The COVID-19 crisis has engrossed our attention over health and economic issues, while another issue has been swept under the rug: the plastic pandemic. As Australia is predicted to see a 5% increase in total waste by the end of this year, humans continue to turn a blind eye to one of the biggest threats our modern world is facing. I turn to speculative fiction to discover if our fundamental values are turning humanity to trash.
Last month the Australian Department of the Environment published a report revealing that just 9.8% of plastic is successfully recycled – a glaring wake-up call for the government, who set a new goal for 70% recyclable plastic packaging by 2025. Alas, COVID-19 has trashed this recycling dream, launching a skyrocket in demand for plastic.
From face shields to fast-food containers, our reliance on plastic has been exposed. In a world where J-Lo’s $128 Gucci face mask seems to gain more media attention than the fact that Australians use 10 million plastic straws per day, you wouldn’t be wrong in thinking there is something wrong with our priorities. This plastic pandemic is a bubble waiting to burst – and frankly, our ignorance will be what pops it.
Last month the Australian Department of the Environment published a report revealing that just 9.8% of plastic is successfully recycled – a glaring wake-up call for the government, who set a new goal for 70% recyclable plastic packaging by 2025. Alas, COVID-19 has trashed this recycling dream, launching a skyrocket in demand for plastic.
From face shields to fast-food containers, our reliance on plastic has been exposed. In a world where J-Lo’s $128 Gucci face mask seems to gain more media attention than the fact that Australians use 10 million plastic straws per day, you wouldn’t be wrong in thinking there is something wrong with our priorities. This plastic pandemic is a bubble waiting to burst – and frankly, our ignorance will be what pops it.
So, if setting waste reduction goals won’t be enough, what will? Our values need to shift from apathy to action. Reflection on the world of dystopian fiction provides us with insight into the tragic consequences of society’s ignorance, acting as a black mirror for humankind past and future. Kazuo Ishiguro’s 2005 novel Never Let Me Go and The Truman
Show, directed by Peter Weir (1998), purposefully adjust human’s fundamental values and morals to conceive a dark society in its worst form. When laid parallel to our contemporary world, the stark similarities between the fictional characters’ callous beliefs and our own draws us to wonder: is humanity turning to trash?
When we blissfully ignore the harsh reality others face, probably. Truman’s fans’ refusal to acknowledge their role in his captivity and the insensitive human’s choice to segregate themselves from the clones demonstrate how willful ignorance taints humanity. During Kathy and Tommy’s visit to Madame’s house, Miss Emily’s cavalier description of their society’s choice to keep them “in the shadows” reminds us of the darkness within us all. Ishiguro’s use of shadows to symbolise how the clones were hidden from the light and left to be forgotten, condemns the heartless humans, who would prefer to forget where the organs are coming from by “convinc[ing] themselves that [the clones] weren’t really like [them]”, as Miss Emily explains. While our disapproval of these humans is underpinned by the assumption that segregating and demoralising others is cruel, their belief that the clones aren’t real humans – simply weaker, soulless copies of themselves – doesn’t fall far from the double standards we continue to see in our modern world. Ishiguro’s message is clear: when we blissfully ignore, or worse, reap the benefits of segregation, we are callous.
Much like those ostracising humans, Truman’s fans prefer to ignore the truth behind the comfort of their TV screens. The discussion between two waiters at ‘The Truman Bar’ as they gossip about his love triangle with Meryl and Sylvia, combined with the romantic music overlay reinforce how Truman’s life is a dramatized mockery. The waiters are dressed in striped shirts, in which the connotations between stripes and a jail cell only further highlight how Truman is trapped in a prison, where the perfect sunsets that surround him pose as the walls of his cell. Weir uses this scene to spark our disapproval, as it highlights humankind’s capacity to distance ourselves from the truth for the benefit of entertainment. As viewers with the belief that everyone deserves the right to freedom and privacy, we disapprove of his world where suffering is concealed under the perfect world of Seahaven. Ultimately, capitalising off people’s true issues – whether it be Truman’s love story or the war on waste – draws humanity closer to garbage.
