Before Plastic, Bharat managed waste in a closed loop. Banana leaves served as plates; once used, they were discarded on the ground. Cows ate them, birds used scraps for nests, and the rest naturally decomposed.
Anjalai Pettis were utilized instead of plastic containers for spices, pulses and powders
Kolam with rice flour, fed ants and sparrows. Littering was not a problem because nothing lingered. And littering was good for Bharat Mata, her residents, animals, birds and insects.
Plastic and paper changed the equation.
Introduced widely after the 1950s and accelerated by economic reforms in the 1990s, single-use items replaced biodegradable ones. The habit of casual disposal remained. India now generates 3.5 million tonnes of plastic waste annually; less than 60 percent is collected in urban areas.
Rivers carry 1.4 million tonnes to the sea each year. Animals ingest plastic—over 1,000 cows die monthly in urban India from gut blockages.
The practice is ingrained. Public spitting, often tied to paan or gutka, affects 267 million tobacco users. Surveys show 70 percent of citizens admit to littering despite awareness of harm.
Bins are scarce, collection inconsistent, recycling below 20 percent. Norms treat open spaces as disposal sites.
Can Habits Change Quickly?
No. Behavioral science indicates habits formed over generations resist instant reversal. Context drives action—without bins or enforcement, littering persists.
Singapore took two decades of fines, education, and infrastructure to shift norms. India’s Swachh Bharat reduced open defecation from 60 percent to under 10 percent in nine years, but that required sustained campaigns and subsidies.
Littering and polluting lack similar focus. Expectations must be phased.
In five years: 20–30 percent of urban adoption of reusable items via apps and peer norms. But who are we kidding? With people changing phones, smart watches every 2 years, fast fashion fuelling use and throw clothes, all these go to a dump from your dustbin.
Let’s not forget plastics from rising food deliveries.
In 20–30 years: 70 percent compliance if schools embed waste education and cities install segregation systems.
Rural areas will lag without economic incentives. But rural areas generate much less waste per person than urban areas.
Voluntary change alone is insufficient. Mild assertion—community monitoring (ratting out people), corporate-funded recycling—accelerates progress.
Bans without alternatives fail; 2022 single-use plastic rules remain unevenly enforced.
Who Bears Responsibility?
Not Indians alone. Colonial trade introduced packaged goods; global firms market disposables without end-of-life plans. Governments delayed waste systems; corruption diverts funds. Producers externalize costs. Individuals act within constraints—poverty prioritizes convenience over ecology.
Plastic is projected as the best option for eating “avoid infection, getting sick.” Traditional copper is costly. Leaf plates leak and labor intensive to make.
Change is not impossible, only slow without structure. Reviving biodegradable traditions while building modern systems offers a viable path. Start with one replacement today; scale through policy tomorrow.
Indians have no option but to change our traditions. These are disadvantages of a unipolar world where Western policy, ideas and notions dominate.
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