Should I get rid of my gas-powered car and get an EV? And other questions for Drippy, the Soggy Paper Straw. by Drippy, the Soggy Paper Straw Illustrations and animation by Karen Hong With The Stranger’s 2025 Climate Issue upon us , many of our (very real and not at all fake) readers have been asking us important questions about environmentalism, and how the many rules of reducing, reusing, and recycling have changed over the years. We asked a J Pod orca if they would help us answer some of these (they have a fair amount of skin in the game, after all), and they told us to go fuck a yacht. Which, fair. Then, one day, on a sweaty afternoon in early spring, we came upon a day-old iced latte rolling around Pike Place Market. In that latte was Drippy, the Soggy Paper Straw. Drippy knows you’re imperfect, but ultimately want to help the planet, and he’s here to lend a lipstick-covered hand. Dear Drippy, I’ve had the same gas-powered car for the past six years. I bought it used, but its gas mileage isn’t terrible. Still, it burns fossil fuels, and I feel guilty every time I get in it. Should I get rid of my gas-powered car and get an EV? —Guilty Gas Guzzler You’re probably asking this question, GGG, because you know there are two things to consider here: the impact of driving your car, and the impact of making it. New stuff takes a lot of energy to make! The general wisdom is that the most environmentally friendly version of something is the one you already have. And for most things (laptops, cell phones, etc.), using them as long as humanly possible is the best way to reduce your environmental impact. Electric cars require huge lithium batteries to run, and mining that lithium has a big ol’ environmental impact. Straight off the production line, an EV has a way bigger carbon footprint, so it’s easy to assume that driving your old, used car is the planet-saving move. But for cars, only 10 percent of its emissions in its lifetime come from manufacturing (compared to, say, an iPhone, which is more than 80 percent). So for cars, the way it’s powered is so much more important. So, if you’re looking to make a change, an electric vehicle might be the way to go. Better yet, how ’bout an e-bike and an ORCA card? Dear Drippy, I know the rules say I need to rinse out my recycling, but it’s a pain in the ass, and honestly, most of these rules turn out to be made up. Is this one of the real rules? How important is it actually to clean out my yogurt container? —Frustrated Recycler Open to Yogurt Options I know it’s annoying, FROYO, but it’s true. You should rinse your recyclables. Is it as serious as people make it seem? Not really. Not on an individual level. But imagine if every household in your neighborhood decided to put a “mostly empty” jar of peanut butter in their recycling bin and, come collection day, all those jars got tossed around and melted their sweet, sweet insides all over the paper and cardboard that’s being collected at the same time. It’d be a mess. And why does that matter? Because, according to the Institute of Scrap Recycling Industries, about 40 percent of all recycled materials are treated and sold to American manufacturers to be reused, and they can’t have more than a 1 percent contamination level. Cardboard, for example, is sold in 660-pound bales and sold for (on average) $35. But if it’s covered in yogurt, oil, and peanut butter? Worthless garbage. Dear Drippy, The Stranger publishes every month now, and it’s too much. I’m buried in them already. How do I throw the paper away responsibly? —Bogged Down by Stranger Mess Technically, The Stranger is recyclable, but I’m sure you already know that, BDSM. So here are a few other suggestions for your piles of [editor’s note: invaluable] paper: Wrapping paper Ransom notes That thing we all did with Silly Putty when we were kids Poorly executed Molotov cocktail Paper-mache—make a piñata of a Trump administration official of your choice Make biodegradable cups for your spring seedlings Wee-wee pads Dear Drippy, I really want to be a mindful consumer in this stupid world, but the garbage bins at my local coffee shop stress me the fuck out. The cups go in one place, the lids in another, it’s different at every shop, and honestly, all of the baristas are hot and intimidating. Do they actually separate everything? Should I be this nervous? —Coffee Under Pressure Look, I’ve been thrown in a lot of trash cans in my day, CUP, and most of them weren’t destined for the compost pile. Should you separate it? Yes! Most coffee shops are doing their damnedest to not fuckup the environment more than we already have. They bought compostable cups, for Christ’s sake. Will you be the first person to toss their cup in the wrong bin that day, undermining the whole effort? Absolutely not! I know they’re intimidating, but ask the hotties behind the bar. They’re the ones cleaning it up at the end of the day, so they always know best. Dear Drippy, I was always taught to unplug my chargers and appliances