Sustainable Plastics? Why That Phrase Might Be Misleading
We are told to celebrate progress. Recycled carpet. Bio-based vinyl. PVC-free panels. “Carbon-negative” fibres. It is easy to believe that we are solving the problem. And yet — for all their promising labels, these “sustainable plastics” are still plastic. Still synthetic. Still manufactured. Still lingering.
This post is not an attack on innovation. It is a reflection from within. I have been on my own journey lately — rethinking the presence of plastic in my life, both professionally and personally. What started as an architectural question (“Is this material good for me?”, see last blog post) has become something far more all-encompassing. Because once you start looking, you cannot stop seeing it.
And the truth is, despite all the best intentions, plastic is not the answer. Even the greener kinds.
The Allure of ‘Better’ Plastics
The architecture and interiors industries are shifting. We see manufacturers offering:
Bioplastics made from corn or sugarcane
Recycled PET used in carpet fibres and insulation
PVC-free vinyls with green labels
Carbon-negative polymers proudly certified and verified
These options are often positioned as breakthroughs. “No more guilt,” they seem to say. But guilt is not the only thing that needs to be shed. We need to look deeper.
The Deeper Problems Remain
1. Microplastics Don’t Discriminate
All plastic sheds. Whether it is derived from petroleum or plants, whether it is virgin or recycled, these particles break down invisibly over time — released into air, soil, water, and bodies. Plastic fibres are now found in our bloodstreams, lungs, placentas, and even our brains.
2. Hidden Additives Still Lurk
The polymer is just the beginning. To make plastics flexible, fire-resistant, durable, or colourful, manufacturers add plasticisers, stabilisers, flame retardants, and antimicrobial agents. These chemicals leach. Many are endocrine disruptors. Some are not disclosed.
3. Recycling Is Not a Solution — It’s a Delay
Despite what we are led to believe when we drop plastic into the recycling bin, the reality is sobering: the vast majority of plastic is not recycled. Globally, less than 10% of plastic waste is successfully reprocessed. Most of it ends up in landfill, is incinerated, or escapes into the environment.
Even when plastic is recycled, it is typically downcycled — turned into lower-quality products that cannot be recycled again. Many of these items include additives, dyes, or bonded materials that make future processing nearly impossible. Worse still, the infrastructure and energy required to recycle plastic at scale often outweigh the benefits.
Recycling is not a closed loop. It is a hopeful gesture in a broken system. And while it may ease our conscience, it does little to stop the ongoing flood of synthetic materials entering our world.
4. The Aesthetic Disconnect
Plastics, even the sustainable ones, feel different. They carry no memory of earth, growth, or decay. They lack grain, texture, scent. In a biophilic world, they do not breathe with us. They do not wear beautifully. They resist time rather than growing with it.
Why We Still Use Them
Because plastic is convenient. It is durable, affordable, lightweight. It resists mould and stains. It promises low maintenance and high performance — music to the ears of developers, specifiers, and budget managers.
And let’s be honest: it is hard to say no to convenience when the alternative feels more costly, more time-consuming, more “fragile.”
Especially when the packaging tells you it is green.
But we must ask ourselves: green compared to what?
A Better Question
Instead of asking whether a plastic product is sustainable, perhaps we need to ask:
Can it return to the earth without harm?
Will it improve the lives of those who make it?
Will it nourish the senses — touch, smell, sound?
Will it age gracefully, or simply resist decay?
Would I want to live with this material for the next 100 years?
Would I want my children to?
That is where biophilic design begins: not in decoration, but in choosing materials that belong. Materials with life, story, and safe endings.
Where We Go From Here
This is not about plastic shaming. Most of us live and work in spaces that are full of plastic, and many “natural” alternatives come with their own impacts. But we do have choices.
Choose fewer layers: Reduce complexity in assemblies.
Specify natural: Timber, wool, cork, clay, stone, linseed oil paint.
Embrace care: Maintenance is not failure; it is connection.
Design for disassembly: Avoid bonded composites.
Educate clients: The ‘cheap’ option is often not the cheapest in the long run.
Buy less: Let fewer things mean more.
It is not about perfection — it is about intention.
A Personal Note
This year, I began a quiet project: reducing or removing plastic from my own life. Not just in buildings, but in my home — the packaging, the clothing, the cleaning products, the toothbrush. It started with curiosity. Then came awareness. And now, it feels like Pandora’s box. Once you start noticing, plastic is everywhere.
Even the products that claim to solve the problem are often part of it. But I am not giving up. I am choosing to remove plastic from my life as much as I possibly can — even if my family are not quite on board yet. And that is okay.
It can feel overwhelming at the start, but by tackling one area at a time, one item at a time, real change begins to take shape. We do not need to wait for perfection. We just need to move — thoughtfully, honestly, and with care — in a better direction.
Because if we can learn to live without plastic, we can learn to live more closely with the earth. And that, to me, feels like architecture worth working toward.