Financial Times Europe - 02.11.2019 - 03.11.2019

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2 November/3 November 2019 ★ FT Weekend 19

however, Nestlé is very far from that
point: it produces 1.7m tonnes of plastic
packaging a year, third to Coca-Cola and
PepsiCo among companies that volun-
tarily disclose how much plastic packag-
ing they use.
Nestlé has been methodically going
through its portfolio to evaluate how it
can make packaging more sustainable
but it is a time-consuming task. It took
the company nearly two years to
remove all the plastic from the dozens of
types of packaging used on Smarties
chocolate globally — everything from
production lines, quality testing and
consumer response had to be taken into
account.
“In the past, we would design the prod-
uct packaging with many factors in
mind, and its environmental impact
was only one of them,” says Cremades.
“What is different now is that we are
having to re-engineer our whole portfo-
lio of products with these principles in
mind. We are all going back to school
here.”
Similar initiatives are under way else-
where. About 400 consumer goods
makers, packaging producers, retailers
and companies in the recycling industry
are taking part in an ambitious project
led by the Ellen MacArthur Foundation
that aims to create a “circular econ-
omy”, in which plastic never becomes
waste.
Participants — who pay to join — say
the regular workshops have turned into
a laboratory, bringing together people
who once rarely spoke to one another.
Companies in the project have commit-
ted to using more recycled content in
their packaging, a key step in giving
recyclers and waste companies a reason
to process the stuff. But they have a very
long way to go.
“It’s not enough to just think about

recycling, they have to think more fun-
damentally about their supply chain
and the product design so as to need less
packaging in the first place,” says
Sander Defruyt, who heads the project.
Take Coca-Cola. Despite standardis-
ing its bottles to be more recyclable,
only 9 per cent of the plastic packaging
that it uses annually is made from recy-
cled material. Others are doing even
worse:Unileversays less than 1 per cent
of the plastic it used for packaging last
year was recycled, while Nestlé used 2
per cent.
One issue is that designers and mar-
keters often balk at the quality and look
of recycled plastic. “It often comes in
shades of grey, and consumers aren’t
used to seeing that,” says one designer.
“It’s up to us to explain to them why the
packaging looks different.”
At Waitrose, everyone agreed on get-
ting rid of black plastic ready-meal
trays, as machines at waste-sorting
facilities cannot see them, making recy-
cling impossible. However, the market-
ers disliked the appearance of the pink,
light-green and beige recycled plastic
trays devised as alternatives.
Eventually the sustainability side
won, but only after trials proved that
consumers did not mind. Thenew mul-
ticoloured trays re now being rolleda
out nationally — accompanied with
small shelf signs to explain why they
look different — in a move that will pre-
vent 500 tons of black plastic ending up
in landfill or incineration each year.
Other problems are harder to crack.
No one yet has a fix for the crisp bag — its
thin layers of flexible plastic and metal

Continuedfrompage 18

are ideal for keeping your Doritos or
Walkers fresh and crunchy but make
them impractical to recycle.
“The real problem is that the technol-
ogy to recycle plastic films just doesn’t
exist,” says Mark Miodownik, a profes-
sor of material science at University Col-
lege London, referring to the plastic in
clingfilm, plastic bags, produce bags and
multimaterial sachets. Then there is the
toothpaste tube. Colgate-Palmolive, the
world’s biggest toothpaste maker, has
spent five years working on a recyclable
tube. We currently use roughly20 bil-
lion tubes annually, all of which end up
in landfills or incinerated.
To make the tube easily recyclable,
Colgate had to get rid of the thin layer of
aluminium inside and pick a type of
plastic known as HDPE that was already
being reprocessed by waste-manage-
ment companies.
The polymer scientists tested dozens
of recipes before finding one that allows
people to comfortably squeeze out the
toothpaste, protects the product and
meets the demands of high-speed pro-
duction. More than 100 production
lines in 21 factories worldwide will need
to be retooled. Colgate will start selling
the new tube on its Tom’s of Maine
brand early next year, says Tom Heaslip,
the company’s head of global packaging,
but it will take until 2025 to roll it out to
other brands:
“The conversions take time.” Unfor-
tunately, Colgate-Palmolive’s efforts
will only pay off if it can convince waste-
management companies to see the
tubes as valuable enough to collect and
recycle. “Dealing with the recycling
system is a bigger challenge than
getting the science of the tube right,”
says Heaslip.

