carry back. In the absence of American goods to fill them, the companies have been willing to ship out America’s recycling at rock-bottom rates.

Steve Wong, a Hong Kong-based businessman, is one of the middlemen who connects your recycling with international buyers. “At one time, I was one of the biggest exporters in the world,” he said, worth millions. Now, Wong said, his company, the Hong-Kong based Fukutomi Recycling, was deep in debt.

Wong’s problem is hardly a lack of supply. Each month the equivalent of thousands of shipping containers worth of recyclable plastics, which used to be exported, are piling up all over the United States. Nor is his worry a shortage of demand for plastic. It is desperately needed by factories in China for manufacturing into myriad new products – from toys and picture frames to garden gazebos.

What is nearly killing his business is the fact that many countries have soured on the recycling industry, after unscrupulous operators set up shop, operating as cheaply as possible, with no regard for the environment or local residents.

“In our industry, if you do it properly, you save the environment,” Wong said. “If you do it improperly, you destroy the environment.”

As far as profits go, the numbers just barely favor recycling.

Wong said he might spend $150 to buy a ton of plastic scrap from a US recycler. Once it is shipped abroad, sold to a processor, turned into pellets and then again shipped to a manufacturer, the seller might ask as much as $800 per ton.

Yet the cost of similar virgin plastic, which is often higher quality, is just $900 to $1,000 a ton.

Wong believes the answer in the future will be to process the material closer to the United States. That is why he has planned trips to meet with government officials in the Dominican Republic and Haiti, and why, on a recent Wednesday, Wong crisscrossed back and forth through heavy traffic in the Mexican city of Monterrey, located about 150 miles south of Laredo, Texas.

Wong, a trim 61-year-old dressed head-to-toe in khaki like a safari hunter, was working to set up a new plastics recycling factory for an investor who hopes to one day process US plastic.

At one reseller – a corrugated-metal warehouse piled floor-to-ceiling with plastic that included shimmery sheaths of wrapping from US retail stores – Wong wanted to test the quality of the supply. He filled a baggie with ground-up flakes of black plastic from picking crates, then took a cigarette lighter and lit one of the flakes on fire. He carefully sniffed the smoke to get a sense of what variety of plastic it was.

At Wong’s next stop, an existing Monterrey recycling processor, you could get a sense of the work the new factory might do.

A rudimentary plastic processing machine stretched 40ft across the bare dirt of the warehouse floor. The processor takes rejected car parts and grinds them up into confetti-sized flakes. Workers feed these flakes into a flume that channels them past a heater to melt them. The melted plastic is pressed into long, white strings, which are stretched across the room and allowed to harden. At that point, they are chopped into pellets a little bigger than rice grains.

Wong said he would like to build more modern factories with up-to-date systems for eliminating toxic releases to the air and water. But he said he was sure that many of his less scrupulous competitors would keep exporting on the cheap. He suggested that even in countries that had banned plastic imports, the material continued to be smuggled in.

“Recyclers have set up factories in all these countries, but they don’t have enough supply. So, even though it is smuggling, even though it is not legal, they still have to do what it takes to get the plastic.”

With US plastic landing in countries that have never seen it in such quantities, local residents are crying foul.

In the Philippines, about 120 shipping containers a month are arriving in Manila and an industrial zone in the former US military base at Subic Bay. Records indicate they were filled with plastic scrap shipped from such places as Los Angeles, Georgia and the Port of New York-Newark.

From the Manila port, shipping records and Philippines customs documents show, some of the US plastic was transported to Valenzuela City. The area, on the outskirts of the Philippine capital, is known as “Plastic City” and residents are increasingly concerned about the number of processing factories sprouting in their midst.

“You smell that?” said a shopkeeper, Helen Lota, 47, as she stood in front of her neighborhood convenience store at noon one day last month. “That’s nothing. It’s worse towards evening. It gets suffocating,”

“There are times it’s really hard to breathe. Many of us here are getting sick,” said Lota. “I had my daughter’s cough checked in the hospital. But the X-ray is clear. The coughing must be caused by the smell.”

Noticing Lota complaining about the plastic problem, passersby stopped to chime in. “My mother’s cough won’t go away, probably because of the smell,” said Renante Bito, 38.

Yet recycling is also one of the area’s biggest income sources. Officials and residents interviewed by the Guardian said they had assumed the plastic being processed in their town was the Philippines’ own waste. None realized that some of it was being shipped from the US. Representatives for the factories receiving US waste declined to be interviewed.

In Turkey, US plastic imports may be putting an entire profession at risk. Since China closed its doors, the amount of plastic recycling Turkey takes in from abroad has soared, from 159,000 to 439,000 tons in two years.

