Disposable Ethic

Day 117: Some of you will have heard this tale of woe already, so I'll try to keep the recap brief. Suffice to say that at roughly a week past the 30-day return period, the bread maker I bought myself for Christmas ceased functioning and Amazon refused to make an exception to their policy even though I'd only used it four times, the last three of which were failures. For $80, I'd expected to get more than one edible loaf of bread out of it, if you take my meaning. They told me to contact the manufacturer. I did so this morning, and they're sending out a replacement, no return required. So what am I to do with a dead bread machine? The representative told me to just throw it in the garbage.

And there you have a glimpse of a rapidly growing problem: the disposable ethic. A century or so ago, companies took pride in the longevity of their products. "Built to last" was even Ford Motor Company's motto (it's changed now). Parent passed along items they'd used their entire lifetimes, giving them to children and grandchildren because they were still serviceable. In fact, I am still using many kitchen items which were my mother's and grandmother's, handed over to me when I was a newlywed some many decades ago. My cookie sheets are older than I am. My grandmother's music box, over 100 years old now, still plays a perfect tune. So today when I was told to throw the five-week old bread maker in the bin, I was sickened at the thought. Our landfills are overflowing. Our garbage lines the streets, to say nothing of trails and waterways. If companies would only build for permanence instead of profit, what a better place this world might be! If I had a grandchild, I might be proud to leave them my "antique" muffin tins, but I cannot be proud of the society which is leaving them a world covered in trash.