Customers save cash but question firm’s conservation record

By Jennifer Anderson

Pamplin Media Group, Feb 17, 2011

Just before 10 a.m., the ritual is the same in suburban neighborhoods throughout the country.

People navigate the massive parking lot, secure a monster-sized shopping cart, scan their shopping list one last time while waiting in line, and fumble through their wallet for the ubiquitous key of entry: the Costco card.

The rush begins when the doors open and it doesn’t stop until closing time.

Issaquah, Wash.-based Costco Wholesale — which boasts a whopping 582 locations worldwide — has become synonymous with jumbo packs of Kirkland toilet paper, $1.50 quarter-pound hot dogs, cheap gasoline and mega-deals on everything from dog food to diapers, plasma TVs and wine.

There’s almost nothing Costco doesn’t sell.

While some find that highly appealing, it doesn’t sit well with the sensibilities of some area residents who pride themselves on their small carbon footprints and buy-local culture.

“I’m always conflicted when I shop there,” says Pamela Michalowski, a Hillsboro registered nurse who shops for herself and her husband. “I prefer to shop at a locally owned store, but they can’t compete with Costco prices on household staples like toilet paper.”

Like many who grow their own food or are on a first-name basis with the “cheese lady” at New Seasons, Michalowski prefers to buy her meats and seafood from farmers markets or upscale grocery stores. But her pocketbook doesn’t always allow it.

“I prefer sustainable and humane practices, but again sometimes the prices get me.”

Conflicted shoppers

Many Portlanders have experienced the Costco dilemma. The love-hate relationship with big-box stores has been a hot topic lately, since the news that Costco could have a future near the Rose Quarter if the development stars align.

The Portland School District and city agreed in late January to explore six different redevelopment possibilities for the Blanchard Education Services Center, the district’s aging pink headquarters. An urban big-box development, with housing on top and pedestrian and bike bridges attached, is one of the proposed concepts.

A central city Costco wouldn’t be a first. One that opened in 2006 in downtown Vancouver, B.C. at the bottom of a residential tower, gets rave reviews from shoppers, cyclists and city planners. Other urban Costcos have followed, adapting merchandise to on-the-go urban customers.

A Rose Quarter Costco would be years away, if it happens at all.

Nearly 20 years ago, Costco’s aggressive pursuit of a site in Portland’s Northwest Industrial District fizzled when business leaders opposed using prized industrially zoned land for retail.

New Costco or not, Sustainable Life thought it would be worthwhile to take a look at the green footprint of the giant retailer and how it meshes with Portlanders’ attitudes about big-box stores.

Too much stuff

To some, the thought of Costco playing a role in a sustainable world is an oxymoron.

“Costco promotes overconsumption, the absolute worst thing humans can do for the environment,” aside from procreating, says Beaverton resident Steve Rawley. “Can they make overconsumption more ‘green?’ Yes, to the extent that ‘green’ is a feel-good marketing scheme.”

In 2007, Harvard University marketing professor Michael Norton and a colleague found that shoppers who paid a fee to join a club — Costco charges $50 — perceived they were automatically getting a deal, whether or not the savings were real.

That led to what he calls the “Costco Effect” — shoppers buying more than what they otherwise would have, including perishable foods that spoil, and impulse items like books, candy or clothes they may not really need. Or as Norton put it, “enough pasta to outlast a nuclear winter.”

But Costco doesn’t always promote waste.

“Many people, when they use these retailers well, it’s much, much better for them to buy in bulk,” Norton says.

When it comes to sizing up Costco’s impact on the environment, versus a lot of little stores that would otherwise take its place, Norton says it’s hard to compare which is better.

To attract millenials, or people in their 20s, companies market themselves as socially conscious. While 20-somethings aren’t Costco’s prime demographic, women are. And, Norton says, “Mothers care a lot about the environment, the next generation.”

How green is it?

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