Dumpster diving isn't crazy - food waste is

My friend Lindy returns from Aldi with bags of oatmeal, salad mix, pecans, organic apples, strawberries, grapes, bananas, avocados, bagels and grape seed oil. She debated whether to take the medicine cabinet organizer and then decided against it, but she did grab the massage balls.

Lindy has never been inside the Aldi, a popular discount grocery store in Delaware. But two months ago, she decided to check out the dumpster behind the store, and now she frequents Aldi regularly or, rather, its trash.

“ While a dive creates the rush of a treasure hunt adventure, exposure to the staggering amount of waste is reason to leave you sick.”

We share amazement for the amount of fresh, free food she gleans from the top of the dumpster (usually in less than 10 minutes). And the amount she had to leave behind. Five-pound bags of apples thrown out because one was bruised. An entire box of ripe avocados. While a dive creates the rush of a treasure hunt adventure, exposure to the staggering amount of waste is reason to leave you sick. (Okay, and there’s the smell.)

Try swallowing these numbers: food production in the U.S. requires 10 percent of our energy budget, is responsible for 75 percent of global deforestation, and uses 80 percent of our freshwater supply. And yet 40 percent of all food ends up in dumpsters and eventually landfills. In fact, uneaten food is the largest component of solid waste in municipal streams. Then there’s the fact that  1 in 7 Americans are food insecure. Dumpster divers like Lindy, who sometimes self-identify as “freegans” are helping to divert at least some of this waste from methane-producing landfills.

Documenting the absurdity

I know what you’re thinking. Digging through trash is a gross pastime for bizarre characters who belong in a Portlandia sketch. But a growing number of people (including me) are finding the environmental and financial motivation for doing so compelling enough to join online communities for support and advice, follow professional divers on social media, and explore our local dumpsters for the first time. The Facebook group “Dumpster Diving Tips and Finds” that I joined has over 15,000 members who share daily excitement over their latest finds.

One look at their impressive hauls and suddenly dumpster divers seem like the most sensible type of consumers in our society. Anna Sacks, a New York City based diver, with a sizeable Instagram following (@thetrashwalker) consistently shows off her hauls from both residential and commercial curbside trash. In a single night digging through the trash at one Starbucks she found nine sandwiches, 15 snack packages, and 18 yogurts, totaling 42 perfectly edible items. All were sell-by that day. Often she’ll share her hauls with family and friends.

William Reid, another diver who can be found on social media (@trash_empire_film) spent just $5.50 on food over two years. He started tracking his food spending after working for Food not Bombs, an organization that collects unsellable food from supermarkets and donates it to food-insecure communities. To make a point about how much perfectly good food is going to waste every day he documented his two-year dumpster diving experience in the 2017 film called “Trash Empire.” He says the food on his plate every night looked no different than an average American’s meal.

“ Both Reid and Sacks use their platforms to draw attention to the absurdity of a lifestyle that’s enabled by a broken system.”

Reid’s mission, however, is not simply to encourage others to dive. Rather, both Reid and Sacks use their platforms to draw attention to the absurdity of a lifestyle that’s enabled by a broken system. We live in a throw-away culture neglecting ingenious solutions like grocery store happy hours, confusing expiration dates for hard rules instead of suggestions, and following absurd policies (or lack thereof) that discourage donating at the retail level.

Taking the dive

Dumpster diving is not for the faint of heart. I went to Aldi, like Lindy, to do research for this story and there was a moment when getting out of my car felt impossible. In the drizzly rain, I anxiously watched Aldi employees dump box after box into the dumpster and wondered if they thought my unfamiliar vehicle looked suspicious in the staff parking lot.

“I took some deep yogi breaths and then pulled my car around closer for a quick getaway.”

Finally, I took some deep yogi breaths and then pulled my car around closer for a quick getaway. Rehearsing the excuses in my head if I got caught (“I’m just looking for boxes!” “The food is for my pigs!”) I left my car running and dashed to the dumpster.  At a glance, I counted at least 10 bags of plastic wrapped bell peppers, another couple of bags of pears, and a box of avocados. I didn’t have the courage to stick around for longer than a minute, but I did snap a picture.

If you are feeling adventurous and like the idea of tackling this food waste problem hands-on (actually, you’ll probably want a pair of gloves), here are the best tips I’ve gathered from my friend and the Internet.

Find a dumpster. It can take a few drive-bys to find the right dumpster.  Avoid compactors and locked dumpsters behind a fence. They’re not worth the trouble of breaking in, so move on to one that you know will be be open (Aldi always has open dumpsters). Some other national chains to target include Trader Joe’s, Food Lion, and CVS.  Local bakeries or your local Panera Bread are a good choice too, since they toss their day-old goods every evening.

Decide when to go. Experimenting with different times of day will help you learn the dumping schedule of your chosen store. Generally, garbage is taken away within the hour before and the hour after closing. If you’re worried about being seen, wait until the sun sets. Another good time to go if you’re not committed to a late-night adventure? When it’s raining.

I hear the few days after Christmas are a gold mine too, since many holiday returns end up in the dumpster.

Bring the right gear. A pair of gloves, some clothes you don’t mind getting dirty, a flashlight or headlight if you’re going at night, and sturdy boxes to transport your haul. You may want to line the back of your car and the trunk with newspaper. Or, if you’re walking, bring a granny cart.

Stay safe. Legality is, admittedly, a gray area. While dumpster diving is legal in the United States, thanks to the 1988 Supreme Court case California vs. Greenwood, which ruled that trash is public domain, state and local regulations may be more strict. You can be ticketed for trespassing if the dumpster is on private property. However, if you do get arrested or ticketed for diving (which rarely, if ever, happens) environmental activist Rob Greenfield says he’s got you covered. He pledges to pay for your ticket and draw media attention to the case.

Stay sanitary. Of course, you’ll want to thoroughly wash any fresh produce you find. Perhaps, with a baking soda soak. Or stick to canned and dry goods (remember to not mind the expiration dates). Use your best judgment to determine whether something is rotten or still useful. If one apple in a bag looks past, you can always sort that out later.

Always be wary of contaminants! Unfortunately, store owners have been known to pour bleach on their trash to discourage dumpster divers.

Overcome stigma/ There is a cultural bias against digging through garbage. The act is associated with poverty and shame. Perhaps that is easy to overcome if you’re motivated by greater environmental principles. Easier still, if you have the privileges of being able-bodied, white, middle-class, free of dietary restrictions, and more, which I think are important to recognize.

Good luck and happy diving!

Emily Castle is a Stone Pier Press News Fellow based in the Greater Philadelphia Area.

Post: Stonepierpress