Recycling Pens: Making My Money Say More

Nothing is quite as satisfying to me as writing a pen down to the last of its ink. About a page before I run dry, the letters become thin and large gaps appear within the words. As I near the end, I think about the work that the pen and I accomplished together. Hours of journaling, songwriting, first drafts, and procrastination doodles. Once my words are long past legible, I call in an alternate and brace myself for emotional impact. Finally, after hesitation and grieving, I throw my pen away.

But…why? I spend hours lovingly utilizing my favorite tool only to consider it trash after a matter of seconds, discarded plastic destined to exist in a landfill long past my lifetime. And that makes absolutely no sense. Why do I throw away a device that works so very well just because it has run empty? I wouldn’t toss an empty nail gun into the trash. I would reload it. So why throw away this tool? The answer is both obvious and slightly depressing; I don’t think twice about one time use plastic.

I use exactly one type of pen; the Pilot G-2 07 in black writes dark and smooth with no interruption in ink distribution. I love this pen. I buy them in bulk and leave them scattered throughout my apartment with the hope that I’ll never be more than an arm’s reach away from starting to write. My cat, Rowena, also benefits from this system. Pens inevitably fall to the ground and quickly become her prey. On countless occasions I’ve enjoyed watching her hunt down my recently dropped pen while I simply reach for another and continue to write.

The first time I saw a classmate deconstruct and reconstruct a ballpoint click pen I considered it a feat of master engineering. I might as well have been watching Nicola Tesla in his workshop. Taking apart a perfectly good pen would have never occurred to me. Despite my naïve first impression, most ballpoint click pens have very simple construction. They easily unscrew to reveal a spring, a tube of ink, and potentially other small odds and ends that fit easily back into place. When the ink has run dry, I only need to replace the empty tube with a full one. The pen is not broken, it is empty.

Diving into this topic, I was excited to argue that the tubes of ink should be sold separately. My cynical view of for-profit companies made the assumption that the reason I had never seen the tubes sold separately was because the manufacturer wasn’t interested in selling a cheaper product. Why sell a tank of gas when you can convince your consumers to throw their car away and buy a brand-new one (complete with a full tank)? After a quick google search, I discovered that, although they are not available on the shelves of my local Target, ink refills are available for purchase. I am not being forced to throw away my beloved pens. I am making the choice to dispose of them.

Now, I will choose to refill my pens. Although the refills are not as convenient to purchase, I will go out of my way to spend my hard-earned dollars letting the market know that I have an interest in the sustainable practice of recycling pens. I cannot force Target, or any other store, to stock the ink refills. All I can do is spend wisely, slightly increasing consumer demand for sustainable products. If money talks, no one hears what it has to say louder than a for-profit company.

What are your dollars telling them?