While human cloning and a giant dome in Hollywood may seem far from reality, unfortunately our modern world continues to see ignorance of suffering. As the pandemic increased at-home retail therapy, an online shopping boom has left sweatshops in Leicester to continue operating at 100% capacity throughout the COVID-19 lockdown, just to keep up with the demands of our consumeristic society. So, if profit is still being made, what’s the big deal with supporting the fast fashion industry? The facts. An estimated 170 million underage children are employed in the garment industry – learning to sew and weave rather than read and write. Just as The Truman Show is broadcasted 24/7, these exploited children work 12 hours a day just to satisfy consumer’s relentless demands. And our ignorance speaks volumes: if we have the capacity to ignore child labour for cheap clothes, then it isn’t far-fetched to believe our values really have turned to trash.
Perhaps what is worse than human’s ignorance is when we silence and marginalize the oppressed. Miss Emily’s lack of concern for Kathy and Tommy, and Sylvia’s brave fight to expose the dark truth behind Truman’s life reveal that society turns to trash when we tolerate the confinement of others. Miss Emily’s cruel dismissal of Kathy and Tommy after they nervously approach her pleading for a deferral to extend their lives exposes her blatant lack of concern for the clones’ welfare. By describing them as “pawns in a game”, Miss Emily lowers the clones to a passive game piece on the board of life. This complete disregard for Kathy and Tommy’s emotions is only worsened by the purpose of pawns in a chess game. Much like how pawns are often used as ‘bait’ to obtain more valuable pieces from the opponent, the clones are used solely for their organs, to heal more ‘valuable’ humans. While we are appalled by Miss Emily’s neglect as our morals tell us that everyone deserves freedom from control, it is Kathy’s helpless response – “but for us, it’s our life” – that makes her dismissal of the clones far more devastating. Through Miss Emily’s attempts to justify the human’s treatment through comparison other clones who weren’t so “lucky”, Ishiguro slaps us with the sad, but realistic truth: there is no excuse for the marginalisation of others.
Much like Miss Emily’s negligence, Christof’s manipulation of Sylvia’s attempt to expose his show to Truman demonstrates the callousness of those who belittle advocates. Christof inappropriately scores Truman and Sylvia’s blissful escape to the beach with Chopin’s Romance Larghetto – meaning ‘slow love’ – as a non-diegetic accompaniment. It’s an ironic juxtaposition to the rush between the pair’s relationship as she hastily attempts to free Truman from his trapped existence. Christof’s choice of innocent, romantic piano manipulates and minimises their genuine moment to the cliché teenage love story his audience loves, while concealing the fact that Truman is really living in a utopic jail. Weir uses Sylvia’s brave attempt to reveal this twisted truth – at great personal risk – is what we support here, as we see hope in a society that fights against injustice. Thus, as an audience, we agree that minimising these attempts is inexcusable.
Sadly, we continue to see the silencing of advocates in our contemporary world all too often. Current PM Scott Morrison’s marginalisation of young Australians fighting for environmental justice reminds us that our leaders are still far from ideal. Since 2019, global climate change protests have motivated young Australians to cut school in demand for emergency climate action. But while we should support these brave and courageous kid’s battle to secure their future from global warming, the PM sent students against the protests, advising “more learning in schools and less activism.” Do we really want our leaders to be telling future generations that their activism is has no place in their lives? If we continue to perpetuate the attitude that leaders can silence our voices, our world is just as rubbish as those envisaged by Weir and Ishiguro.
When our fundamental values support a world that choses to ignore and marginalise the suffering, then we are little more than trash. These texts pose as a cautionary tale to the consequences if we become accustomed to injustice. We must change our tune and face the music - let’s drag our morals out from the trash and back to the drawing board so we make better choices for the society of tomorrow.