Although few in the industry admit it,
the reality is that plastic recycling rates
globally are woefully low. About 8.3bn
tons of plastic has been produced since

the 1950s, but research shows that only
9 per cent has been recycled. The
remainder has ended up in landfill, the
ocean or loose in the environment.
High-income countries often ship
their waste around the world for recy-
cling but some of it is dumped instead, a
problem that intensified last year when
China closed its doors to waste imports.
Unlike glass or metal, plastic packag-
ing cannot be recycled ad infinitum
because it degrades in quality. While sci-
entists are working on so-called
advanced recycling techniques to over-
come this problem, they are not yet
commercially viable. In the meantime,
only14 per cent of plastic packagingis
even collected for recycling.
This reality has led green campaign-
ers to argue that corporate pledges to
make packaging recyclable are a cop-
out. They would rather industry reduce
the volume of plastic used instead. To
date, only one big consumer goods com-
pany has committed to do so:Unilever
aims to reduce annual use of plastic
packaging by about 14 per cent by 2025.
“It behoves the plastic industry to
confuse people. Recycling is bullshit. It
is a fig leaf of consumerism — a way to
appease our guilt,” says Siân Suther-
land, who co-founded the advocacy
group A Plastic Planet.
“We just need to find a way to use less
plastic packaging. It’s a temporary use
for a permanent material, and that’s
never going to be OK.”
Sutherland is not alone in calling for
the industry to step up. Almost half the
65,000 people in24 countries surveyed
by Kantar in September 2019 amedn
consumer goods companies as the most
responsible for taking action on plastics,
ahead of governments or retailers.

Sutherland took this message to
hostile territory in September: a pack-
aging industry conference in London. In
a cavernous hall, manufacturers of per-

fume bottles, thick colourful cardboard
boxes, shiny ribbons and plastic pump
bottles in every size and shape occupied
hundreds of stands.
As they hawked their wares, there was
a lot of plastic. Everywhere. Tucked at
the back was Sutherland’s “Plastic Free
Land”, where the activist had brought
together six exhibitors. They are part of
a wider movement of start-ups and
established players that are trying to
mimic plastic’s best qualities while
using coated-paper products, wood,
cardboard or cellulose-based fibre.
Among them was Sirane, a Shrop-
shire-based company that has created a
line of coated paper-based pouches and
wrappers. Founder Simon Balderson, a
bespectacled physicist whose company
employs 400 people and has five facto-
ries, says they had more success work-
ing with upstart brands than corporate
giants.
He pointed to a bright pink pouch of
nutty granola from gut health start-up
Troo, and a lemon-meringue bar from
Flower & White. “Start-up brands are
willing to take more risks with their
packaging and make going plastic-free
part of the branding,” he says.
Nearby, brothers Sam and Will Boex
explained how their passion for surfing
and experience of transporting boards
around the world (always wrapped in
plastic) led them to invent an extensible
latticed cardboard packaging sleeve.
Their Flexi-Hex packaging is now sold
to various industries that need to pro-
tect large items for shipping.
Others are going down a different
route: making plastic out of biologically
derived materials such as corn, sugar
cane, potato starch or cellulose from
seaweed or trees.
With $46m in venture funding, Israel-
based start-up Tipa has developed a
compostable flexible plastic film made
of bio-materials that can be used to
package everything from coffee beans to
fresh carrots.
Notpla, a London-based start-up, has
pioneered an edible, home-composta-
ble film made of seaweed, which can be
used to package drinks or sauces. Early
trials have included handing out water
pouches at the London marathon, Glen-
livet whisky pods at a cocktail festival
andreplacing plastic ketchup packets in
orders from Just Eat, the UK’s largest
takeaway delivery platform.
As they are not made from fossil fuels,
such bio-based plastics result in lower
carbon emissions — but that does not
mean that all of them simply break
down if they end up in the ocean. Most
need to be composted for 12 weeks at

