To Plastic, or Not to Plastic? The Ethical Failure of a Wasteful Society
In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, the namesake character grapples with existential questions and various dilemmas. Just as Hamlet contemplates the implications of his actions and their consequences, could one see parallels in our modern society, and how we behave when faced with ethical and moral quandaries? I am left wondering how Hamlet would feel about a recent study titled “Microplastic presence in dog and human testis and its potential association with sperm count …” and our society’s general misunderstanding of (or aloofness to) the true nature of plastic pollution, and its pervasive and escalating impacts all over our planet. Just as corruption permeated the court of Elsinore in Hamlet, plastic pollution has infiltrated ecosystems worldwide, causing harm to wildlife, ecological communities, and ravaging human health. From the top of Mount Everest, to the bottom of the ocean, one cannot escape plastics.
As reported by the National Academies, more than 8 million tons of plastic waste enter our once beautiful and clean oceans every single year. This is the equivalent of dumping a garbage truck full of plastic into the sea every minute, of every day, of every year. Don’t believe me? Think of the dead whale that washed ashore in the Philippines in 2019 with 88 pounds of plastic waste in its stomach; plastic bags, rice sacks, and a real smorgasbord of other plastic poisons. The ocean is critical to the biosphere, and to the 3 billion people whom rely on it as a primary source of protein. Do they deserve this? Is this the best our global community can do? This should be shocking, it should be front page news, but it generally wasn’t, and the persisting plastic crisis isn’t getting the attention is deserves either. The devastating impacts of plastic pollution on marine life should be enough to underscore the urgent need to reduce plastic production and use, and work toward a truly sustainable future. Also, it isn’t just marine life, we simply can look to our own bodies, to our own species. Do we collectively yearn for a future where all human placentas are deemed “plasticentas”? A study has already shown that “microplastics were found in all placental portions: maternal, fetal and amniochorial membranes” (Ragusa et al., 2021). Is this the world we want for our children, our plastic children? As people still go about business as usual in their self-absorbed fantasy of a future filled with happiness and beauty, and nearly (or maybe more than) 400 million tons of plastic are still being produced annually, we may want to take a moment of pause, to really explore our future prospects more deeply. Will we be the ones dropping dead; our bodies, testicles, placentas, and brains overcome with plastic particles? Yes, “… micro- and nanoplastics can reach the brain …” (Prüst et al., 2020).
Our minds here in the United States of America know little of moderation. In 2016 the U.S. contributed more plastic waste to the global trash heap than any other country—more than all of the European Union member states combined. Aristotle once characterized moderation as the balance between the extremes of overindulgence and inadequacy, able to be defined by a person of practical wisdom. Is it practically wise to continue on this consumption-driven, plastic-stained trek toward ecological oblivion? Is it virtuous? Aristotle again philosophized on the concept of virtue ethics, and how the development of moral character was correlated to one’s ability to pursue excellence in one’s actions. Virtuous behavior is essential for us to flourish as a species, and for our societies to heal, and to find balance and harmony. If we apply this to the context of environmental stewardship, shouldn’t we recognize our interconnectedness with the natural world, and to the systems of Earth? Isn’t it virtuous to take responsibility for our actions, for our waste, and to protect Earth? Yes! Because doing so reflects our commitment to ethical conduct and the promotion of—and care for—the common good of all sentient beings on this planet, including the more-than-human world. The moral imperative is quite obvious: to safeguard the natural world for future generations; my children, your children, our children.
The consequences of plastic inaction can be imagined in the form of a bleak and haunting future, or are we already there? How easy it is for us now to imagine a future world where plastic waste essentially dominates our landscapes, rivers, and oceans, further suffocating wildlife and disrupting the fragility of already human-tainted ecosystems. Even if we only consider the health consequences of plastics, it is easy to be quite alarmed; studies linking exposure to the toxic chemicals found in plastics to various health issues, including reproductive problems, developmental disorders, neurodegeneration, and even cancer, should worry us all. The poisoning of our bodies and brains by plastic pollutants threatens the well-being of present and future generations. From hormone disruption to neurological damage, the ubiquitous presence of plastic toxins poses a significant risk to human health that cannot be understated. Beyond the physical harm, allowing such a future to unfold raises profound ethical concerns. It signifies a failure to fulfill our moral obligation to protect the planet and its inhabitants, human and nonhuman, prioritizing short-term convenience and profit over the long-term well-being of both humans and the entirety of the natural world. Allowing plastic pollution to continue unchecked further perpetuates environmental injustice, disproportionately impacting marginalized communities and future generations who bear the brunt of our negligence. Inaction in the face of this crisis not only jeopardizes the health and survival of countless species, including humans, but also undermines our (alleged) fundamental values of compassion, and hopes for intergenerational equity. There is an imperative that we confront the ethical implications of our actions and take decisive steps to address plastic pollution before it's too late.