whenever I use them to try to save electricity. I unplug the toaster when I’m not using it, and wrap the little cord around the base until it’s ready to be used again. I’ve done this since I was a little kid, so I barely even think about it anymore. Meanwhile, my roommate falls asleep with the TV on and refuses to turn off lights when they leave the room. They say I’m fretting over a spark while the world is on fire. Are they right? Does it matter anymore? —TV On Always, Still Trying Let’s start with the lights, TOAST. If you’re still rocking incandescent bulbs, you’re wasting more electricity and money than you need to be. The best thing you can do for your household is get LED lightbulbs—they’re much more energy-efficient and long-lasting. Importantly, they’re also way less hideous than they used to be—you can often dial in the warmth and brightness without feeling like you’re living in an IKEA showroom, and the customizable color ones are honestly sick. There’s an exact math problem you can do with watts and cents, but in general, LED bulbs don’t take much to run at all—you’re probably talking something like a few dollars a month at the most extravagant usage. I’m a straw, so my relationships may be different from yours, but my advice is don’t make a big deal out of this one. When it comes to unplugging devices, things get more complicated. Standby power consumption (or “phantom energy”—oOoooOo) can contribute to higher electricity bills without you even realizing it because little bits of energy are trickling away while the lazy device is just sitting there doing nothing or pretending to be asleep. So yes, unplugging your contraptions will save electricity/money in the long run. How much you’ll be saving will depend on how many you have and how old they are, but according to the US Department of Energy, unplugging appliances like toasters, printers, computers, electric toothbrushes, gaming systems, and chargers can save the average household up to $100 annually. Chargers? Ugh, I know, as if there’s nothing else to worry about. BUT, one of the easiest ways to do this is to use power strips. Power strips minimize your plug load, and then boop, you just flip one button. You didn’t ask, but no one enjoys getting hassled by a stickler so, y’know, let’s do our best and assume others are doing some version of their best as well. Dear Drippy, My pizza box is made of cardboard (recycling), but it’s covered in cheese and grease and rogue olives (compost). I’ve seen people toss it in both. Which one’s right? —Pizza Paralysis Technically, both. Depends if it’s greasy as shit. A clean pizza box goes in the recycling like any cardboard box, although I don’t think I’ve seen a clean pizza box in my life. If darkened by oil stains, or there’s a hardening stretch of cheese clinging onto it for dear life, toss it in the green Yard Waste bins. Don’t be fooled by the little plastic table thingy, though. It’s trash “unless your child can use it as dollhouse furniture,” says the ever-thrifty Seattle Public Utilities. Dear Drippy, How many microplastics do I eat in a day? —Plastic-Vore Curious Estimates vary, PVC, but the answer is never none, according to Sheela Sathyanarayana, associate professor of Environmental and Occupational Health Sciences at University of Washington. Toddlers tend to eat more plastic. So do adults who eat more processed foods. But no matter how many vegetables you eat, and how many chemicals you avoid, everyone in Seattle is ingesting a base level of microplastics from dust in the air. Microplastics are not distinct from plastics. Tires, for instance, may constitute 78% of the microplastics in the ocean; clothes made with synthetic fibers like nylon, acrylic, and polyester shed plastic every time they’re washed. But some cosmetic company bastards have intentionally made small microbead plastics as filler and exfoliants. Microplastics are like glitter and go literally everywhere when released. We find them in the deepest parts of the ocean, on remote islands, embedded in Antarctic sea ice and (maybe) in every human testicle. Microplastics get into our food from the word go because we fertilize our crops with sewage sludge, a nutrient rich byproduct of municipal wastewater. As a result, European farmland may actually be the largest reservoir of microplastics in the world. When the microplastic-y soil runs off into rivers, streams and groundwater, the cycle begins anew. Are we screwed? Dr. Sathyanarayana says we just have to do what we can. You can reduce your exposure to microplastics by eating fresh, unprocessed foods, or filtering your air and water. But the biggest difference will require policy change. That’s the long answer. The short answer? Constantly ingesting microplastics seems totally inescapable, PVC. And it will be until we break the stranglehold single-use plastic has on our day-to-day lives.  Vivian McCall, Emily Nokes, Megan Seling, and Hannah Murphy Winter helped Drippy with their research. ...read more read less