industrial facilities, using temperatures
of 55C-60C, high humidity and oxygen.
While the UK has some infrastructure
for industrial composting, many facili-
ties still do not regularly accept solid
objects such as bio-based plastic cups. In
other countries the infrastructure
might not be in place at all.
A UK parliamentary study ublishedp
in September voiced concerns: “In the
backlash against plastic, other materials
are being increasingly used as substi-
tutes in food and drink packaging. We
are concerned that such actions are
being taken without proper considera-
tion of wider environmental conse-
quences, such as higher carbon emis-
sions.”
Miodownik, the University College
London professor, argues that bioplas-
tics are not the solution. “I’m all for us
weaning ourselves off of fossil fuels, but
it doesn’t make sense to make a new pol-
ymer that there isn’t a recycling system
for,” he says, referring to PLA, a com-
mon type of bioplastic. “It’s a crazy
thing to bring on the market.”

The deeper you delve into the prob-
lem of plastic packaging, the more you
start to realise that there is very little
consensus on solutions. Every answer
has a rebuttal. Recycling is good! No, it’s
broken. Paper is the answer! It will
never work as well as plastic. Technol-
ogy will save us! It will take years to be
commercially viable. Taxes and regula-
tion are needed! Government interven-
tion is ineffective.
There are a few things, however, that
people do agree on. Consumers need to
be on board or even the best-inten-
tioned efforts will fail. Coaxing out new
behaviour requires learning by trial and
error, something that does not come
naturally to massive consumer goods
companies.
An executive at Unilever says that its
research shows only about 15 per cent of
customers care enough about environ-
mental issues to change their buying
habits, while a further 50 per cent will
only change if it comes at no extra cost
or hassle for them. “Our job is to find
solutions that will work for that major-
ity of customers, the great masses, not
the extremes,” he says. “That is how we
can have real impact.”
The other point of consensus is that
more experimentation is needed with
new models that encourage the reuse of
packaging.
The Ellen MacArthur Foundation
examined more than 100 such initia-
tives ina recent report, from reusable
coffee cup schemes to bulk grocery
shopping, and found that they offered
benefits such as brand loyalty and cost
savings to customers and companies.
More than 40 big companies, including
Mars Inc, PepsiCo and Unilever, are now
experimenting with reusable packag-
ing, according to the foundation.
Loop founder Tom Szaky hopes that
his online shopping service can show the
viability of such models, shifting pack-
aging from being a waste product owned
by the consumer to an asset that belongs
to the manufacturer.
Tesco is expected tolaunch Loop in
February, followed by retailers in the
US, Canada, Germany and Japan. “My
dream is for Loop to be a global platform
for reuse,” he says. “It can be the engine
to help brands and retailers enable this
profound change of moving to a world
where waste does not exist.”
Much will depend on whether this
new breed of refill and reuse products
can appeal to shoppers who value low
cost and convenience above all else. In
all the anti-plastic mania, people seem
to forget a key lesson, says Miodownik,
namely to consider the entire life of a
product from manufacturing to con-
sumption to its disposal as waste.
There is no such thing as a sustaina-“
ble material. There are only sustainable
systems,” he says. “People don’t think
in terms of systems but that’s the
only way.”

LeilaAbboudistheFT’sconsumer
industriescorrespondent

Spectrum


‘It behoves the plastic


industry to confuse people.
Recycling is bullshit. It is a

fig leaf of consumerism — a
way to appease our guilt.

We just need to find a way
to use less plastic packaging’
Sian Sutherland, A Plastic Planet

I


t was one of those rare moments
when the internet, so often a divi-
sive force these days, brought peo-
ple together.
Millions around the world were
glued to a livestream of the online video
gameFortnite,desperate to see what
would happen next. But they were not
following the latest “battle royale”
between celebrity players Ninja and
Tfue. Instead, they were watching noth-
ing more than ablack hole, slowly spin-
ning into the void.
Insert your own cynical metaphor
here for what this says about teenagers

in 2019. But for gamers — of whom there
are an estimated two billion spending
more on their hobby than they do on the
music and movie industries combined
— the launch ofFortnite: Chapter 2 ar-e
lier this month was the biggest cultural
event of the year.
The black-hole event followed a “sea-
son finale” that sawFortnite’s island —
the virtual location for the game’s action
since its initial release in 2017 —
destroyed in a blaze of meteorites and
rockets. For two days, gamers lit up chat
sites with speculation about the next
instalment.

