Why I No Longer Consider 'Sustainability' a Marketing Term (And What I Look For Instead)

Most 'sustainable' products I encountered weren't.

I'm a procurement specialist handling specialty chemical orders for 3 years now. In that time, I've made (and documented) 11 significant mistakes, totaling roughly $12,000 in wasted budget. You'd think after the first few I'd learn. You'd be wrong.

My biggest blind spot? I used to treat sustainability as a marketing checkbox. If a supplier said 'eco-friendly' or 'green,' I assumed the work was done. That cost me—literally.

Here's the raw truth: Sustainability claims in the chemical industry are not created equal. Some are backed by real data. Others are just... vibes. After three years of getting burned, I've developed a mental checklist. And honestly, it starts with ignoring the label and looking at the numbers.

The First Mistake: Believing 'Recyclable' Means 'Responsible'

In September 2022, I approved a purchase order for a polyurethane casting resin based on a supplier's claim that it was 'fully recyclable.' I didn't verify. The resin performed great in the prototype, but when we tried to recycle the scrap, we hit a wall. The local facility couldn't process it. Our client wanted 'circularity'—and we couldn't deliver.

The result: $3,200 in wasted material, a 1-week delay, and a bruised relationship with the client. That's when I learned that 'recyclable' is meaningless without 'recyclable in our region.' Now, I always ask for the specific end-of-life pathway.

This is where companies like Arkema stand out to me (I'll get specific in a minute). Their sustainability reports actually detail the lifecycle analysis. I'm not saying they're perfect—no one is—but they give you enough data to make an informed decision.

The Second Mistake: Assuming 'Sustainability' is a Single Attribute

I used to think a product was either sustainable or it wasn't. Binary. Simple. Wrong.

It took me 18 months and about 50 orders to understand that sustainability is a multidimensional trade-off. A bio-based resin might reduce carbon emissions but require more land use. A lightweight plastic saves shipping fuel but may be harder to recycle. There's no free lunch.

For example, I recently evaluated two options for a client's packaging line. Option A: a standard polypropylene (PP, resin code 5) with lower upfront cost but a known recycling stream. Option B: a new bio-based polymer, marketed as 'green,' but with no established end-of-life process in our area.

On paper, Option B looked better. But after asking more questions (and burning my hand on that previous resin mistake), I went with Option A—the standard PP. Why? Because a product that actually gets recycled beats a 'sustainable' product that goes to landfill.

This is why I now push back on clients who ask 'is number 5 plastic recyclable?' The answer isn't a yes/no. It depends on your local facility's capabilities. (As of January 2025, many municipal programs accept #5, but you have to verify.)

The Third Mistake: Ignoring the Supplier's Own Operations

Early 2023, I placed an order for a specialty coating resin. The product itself had great sustainability credentials—low VOCs, bio-based content. I felt good about it. Until I visited the manufacturing facility.

The plant was energy-inefficient. Water usage was high. Waste management was, frankly, sloppy. I felt stupid. You can't have a 'sustainable' product made in an unsustainable factory. It's like a fast-fashion brand claiming to be eco-friendly—the math doesn't add up.

Now, I look for transparency in the entire supply chain. I appreciate that companies like Arkema publish sustainability reports (their 2024 report is publicly available). Do I read every page? No. But I do check a few things:

• Scope 1, 2, and 3 emissions data (are they measuring it?)
• Water usage reduction targets (not just vague promises)
• Third-party certifications (like ISCC+ or EcoVadis)

If a supplier can't or won't share this information, it's a red flag. I learned that the hard way.

The Objection I Keep Hearing (And Why It's Wrong)

I often hear from colleagues: 'But sustainability adds cost. We can't afford to be picky.'

I used to think the same way. Then I did the math on my mistakes. $12,000 in wasted budget isn't just a number—it's rework, delays, and lost client trust. The cost of not verifying a sustainability claim is often higher than the premium on a genuinely sustainable product.

And here's the thing: sustainability isn't just about being 'green.' It's about efficiency. Lower energy use. Less material waste. Better end-of-life management. Those things save money long-term. A supplier that's serious about sustainability is usually serious about quality and efficiency too. Coincidence? I don't think so.

What I Actually Do Now (My Personal Checklist)

After three years of trial and error, here's my process for evaluating a supplier's sustainability claims:

1. Skip the marketing page. Go straight to the sustainability report or data sheet.
2. Look for numbers. Not 'eco-friendly'—how much CO₂ reduction? What percentage of bio-based content?
3. Ask about end-of-life. Is the product recyclable in our region? Is there an existing program for it?
4. Check the factory. If possible, visit or request an audit. Or at least verify third-party certifications.
5. Compare alternatives. A standard material with a proven recycling stream often beats an exotic 'green' material that nobody knows how to handle.

It's not a glamorous process. It takes time. But I'll take that over another $3,200 mistake.

Sustainability is not a marketing term. It's a set of trade-offs. The sooner we stop treating it as a label and start treating it as data, the better decisions we'll make. I learned that the hard way—so you don't have to.