Researchers in Australia want to transform single-use masks into road material. In the US, the protective gear is recycled into benches. And in France, they are reborn as floor carpets for cars.
Used to curb the spread of COVID-19, masks are exacerbating another pandemic: plastic pollution.
Around 129 billion disposable masks are used every month around the world, according to the American Chemical Society.
Photo: AFP
Made out of polypropylene plastic material, elastic and metal, used masks are usually thrown out in garbage bins, destined for landfills, or incinerated.
They are also littering streets, rivers and oceans, harming wildlife.
But researchers and companies are looking for ways to put masks to good use, though it is not a very profitable venture at the moment.
In Britain, several hospitals have acquired a compactor made by Cardiff-based Thermal Compaction Group which melts protective gowns and surgical masks into blue slabs.
The material is then used to make garden chairs or tables.
In France, Tri-o et Greenwishes, a recycling company, picks up masks tossed in special bins used by some 30 customers, including Parisian hospitals, TV network TF1 and building materials giant Saint-Gobain.
“We had a lot of demand from our clients” to offer mask recycling services, said company president Matthieu de Chanaleilles.
The company charges fees starting at US$300 per month to collect the trash.
At its recycling plant, staff wearing protective gear stand behind plexiglass to sort through paper tissues, gloves and cups that are thrown in mask bins by accident. Afterward, the workers are sprayed down with disinfectant.
The sorting area is sterilized with ultraviolet lamps. Masks are kept in quarantine for a week before being handled. Two companies based in northern France then shred the masks, disinfect them and extract the polypropylene, which is transformed into pebbles that are used to make floor carpets or other plastic parts in a car.
Tri-o et Greenwishes has recycled one tonne of masks so far and hopes to have processed 20 tonnes by the end of the year.
It’s a drop in the ocean of masks.
Some 40,000 tonnes of masks were binned in France last year, without a recycling option, according to a January parliamentary report.
Making the venture profitable is a challenge.In Trenton, New Jersey, TerraCycle sells a “zero waste box” for disposable masks for US$88.
The masks are then sent to partner facilities to be recycled into plastic granules that are sold to manufacturers that make other products such as benches, flooring surfaces or shipping pallets.
TerraCycle chief executive Tom Szaky said recycling personal protective equipment is costlier than aluminium.
“Why is, say for example, a dirty diaper, or PPE not recyclable? It’s because it costs much more to collect and process and the results are worse. So no one would bother doing it because there’s no money to be made,” Szaky said.
“So Terracycle’s business says ‘Well, if someone’s willing to pay those actual costs, then we can perform such a service’,” he said.
In Australia, researchers at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology are experimenting with other solutions after being inspired by the sight of masks littering the streets.
Once disinfected and shredded, masks can be mixed with processed building rubble to create a flexible and robust material to help build roads, according to the scientists.
The researchers are now investigating their use in construction cement. Three million masks are need to make 1km of road.
“The facemasks have a good tensile strength; they can provide tensile strength to the concrete, which is very important,” Mohammad Saberian, a post-doctoral research fellow at RMIT University, said.
“We’re currently looking for partners to use the face masks in real-world applications and to make kind of a pilot road,” Saberian said.
Since publishing the research earlier this year, several industries have expressed interest, and the team was now applying for funding to further investigate the findings, which could take one to two years, he said.
When nature calls, Masana Izawa has followed the same routine for more than 50 years: heading out to the woods in Japan, dropping his pants and doing as bears do. “We survive by eating other living things. But you can give faeces back to nature so that organisms in the soil can decompose them,” the 74-year-old said. “This means you are giving life back. What could be a more sublime act?” “Fundo-shi” (“poop-soil master”) Izawa is something of a celebrity in Japan, publishing books, delivering lectures and appearing in a documentary. People flock to his “Poopland” and centuries-old wooden “Fundo-an” (“poop-soil house”) in
Jan 13 to Jan 19 Yang Jen-huang (楊仁煌) recalls being slapped by his father when he asked about their Sakizaya heritage, telling him to never mention it otherwise they’ll be killed. “Only then did I start learning about the Karewan Incident,” he tells Mayaw Kilang in “The social culture and ethnic identification of the Sakizaya” (撒奇萊雅族的社會文化與民族認定). “Many of our elders are reluctant to call themselves Sakizaya, and are accustomed to living in Amis (Pangcah) society. Therefore, it’s up to the younger generation to push for official recognition, because there’s still a taboo with the older people.” Although the Sakizaya became Taiwan’s 13th
Earlier this month, a Hong Kong ship, Shunxin-39, was identified as the ship that had cut telecom cables on the seabed north of Keelung. The ship, owned out of Hong Kong and variously described as registered in Cameroon (as Shunxin-39) and Tanzania (as Xinshun-39), was originally People’s Republic of China (PRC)-flagged, but changed registries in 2024, according to Maritime Executive magazine. The Financial Times published tracking data for the ship showing it crossing a number of undersea cables off northern Taiwan over the course of several days. The intent was clear. Shunxin-39, which according to the Taiwan Coast Guard was crewed
For anyone on board the train looking out the window, it must have been a strange sight. The same foreigner stood outside waving at them four different times within ten minutes, three times on the left and once on the right, his face getting redder and sweatier each time. At this unique location, it’s actually possible to beat the train up the mountain on foot, though only with extreme effort. For the average hiker, the Dulishan Trail is still a great place to get some exercise and see the train — at least once — as it makes its way