Cradle to Cradle

Not only did McDonough and Braungart write the book Cradle to Cradle, but they created the term. Their company MBDC, founded in 1995, prides itself on its “cradle to cradle design” that “maximizes ecological and social benefit” (according to their website). But in their book they are not trying to sell their own products or have us simply buy into their ideology; they purpose themselves to gives us new eyes with which we can see the world, its natural processes, and what we can learn from it.

Not many appeals to ethos are needed, seeing as the authors essentially established the idea. The main question they need to answer is if their idea really works. They establish credibility by again and again pointing to real life examples of each system they discuss (the beginnings of a polymer based book, an ecologically and people friendly building, the garden roof). They point to their involvement with tiny phrases including “when Michael tested it” (p. 72) alluding to his scientific literacy, and “Bill’s firm led the team that designed it” (p. 75). Interspersing practical solutions with information about nature’s way of working and current inefficient (or they would say in-effective) products based on our way of working allow them to demonstrate their knowledge of a myriad of topics.

The major literary strategy used is contrast, which allows the reader to emotionally see the logic behind these new, innovative developments. From the beginning, the duo attempts to paint a picture of the practical, typical, well-loved hardcover book, revealing its effects to the environment with words like “some of the most dangerous cancer-causing material ever created by humans.” Then the eco-friendly book is presented as a positive, sustainable alternative, with a happy, hippy vibe, but alas it too is toxic, unappealing and almost unreadable. McDonough and Braungart’s fresh idea of a waterproof, perfectly recyclable, easy to read, attractive book with “sheer tactical pleasure” stands in stark contrast to the other pictures they painted and then smudged with truth. But the ink on the polymer pages “won’t rub off on the reader’s fingers.” By using words like “sensuous smoothness” they apply their ideas to the reader’s emotions (pathos) while pointing to the sheer practicality of what they’re saying (“this book is durable enough to last for many generations”).

They repeat this tactic in the discussion of the “energy-efficient” building as they point to the drab, dreary, dark, musky feeling of a traditionally energy-efficient office and replace it with sun-roofs, natural airflows, grassy roofs, lots of light, and the ability to control the “flow of fresh air and the temperature of their personal breathing zones.” This option is obviously (in part to an emotional response and in part to a logical response) the superior of the two. Yet again it is the practical option as well, seeing as the workers are more likely to stay. Plus, it was build for “only 10 percent” more than a standard building would have cost. McDonough and Braungart, you are quite convincing!

Another contrast they draw on is the difference between eco-efficiency and eco-effectiveness. Defining these terms they demonstrate the difference between “making the wrong things less bad” versus actually working on the right things to begin with. This is logical (“Once you are doing the right things, then doing them ‘right’… makes perfect sense.”) and makes the reader want to be logical and not to simply continue floundering in the uselessness of working with the wrong model to begin with. This innovation and creativity is an appealing proposal. By comparing our humanly ideas of efficiency, with nature’s plan for effectiveness (illustrated through the cherry tree), McDonough and Braungart cater to the beauty (even if it’s messy) and practicality of nature’s way. Then, again, they contrast this to what the natural world would look like if it were to use “the human model of efficiency”, starting out with things like fewer cherry blossoms, which would lead to fewer songbirds. Then they hit the clincher by saying that this would bring about “less diversity, less creativity and delight.” By pointing to some of the things that humans cherish as ‘inefficient’ they hold the reader’s attention and help us to begin to break out of this mold which we have created, and which seems so undesirable.

In the discussion of growth they contrast the growth of nature (described as “beautiful and healthy”) to the growth of industrial cities, which they say is often referred to as “cancer.” Cancer, as something not completely understood, something scary, and something bad, is a strong comparison to make, really hitting home in the pathos department.

Throughout the article, they point out the logical solution, which is not necessarily a solution, but rather an inspiration, by making it obvious and making it desirable. The theme of this chapter very well might be that of hope, a theme that touches the heart. Even in an “airless, fluorescent-lit gray cubicle” (p.76) there is hope. Even when the environment is being degraded, there is hope for a continued future on earth, and that future is painted as far more desirable to that of life of Mars or the moon. Summing up the selection they again make a comparison, but this time with a challenge. “Instead of fine-tuning the existing destructive framework, why don’t people and industries set out to create…” which is followed by a list. But the last bullet is so broad, so general, so full of hope, that it seems like the list could never be all-inclusive.