So many brands try to position their disposable serveware as zero waste cups but, in reality, only one material can achieve that status: recyclable aluminum, which offers the only path to true zero waste status.

One reason so many products try to get away with that discrepancy is because of a practice known as “greenwashing,” a term that applies to manufacturers that focus on one aspect of their product that’s ecologically sensitive and then act like that specific benefit represents the entire thing.

According to the Zero Waste International Alliance, the technical meaning of zero waste is:

“The conservation of all resources by means of responsible production, consumption, reuse, and recovery of products, packaging, and materials without burning and with no discharges to land, water, or air that threaten the environment or human health.”

‘Reuse and recovery of products’ is where the equation falls apart for purveyors of single-use plastic and most paper disposables. In the United States, barely 5% of single-use plastic gets recycled and, even when that small quantity manages to squeeze through the system, it usually can’t be recycled a second time and inevitably gets diverted to a landfill. Such a cycle is the antithesis of zero waste cups. More appropriately, it should be labeled as guaranteed waste cups.

Although paper seems like a superior alternative to single-use plastic and our intuition is that paper is easily recyclable, it’s combination with a leak-proof plastic lining makes it impossible to recycle – and thereby tossing it out of the zero waste cup club.

In contrast to these two misfits, single-use aluminum cups like LumiCups can be infinitely recycled because aluminum never degrades. It’s estimated that 75% of all the aluminum ever used to produce aluminum cans for the past 65 years is still circulation through our existing recycling system. That’s an incredible record of longevity and upholds the specific meaning of zero waste cups.

Not only that, because there is a robust after-market for recycled aluminum, and thousands of municipal and private trash haulers gather people’s discarded aluminum on a weekly basis, it has the highest global collection rate of any material used in consumer products – at around 75%. It’s higher than glass, cardboard or paper, and certainly of single-use plastic. Considering its superior collection rate and its 100% recycling rate, it ticks all the boxes to meet the letter and spirit of zero waste cups.

A second part of this equation is the packaging used to present these cups to consumers. This is a second – and oftentimes vital – part of the manufacturers’ attempt to confuse consumers into thinking their product is a zero waste cup. How so? A manufacturer will sometimes focus on the merits of the package itself in promoting the eco-sensitive nature of their cups. For instance, the package may entail the use of recyclable carboard, or perhaps the cardboard itself is made from recycled paper or a sustainably managed forest. Or perhaps they once used a larger box but reduced its size (and cost) and now tout the use of a certain percentage less material in their container.

A red flag on any product is when you see a strong focus on the box it comes in. It matters little to the lifecycle of the single-use plastic cup if the box it’s sold in is recyclable cardboard. The box represents a tiny fraction of the environmental impact of those petroleum plastic cups, and if it gets recycled a few more times in its lifecycle, it will hardly outweigh the negative impacts of the plastic it once contained. Zero waste cups need to have a clear and likely path to a circular lifecycle.

A third aspect of the zero waste cup issue is the conscious consumer, and what degree of latitude they are willing to give creative marketers whose intent is misdirection. One of the reasons greenwashing continues to refine its craft is that consumers have yet to draw the line. The marketplace only attempts to sell ideas that consumers are willing to buy. At the moment, there remains plenty of space for greenwashing because the consequences of it are so muted.

Should consumers begin to flex their spending muscle and start to reject the outlandish or irrelevant claims made by greenwashers, it could suddenly become much easier to find zero waste cups at the market. If the greenwashers stopped misidirecting attention away from the actual contents of the key product, consumers could make a side-by-side comparison of their merits. And if greenwashers stopped inventing their own certifications or awards, given by themselves to themselves with the explanation in the footnotes, we could rely on credible experts to point to true zero waste cups.

Zero waste cups aren’t a complex concept to relate to. Understanding their lifecycle isn’t an impossibly complex task – like making a choice in the cereal aisle or trying to update your Sonos app. Understanding what contributes to making something a zero waste cup is as simple as recognizing how its life ends. For plastic, life ends 95% of the time after the first use. For the other 5%, life ends after the next use. For aluminum, there is a 100% chance of being recycled if it’s collected, and there’s about a 75% chance of that.

If you want a truly zero waste cup, the choice is clearly aluminum. If you want to waste your time, single-use plastic would like a word with you.