In May 2024, researchers at the University of New Mexico tracing the presence of micro- and nanoplastics in the human body revealed that every individual tested in their study was found to have such particles present in their reproductive system. A year earlier, scientists at the School of Public Health in Guangzhou had discovered the same particles in the hearts of cardiac surgery patients, and in 2022, researchers from the Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam traced the toxic particles in the blood of around 80% of test subjects. The widespread use of single-use plastics and chemicals such as Bisphenol A (BPA) means that it’s highly probable that the majority of human and non-human bodies already or will carry micro- and nanoparticles of toxicants—artificially produced chemical compounds that can have significant health effects, even at low dosages. Toxicants alter bodies, and—besides being the result of a worrisome cycle of extraction—play a part in creating and shifting paradigms of disability, race, and sexuality.[1]

As more attention is being paid to the amount and cycles of what is thrown away, often neglected is the related issue of what remains after and manifests through these acts. Namely, the toxic compounds seeping into the earth, which then have the potential to be reabsorbed and consumed by bodies. This damage is effectively irreparable; even if a solution was found to magically halt all problematic forms of extraction and emission, the toxicity exuding from what has already been discarded will endure long after the waste itself has disappeared from view. The structural arrangements facilitating these discard processes, rather than the mere existence of waste itself, thus overburdens humans and non-humans disproportionately across locations.

Living on an intoxicated earth requires the abandonment of the notion of a return to untroubled, ‘natural’ landscapes; it is only by engaging with and working with the intoxicated earth as is that restorative intervention and cycles of production can be enacted. Following the A Participatory Planet’s Unearthing, Consuming, and Growing phases, Discarding tackles the multimodal realities of being alive on an intoxicated planet. It proposes to embody, collectivize, and reorganize the focus of discarding towards practices and responsibilities of disposal and maintenance—without regarding the waste dump as being outside of these relations.

Shifting the focus from the ‘what’ to the ‘how’ of throwing away allows for a different model to emerge, whereby ‘throwing away’ does not entail a relinquishment of responsibility for materials, beings, and places—either at a specific point in time or in the form of ongoing neglect. A focus on the relations inherent to discarding therefore presupposes that waste and wastefulness are generated by political processes and systems, and that a renewed engagement with materials within this cycle can lead to new ideas of value and responsibility.

In this final phase of A Participatory Planet, participants come together to revisit the relationships inherent to discarding. How can waste be recognized and defined, and how can it be rethought  in relation to questions of reuse, repair, accountability, and ongoing engagement?

[1] See, for example: Mel Y. Chen, Intoxicated: Race, Disability, and Chemical intimacy across Empire (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2023); Shailja Chourasia and Priyankar Pal ‘Impact of chlordecone exposure on reproductive system: A concise review’, Intentional Journal of Biology Sciences, 6/1 (2024), 124–28

With contributions from:

Valerian Blos, Anwesha Borthakur, Mel Y. Chen, Choo Yi Feng, Sena Dagadu, Gosia Lehmann, Josh Lepawsky, Leeroy New