Aldo Leopold’s concept of the land ethic represents a profound shift in how we perceive our relationship with the natural world. At its core, the land ethic emphasizes the interconnectedness and intrinsic value of all members of the Earth community — not only living beings, but also the so-called 'nonliving': the rocks, rivers, soil, air, and landforms that shape and sustain life. Rather than viewing the land as mere property or resource, this ethic calls us to recognize all elements of the Earth — animate and inanimate — as kin, worthy of respect, reciprocity, and moral consideration.
By recognizing the inherent worth of every component of the ecosystems that support life on this planet, from plants and animals to rivers and mountains, Leopold argues that humans can develop a deeper sense of responsibility toward Nature. Adopting a land ethic can guide human behavior toward more sustainable practices by encouraging us to consider the long-term consequences of our actions on the environment and future generations. Rather than prioritizing short-term gains or individual interests, a land ethic prompts us to make decisions that promote the health and integrity of the entire ecosystem.
Successful examples of individuals or communities practicing the land ethic can be found worldwide, from indigenous cultures living in harmony with their surroundings to modern conservation initiatives that prioritize biodiversity conservation and ecosystem restoration. These examples demonstrate that embracing the land ethic not only benefits the natural world, but also enriches our lives by fostering a deeper connection to the environment and thus promoting a more sustainable way of living on Earth.
Sadly, the truth is that for decades we have been fed the lie and the illusion that recycling and consumer responsibility will solve the plastic crisis. But the reality and the truth is that this crisis was never about waste management or recycling—it has always been about production and consumption. The fossil fuel industry and its profiteers, threatened by the rise of alternative energy, has doubled down on plastic as a financial lifeline. Petrochemical companies are investing billions to expand plastics manufacturing, with production expected to triple by 2060 (OECD, 2022). In fact, petrochemicals—plastics, synthetic fertilizers, and other petroleum-based products—are now the fastest-growing segment of oil demand (Mufson, 2023). As fossil fuel companies hold the line and pivot further toward more plastic, forever, they are attempting to ensure that disposable and single-use waste will continue to smother the planet, all in the name of profits at any cost.
Capitalism requires continuous expansion, and the plastic industry is its perfect embodiment: infinite production of disposable goods, externalized costs borne by the natural world and the public health nexus, and a synthetic and manufactured culture of convenience that keeps consuming, like a cancerous growth; never satiated. We live under an extractive economic system that rewards overproduction while placing the burden of waste primarily on individuals, rather than corporate and state polluters. We are drowning in our own trash.
Good (and necessary) environmental stewardship is not just a policy choice; it is an ethical and moral imperative. Ethical behavior means more than simply reducing waste—it means dismantling the systems that create it. It means challenging the cultural glorification of consumption, rejecting the economic structures that demand perpetual growth, and embracing a vision of society that values repair, reuse, and regeneration over our present, throw-away mindset, writ large.
We stand at a pivotal moment. To continue down this path of unchecked plastic production and consumption is to condemn future generations to an existence of contamination and near certain ecological collapse. But we are not powerless. We can demand policies that curb plastic manufacturing, hold corporations accountable, and build economies that prioritize true sustainability over short-term profit. We can reject the false narrative that recycling is enough, and instead push for systemic change that tackles the root of the crisis.
In Hamlet, the prince ultimately acts—but only after much hesitation, after much suffering. Let us not wait until we are beyond saving to make our choice. To plastic, or not to plastic? That is not just a question. It is one of the defining moral decisions of our time.