Latest news with #disposability
New York Times
3 days ago
- General
- New York Times
We Pitted Swiffer vs. Bona in a Battle of the Spray Mops
Bona sells concentrated cleaning solution in small, cardboard packages, but you can also use any cleaning solution you prefer in the refillable tank. Swiffer's cleaning solution, on the other hand, comes in unrefillable plastic bottles that require replacing each time they run out. Caroline Mullen/NYT Wirecutter Although the Swiffer PowerMop came out ahead of the Bona Spray Mop Air in my tests, you still might opt for the Bona mop over the Swiffer model if you're more concerned about disposability, refillability, and lifetime cost. One of the major gripes of Swiffer WetJet users is the inability to refill the cleaning-solution tank; this forces you to keep buying the company's cleaning solution, which is packaged entirely in plastic containers. Unfortunately, the Swiffer PowerMop is no different, as the cleaning solution is sold in plastic bottles that aren't refillable, since security tabs on the inside of the cap prevent you from opening and closing it. (There is a workaround, though, for intrepid reusers and DIY-cleaning-solution makers.) In contrast, the Bona cleaning solution is less expensive (approximately 14 cents per ounce to the PowerMop solution's 21 cents), concentrated, and sold in 1-ounce cardboard packs. You mix the concentrate directly in the tank with 31 ounces of water to make 32 ounces of cleaning solution. In theory, you can refill the cleaning-solution tank using the concentrate an infinite number of times. (And unlike Swiffer's solution, Bona's is EPA Safer Choice–certified, which means it meets criteria set by the EPA regarding human and environmental health.) You can also refill the Bona mop's solution tank with the previous version of Bona's solution, should you have some left over. Plus, the Bona mop's tank is clear, so you can easily see when you need to refill. The Bona Spray Mop Air was designed for use on delicate flooring, such as my parquet wood floors. The minimal moisture and gentle mop pads prevent warping, peeling, and swelling. Caroline Mullen/NYT Wirecutter Because the Swiffer PowerMop pads are single-use, you need to break out a fresh one every time you clean — and at approximately $1.72 per pad, the cost and waste quickly add up. Meanwhile, Bona's pads are washable and reusable, though with enough time, they'll eventually need to be replaced. A workaround, if you already own the Swiffer PowerMop or WetJet but want to limit your single-use waste, is to purchase reusable microfiber pads, a recommendation from Wirecutter home improvement writer Liam McCabe, who found them in his mission to make his WetJet less wasteful. These pads are manufactured by various third-party companies, not Proctor & Gamble, but they clean similarly to the Bona mop pads. I've used these same reusable pads for at least five years, and I agree with Liam and a number of other colleagues that they're 'totally adequate,' especially when you take the waste and cost savings into account. Swiffer's PowerMop also periodically requires AA-battery replacement, which adds to its cost and environmental impact over time. Like anything else that isn't strictly analog, the PowerMop runs the risk of malfunctioning or breaking faster than the Bona Spray Mop Air, which doesn't use electricity in its spray mechanism and has no lights that might fail. If you don't mind doing some concentrated vacuuming or sweeping before you spray-mop, and if you prefer less waste and lifetime cost, you may like the Bona Spray Mop Air. I might reach for the Swiffer PowerMop more readily right now, but once I run out of pads and solution for it, I'll be keeping the Bona Spray Mop Air for the long haul.