Each month, about 10 ships pull into the ports of Istanbul and Adana, carrying about 2,000 tons of cheap US scrap plastic that is no longer wanted by China. Most of it comes from the ports of Georgia, Charleston, Baltimore and New York. Some of it is described in shipping records as “Walmart film scrap”, the clear cling wrap used to secure huge pallets of products sold by Walmart. (Walmart declined to comment on the issue.) These cargo ships join dozens of others from the UK and other European countries.

Their arrival is closely watched by Turkey’s scrap pickers, who number in the hundreds of thousands and travel the streets collecting scraps from houses and businesses to resell to factories for manufacturing into products such as plastic bags.

Now, the scrap pickers say, the factories are buying cheaper and cleaner plastic from the foreign recycling coming in on ships. Piles of their unsold, locally collected plastic are building up in urban storage yards. They have organized a campaign to stop the flood of foreign plastic, getting friends who work in the port to take videos of materials being offloaded and conducting their own ad hoc investigations.

“There are 500,000 street collectors in Turkey, working almost like ants to collect the waste,” said Baran Bozoğlu, head of Turkey’s Chamber of Environmental Engineers. Yet he said the “uncontrolled and unlimited” import of foreign recycling was leaving these local recyclers without markets for the scrap they collect. “It’s like we have flour and water and, instead of making our own bread, we import bread from abroad! Does that make any sense to you?’

Every day, Eser Çağlayan, 33, wheels his giant white collecting bag through a booming business district along the shores of the Bosphorus strait, hunting for treasures that people throw out, along with the usual plastic and paper scraps. In the past, Çağlayan, a 20-year-veteran of the scrap-picking trade, was able to feed his family of five with the $800 or so he made every month. But this year, he said, his income was down by about a third due to the competition from cheap, imported recycling.

‘‘I want to tell people in US this: recycle in your own yard,” he said. “Don’t bring down our income and put us all in danger of hunger.’’

How people are fighting for change

The environmental and social ramifications of America’s plastic exports are shocking even to those in the industry. Bob Wenzlau is considered one of the founding fathers of the US curbside recycling system, having helped to launch the program in Palo Alto, California, in 1976.

Curbside recycling “was started with a really good intention; I used to feel so proud,” said Wenzlau. Now, after learning of the effects the nation’s exports are having overseas, he said, “my heart aches, because the system is doing harm”.

Wenzlau recently convinced the Palo Alto city council to pass a measure requiring the city’s recyclers to report on the social and environmental consequences of any recycling that goes to foreign countries.

Even in San Francisco, long hailed for the high percentage of waste it is able to recycle, the head of the city’s waste disposal provider has said that the system is failing.

“The simple fact is, there is just too much plastic – and too many different types of plastics – being produced; and there exist few, if any, viable end markets for the material,” Michael J Sangiacomo of Recology recently wrote in an op-ed.

A study released this spring by the environmental group Gaia documented the human toll of US plastics exports on the countries that receive them.

“The impact of the shift in plastic trade to south-east Asian countries has been staggering – contaminated water supplies, crop death, respiratory illness from exposure to burning plastic, and the rise of organized crime abound in areas most exposed to the flood of new imports,” the report found.

“These countries and their people are shouldering the economic, social and environmental costs of that pollution, possibly for generations to come.”

For many experts, the most frightening example of how an out-of-control recycling industry can overwhelm a country is Malaysia. Immediately following the China ban, it became the go-to destination for US plastic and is still paying the price.

In the first 10 months of 2018, the US exported 192,000 metric tons of plastic waste to Malaysia for recycling. Some of the factories had licenses to process foreign waste. Some only had licenses to deal with Malaysian plastic waste but secretly processed foreign waste. Often, such “processing” actually meant illegally burning plastic, with the toxic fumes inhaled by Malaysians living near unlicensed factories and dump sites.

In October, the Malaysian government announced plans to immediately stop issuing new permits for importing plastic waste, and to end all plastic waste importing within three years. Even so, thousands of tons of junk plastic remain heaped on the landscape, left behind by unscrupulous business operations.

On the outskirts of Jenjarom, a town in the district of Kuala Langat, where local authorities shut down 34 illegal factories last July, a land manager struggled to get rid of 10ft-high piles of plastic left under a corrugated roof by illegal importers of foreign waste. Nearby, a huge field of foreign plastic had been abandoned by the former renters: Chinese illegal factory owners, who left without warning following the crackdown.

And the illegal importation of US waste is continuing. According to the environmental minister Yeo Bee Yin’s accounts to the local press, many shippers simply change the codes on the documentation for their cargo containers to make it look like they are sending virgin plastic, which isn’t regulated, instead of the same old recycling scrap.

