Let's Examine Milton's Sustainability Scoreboard
By HT Xue ‘26, Victoria Kirkham ‘26, Anna Schmults ‘25
Over the last few weeks, representatives from the sustainability board have become a common sight at all-school gatherings, where they have begun all but begging students to be more mindful of their composting practices amidst the alarming decline in Milton composting. The only way to revamp composting at Milton is to forcibly communicate the message to students, a mission that sustainability board is certainly pursuing. However, as a school-wide community Milton is far from being truly committed to sustainability. Specifically, the majority of individual students don’t keep environmental stewardship at the forefront of their minds – a fact apparent in the ways we both act on and talk about sustainability. Of course, individually sustainable actions are drops in the bucket compared to globally polluting industries. But, as students who were predominantly raised in environments of privilege, we must change our mindsets of contentment as the first step toward wider environmental action. Indeed, our placid reluctance to sacrifice what makes our lives comfortable at Milton drives an insidious complacency in pursuing important sustainability agendas.
First, optimism is important, which is why we would first like to point out where Milton is doing well on sustainability – and should strive to continue to – as a school. First, according to sustainability director Linnea Engstrom, 40% of Milton’s energy consumption is powered by renewable sources, compared to just 9% of the US’ total energy consumption, per the EPA. Moreover, campus-wide reuse initiatives like the annual Milton Bazaar and the electronic disposal drive ameliorate the size of our waste streams. Motion sensor lights in dorms preserve energy while a strong sustainability board presence – in all-school meetings, in staffing the Forbes bins, and across campus – ensures that sustainability is at the very least in the back of our minds. Even the boilers in Forbes were recently replaced to be more energy efficient and all of campus now runs on LEDs.
Each individual achievement in sustainability is impressive. Yet, they are changes that preserve Milton’s cosmetics while avoiding efforts that might make life on campus less comfortable, but that are integral to building a truly sustainable campus.
Case in point: while wilted grass isn’t fashionable in modern society, it’s part of its natural life cycle – except, apparently, the grass on Milton’s quad, which, by way of obsessive maintenance, is green almost year round. Contrary to the common misconception that this grass maintenance wastes water, Milton actually uses organic fertilizers as well as a closed-loop groundwater system to avoid waste water contamination. However, as sustainable as the maintenance system itself is, it prevents the grass from browning in times of low-precipitation – browning which makes grass healthier and more resilient – for the sake of a nicer-looking campus.
Practices like this mask the reality of Milton as a physical place, an environment in and of itself. When rain doesn't come for weeks, we water the grass to keep it green, blinding ourselves to the environmental realities around us. If the grass turned brown, we might be forced to think more deeply about our actions and their impacts on the environment. But as it stands, we are hidden from the consequences.
Moreover, even on weeknights, the lights in the student center remain on long after it closes, draining energy that still largely comes from non-renewable sources. The motion sensor lights that exist in most classrooms could just as easily be installed in the stu, yet the stu is illuminated deep into the night, presumably only to look good.
At this point in most articles can be found concrete solutions to the problem we highlight. This article is an exception; this is because the problem of preserving comfort at the cost of truly reckoning with our environmental impact goes way beyond what school administration can do. In fact, institutionally-enabled sustainability at Milton is making excellent progress. Moreover, as anyone who has done journalism on Milton’s sustainability efforts before would know, budgetary and legal constraints limit what the administration can do. Case in point: it is exceedingly unlikely that the school would ever stop watering the grass.
Our call to action this time goes out to students. Collectively, we must realize that the greatest roadblock to fulfilling our responsibility to preserve the ecosystems we live on is our comfort. We, despite incessant reminders from the sustainability board, still fail to compost properly, refusing to take the time and effort necessary to learn waste disposal practices and to sort their trash. On a mental level, many of us pay a disrespectfully little amount of attention to sustainability-related presentations during class and all-school gatherings; how are we to preserve the environment if we don’t even know our role in its degradation? It is a matter of effort – we cannot be truly sustainable as a community if we make efforts to be sustainable only when it is convenient.
Ultimately, the only obstacle between us and a campus that can call itself truly dedicated to sustainability is our willingness to sacrifice our comfort. Yes, we should be sustainable in ways that are simple and easy, like making elaborate groundwater reuse systems and turning off lights. But true sustainability requires much more commitment, and isn't necessarily easy or glamorous.