Epic Games,Fortnite’s developer, has
billed the new iteration of the game that
finally emerged from the black hole as
“more fun, less grind”. By far the biggest
change is to the terrain on which each
battle is fought.
The updated island features rivers
and lakes that must be crossed, as well
as new locations including Slurpy
Swamp, the Sweaty Sands beach resort
and Steamy Stacks, a glowing nuclear
power plant. Just as significantly, how-
ever, is that many familiar spots were
taken away completely.
Fortnitemay have started out as a
plain old game but it has become a
stealth social network. Regular players
treat the island as a hang-out spot as
much as a battleground. So Epic’s
destruction of the original island was
like discovering their playground had
been bulldozed or a favourite coffee
shop had suddenly shut down. No won-
der some are already feeling nostalgic
for the lost island of Chapter 1. “Lowkey
gonna miss the old map and every-

thing,” tweeted
Riversan, a pro-
fessional Fort-
nite player with
esports organi-
sation Team
L i q u i d. “ S o
many memories
made on it.”
M a p s h ave
been a defining
fixture of video
g a m e s e v e r
since an 8-bit
Mario shuffled
his way around the Mushroom King-
dom inSuper Mario Bros 3.Grand Theft
Auto ould be nothing without its recre-w
ations of New York and Los Angeles.
Players can explore theLegend of Zelda’s
mythic realm of Hyrule for days without
retracing their steps. The locales in
Assassin’s Creed,JourneyandMonument
Valley ll evoke a distinctive sense ofa
place and mood.
Rarely, though, has one place been as

vital a character
as Fortnite’s
island. Until last
month, the map
evolved incre-
mentally with
the game: ice-
bergs crashed
into corners of
the island, mete-
ors blew up less
popular areas,
sand turned to
snow as summer
gave way to win-
ter. Constant change has been a big part
ofFortnite’s enduring appeal — new “sea-
sons” introduce new themes and, cru-
cially, new things for players to buy.
With the latest changes inChapter 2,
however, the game has made a more
radical metamorphosis. Having created
a unique destination, it took it all away
again. For the people who had come to
call the island “home”, that is both
unsettling and invigorating. It is also a

bold gamble from Epic. The game crea-
tor’s job is like that of a city planner,
striking a balance between property
barons and Nimbys. Update too quickly,
and players won’t have time to master
the new tools at their disposal or learn
their way around the neighbourhood.
Update too slowly, and new games will
tempt people to pastures new.
Fortniteis now setting the pace, not
just for games but for other forms of
entertainment. Its rapid rate of develop-
ment chimes with the shortening atten-
tion span of its (predominantly) young
players. It also attaches a scarcity value
to the world it creates. Amid the abun-
dance of the internet, this is a rare and
lucrative ability. Where today we inge-b
watch marathons of “must-see TV”, so
games such asFortniteand its island set-
ting point to a future of virtual destina-
tions that become “must visit” — before
they are whisked away into the ether.

TimBradshawistheFT’sglobaltechnology
correspondent

Fortnite and the rise of the virtual playground


Tech World Developers are creating a sense of


urgency among players to complete games before


familiar locations are altered. ByTim Bradshaw


âtéP

From left: a
Georganics
toothbrush with
a biodegradable
wooden handle
plus plastic-free
toothpaste
tablets made by
Denttabs;
Waitrose is still
studying the
data from a trial
it ran in its
Oxford store
earlier this year,
which saw it
remove
packaging from
200 product
lines, including
fresh fruit and
vegetables

Above, from
left: a Loop
container for
lentils; Tom’s of
Maine will have
a recyclable
toothpaste
tube devised
by Colgate-
Palmolive
by next year
Photographs by John Gribben

NOVEMBER 2 2019 Section:Weekend Time: 11/20191/ - 15:20 User:adrian.justins Page Name:WIN19, Part,Page,Edition:WIN , 19, 1

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