The continued arrival of foreign plastics is no surprise to Pang Song Lim, a 44-year-old civil engineer who lives in Sungai Petani, a town of half a million in the north-west state of Kedah. Officials say there may be 20 illegal plastic-processing factories there. Every evening at sunset, Lim prepares his house and his nose for the onslaught from the burning of foreign plastic waste nearby. Foul smoke engulfs homes and a local school.

“It’s normally after eight o’clock,” Lim said. “Burned plastic … acidic … it hurts my chest. I try to seal my windows and block under the door with carpet.”

“You wake up at midnight because of the smell,” said Christina Lai, a Sungai Petani activist. “One day this land will be taken over by rubbish and not humans.”

Lead reporter: Erin McCormick (Oakland, California and Monterrey, Mexico)

Reporters: Bennett Murray (Hanoi, Vietnam), Leonie Kijewski (Phnom Penh, Cambodia), Carmela Fonbuena (Manila, Philippines), Gökçe Saraçoğlu (Istanbul, Turkey), Jamie Fullerton (Jenjarom and Sungai Petani, Malaysia), Febriana Firdaus (Jakarta, Indonesia), Kimberley Brown (Quito, Ecuador), Kwasi Gyamfi Asiedu (Accra, Ghana), Redwan Ahmed (Dhaka, Bangladesh).

What's the scoop on dark mode on smartphones?


An interesting perspective...
June 18, 2019
Written by Kelsey Donk

If you've used any computer or mobile app recently — hello, that's all of us — you've probably been asked if you wanted to switch to "dark mode." Maybe you immediately made the switch and felt your eyes relax. Maybe you didn't, and it made you wonder if this dark craze makes any difference at all to your eyes. The short answer to this question? Like many things in science, the quick answer is, "Maybe."



Battle of the Brightness



A lot of factors are at play when it comes to the relative lightness and darkness of your screen. Consider the shifts that might happen over the course of the day and the content you consume. In the morning — maybe even before the sun rises — you might read the news. That means dark surroundings and a bright white screen. During the day, maybe you work on spreadsheets or Word documents in bright light. And at night, you might browse Netflix on a dark screen background amid your dark surroundings.



These circumstances play differently in terms of the strain they cause on the eyes. Scientists tend to take their base rule from your typical middle-of-the-day work: light screen, dark text, bright surroundings. That's how most of our screens looked before the advent of "dark mode." In the middle of the day, when surrounding light is high, dark on light is ideal. In one of the few studies on the subject, researchers found that people read more easily and retain more information when text is formatted this way. Contrast makes details easy to see, and the study authors noted that most readers are used to reading dark on light, anyway.



Another reason a white background makes things easier to read comes down to the biology of the human eye. White reflects all of the colors on the spectrum, which means that a white background keeps the pupil from opening wide to let in more light, which would make it harder to focus. But there's also a quirk in the human visual system that makes your eyes overreact to light objects on a dark background, which can make white text on black seem to bleed into the page and make it harder to read.

It's Different in the Dark



In a dark room, things seem to change. A white screen with black text certainly feels like it puts more strain on the eyes, though the science on this isn't conclusive. While you'd think your pupils would shrink to pinpricks when flooded with the white background of a standard webpage, at least one study found that not to be the case: When you compare different room brightness conditions, the size of the pupils actually changes less when people look at a dark-on-light color scheme than it does when they look at light-on-dark. And like we mentioned before, a wider pupil means worse focus, so even in dark conditions, it may still be better to go with dark-on-light for long passages of text.



Still, what the limited science says and what the general public seems to experience are currently two different things. Before dark mode was introduced to the larger world, gamers were the ones concerned with eye pain in the dark. They often used special glasses to mask blue light and put ambient lights behind their screens to make white backgrounds less painful. As screens became more ubiquitous — and more of us started to read our phones before bed — the rest of the electronics-loving world started to demand a dark color scheme.



If you log on to your favorite sites right now, you'll probably find they've taken the hint. Twitter's optional "night mode" switches the display to white text on shades of dark blue. It's almost perfect for use in a dim setting. Reddit's night mode uses light gray on a near-black background. And Netflix has relied on white text over black and gray for years. But at least in brightly lit rooms, it's best to set your favorite sites to the easiest setting for your eyes: dark on light.



Though the scientific verdict is still out, using a dark-mode setting could possibly help your eyes hurt less when you use them in the dark. Just follow your comfort and switch things up if you start to feel strained.



Get stories like this one in your inbox or your headphones: Sign up for our daily email and subscribe to the Curiosity Daily podcast.



To see how your eyes can fool you, check out "The Ultimate Book of Optical Illusions" by Al Seckel. We handpick reading recommendations we think you may like. If you choose to make a purchase, Curiosity will get a share of the sale.