I’ve worked at coffee shops for a nearly embarrassing amount of time. I hand out hundreds of paper cups a day only to see them in the garbage on the corner just outside my shop when I leave work, which suggests to me that they were used for (and I’ll be generous) twenty minutes.

In the last several years, “green” cups have cropped up — cold cups are made of corn and hot cups are made of potatoes. These cups are compostable, which means that even if they don’t make it into a commercial composting facility to be churned into fertilizer, they won’t sit in a landfill for hundreds or thousands of years. From my year-long stint selling coffee and coffee products wholesale, I know that these cups are substantially more expensive than the ones you get from the bodega. Choosing to sell coffee in these cups is a calculated and deliberate choice to be conscious about the waste produced at a shop.

For some of us, refusing plastic takeout containers and bringing our own bags to the grocery store is something of a hobby. We seek out ways to be more self-sufficient and feel guilty when we forget our Klean Kanteen. For others, it’s an obligation. And for still others, it’s merely a welcome bonus if our coffee cup happens to be compostable.

I no longer work at Think Coffee, but as far as I can tell, it is doing the most of any coffee shop to reduce waste. Think Coffee almost exclusively offers compostable to-go materials. Considering the existence of companies like Greenware, which specialize in these sustainable products, one might think it would be easy to use exclusively compostable goods. It’s not.

The container your salad comes in might be compostable, but those little ones your salad dressing comes in? Maybe not. Your cup might be, but not the straw, because the only compostable straws I’ve seen crunch in your mouth and break easily. Hot lids often shrink and expand with extreme heat, and you asked for your latte extra hot, to which I begrudgingly obliged, but now your lid is dripping, or it split when you put it on the cup. They are designed to break down easily, unlike plastic, but sometimes the breaking down starts a little too quickly, as in while it’s in your hand.

Think Coffee has compostable wax paper, utensils, bags, napkins and clam-shell takeout boxes. But once you’ve got the stuff, you leave.

Think Coffee also has a garbage sorting station, the fanciest of which is at its 8th Avenue location. Each hole is cut in an image of the type of thing that can go in there. While it’s confusing and tedious, it’s the only way to offer the opportunity to care to those who do. And when in doubt, the “landfill” hole is the safe bet.

There is a Portlandia sketch about a garbage sorting station on steroids with color coding and a tiny box exclusively for nail clippings. What they fail to mention is that if you fail to sort your garbage and your stuff doesn’t make it into the composting hole at a Think Coffee location, you can still rest easy that it will eventually decompose somewhere.

Our world is outfitted for garbage. The movie WALL-Eserved as fair warning that our garbage disposal methods themselves are not sustainable. Action Carting, a company that sends garbage trucks around the city picking up contracted shops’ compost, provides a necessary service for shockingly cheap. It surprises me that there aren’t composting cans next to every garbage in the city considering how cheap it is. Farmers’ markets often offer composting stations where you can bring your household waste.

My household compost pales in comparison with the compost gathered at a Think Coffee, which only reminds me how fantastic it is that they put in the effort to make the most use out of everything that comes through their doors. Food scraps, coffee grinds, newspapers (yes, you can compost newspaper) all make it into the compost. The real cost is the effort it takes to initially set up a contract with Action and to order the appropriate goods, and then the time invested in education for employees.

It’s hard to notice when goods we receive are compostable. Other than things we would actually put in our mouths and swallow, cups and utensils are assumed to be garbage. One actually has to read the fine print on cups to notice that they are made from corn. Just as vegetarians often believe that they are exercising their power by simply removing themselves from an action, one can witness the power of removal by refusing to participate in the kind of passive consumerism that occurs when we waste.

I’ve served enough coffees that are left untouched to know that often we consume merely in order to participate in a collective social hobby. The new hobby that has come to the forefront of the hip and trendy is the attention to one’s carbon footprint. Among the foils of the meat industry, people can be overheard discussing their transportation habits, their consumption habits, and ways they reduce waste.

And all this over a cup of coffee.

<About Our Guest Blogger>

Guest Blogger: Mia

Mia Schachter

Mia has been a barista in Los Angeles, Austin, and New York for almost six years. She is part time student at Columbia University’s School of General Studies, studying Philosophy.  She currently works at Irving Farms on the Upper West Side.