Plastic Isn’t the Polluter. We Are

Are you guilty of taking plastic bags for your regular grocery shopping, or do you do the right thing and carry your own?

Recently, I was addressing a group of young people at a seminar. Most of them were students. The topic of the session was “Beat the Plastic Pollution”. I began my speech with a deliberately provocative statement. “Plastic does not create any pollution,” I said. Then I paused and asked, “Do you all agree?”

The room instantly filled with confusion. The audience looked at one another, clearly perplexed. Whispers began to ripple across the hall. A few students seemed almost amused, while others appeared genuinely disturbed. “Sir, your topic for this lead lecture is Beat the Plastic Pollution,” someone murmured. “And you are saying that plastic does not create any pollution. How is that possible?”

I let the moment linger. Once again, I asked them, “Do you agree?” This time, a few hands went up. One student spoke confidently. “Sir, extensive research shows that plastic has become one of the worst pollutants. It is creating life-threatening conditions across the globe. In that case, how can you say plastic does not cause pollution?”

They were absolutely right. I had anticipated this response. That question was precisely what I wanted to provoke. I smiled and told them that before answering, I would describe a scene all of us have witnessed many times in our daily lives. Then I began narrating that familiar, everyday sight.

My wife and I had gone to buy vegetables and fruits from a local vendor near our home. As expected, the place was crowded. Many people were busy selecting produce and bargaining over prices. It was a familiar, everyday scene.

One thing, however, stood out clearly. Only a handful of customers—including us—were carrying a cotton thaila or a bag made of cloth. Most others had arrived empty-handed. They carried nothing except their wallets, ready to pay and walk away.

After we finished choosing our vegetables, the vendor acted almost instinctively. In a fraction of a second, he pulled out a brand-new plastic bag from a pile hidden beside him—despite the fact that plastic bags are banned. Before we could react, he had already started putting our purchases into it. His hands moved so swiftly that it felt like a reflex action, learnt and repeated countless times.

My wife reacted immediately. She stopped him mid-action and handed over the cloth bag we had brought from home. Seeing this, I spoke aloud so others nearby could hear. “Bhaiyya, plastic ki thaili mat diya karo kisiko bhi… ye galat hai.” (Brother, please don’t give plastic bags to anyone… it is wrong.)

The vendor looked at me helplessly and replied without hesitation. “Kya kare sirji, yadi main plastic bag nahi dunga, to log mujhse mera maal kharidenge nahi. Fir mera dhandha kaise chalega?” (What can I do, sir? If I don’t give plastic bags, people won’t buy from me. Then how will my business survive?)

I glanced around, hoping that people nearby would pause and reflect. I thought they might realise that what they were doing was part of the problem. But that hope quickly faded. Those who had not brought their own bags showed no interest in the conversation. They neither listened nor reacted. The vendor, meanwhile, continued obliging them, handing out plastic bags one after another.

Among the crowd were a few parents accompanied by their school-going children. I decided to speak to one such family. I gently asked why they had not carried bags from home.

The child answered candidly, almost casually. “Uncle, why should we take the trouble of carrying those clumsy-looking bags when these lightweight, see-through bags are so easily available?”

Then came a remark that stayed with me. The child added, “We can use these bags for storing our household garbage and then throw them into the dustbin or directly at the roadside garbage dump.”

That response, innocent as it sounded, revealed just how normal and unquestioned plastic use had become—even in young, educated minds.

I will pause my narration here. What happened next? You’ll have to wait until next Saturday to find out.

Until then, enjoy a wonderful last weekend of the year 2025.

(The author is an environmentalist. Views Personal.)