Technological advances have allowed whey, a once-troublesome byproduct of cheesemaking, to turn into whey powder, lactose and protein concentrates, which can be used in baked goods, infant formula, animal feed and protein supplements. BRENDAN SMIALOWSKI/AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES FILE
By Edward D. Melillo, Amherst College
Federal prosecutors recently described an interstate criminal enterprise with all the trappings of organized crime: clandestine warehouses, money laundering and stolen goods transported across state lines. The mid-September announcement stated that 19 defendants faced charges; two had just pleaded guilty, while the remainder are slated for trial in April.
The stolen material was not drugs, guns or jewels. It was leftover cooking oil.
According to prosecutors, members of the group drove trucks to restaurants in 10 states, siphoned used cooking oil from collection tanks and transported it to depots for resale. The alleged motive was simple: Used cooking oil has value. It can be refined into biodiesel. A viscous fluid that the food industry formerly considered garbage has become valuable enough to spur a large-scale criminal operation.
This oil-theft scheme points to a larger lesson. People tend to think of waste as trash, sewage, slag, manure and other seemingly useless or disgusting substances. But historians, anthropologists and geographers increasingly recognize that “waste” is a category defined by humans. Technologies, markets, laws and cultural assumptions all determine what is discarded, what is kept and why. Waste describes a material’s status, not necessarily its substance.
As an environmental historian who studies how societies transform nature into commodities, I am also interested in the other side of the process: how materials classified as waste can be converted back into things of value.