BusinessWeek Logo
Design May 30, 2008, 1:18PM EST

The Strange Case of the Missing Microfiber

(page 2 of 2)

null

Mark Weiss

I also realized that cleaning my house exclusively with microfiber would obliterate the costs and the storage space demanded by a massive array of task-specific chemicals and applicators I no longer needed. Once my cupboards were bare, I multiplied that emptiness times 100 million American households and wondered how the makers of household cleaners, paper towels, and disposable wipes would survive if microfiber ever really caught on. Would they help launch a new era of nearly chemical-free cleaning, or cling to their profits for dear life?

I asked them.

Several lines of questioning, repeated over the course of two months, via approximately 100 phone calls and countless emails, uncovered several facts. First, large makers of household chemicals are very, very hard to reach and are unwilling to reveal their ingredients for fear of piracy. Second, they're hell-bent on convincing customers to disinfect their premises using the strongest chemicals possible to annihilate bacteria and viruses, evidenced not just by the kind of products they sell and the scare tactics by which they're marketed, but also by the corporate refrain I heard over and over: Okay, maybe microfiber can remove germs, but it does not kill them.

(To disinfect or sanitize, technically one must kill 99.999 percent of microorganisms in 30 seconds.)

Never mind that removing germs is likely to be enough for the average homeowner, assuming he or she takes the time to wash the microfiber cloth properly afterward. Never mind that new university research finds that "safe" household chemicals are proving unhealthy now that so many of them are building up and mixing together inside our hyper-sealed homes, then draining outdoors. Never mind that more scientists are predicting the rise of superbugs as over-disinfecting threatens to create invincible strains of bacteria and viruses.

Spokespeople from Procter & Gamble, makers of Swiffer—that flat mop with chemically "pre-lotioned" disposable pads of cellulose—claimed they were "not really familiar with microfiber" and unaware of any P&G initiatives to promote chemical-free cleaning with such products. P&G—the country's fifth-largest company, with net sales of $76.4 billion, $36.2 billion of which qualify as "household care"—said they are serving their customers' desire for "convenience" and, most urgently, distance from the dirt.

As for the other famous makers of household cleaners, Clorox—which just introduced GreenWorks, the "first national brand of natural cleaning products"—emailed a statement verifying that they were, like "other cleaning product companies, actively evaluating microfiber…an interesting technology."

Meanwhile, SC Johnson, "a family company," managed to schedule no interviews in 40 days.

The observation that all company spokespeople confirmed, whether makers of disinfectant toilet-bowl cleaner or makers of microfiber, was quite a revelation: America loves its cleaning chemicals, and lots of them. We have a distinct cleaning culture. And as much as that culture makes us look stubborn, superstitious, underinformed, and overly aggressive, it's who we are.

That is, until we give up our addiction to sunny-lemon-pine-forest freshness.

Additional reporting by Deni Thurman-Eyer and Gregory Heller-Labelle

Provided by I.D. Magazine—The International Design Magazine

Reader Discussion

 

BW Mall - Sponsored Links

Buy a link now!