The Verge
15-05-2025
- The Verge
Thanks, Trump tariffs, now I gotta replace my phone battery
After five years, I was still happy with my phone, even though its battery had started the inevitable process of slowing to a stop. But Donald Trump's tariff nonsense pushed me to make a decision: buy a new phone or fix the old one now, before the prices go up. The answer was clearer than ever — I replaced the battery. I have an iPhone 12 Mini, a size Apple no longer makes. It's small and light, which is what I want from a phone. When it came out, our reviewer found that the battery died on him every evening. I use my phone less than most, and so this was not actually a problem for me — until this year. My battery had degraded by 80 percent, which meant that my phone did actually run out of battery at the end of the day unless I switched on 'low power mode' early. Apple has designed its iPhones to be disposable, largely because Jony Ive is an asshole obsessed with 'sleekness,' a concept I do not find impressive. Its phones' actual functions haven't kept up with the constant churn of iPhone models. For a while now, each major iPhone review has had the theme of ' a set of very nice but ultimately minor changes ' from the previous model. The changes haven't been to the phone part of the phone — it's usually the camera, or the 'dynamic island' or USB-C charging. I don't see any good reason my phone should be disposable I use my phone differently than most people. Mainly, I use it less. My screentime is usually under two hours a day. I do not give a shit about any of the extras — or, for that matter, Apple Intelligence, Image Playground, or the various other toys my phone is too old to support, by design. What I need in a phone is: (1) a phone, for calls; (2) iMessage; (3) navigation: Google Maps and more specialized stuff; and (4) tunes. Just about everything else is optional. The camera could be a potato for all I care. Unlike the jumbo phones I see everywhere, the Mini is sized so that I can actually hold it in my hand and — since I don't usually carry a purse — fit it in the regrettably inferior pockets of a pair of women's pants. When I'm backpacking, a small phone is less weight, and while I'm not an ultralight girlie, less weight does mean being less tired at the end of the day. If I'm counting ounces everywhere else, I'm counting them on my phone, too. I don't see any good reason my phone should be disposable. Sure, pushing people to buy shit they don't need is a mainstay of capitalism, and arguably part of the reason Apple is one of the most valuable companies in the world. It's only recently and begrudgingly started to allow independent repair to its devices, and even so it's thrown up barriers like 'parts pairing,' which means that if you swap out some of its components, certain phone functions no longer work. But it hasn't offered me anything to make buying a new phone for $599 (at the low end) a better proposition than repairing it for $90. If anything, deliberately stymieing repair makes me stubbornly want to do it more. I probably would have continued merrily on with the Mini until it was unusable, except for the fucking tariffs. I don't know what's going on anymore except that the future has suddenly become unpredictable. Are there going to be iPhones readily available next year? And if so, how much more will they cost? After seeing the Port of Los Angeles' executive director Gene Seroka tell Bloomberg News about the steep drop in imports, I knew I needed to make a phone decision sooner rather than later. So I paid about $90 to replace the battery. Saving money where I can seems wise Apple's approach to repair is contemptible enough on its face, but in the world of Trump tariffs, where the supply chain is all fucked up and goods aren't coming into the ports, it's hostile. Tim Cook's famous supply chain prowess involved the introduction of just-in-time manufacturing, which is efficient but notoriously inflexible. Because there are no spares, interruption at any point in the chain means a shortage — as we all learned during the 2020-2021 era of coronavirus pandemic. So with tariffs, I'm nervous that Apple's super special repair parts may no longer be regularly available. Making phones difficult to repair in this environment is inexcusable. Cook has been busily kissing President Donald Trump's ass to try to save Apple's business, which is heavily reliant on foreign manufacturing. He donated $1 million for Trump's inauguration and showed face at it, too. And what did all this kowtowing get him? Just public humiliation. You'd think, having lived through the first presidency, he'd have realized that in advance. Sure, the tariffs have dropped from their worst peaks — for now, at least. But the uncertainty remains enough to disrupt trade, and I suspect everything is only going to get more expensive in the near term. Saving money where I can seems wise. And so far, my hoarding tendencies have looked, well, pretty prescient. After Trump announced (and then revoked) tariffs on Colombia, I bulk-bought my favorite Colombian coffee and froze the extra. Since then, the price has gone up by $5 for the 5-pound bags I bought — and could go even higher. I'm sure at some point Apple will force me to upgrade by stopping support for crucial functions of the iPhone Mini, but I'm gambling that's several years in the future. And there's one more thing an old phone has going for it. Phones are constantly trying to get you to buy new things — in the App Store, in ads being shown to you online, or by upselling you on iCloud storage. In a world where everything gets more expensive, finding ways to avoid buying is clutch. And in that world, an old, slow phone I barely look at is a win.
