Nobody Asked About the Science

Last March I got to be part of a life-changing sailing journey. The motto aboard the round-the-world sailing expedition to raise awareness of the plastics crisis was “making the unseen seen.” I joined as crew for a portion of the journey, sailing from Rapa Nui (Easter Island) to Tahiti. The crew consisted mostly of scientists including marine biologists, a recycling expert, a hazard waste manager, an anthropologist, and an environmentalist from Rapa Nui. We represented four continents. Most of us had saved for the past year to sail, and considered it an experience that would shape our careers.

We dubbed the afternoons “science time,” when we sampled the sea for microplastics by deploying a trawl. Its metal wings and broad mouth resembled a manta ray earning it the name manta trawl. We collected samples from the surface, and then used a “niskin bottle” to test deeper water. We hoped that finding tiny pieces of plastic out here would help us answer what types of items were polluting the ocean and where they originated. If we knew where the plastic was coming from, we could come up with solutions at the source. We also met for workshops to brainstorm solutions, discussing the roles governments, industries, and individuals might play. Listening to women talk about plastic and waste laws the EU had passed inspired me. Even if environmental laws in the U.S. were moving in the wrong direction, other parts of the world were advancing environmental standards.

Then the Corona virus heightened, and we talked about the plastic crisis less. We became more concerned about gleaning details of the news that trickled to the boat and less about what the samples might tell us. Or how we might collaborate across industries and cultures to solve the plastics crisis.

Back at home all the news featured Corona virus statistics. The only part of my trip friends and family asked me about was what I’d known about the virus and how I’d managed to return home. Nobody asked about the science. Do all the pressing problems disappear during a pandemic? Maybe it was spending too much time in quarantine, but I couldn’t stop thinking how even with the virus, plastics still made there way into the sea where the sun and salt water was breaking it down into polymers that attracted harmful chemicals. These tiny pieces of plastic looked so much like phytoplankton that shrimp and other sea creatures were eating. Once they entered the food chain, they’d eventually end up in our bodies. If the virus didn’t kill me, sooner or later the plastic would. I didn’t want to add to the collective fatigue and overwhelm by reminding everyone that the plastic crisis continued to grow even now, but doing nothing felt complicit.

Pandemic fatigue sidelined a lot of my immediate plans. I made a list before leaving the boat that including working with local non-profits to connect microplastics to life in the mountains. I felt defeated, and it took me months to work out that I had to let go of any standard of perfection. I lived in a messy world that had just gotten a whole lot messier. I’d have to readjust my expectations that I was going to revolutionize the way people in the mountains thought about plastic pollution. I was going to have to let go of my own goals to live plastic free. In the process I became more realistic about what I could do and become mindful about small changes. Instead of buying new clothes I’m having the holes in my clothes mended. I am buying produce from a friend who runs a micro-farm and she sells me greens that aren’t wrapped in plastic. I’ve cut out plastic containers in the shower by using shampoo, conditioner, and soap bars. I’m a reusable period product convert.

These small tweaks aren’t going to solve the plastic crisis. Not all at once. When I feel demoralized, I think about the other women I sailed with, all making changes in their countries. Some in closer to the source by changing the way plastic is made and how it can be recycled. Some in countries with governments supporting reducing plastic consumption. My contributions, however small, buoy their work. Perhaps in some small way, my words or actions will inspire someone else to make a change, no matter how small. When we stack all those seemingly insignificant shifts across the globe, we can shift the trajectory of the planet’s health.