Sitting in my office many nights, weekends, and holidays, and writing about waste was something of a wrenching experience. As anyone who has taken the lid off their reusable coffee mug to see the remnants of last week’s latte staring right back at them knows, living a low-waste life is challenging for those of us who grew up in cultures of disposability. We make decisions about what we throw out, what we recycle, and what we buy or do not buy in the first place all the time, although we do not always think about the consequences of our decisions. This often means those discarded items are shipped to places overseas to be dismantled or recycled and resold.

This book is designed to make these journeys visible. It draws attention to the global markets that exist for discarded goods, and the livelihoods that depend on extracting value from what others have thrown away. It also makes visible the risks attendant on this new resource frontier, the growth of global activism around waste and recycling, and how actors engaged in governing these transactions are responding. It is less about individual consumer choices and behavior than about the systems in which our practices are embedded.

I am writing this at a time when levels of wastes – particularly plastic wastes – are higher than they ever have been on global, national, and local political agendas, and it is clear that a lot will change over the next few years. It is also true that I have had to leave a lot out of this short book (readers are encouraged to follow up on issues that interest them on their own). Despite all the challenges and problems, at the end of this writing process I felt moderately optimistic about our ability to address the global waste crisis, even if we can’t solve it.

Despite all the hours of solitary writing, this book is really the product of many interactions and conversations. One of the things I enjoy about working on waste is that anyone I talk to, anywhere, about what I do has a story to tell or a comment to make. Many of these made it into this book or informed the directions I chose. Therefore, first of all, I would like to thank everyone who took the time to engage with me at conferences and presentations, in class and on campus, at the gym, at airports, in restaurants, on hikes, etc., over the past several years and share their experiences and opinions on the topics in this book.

For particular help with reading, editing, and commenting on draft chapters, my special thanks to Alastair Iles, Erin Bergren, Raul Pacheco-Vega, and Manisha Anantharaman. I would also like to acknowledge my undergraduate research assistants, including Leila Hooshyear, Sierra Westhem, and Aubrey Hills. Thanks to Peter Dauvergne, Shannon Davis, Emily Polsby, Freyja Knapp, Louise Mellor, Aaron King (Seven Seas Hauling), Amy Mason, Scott Silva, Anna Yip, and the UC Berkeley Zero Waste community for inspiration. Josh Lepawsky and the editors at Welt-Sichten: Magazin für globale Entwicklung und ökumenische Zusammenarbeit helped me with figures and data. Jenny Weeks at The Conversation published my earlier pieces on China and Operation National Sword, which I drew on extensively. Likewise, many great people in the waste and discard studies communities on Twitter helped me out at various times with many queries, small and large, and I am immensely grateful for this community. Thanks also to Louise Knight, Sophie Wright, and Nekane Galdos at Polity Press for being so patient with me, and to two anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments.

Finally, thank you to my husband, Wil Burns, for helping out with ideas, support and logistical advice at many times during this process. Not to mention putting up with my ongoing commentary on what we should or should not be recycling (and in what condition) at any given moment.